#bits are just generally not funny also call them what they are. INSIDE JOKES

[juniestar]

Why are so many dudes not talented or funny? if you ask them “what’s your passion” it’s like “making that dough” okay NO what are you GOOD AT? ALL these men have is THEIR MUSTACHES!

[celestiamour]

ft. logan howlett, ororo munroe, laura kinney, wanda wilson, wade wilson, kurt wagner, jean grey, scott summers (separate) x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ how they are when you are on your time of the month┊1k words

contains: some smutty topics for logan & jean, periods and all the complimentary side effects obviously because it’s so generous ahahahahaaaaaaaaa

➤ author's note: oh how i hate being a woman at times, if only some strong mutants could come to life and help ease the suffering…

let’s get this out of the way— yes, logan howlett can smell it and is able to tell when you’re on our period. in fact, he’s even able to sniff out the difference between the blood from menstruation and the blood from injuries. he’s been… “around the block” to put it lightly, he knows what you are going through, will be nice about it, and will use his experience to help care for you. he won’t be as sassy as he usually is even if you are a bit snappy, he’ll get extra food and put aside snacks for you, and he’ll give you as much or as little space as you want. also very willing to eat you out or cuddle-fuck you during it, being a little messy doesn’t faze him and he’s probably done nastier. 8/10, he’ll help you get through it without any complaint.

ororo munroe knows when your cycle is coming before you do, she keeps track of it and is on duty to take care of you the second you wake up with that uncomfortable feeling in your panties. she’s already inside the bathroom attached to your room running a warm bath completely with bath bombs and flower petals, ready to carry you into the water, and to strip your bedsheets for a wash if they get stained. there’s even a cute little wicker basket full of candies and drinks on your bedside with a stuffed animal she brought from target sitting on your bedside. it may seem excessive to some for something that happens every month, but she believes the effort is worth it if it means easing your pains. 10/10, she’s an angel descended from heaven in your eyes.

both of your dads are pretty useless (worst! logan is less knowledgeable than his original counterpart) on the topic and althea gives you a piece of chocolate at most, so you and laura kinney need to take care of each other when shark weeks come around. so many cuddles, kisses, and movie nights while snacking because cravings are a bitch. she’ll pat you on the back and rub your shoulders, muttering little “i know, princess, i know” as you whine. don’t even think of moving if you’re in a position like that, she’ll run around the house to get you pain relievers and a hot water bottle. 9/10, she’s such a wonderful girlfriend.

not sure why, but i feel like you and wanda wilson’s periods would sync a lot? anyhow, it’s a nightmare dealing with mood swings, cramps, and cravings all while taking care of babypool, so there’s a general rule not to take anything seriously during those days because you’re both sensitive and irritable. once it’s all over though, you’re back in each other’s arms and apologizing for anything that might have been said or done (nothing serious happened, it’s just something like “i’m sorry for saying that in an off tone and making you think i was mad at you”). 5/10, could be a lot better but the days afterward are kinda like honeymoon bliss again.

wade wilson is the biggest shit of them all, he definitely says “and that’s on period” every time he finds out, calls you his little ketchup bottle, sends you period cramp moodboards which are just poorly cropped photos of him in the deadpool suit doubled over in pain from a fight— however, he will make you laugh so hard you’ll cry and forget about the ache in your body. 2/10 in terms of helpfulness but 10/10 in terms of funny jokes and conversations. 

you’ll give poor kurt wagner a heart attack every time you whine out in pain and curl up on the couch, clutching onto your stomach and contorting about to find a comfortable position. despite the promises from yourself and everyone else that you will be fine as the aching feeling is temporary, he can’t help but bite his nails from worry. the suffering of people with a uterus will never cease to shock him, they really have to bleed freely like that for a few days every month? he will not leave you alone and is going to treat your every request like an order from royalty. anything you want, you get, and no amount of assurance is going to convince him he doesn’t have to do all that, so you might as well enjoy it while you’re moody and suffering. 

jean grey is one of those people who just don’t have period cramps and still glows despite it all which you are so fucking jealous of. that being said, she’s the best person to be around when it hits. since she’s basically the mansion’s school nurse, she always has snacks, water, pads/tampons of every variety, and pain relievers on hand with so much bounty that she never seems to run out. as your girlfriend, she’s also willing to be a bit sneaky and write you a doctor’s note to get you out of classes regardless of if you are a teacher or a student. she’s also down to fuck even if you’re on your period since she knows orgasms are proven to lessen the pain and she’ll also massage your tits if they are feeling tender (and because she likes your chest no matter the size). 9/10, she can be a bit busy at times but is perfect aside from that.

please hold hands with scott summers and go with him when picking out pads/tampons, he will get overwhelmed by the amount of options and panic buy one of everything. what are wings? liners? what’s the difference between yellow and green, is it lemon or lime? he might forget that you’re more sensitive during these times and slip a comment into a conversation that would make you cry when it usually makes you laugh, but he’ll remind you to stay hydrated, will go out of his way to buy you brownies from your favorite bakery, and will smother you in cuddles. 

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "You are..." - Loving and encouraging words for you

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read some loving warm words about you. it's always nice to hear about our positive traits, right? here you can find yours and some encouraging words about your next steps/healing. keep going and take care of you! and also, be ready to let love in, you deserve it :)

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3

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pile 1

You are sunny, cheerful, bright and warm. You're also pretty welcoming and you like to hug people or generally enjoy physical displays of affection. I think people like to be around you, you basically cheer up everyone and "set the mood for the evening" (I just heard that, IDK). You have a lovely smile, everyone is in awe with it and you in general; maybe you also have a particular way to laugh? Like you maybe make a strange sound, and everyone is fond of it. They love to make you laugh honestly just to hear it. I feel like you take emotional care of others and you may feel like a sip of fresh water to many. You're extrovert (or at least seem so in specific context), confident and you know exactly what to do or say to make the day of the people you are in contact with. I think you may share smiles with people on the street and even help them if they need (eg. like if they drop something you may pick it up for them, especially for older people or you may leave your seat to them). I think you are very funny and smart, and like to joke a lot. Okay for some of you you may have changed after something happened and keep this sunny side of you a bit hidden (or maybe you occasionally fear being judged about it, or you have been), but honestly I think you only need to reconnect with it and let it flow from you. It's hurtful when some things happen but it's also something that... just happens in life, sadly (I'm not trying to invalidate your experience/pain, at all). We don't have to let those negative things change us so much, especially if we still feel that flame/desire inside. I mean... don't feel guilty for being happy, if that's what you feel. You can be happy no matter what happened. You have to be happy. Find new ways for that happiness to flow within but reach it "and let it rain" out of you. Enjoy it, let it be there and help you heal what hurt as well, if you need. You can find new happiness anytime. New reasons to be happy, too. This is also true for the few of you who tend to hide pain behind a smile, pretending it's all good. Toxic positivity won't solve it, as avoiding problems. Be more balanced (maybe you were called by pile 2 as well) and accepting of what is wrong: it doesn't mean you let it take over you (ask for help if it's too scary), it means you're not being blind to it but you're listening to it and trying to make it better (ofc you can wear a smile while you do that, you totally have to! Healing happens also with taking breaks to enjoy life and hobbies/passions...). You are such a beam of light for everyone, confront your problems (if there's any) and then keep on shining!

song: chicken noodle soup | j-hope; wake me up before you go go | wham! (I channeled the first song while doing your reading, anyway the mood for you is: jitterbug!)

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pile 2

You are strong, pure and very special. You stand out, and honestly you don't even have to do much to stand out. I think it's your energy: it also has something healing for those that comes near you, something comforting. You should be more confident in yourself: maybe you also doubt about your looks or how you may be seen/perceived by others but honestly you have/are nothing less than anyone else. You are caring and have a good heart; maybe you have buildt some walls around yourself out of past traumas, and this is blocking you a little when it comes to sharing with others or creating deeper relationships. It's okay take your time to work through those walls. You have beautiful eyes, and maybe you like to look at others in the eyes too? I think you are also sincere, honest and humble, at times also to a fault: please do stand up for yourself when you need, and set your boundaries. You may also be a bit too strict on you, especially when you make some type of mistakes or something? Maybe it's the fear I mentioned in the beginning of being perceived as you're not or in a bad way, or maybe... at times you may be scared of your thoughts somehow. It's not just the anxiety you may get from them and how they may make you spiral so you tend to stop them (it's okay to do this and distract your mind when you start feeling overwhelmed, but please come back to those thoughts when you feel calmer: to avoid thinking about a problem won't help you solve it at all, it will come back stronger. And please ask for help if you need), but there's also something else. Remind yourself usually the first thought is what we learned, our instinctive first reaction to a situation (usually comes up to "protect us") while the second thought we have is the one that comes from the heart, it really expresses what we think with a calmer and more balanced mind. I mean, eg. let's say someone says they got something you always wanted and this triggers you: your first reaction could also be being envious of them and feel not enough compared to them and potentially say or think something negative/feel resentful or angry, but if you stopped and thought about it again, you may just be really happy for this person and see yourself as on a different path: your time will come too. Be more kind with yourself, more patient: you're unlearning a negative mental pattern and that's not easy, it will take time and practice and lot of patience. You are so lovely you have no idea, please try to see and show that yourself too.

song: a little bit yours | jp saxe (indeed come back to your core self and show yourself love, and accept it too; closing chapters, changing and unlearning stuff is hard, but you can make it)

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pile 3

You are multilayered. You have lovely rosey cheeks, people may want to squeeze them lol. You are sweet and cute, you probably are also a little shy or maybe you feel anxious in social settings and you may end up blushing a lot. You may also be stubborn occasionally (not too bad tbh) and can be determined or at least you reach good results in job/school. I think you tend to hide a part of yourself though or find it hard to deal with it/not like it. There's something you fear showing or that you don't want others to see about you, probably your pain, probably something from your past that you keep inside (also cause you can't accept/understand it -it could be abuse for someone, I hope you are safe now). Maybe you're also "scared"... of being loved/seen for real (having your "mask removed"?) or feeling vulnerable... Your energy feels younger or maybe just unexperienced in some fields or situations (maybe you also feel uncomfortable in some situations or you felt so in the past and you avoided joining them so now you feel a little behind maybe: honestly, there's nothing bad in this. You're not behind, you just did what was better for you and you still have time to make more experiences. You have all the time you need and want). I think there's indeed something about time here, it could be you are nostalgic about something that now you are missing/lacking, maybe feelings you could experience in your childhood, or you want to delete something from your past, or it could be that you fear running out of time, as mentioned, as you want to experience many things still but maybe you are scared you won't make it or you don't know where to start from. Just take a break: the moment you'll feel more grounded, it will come to you. Focus on taking care of you and also do take naps if you need and can. If it's about your childhood, eg. if people taught you have to "grow up" or have dimmed you in any way (or you had to, in order to gain their approval), remember you don't really have to forget about your inner child nor to be someone you're not. You can be an adult and still be in touch with your inner child. It's not that one thing excludes the other. And you can be yourself without any fear (it's hard to believe it but you won't be pushed away by everyone if you aren't as they wish). Maybe your inner child now really needs you to be closer to them, they need your appreciation and support, probably also after something you had to go through in your past: your inner child totally did great back then with all they had. Hug them and show them love. I think some of you may also love to work or be around children or pets as they may help you feel more in touch with your own inner child and more grounded. Again, be attentive to your needs, and meet them: maybe you were *unwillingly* taught you don't deserve that much (you had to accept crumbles in relationships) but it's not so, you deserve the moon: remember this. You're already perfect, there's nothing about you in your past or present that you need to fix, my love. Heal your fears about being yourself, receiving (love in particular) and don't run away from it, don't run away from yourself: you'll get all you wish for. Give it and yourself time. And, if you need this: it wasn't your fault, you were not responsible for that event/decision for which you feel like you were (and maybe you didn't even had to take). Whatever it was. You were trying to win the approval of someone who couldn't love you as you wished. Build boundaries around people (adults) and remember you are not responsible for them and what they do/their mistakes: you're not here to save them from anything. You have your own self and life to care about now.

song: heart attack | demi lovato

[raythekiller]

I love the masky nsfw alphabet It riled up my imagination.. soo can i request for a hoodie one?? Thank youu

🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ NSFW ALPHABET ❛ ✧

Featuring: Hoodie/Brian

# Notes: its that time of the year again where i make 1 post and disappear for the next seven months <3 also DAYUM new post format?? (also also theres a new toby drawing on the way stay tuned)

A - AFTERCARE

Surprisingly soft. Wants to hold you close and maybe take a shower together. Don't get things twisted though - it's so he can keep feeling your body against his instead of to comfort you. Call it possessiveness or an ego stroke, maybe.

B - BODY PART

Thighs man through and through. Thigh highs drive him up-the-wall insane. Will also just absentmindedly knead them if you're sitting next to him, especially if you're wearing shorts or a skirt/dress.

C - CUM

Oh he likes it messy. Just enjoys having his cum on you in general - backshots, face, dripping from you after he came inside, you name it.

D - DIRTY SECRET

None. He has no shame and is very open about what he likes.

E - EXPERIENCE

Not as much as you might expect, given his demeanour. Don't get me wrong, it's still a lot, but he makes it seem like he worked as a pornstar for a few years with sheer cockiness.

F - FAVORITE POSITION

If you ask him, he'll say "all of them". But if you put a gun to his head and tell him to choose, he'll settle for doggy. Just loves grabbing your hips and ass while he's pounding into you.

G - GOOFY

He doesn't exactly make jokes, but his teasing might be a bit funny at times. He doesn't mind making things more silly or lighthearted as long as you still cum at the end of it.

H - HAIR

Usually clean-shaven, but he might get a bit lazy with it occasionally. Always at least well trimmed though.

I - INTIMACY

Usually adapts to what you like best. If you just want to get your brains fucked out and keep romance out of it, he'll happily do it. If you like something more tender with lots of "I love you"s, he doesn't complain about it either.

J - JACK OFF

A lot. This guy has crazy stamina (we'll talk about that later), I'd say maybe five times per week or so.

K - KINK

A lot but mainly: CORRUPTION!! I've said it before and I'll say it again he wants to bring the worst out of you. If you're a virgin, he wants go be your first. If you're not, he wants to see just how wild things can get when he pushes you a little.

L - LOCATION

Literally anywhere. He is a fan of semi-public sex, though. In the woods, living room of the manor when (you think) there's no one else home, in a busted alleyway, you name it.

M - MOTIVATION

Oh it's very easy to turn him on. Here's a huge one though: when you take iniciative. He's used to being the one starting shit. When YOU do it, though? When you make it clear you want him to wreck you? Fucking hot.

N - NO

Very short but obvious list: anything to do with piss, shit or vomit. Other than that, I think he's pretty open. Not even averse to being submissive every now and then.

O - ORAL

HELL YEAH BABY! Giving, receiving, whatever, he doesn't care. His mouth isn't just good for talking shit — he knows how to use that tongue. When he's getting head, though? He looks so pretty — head thrown back, moaning and whimpering with a grin on his face. Might buck his hips into your mouth for giggles (and because you sound hot choking on him).

P - PACE

Again, he'll go for whatever gets you off. If you like it rough and fast, he's in. If you prefer slow and sensual, that's also hot.

Q - QUICKIE

Biggest quickie fan in the manor. He just can't help himself most of the time and he doesn't really try to, either. If his horny, you best bet he knows how to get you horny as well and things just go from there.

R - RISK

Loves experimenting and finding new ways to make you moan. Doesn't mind getting a bit freakier every now and then.

S - STAMINA

Jesus christ what are they feeding this man. Y'know when guys are like "I'm gonna fuck you all night long" and stop after two rounds max? This motherfucker is serious about it.

T - TOYS

I don't think he'd go out of his way to buy them, but if you already have them you best believe he's using it to his advantage. Big fan of vibrators.

U - UNFAIR

This guy is MEAN. He doesn't make you wait for too long before fucking you but just those few minutes feel like an eternity with the atrocities he's whispering in your ear.

V - VOLUME

LOUD. He moans, groans, whines, whimpers, you name it. Not ashamed to make some noise and LOVES if you're loud as well.

W - WILD CARD

Likes having his hair pulled— WHO SAID THAT???

X - X-RAY

7.4 inches, cut. Not too thick, just the right girth.

Y - YEARNING

Can't go like, a week without having sex or at least jacking off. Homeboy has a lot of steam he needs to let out.

Z - ZZZ

Only god knows how he doesn't pass out immediately after. Chances are you'll fall asleep before him.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Four Weeks in New York

gorgeous gif credit to @violaobanion

Requested: ☑️

Warnings: SO. MUCH. SEX. 18+, reunion jitters, potentially out of character actions due to rough sex? but then again, they’ve missed each a lot other, ok?! Also, i dunno, but beware he’s a horny over thinker and he’s in a funny headspace due to, ya know, war. Jean is a champ, Harry can’t manage to blow a load for awhile, mild breeding kink if you wanna call purposefully making a baby that…Gerry Hamilton and Margaret Blakely make tiny little cameos in here and I swear I’m half thinking of writing this trio of women all giggling over their legendary husbands

Word count: a hefty 7k and we’ve got more coming for ya

Coauthored with m’baby @crazymadpassionatelove

Synopsis: Harry Crosby is sent stateside to be with his wife for a month of terribly needed R&R in the summer of 1944

Caveat: this is based off a portrayal of real people in a tv series, while Jean wasn’t represented by an actress as Harry was, in this price of media I intend the same. I mean no disrespect to the real men and women mentioned and dramatized herein.

Scene One:

Jean had been at it so long in front of the mirror she began to notice every grain of powder collected in her smile lines and every infinitesimal blur of strong coal from around her eyes and -she needed to step away, at least a few inches from the reflective glass and get a grip. At the more sensible distance of gripping onto the edge of the counter -marble and swanky like everything in this posh and paid for hotel- she saw her face restored to what it was, a pretty decent cutie’s with a perfect mask of makeup and freshly styled hair: fit for a homecoming.

It was going to be fine. She was going to be fine. She was going to need to make him fine again, and give him back to them strong enough to come back to her for good. Happiness and dread swirled in a gnawing cocktail inside her, the cruel thought of almost wishing not to be teased with him at all until she could keep him for good fighting with the braver parts of herself that wanted every second of him she could have, even if it had a big red finish line drawn at a month.

A month was a long time, a month was about all they’d had to be married before he left. Technically, or at least Jean wondered if technically, it would mean she’d only been fully “married” for two months. Of course that was nonsense to the general public and the pastors who reminded about vows and the wedding band she flashed at over eager servicemen, but to her select little girl gang, the ones who worked at the factory with her and who had to give up their husbands too- they talked about their brief marriedness with hushed and giggly fondness, like something out of a dream and just as brief.

The fiancés in the girl gang were jealous of this topic and Jean supposed they had a right to be. She indulged the innocents with all their questions about being “actively” married, tried to repay them with the same frankness she’d so desperately sought before her wedding. But as it was, she’d only had a month of active service, and while it had been spent as vigorously as any young couple’s first four weeks of legal license, it had left Jean in the interim with a plain impression of herself being a little bit of a hussy.

She wanted Harry so badly this past year since he’d gone she hardly thought it medically sane. Wanted him so badly, and that was something not even the girl gang could always bring themselves to titter about. It was one thing for Margaret Blakely to joke about her Ev coming back the previous month ‘taking’ his leave in more ways than one, but they weren’t often out here asking each other if nothing really fixed the hunger since their man had been gone. It was all Jean thought of. Jean wanted to ask if it ever cooled, if the sticky frustration with one’s own inadequate fingers ever subsided.

By the dreamy eyed state of the recently visited Mrs. Blakely, the answer appeared to be a resounding no. Nothing ever beat the real thing. And that made Jean want to writhe in frustration before learning that she too, would be visited by a on-leave husband.

A year of being married and only a month of it “active”, Jean had concluded it was a chronic case on her part of salivating need for her Bing, the only cure would be him -him inside her, in perpetuity. All she’d gotten out of Maragret had been a grinning warning to Jean to “get in shape for Major Crosby’s furlough, you’ll spend it on your back.”

Jean could freely admit to herself that she needed to be ripped apart by her man, she needed him lingering inside her when he left again. She just feared that it wasn’t exactly their usual way. How could she tell him, what if that’s not what he needed. What if it was all different, what if it needed to be?

Jean pointed a finger at herself in the fancy gilt mirror, red nails pointing at her fancy clad self in pastel silk and tiny bows, “He’s your husband,” she told herself sternly, trying not to sweat at the idea he could be here any hour, catch her in this state of intentional undress, and help himself to her jittery body, “he loves you, you love him. All you need to do is let him have his husbandly rights and things will go smoothly. It’s a vacation not a death trap. You’ve got a man to patch up, get on with it.”

This speech gave her four whole seconds of empowered determination before a vigorous set of knocks on the hotel suite’s outer door made her jump out of her skin in surprise. She could go open the door but then -what if someone was in the hall with him? And saw her in this state of…lack of…well, her in her lingerie. He had a key, they’d have given him a key. He was the Mister to her Missus Crosby, they were allowed a shared suite.

“Jean?” Hearing that dear voice for the first time in twelve months, even faintly from far outside the bathroom door, flooded Jean with so much feeling her knees locked up and her throat collapsed on her response. He was her husband, her Bing, her first and only love, they’d be alright. They had to be.

Harry gingerly closed the door behind him, the heavy painted wood shutting with a finality that made him feel terribly anxious. While he had been trudging up the hall to their suite he’d been able to laugh a little at his dismal procession, morose shuffling and hang dog attitude. It had been absurd for a guy coming back to see the wife who he loved. He knew that and he could say that again and again in his head in a voice that morphed more and more into Bubbles’ voice an-

-and now he was in the room and he wasn’t anticipating anything, he had arrived and as if he’d just touched down in occupied Europe, he couldn’t help his braced posture or hunted surveillance of the oddly empty room.

“Jean?”

She wasn’t in here, but the en-suite bathroom door was shut. She wasn’t in here but from the bathroom came wafting something so viscerally nostalgic of her that he felt his heart pound in devoted recognition before his brain even caught up: her soap. Not some fancy hotel brand, it seemed she had brought her old stuff, the stuff he’d lathered on her as many times as he’d had the chance before leaving, the stuff she smelled of before church and the stuff that got more strong and pungent when he made her sweat in it from their exertions in bed.

It smelled like Jean in here and it was enough to make him drop his duffel bag with a decided thump. He was staying. This was his wife, everything might be different but some things like soap -they’d still be the same, as would the dry mouthed want it filled him with.

“Jean?”

He ventured further into the room, not bothering to call her name again, maybe being around guys had made him callous to spooking her but no real harm would be done, he was…him.

“Oh! Bing?” Jean sounded flustered behind her door and Harry found himself grinning. “I’m coming! I’m coming right out!”

It sounded less like a reassurance than it did an order to herself, which was amusing and it made him wonder, just how awkward were the two of them going to manage to make this? God knows he’d tripped over himself enough times winning her over the first round, he had such hopes never to revisit the bumbling stages of courtship. Seemed like once they’d married and joined it had been smooth as glass ever since- until…until he’d stopped being himself.

Until he had wandered into a hotel room with a woman who didn't wear a matching gold band. Jean knew nothing of that though. She never would. Sweet peaches and cream Jean who had come all this way to see him. Bringing that soap and the books he saw stacked on the night table. Bringing that sweet, pink pussy he needed to sink himself into. Remind himself of who he was. He didn't want to be Major Crosby at the moment. He wanted to just be Jean's husband. He heard the clock in the room ticking, felt the sweat pooling at the back of his neck as he waited for her. Her Elizabeth Arden lipsticks lined up like perfect little soldiers on the dresser. It had been so long that kissing her was surely going to feel like the first time all over again.

There was more amiss in the room, upon further inspection, besides her trunks and her hat boxes and the lipsticks. Amiss in that: there were elements no hotel should have, the plate of very delicious looking misshapen fudge, for instance, the plate itself looking suspiciously like their wedding set. Harry could describe that pink and green pattern on ivory in vivid detail if you had asked him yesterday, tracing it now was like no time had passed at all since that first breakfast as husband and wife, tittering over having “things” of their own. And beside the plate a book, one he’d not finished when he went over, he realized with a lump growing in his throat. Then there was the bed beneath these things, tidily made but not pristine, ha -how could it be with homey floral sheets in place of pristine white and a monogrammed pillow case each.

Giant embroidered C’s. For Crosby, of course.

Jeepers -he’d taken Jean for the first time on those very sheets, now he was recognizing them, and some very uncivilized part of him suddenly wanted to rip the covers back and find out if her virgin blood hadn’t fully scrubbed out-

“Bing!”

He is awkwardly sitting on the edge of the bed, thumbing through the pages of Look Homeward, Angel when Jean manages to saunter out with a summoned amount of calm. His hair is sleek and trimmed, his jacket well fitting, his whole self in his army duds seeming so comfortable, filled out, self possessed -it’s the floral sheets beneath him that ruins the effect just a little, makes him seem shifty, out of place. That and those great brown eyes suddenly round as a newborn calf’s at the long awaited sight of her.

She’s seen the soldier’s return posters -does he expect the same greeting? No little party at the station in satin and lace here, but they’d both agreed it would be better to be private, secluded, uninterrupted. Now it feels too tame and mild.

Does he want that? That reunion embrace?

Before she can rethink it she rushes him. “Binger!” she gasps out right as he stands to meet her head on, long arms outstretched to engulf her. This she knows, this she dreamed of. If she squeezes too tight she must be forgiven, it’s too fabulous to be considered real for many moments, the feel of his flexing back beneath her hands and his chest under her cheek. It’s tight and jarring and not a bit smooth but it’s him, it’s him and all is well.

Harry has his nose buried in her hair, that smell is wafting in again. It’s Jean -hits him with the force of a rocket and he’s suddenly responding in kind, arms crushing her to him, can’t get close enough, can’t tell her enough about missing her and loving her and how he’s put one step in front of the other all these years for this moment.

“Oh Bing,” she exclaims again, her face just barely pulled away to really get a look at him, her hands on his cheeks, “I can’t believe it. I’ve prayed, every day I’ve prayed for this.”

Prayers -the word sours in his mind after what he’s seen, after how many he’s sent up and not plane returned with an answer. “Mmm, Mrs. Crosby.” he contemplates the dear face before him before dragging his hand beneath her hair, cupping the back of her head with his large hand, watchface cool on the back of her neck. She’s been waiting for him to kiss her, wanting to let him lead, hoping her initial enthusiasm would embolden him like before. Instead he seems lost in archiving her face, those dear, melancholy eyes flitting over every feature, the hands studying and firm but not a caress. It’s obvious there’s something missing here, a piece ajar from the puzzle.

Jean stands atiptoe carefully, and determinedly slots her lips against his plush, red ones. That seems to rouse him a bit, Harry responds instantly, making up for his hesitancy, deepening it as his tongue meets hers in a heart wrenching reunion of sorts. He always was fond of kissing, her Bing. Now he was kissing her senseless and this -this was more like what she imagined.

His hands trail from her neck down the her ribs and into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hips where he vaguely notices she’s adorned in some silky little something, no doubt chosen and worn just for him.

Say something Croz, you big idiot —he thinks to himself, confronted with the fact he is gripping at her and sucking face without another word said besides inane repetition of her name.

“Jean you look…perfect.” he mumbles against her lips.

It’s boyish and reminiscent, the stumbling praises mumbled so earnestly. It makes her giggle fondly. She breaks their kiss and takes hold of his face in her hands, indulging a little inspection of her own. “My beautiful boy,” she croons, “you came back to me.”

She kisses the prominent bridge of his nose and his perpetually furrowed brow and the smooth below each heavily fringed eye, his cheeks, his chin, the corner of his mouth -she pressed at his chest till she’s got him sat on the edge of the bed again. He’s fully dressed, taut as a bowstring and she wants him, needs him, to relax. She can feel the tension, the uncertainty, rolling off him.

She won’t let them take this away from them, she won’t let them rob them of their comfort with each other.

She kneels gently before him and undoes his boots, enjoying the way he pets her hair, quietly admiring its shine and style. His trousers are creased and starched and knelt between his legs Jean finally notices it then, the prominent tent beneath the olive weave. It makes her breath hitch. Was he always this big? Even camouflaged by trousers?

“You must be tired,” she frets aloud, working on the laces, “and cramped from such a long flight. Did you take something? Your eyes are a little…funny.”

Harry nods before realizing she’s not one of his men. Wives tend to value words and sentences, the more syllables the better. “Yeah,” he croaks aloud, “something for the stomach.”

Oh Bing and his stomach. Ever the dutiful wife, Jean rubs the sock feet she just liberated and kneads her way up his calves, hoping to leech some of the tension out of him. She works her way to his thighs, rising back up to her feet when he grabs her wrists and pulls her into another kiss. It’s even hungrier this time and his first moan of the evening sends a jolt of longing triumph straight to her core.

“I’ve missed you.” she chokes out between kisses and he responds by biting her neck, his thumbs rolling the satin in circles on her hips. His front pressing hard and firm against her lower belly, making her mouth run dry.

Still, Harry’s not saying much and if he wasn't kissing and caressing her so ardently, she'd have no clue they were even on the same planet.

And so Jean decides to do something rather bold. Something her mother would not approve of. She puts her hands on his shoulders, briefly causing him to pull away from her neck, then she whispers temptingly in his ear, “Last night I…slid my ring finger inside me. pretended it was you…I won't have to pretend anymore, will I, Harry?”

She feels him twitch against her belly beneath his layers. It’s her turn to kiss his cheek and nibble his neck, finding his little groans to be intoxicating. His grip tightens on her waist as he buries his head against her with his eyes closed, breathing her in. That scent.

That's when she adds in a plea, “Y-y-you're gonna have to…open me

up again Croz.…..you know what I

mean?...my poor little fingers are so

tiny and now I'm back to how I was

on our wedding night…”

Harry’s groan is animalistic and pained and she -well Jean’s a horny, rambling mess and she can’t bring herself to be ashamed, she missed him too strongly. “You're a hero to America.” She swears into his panting mouth, “And to me. I'm gonna give you the strength to help you get through the rest of what you need to do. But I need something from you, I need you to put a baby in me Bing.”

That is what he responds to, like orders in war. He’s good at finding his way with directions. His head rears back and his eyes sharpen with concentration. Jean wants something? he’ll deliver it, always was that way.

He nods.

“Lay back on the bed Jean.” his voice is quiet but she’s never heard it so steady, so commanding. That must be the voice he uses when he speaks to his men over there. If she wasn't squeezing her thighs together and scrambling onto the bed to follow Major Crosby orders, well, she'd cum right then and there. This isn't the same Bing that reads the paper, his beautiful lips mouthing the words as he does, the one who brings her flowers just because, or is quick not to curse in public. This man before her is a war weary Major who is used to being obeyed. Jean intends to follow every word he says, the thought of seeing him off without a little piece of him nestled inside her would just devastate her.

She burrows up against their Crosby pillows, looking like an absolute treat and admiring her man's package that seems to be growing bigger by the second. He's panting like a wild horse above her and she realizes she should heed all that advice she'd been given. Be a good wife, take care of his needs. Her painted toes rub against the sheets as she slowly inches forward to help him undress. Major Crosby beats her to it though, ridding himself of his uniform efficiently and tossing it on to the floor in a rumpled mess accompanied by a huff.

Is he mad? Jean wonders to herself. His freshly exposed cock sure looks mad. It's red, and almost looks hot to the touch as it dribbles and leaks down his thick shaft.

Was it always that big? Were his eyes always so wild? Bright -she remembers them as being bright.

He collapses on her purposefully, a crushing embrace with his hands snarled in her hair, elbows to the bed, his belly to hers, his lips devouring her own. It’s a shock and a thrill, that first feeling of skin against skin again, Harry’s so warm his tongue is nearly scalding and she feels herself sweat in her skimpy finery. The anticipation is harsh, the dynamic fumbling in its ravenous rush, her head spins when an irrational spike of fear slices through the heady haze of desire that his touches coax. Touch? -a mauling of sorts, more like, he is all teeth and nails and assessing hands, grabbing at her ferociously.

Instinctively Jean begins to rub him, his shoulders, his neck, his forearms

-a soothing caress at a kinder pace than he allows but she means it well, channels that little spark of anxiety she feels to sooth his own keyed up self.

“I’m here, I’m here,” she keeps swearing as she feels him buckle just that little bit to the insistent kneading of her hands on his arms, “I’m not going anywhere.” she swears and the rigid line of his body sags further into her neck, some off kilter focus he’s carried about him slipping under her gentle persuasion. “Baby, how about a little rub?” she coos, lithely extracting herself out from under him before she thinks on it too long.

“That might be nice.” he manages, not sure what the hell it is he needs, “My neck maybe..took a little spill a few days ago...” he casually mentions the incident, underplaying that whole fiasco of passing out cold from exhaustion, splattering on the floor like the contents of a mop bucket.

“Then let me rub your neck.” she begs.

He allows it and with a slightly lost gaze he follows her movements as she props up beside him and brings him closer for leverage. She scoops his head into her lap with that familiarity that made him fall first and hard for her, and suddenly he is pillowed on the warm, giving belly of a woman. His woman. And Croz feels himself begin to melt from that feeling alone, long before her clever thumbs start working at the knots nearly calcified at the base of his neck.

She used to do this for him when he was at school, too much reading in an ill advised position had him often so stoved up he couldn’t be of any use on the baseball team. Jean had learned to work her magic then, and Harry had learned how very much he liked his face buried against the swell of a girl’s womb.

Oh fuck -her little speech comes rushing back to him- Jean wants a baby.

Damn the jet lag, the separation jitters and all the rest that got him sent here like a looney to a special holding facility. Jean wants a baby and he hasn’t been rock hard since Dartmouth only to let it go to waste by sleeping it off.

Right when she begins to feel the motion of her hands take effect on his rigid shoulders, her Harry is suddenly lifting his head again, face slightly flushed and creased from the lace of her nighty and he smiles at her then. Mischievous and warm, “C'mere,” he beckons with a voice that means something and so she follows him as he sits up, “stand up babydoll, show me that outfit. Let me appreciate ya.” He slides his warm palm into her smaller one and tugs her to her feet, an easy sort of dance move to bring her round in front of his position, swaying her back and forth just outside the v of his legs.

“Well, look at you.” he marvels at her, his expression gone soft under that wrecked mop of curls. Jean recognizes the old spark alight in him, the one that might go dormant for her when away or when she couldn’t make up her damn mind but anytime she wanted him back?—oh he looked at her like this, like he was lucky as hell to have her and intended to be brave with that luck. “Turn around for me, loverdoll, c’mon, show me what I’ve got, come onnnn Jeaaann,” he insists, his voice playful and insistent as he spins her with a hand at her hip until she shows him the back of this frilly little excuse for nightwear, “Look at that.” he whistles behind her and Jean feels her cheeks burn pleasantly, “Pretty as a fawn, Jean.” he punctuates this odd little compliment with the back of a finger running up the length of her thigh, to the little swell of her rump and Jean knows her legs tremble in helpless response. “Go on, strike a pose for me, I know you didn’t put on this get up for nothin’. Who'd believe it? My Mrs. Crosby out here lookin’ like one of those girls.”

‘Those’ girls, whoever they are exactly, are left nebulous and Jean likes it that way, it gives her a saucy bravery to pitter patter away from his hold and turn back to face his unabashedly admiring gaze. Jean cocks a hip and drops a shoulder, knee turned in, toes pointed. Gerry had made her perfect it a million times in the mirror when she should’ve been sensibly getting into a gown and getting some shut eye instead.

Thank God for Margaret Ann Blakely and her fun loving pastimes. And also: “Screw him for us Jean!!” -thank God for Gerry Hamilton and her brazen preoccupations with her own man, for how she piled on as she convinced Jean of an assortment of little silk things thrown into her suitcase, “Screw him good, for all of us! For Americaaaaa!” the young and empty Mrs. Hamilton’s candor had built until Jean was close to frantic to get into the taxi and leave her best friends and their antics behind.

Jean didn’t doubt for a single minute that Hambone and Ev would shortly be receiving letters that good naturedly bemoaned Jean and Croz’s luck.

“You think you needed to look like this to get me to nail ya?” her Croz teases her now and his grin is lewd and Jean likes it that way, it matches the disrespectful hands that reach out without her Harry’s usual calculation and instead paw at her tits like a sex starved man. It sends a line of electricity straight to the little button between her legs and Jean ends up leaning into those hands until she’s suddenly so near him she’s on top of him and then, easy as anything, he knocks her sideways and under him once more. Legs splayed wide and with a husband lying on top of her with a very determined look on his face -she reckons the games are over.

“Gonna be like a second wedding.” she squeaks out, giddy eyed in excitement, toes curling in terror, he feels so big slotted at the spot.

Was he always so big?

Harry slings her leg over his hip and he’s suddenly in her without even needing to fumble for entrance. Little Croz pries her open all at once in a smooth, brutal, unyielding shove and that’s all it takes, he’s so overwhelmingly substantial that Jean finds herself bowing under him in a climax from the painful pleasure of reunion alone.

“Really, already?” he chuckles at her as she hoarsely keens out her ecstasy beneath him, her nails digging crescents in the flesh of his tense shoulders, his own thumbs stroking along her throat, “I missed you too, Mrs. Crosby.” he laughs.

She slaps at him, lovingly as her throat still hasn’t fully come back to use, “God you feel good.” She croaks.

“Just wait till you learn there’s more.” he teases before pulling his hips back and keeping that far tip barely nestled in her petals before slamming in again so forcefully she feels something funny in her chest.

“Bing!” it’s not a protest on her part but, my God -he, they…they used to give it the ole college try before he left, but this? This must be what it’s like to get really and truly screwed.

Screwing her, that’s what he’s doing and she wonders in a vague haze of helpless sensations if he’ll auger a hole straight through her back to the mattress with this merciless rhythm. She’s as vaguely impressed by his strength and capability as she is by her own body’s ability to absorb it, her freshly rediscovered hole burning at the use and somehow it’s all just a wonderfully heated, overwhelming miasma of delight as she keeps on seizing under him and he bullies her right though one peak after another with only a wicked grin on those full lips to suggest he’s got any idea what she’s so happily enduring.

“I can’t stop, I just can’t stop, it's just so -it’s so much.” she babbles, very keen to get her point across but very unsure what her point actually is. All thoughts, feelings and intentions center around Harry and that fat schlong of his rearranging her insides. She’s not sure her toes have been uncurled in over a quarter hour and her mind’s not been her own for longer still. “You’re so much.” she wails, and for half of it she means not his size but how long he’s been going at it.

“And you’re gonna take it.” he confirms, the hand on her hip inexorable and his pretty face is half snarling at her in desperation. “You miss this?” his voice shakes from his exertions and Jean is sure she’s never heard a more attractive sound than his wrecked breathing, “Miss this, huh? Bet you did, so goddamn tight. No married woman’s got any…any…any business being so tight. Gonna fix that, gonna make you so married you’re not gonna-“ he presses her legs back until she feels her hamstrings burn, knees to her chest, his body lunging into hers…angry again? she doesn’t know he just keeps grunting “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She’s milking him so perfectly, peaking and shuddering and clenching more frequently than he ever remembers and he should be so saved up he can’t manage to hold on but instead -the fuck if he can blow. It just won’t let go. The noise of his work is a lew phwap phwap phwap of split splat suction and from her whimpers and begs he knows he has already spent her but-

Goddamn! Came all this way, waited all this time and he can’t let loose?

Through the haze of her overstimulation Jean can feel something amiss, the tension back and worse than that, there’s the frustrated anger of before. Harry is breathing hard and his face is dark and the prominent vein across his alabaster forehead is popping so significantly she worries about stroke. He’s about to crack a tooth at this rate, his tension is so extreme and then suddenly, there’s a pause.

He stares down at the wet mess where they’re joined, brows knit together and mouth firm before a flicker ignites in his eye and in a fit of rage at himself and this deficient cock, he grabs at one of the decorative pillows and throws it across the room. It bangs dully against the window and flops to the floor.

Unsurprisingly the outburst against cotton batting and fancy trim does little for his pickle, he’s still stiff as a board and nowhere close to relief. He fought a whole goddamn war and came back just to not be able to get his rocks off. What a joke.

Gently as he can, and with rampant self pity running loose, he disentangles from Jean’s snug self and throws himself beside her on his back.

Bewildered Jean is more than a little grateful for the intermission. She does her best to collect her wits, looking over at him and clocking his defeated expression and closed eyes, the hand pinching the bridge of his nose. And poor Little Croz that is a furious magenta red with veins about ready to burst from swelling, sticking straight up from between his legs.

Shifting onto her side to face him rubs her poor kitty just wrong -or right- and a helpless mewl escapes her as she creams herself again from that little movement alone. The sound and shudder of his wife makes Croz crack open an eye, watching intently as Jean bites her lip and timidly runs her fingers through the hair on his chest.

“Come sit on my lap, Jeanie.” he mumbles.

She perks up with a smile, “Whatever my hero wants, baby.” she condones before shakily straddling his lean hips and sinking down with a noticeable squelch. It earns a drawn out moan of satisfaction from both of them. Sensing the agony and desperation of the man beneath her as she begins to lift her hips and slam them back down, juices splash on her feet from the movement. To lift his spirits she attempts her best at shoving her tits in his face while she does it and gets her nipples tugged in thanks.

This right here is perfect, she’s so full she can hardly bear it but he feels so good she ignores the burn of her legs and keeps her pace up, the beautiful expanse of her man laid out before her a perfect spur. The sun seems to have set by now and through the open curtains the sounds and lights of the city pour in, glistening off his sweaty skin like a million stars and doing nothing to dim the noise of his appreciative moans, the hoarse grunts of her name, the sounds of their sticky hips colliding.

“I've dreamed about being full like this every night since you left.” Jean tells him, stuffed beyond her limits it feels like he’s so damn deep he could describe the feel of her cervix in detail.

She can feel those tight bowling balls she's sitting on that need to unload inside her, and precariously she reaches backwards to fondle them with one hand, remembering how he used to react to it. She gets her first high pitched whine of the evening from him at that, his chest heaving and his head thrashing, curls everywhere. “Bing -- oh it's big, it's big, I'll take it all though I-I promise….we gotta make you cum, baby.” she determines, not needing the discarded pillow or fuming passion to alert her to his desperation, “Lemme help you…just fill me up, let it alllll out... you need to, must be aching so bad”

At the mention of the ache he begins to buck into her wildly like a feral thing. Jean would have toppled off from his vigor if he hadn’t seized her hips in an iron grip and held her still for his assault from below. Jean hears herself squealing and whimpering and begging nonsense, still a bit fresh -and respectful- to this new and ferocious side of him. Somewhere in it though, Harry’s beginning to crack, frustration going from anger to fury to desperation to some boyish and pitiful need for relief.

Harry doesn’t mean to groan so loudly, so pathetically but it’s all so perfect and he’s so damn close and Jean’s like a sprinkler down there she’s enjoying herself so much and -why the hell can’t a fella just blow?

Jean instantly stills atop him and cradles his face tenderly, soft searching eyes and lips whispering about …something, something something “baby boy” -and he shudders. His pants are harsh as if he’s about to have a heart attack and his chest is so winded and achy he thinks he might. Or else cry.

Wouldn’t that be fun.

Beneath his hands he feels Jean’s hips begin to flex and she’s grinding on him again, twisting her hips in a slow figure eight that feels like a man’s heaven beneath his palms, and ten times that for his cock. It’s not doing it enough to make him blow but for a moment he decides that’s fine, he inflates his poor lungs again and lays back, admittedly a bit too stiff and rigid, and touches her as she pleases herself on top of him. She giggles shyly to him and her near constant moans are music to his ears as she swivels on his cock. He enjoys watched the pink little folds absorb him and the way their curls brush and mix where they meet, his lower belly a wet mess and streaks of the same running down to her ankles, they’ve made such a soup.

Clam fuckin’ chowder, by the looks of it.

Maybe he did blow. Doesn’t feel like it. And after watching and coaxing her through another melting peak, he lets her sag onto his chest for a minute and regroup before, with a kiss to her hair and a hard smack to her ass, he tells her,

“Hands and knees, Jean, if you want that baby -hands and knees.”

He barked it like an order, and while a little startled by it, she still wastes no time in flipping herself over and off him, scurrying into the position he specified, shaky from so many orgasms and the anticipation of him back atop her. Wincing inwardly at the thought of that package at this angle with how sore she already is-

-and he wastes no time. But instead of a cock she feels the shockingly familiar but never less exquisite feeling of his tongue running up the messy length of her slit. Her face collapses into the pillows along with her pleased shriek of “Bing!”.

He he laughs warm and wicked behind her, enjoying the ass up display of what he’s done to her.

“Spread ‘em Jean.” he tells her, and two dainty hands leave off from gripping the covers to bashfully pull her cheeks apart and show her husband where his fat cock belongs. He can see her pulsing down like a living entity of its own, even in this dim light.

“I'll be good... I'll be good for you, Major. Tell me what to do.” Jean swears hoarsely, those fawnish legs trembling again.

“Just take me.” he mutters simply, mounting her suddenly with his hand on the back of her head, keeping her cheek to the pillow and her scream muffled as he shoves in and begins to plow this squeaking little lady like tomorrow is indeed not promised to men like him.

Beneath him, between the high pitched squeals of pleasure and the urgent whines of endurance, Jean is muttering a litany of …something. Again and again she’s saying words like “it’s ok baby, it’s ok” and Harry isn’t sure if it’s meant for him or her, she sounds like a drunk fairy and his head begins to buzz with likelihood. “It’s ok baby, they told me you'd be like this, it’s ok. I can take it. I’ve missed you—“ she just keeps muttering that and vaguely Harry is pretty sure that comfort is meant for him and he wonders who ‘they’ are and what ‘like this’ even means.

On Jean’s part she is legitimately unsure who’s she’s trying to convince, likely herself but also, maybe that part of her between her legs that’s torn between panic and absolute ecstasy at his rough usage. Jean's mind spins at the realization of how much she likes it, likes the feral proof of how badly he missed her, needs her, wants her still. Her sweet and mild Harry climbed on top of her and is now railing her, and while it’s not your average little jaunt in the sheets, she clings to her pillow and takes it with something like pride…in between the moments when Harry’s fat cock wipes her mind a starry white as her legs kick up helplessly beneath him and her back arches and her hole clenches and another happy mess slides down her inner thighs to the sodden sheets.

And all through it the best of it is Harry and his voice, half sane sounding for once this evening as if to balance out the animalistic pose he has her in, groaning above her,

“That's it, be my good girl..my good, good girl. Always so good to me.”

He’s petting her hair like she’s a damn Labrador or something, wrapping her beautiful curls around his hand, arched over her like a cat, it’s perfect and he’s so deep he thinks he could fuck his balls in, foot placed sturdily on the bed beside her for further leverage.

“-Croz! You gotta!” His wife wails nonsensically beneath him, he picks her head up by the hair to hear what the hell she’s jabbering about now, husbandly rights or how she was ‘told’ he’d be.

She’s so cock wrecked it ain’t even funny but when he prods her with a “What's that Jean?” between thrusts he gets a slightly more formulated thought-

“You gotta put a baby in me!” she insists through sobs, orgasm after orgasm turning her into this shaking, shuddering, limp excuse of a woman.

A loverdoll, for real.

Her words ping in his head like that damn red light everywhere he goes on base. A light at the end of the tunnel, an eminent thing he’s needed for. Tightness seizes his belly and takes him unawares, suddenly Harry’s roaring out a resounding,

“Oh FUCK! Jean! Fuck-“ that bounces around the room like a cacophony.

The hotel guests next door might be

wondering why a moose is dying in

Manhattan? But no sweat, it’s just Major Crosby seeding his willing wife.

Like a soothing balm on a surgical wound, Jean feels him exploding warm and sticky and healing inside her at last. It doesn't stop coming, rope after rope of the thick, steaming hot gold of his body swelling her own and this adds the finishing touches to what was already a melted woman. In his last rapacious thrusts, she can feel her body playing the minx, trying to squeeze him out but her Croz is having none of it, like a dying man to water, he uses every bit of strength left to shove himself back in and flood her until she’s a collapsed and leaking mess.

In a haze, Croz pulls his now mercifully limp cock out of her and surveys her wrecked self with bleary, appreciative eyes. “Looks like you been through a war of your own, baby.” he jokes but his voice is so wrecked from his previous yells it startles his newly moderated self and he ends up toppled over beside her, no longer capable of giving a damn about anything.

His eyelids refuse to stay open and his neck is laying funny but -fuck! He was just inside Jean!

“You ok, Bing?” he hears her sweet voice whisper beside him and it was no dream then, and God forgive him he was probably mean. She’s panting beside him and when he can’t manage to answer he feels her hand grab his wrist and gently guide him somewhere until he’s petting startlingly warm petals that are saturated with his spunk.

“Think you managed to open me up, alright.” she titters, still sounding drunk and he can’t help the way his cheek crinkles in a returning smile.

Smashed into the pillow as it is, it’s still the prettiest expression of the best man Jean has ever known. “Y-Yeah.” her man croaks, half insensible but his beautiful hand keeps petting her where she’s sore and recently excavated, his identification bracelet jangling softly in the stillness, “You were such a good girl Jeanie..a good wife…ya did your job.” he mumbles more, fully in Major mode as he begins to drift off, forgetting entirely that maybe a fella shouldn't praise his wife like she's one of his men gotten back from a mission.

But Jean takes the compliment well, knowing how it’s meant, knowing that maybe tomorrow when he’s more conscious and healed, she may be blocked out from that world entirely. It’s a little glimpse and she takes it for what it is, with soft appreciation. Smilingly she lets go of his hand to give deflated Little Croz some pats, the sticky, shrunken thing is playing at being harmless and she has a longing to meanly suck on it until it shows it’s true colors again.

But no, for now, Croz’s heavy and nearly insessible arm throws itself over her waist and drags her to him, slotting the married couple together like spoons in their drawer.

They could try to shower but that seems too daunting a prospect at present, and highly futile considering what lies in store -more of the same. And for her part, Jean doesn’t dare move and slosh and waste any of what her Bing gave her. His forearm is heavy over her battered womb, cum and abuse swelling it just that little bit as if she were on her menses. She’s not, those were two weeks ago.

When his hand splays and cups the swollen bulge he made, Jean whispers to his already snoozing self, “We made a baby Bing, I just know it.”

And if not— there’s four more weeks to make certain.

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[mrschristensen]

Kinktober Day 30 (10/30): Cockwarming starring Hayden Christensen

Kinktober Masterlist

WARNINGS: smut (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK), female s/o, dom Hayden/sub s/o, cockwarming, praise, pet names/name calling (lovie), (somewhat) orgasm denial/generalized denial, lmk if I missed any!

synopsis: Since it's spooky season (and Devils' Night), the couple decide to watch some scary movies; and it turns into a kinky affair.

WC: 340 words

In honor of Halloween just one day away, Hayden suggested that him and his girlfriend watch some spooky movies. Of course, she agreed, since Halloween was her favorite time of year and she loved watching movies that surrounded the holiday.

The movie he picked, though, was something she was extremely reluctant to watch. She absolutely hated jump scares (ironically), so she wasn't too keen on watching something that was apparently known for them.

However, he had somehow snuck his way into her Halloween-themed pajamas, and his cock was already buried to the hilt inside her before she could realize what was going on. So, he challenged her; if she was a good girl and didn't move, she'd get a reward afterwards. If she did, however, all he would do is torture her more.

"You're doin' so well, lovie," he cooed in her ear, his voice as soft as silk as he kept his eyes fixated on the movie. He could feel her throbbing around him occasionally, and all it did was spur him on more. He wanted this to be hard, but he also wanted her to face her fears; it wasn't real. He knew she knew that, but he wouldn't completely force her to watch something. If she wanted to stop, all she would have to do was ask.

But that wasn't the case; he was well aware that she was into it. And, funny enough, there were barely any jump scares in the movie; he simply told her that to just joke around a bit.

Every time a scene got intense, he'd teasingly thrust up into her, making her gasp and her breath catching in her throat. It was cute, really. But it was all the more arousing.

After the movie concluded, she went to get off, but he gripped her hips and held her in place before she could get the chance. "Uh uh, no. Not yet, princess. We're watchin' another one."

He was going to make her wait the whole night; and he was loving it.

[writingjjfics]

Pogues to the rescue!

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader, Platonic!Pogues x kook!reader

Summary: JJ and the Pogues come to rescue Y/n from her Kook family party.

Warnings: Kooks

Requested?: Yes! See request here!

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: Guess who's back? back again? It's moi! I apologize for how extremely long this took, life got in the way 🙂 also I did change the request a bit, and got some inspiration from the midsummers episode, hope that's okay! Oh and Sarah is not part of the Pogues for the sake of the story (not my gif)

The last few hours of your life have been a bore. You were stuck at this table with egocentric old kook people who could only talk about their 'perfect' lives and their well-succeeded grandchildren. You tried your best to show interest, but your mind kept drifting off. You nodded politely at them, and every so often, you mustered up a fake smile to make them think that you were listening to their boring stories.

When you noticed that their attention was no longer on you, which was hardly surprising considering how egocentric they all are, you quietly got up from the table and left. After quickly scanning the backyard in search of your mother, you, fortunately, spotted her in a conversation with her best friends. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you made your way inside the house to use the bathroom.

As you sat down on the toilet, you felt relieved. Not only because you could finally pee, but also after hours of miserably pretending to be anything close to a Kook, you could let your guard down here, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Taking your phone from your clutch, you check for any notifications that you might have missed in the last few hours. While scrolling through Instagram, you noticed your boyfriend had posted a video on his story. In the video, JJ was smoking his Juul, surrounded by the rest of the Pogues who were dancing and singing to some song in the background.

JJ's happy smile, as he hung out with the Pogues, made you feel a sense of joy for him. The Pogues are his true family and he deserves to be this happy and comfortable all the time. Sometimes you were jealous of their relationship. Even though your family has money and shows their love and care for you in their own, unique way, you've always felt like you don't quite fit in with them. It's as if you're the odd one out. At least the Pogues always have each other and their bond is unbreakable.

You snapped a quick selfie and sent it to JJ, showing him how extremely bored you were. After putting your phone back in your clutch bag, you let out a deep sigh, realizing you had to get back to the party before your mom would put up 'missing child' posters. However, as you reached for the door handle, you heard your ringtone go off. A picture you had taken of JJ at the beach during sunset a few weeks ago, filled your phone screen. A warm feeling spread through your chest as you answered the phone, grateful that he had taken the time to call you back.

"Party that bad, huh?", JJ chuckled as he spoke.

"If I have to listen to these fake people for a minute longer, I'll pull a van Gogh myself"

You could hear JJ snickering. "That's one way to answer that question"

"Can't you just hack into a system and send some emergency alert or something?", you whined.

"Honey, I'm definitely not as smart as Pope, but what I can do is try to sneak you away?"

"Tempting as that sounds, my mom would kill me"

"C'mon baby, we both know your mom loves her reputation too much to kill her daughter", JJ joked.

You rolled your eyes. "Very funny JJ, besides I don't want to be a burden to the rest of the Pogues."

You heard JJ scoff. Since knowing JJ, you've met the Pogues a few times, yet each meeting seemed to grow more awkward than the previous one. JJ always reassures you that the rest of the Pogues just have a hard time getting comfortable around the idea that he is dating a kook, or well just kooks in general, and that it's never because of your personality. "Before you know it, they will love you as much as I do", was what he told you occasionally. But you just can't help taking it personal.

"Y/n, stop being so stubborn, and let us help you. I want you here as much as you want to leave that party. Be ready in ten. I won't take no for an answer."

You were about to protest, but before you could, the distant chatter of the other Pogues in the background went silent, indicating that JJ had already ended the call.

After giving yourself a final look in the mirror and letting out another heavy breath, you opened the door and made your way back to the party outside.

Everyone was still engrossed in conversation, and it appeared that no one noticed you had been gone. It gives you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to slip away from the party without your parents noticing. However, at the same time, you can't help but recall a few years ago when you did the same thing, only to receive a month-long grounding from them.

After nervously looking ahead for a while, and making up different scenarios in your head, you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder. Irritated, thinking it's one of your parents wanting to remind you to be more social, you turn around.

"You look like you could use another drink. Can I maybe offer you this one?"

In front of you stood JJ, dressed up as a waiter, holding a champagne glass. He gave you that annoying but charming smirk of his.

You took the champagne from him and chugged the entire drink, making JJ chuckle.

"Thanks, you always know exactly what I need babe"

You and JJ both laughed and you turned around looking for your parents. Your mother was still talking to her friends, while your father discussed work matters as usual.

"C'mon, let's go before my parents see us leaving". You were still nervous about the consequences, but decided that, that would be a problem for later. There's nothing you want more than to be with JJ right now.

JJ took your hand and quickly led you to the front of the house. Before reaching the gate, he suddenly stopped and gave you a kiss.

"Hi baby", he spoke softly.

You smiled. "Hi, Jay".

JJ gestured with his head towards the gate. "The others are right outside waiting for us." He squeezed your hand to reassure you that it was going to be okay. You nodded and followed him.

As you turned the corner, you saw the rest of the Pogues waiting next to the Twinkie. They were talking, but stopped abruptly when they saw the two of you approaching. Pope waved shyly towards you, while John B approached you enthusiastically. "That was quick"

"Yeah, I thought those kooks would give you more trouble", Kie said, rolling her eyes and emphasizing the words 'those kooks'. You saw Pope nudge Kiara. “Sorry, no offense to you of course”, she quickly realized her mistake. You smiled weakly and shrugged your shoulder. 'Well, luckily I don't see myself as a Kook'.

There was an awkward silence until JJ cleared his throat and walked over to the Twinkie to open the door. "Let's go back to the Chateau shall we?"

You got into the back of the Twinkie first, expecting JJ to follow you, but instead, it was Kie and Pope as John B and JJ got into the front seats having their own conversation. Kie sat beside you and turned toward you.

"Hey, I want to apologize if we ever made you feel unwelcome. We just had to get used to a new person in the group, but we see how happy you make JJ and that is the most important thing for us."

"Yeah, and you're real nice and fun to hang out with Y/n", Pope added.

You smiled, "Thanks, that means a lot to me."

"And I'm actually happy there is finally a girl in this group, I love these boys but I also really need some girl time", Kiara said making everyone laugh.

You locked eyes with JJ who was already smiling and gave you a wink. A few seconds later you heard your phone go off and saw that you received a text from JJ that said "I told you they were going to love you." You rolled your eyes at him, but chuckled nonetheless. You finally felt like you belonged there.

The rest of the night was spent hanging out at the Chateau, laughing, dancing, and getting to know the Pogues better.

As for your parents, you later found out that they had tried to call you many times that night, so you ended up being grounded again, but you really couldn't care less because JJ and the Pogues were helping you through it. They would always be there for you.

aaaah the end!! so so happy I finally finished a fic again. I was busy with my graduation project and had massive writers block, but I'm back! So if you have any requests or you just want to talk to me? LMK ❤️ Okay, love you byee x

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

Starlo apologist speaks again

this picture right here.. i hate it sm.

TIME TO DEBUNK EVERYTHIN', YEEHAW!

#1 Starlo's name is uncool on purpose might literally mean 'Starloser' It fits his character arc. In other words, he's not the cool, badass sheriff he pretends to be (he's not 'North Star'), but a kind, friendly farmer inside

#2 He definitely DOES care about Clover. Why else would he keep saying he's proud of them, praise them, believe in them, get worried about their safety, send them a warning letter, immediately run to check what's going on with them, get angry at Clover for not staying HOME (yeah he really did consider the Wild East their home) tell Martlet to bring Clover to safety, and jump at Ceroba to try and protect them? don't question the love of star daddy

#3 Undyne actually IS a badass. Starlo isn't. He's a softie who cares about pretending to be cool bc he's insecure, even when in a situation where he could die. He wants to be a hero. He wants to be SOMEBODY, not a NOBODY. Maybe he also cared about his own status more than his town, friends and family (which could be the reason he brought a bb gun). Or he just wanted to buy time so the others could hide. Now that I think about it, it's the latter. Why else would Dina say this in genocide after you kill Ceroba: "He was more of a hero than you'll ever be." That's the whole point of his geno fight that, and a lil bit of angst when roba finds him dying IT'S CALLED CHARACTERIZATION

#4 He kidnaps Clover bc they're a human. The only human who's ever set foot on the sands of the Wild East. He's obsessed with human culture. His whole life ARE westerns. Why? Whether it's the sense of justice cowboys represent, the exciting lives they live, or both, Starlo feels like he matters thanks to this nerdy interest, like he can contribute to his community

#5 i see Martlet as a big sis not a mom bc of how young she is, despite that one joke in bits & bites, but to each their own Star jails Martlet bc of the potential of the Wild East getting shut down. She did threaten to report them to Asgore and well... according to him, better safe than sorry. He even admitted he doesn't feel right doing it

#6 It WAS wrong of him to blame and attack Clover like that, all for his own status and ego (and to get his friends back) It's called a flawed character making a fucking mistake. Or did you expect someone perfect, with no room to grow and develop throughout the piece of media? Also, Clover is not an infant, they're a child. If it was meant to be a joke, it ain't funny bucko

#7 he either actually forgot about the fact he himself kidnapped Clover bc he wasn't in the right mindset (understandable), or purposefully ignored the information to avoid responsibility for his actions & shift the blame onto Clover (he IS flawed and thats more than ok)

#8 in neutral, he doesn't apologize bc Ceroba doesn't come and snap him out of his fantasy & mindset

#9 he did his best with the apology. you can't blame starlo. He's not very good with expressing himself and emotions in general (that he has been avoiding for so long via escapism; he also uses escapism to help Ceroba instead of talking openly with her)

#10 he doesn't know how the ceroba & clover interaction played out bc he was unconscious. Maybe he thought Clover had managed to talk her outta fighting. He says in true pacifist "Yall had a fight?? and the deputy won??" In other words he didnt know they had even fought. To add fuel to the fire, his bff just died and star, being the forgiving sweetheart he is, had wanted to give her a chance at redemption, but never got the chance to. He never got the chance to say goodbye, either.

#11 just bc starlo's an adult doesn't mean he can't have these flaws/behaviors. Every individual is unique. Starlo is deff deeply insecure and most likely autistic, too. Please think about that in the future, thank you

my current feelings can best be described by good old Axis

[heartfeltcherie]

is it raining? no, it's just rayn!

i am here to give you a hard time/j and request an eeeeny meeeny luci comforting reader during a panic attack? thank you so muchhhh!!

COMFORT ᡣ𐭩

❀ summary; lucifer comforts you through your first panic attack.

❀ what to lookout for; mentions of a panic attack, pet names, lucifer being a dork, lucifer trying to make you laugh (and it works).

❀ extra notes; i most definitely based this off when i had a panic attack for the first time. to anyone who struggles with anxiety or mental health in general, you're not alone! my ask box and messages are always open if you need someone to talk to <3

- you were both sat on his living room couch watching some random show on the television.

- then you started to feel… weird.

- tiny stars began to cloud your vision, you felt like you were losing control, nothing felt right.

“luci?”

he hums in response, still looking at the tv screen.

“i don’t know what’s happening to me…”

- that sentence made lucifer turn his attention away from whatever was going on on the screen to focus solely on you.

- he saw how you were beginning to hyperventilate and panic.

- you were having a panic attack. how did he know this? he’s been through his fair share of them.

“hey, hey, dovey…” lucifer takes a seat next to you. “tell me what you want me to do- need me to do”

“need… hug…” you say weakly through a sob. as soon as lucifer picks you up gently and places you in his lap, the damn inside you breaks and you’re sobbing into his chest.

- he comforts you to the best of his ability; taking you through all the grounding and breathing exercises that he, himself, has had to use to bring himself back from being lost in himself.

- he tells you to breathe while he counts to three and then tells you to breathe out slowly. then he guides you through the 54321 grounding exercise.

- he tries to be funny and asks you to name the names of his rubber ducks that he’s made. he gets you to giggle a bit at that which was more than worth it to him because at least he knows he’s making you feel better.

- by now you’re breathing is back to normal, you’ve stopped crying and you’re finally back to your normal self.

- and when you realize what just happened… oh, the embarrassment that creeps in.

“i’m sorry you had to witness me being… like that… i don’t know what came over me” you apologize, looking away from lucifer in embarrassment.

“hey,” he brings a hand up to gently cup your cheek, making you look at him. “there’s no reason to apologize, sweetheart. what you just went through was called a panic attack, and they can be… pre-tty intense”

“have you ever had them before…?”

“oh yeah, tons of times. i’m like… the panic attack pro” lucifer jokes and you chuckle at him.

“i’m not sure that’s something you wanna be a pro at, luci”

- after this, you and lucifer have a talk about what’s been on your mind lately and what could’ve driven you to go into panic mode.

- but he also makes sure to remind you that he’s always here for you to give cuddles, kisses and make you laugh afterwards.

- and that he’ll make comfort pancakes. for both you and him, because why not?

❀ word count; 476

reblogs/hearts/comments and all that good stuff are appreciated !

audience; @crystalrayn @drxgonspine @alastorthirsty @speedycoffeedelight

© heartfeltcherie

[intothedysphoria]

The podcast was Steve’s idea.

It had started with a joke from Heather. She’d took one look at Billy and Steve’s accidentally matching gym clothes and told them they looked like a failing alpha bro podcast duo. The type of guys who’d talk about being alpha males. Billy had laughed hard but it had made Steve think.

They’d been best friends since kindergarten and were functionally inseparable. Billy had seen Steve through a long period of deep, dark depression and Steve liked to think he’d helped Billy through Neil. Most podcasts Steve had listened to, the hosts didn’t even sound like they liked each other. They’d be perfect.

It took Steve about a month to convince Billy to put himself in front of a microphone. For a guy with a 300k follower Instagram thirst trap account, Billy was crushingly self conscious about his voice. He’d been on testosterone for three years but still felt like he sounded “clockable.” It wasn’t until Steve promised that if they got even one comment about Billy’s voice, they’d immediately delete the episode, that Billy agreed.

Between the two of them, they had absolutely no qualifications to start an agony aunt podcast. Still, the first episode was released onto Spotify and it had a surprisingly warm reception. Most of their listeners were queer or neurodivergent and were asking about what to do when a hookup went wrong or how to go outside without having a panic attack.

It was heartwarming really, the affect Steve felt that they were having. Two trans guys talking openly about sex, relationships, social faux pas, fitting in and the occasional tangent on oyster forks wasn’t exactly common. And their audience seemed to cling to them like two older brother figures.

It was perfect. Should have been perfect. It was just that there was a bit of a side affect.

As it turned out, spending every week with your best friend, who was physically just your type, and was also just an absolute sweetheart, led to having a crush on said best friend.

That is if you were Steve anyway. Shit.

Most guys on realising they were crushing hard on their best friend probably would have done something normal, like tell him. Not Steve though. Steve endeavoured to lock himself in the broom closet and scream before every recording session of the podcast.

It would work. Hopefully.

Then Billy started getting random listeners proposing to him via email. They’d read them out before every advice segment and Billy would either accept or decline depending on how funny he found it but it still made Steve die a little inside. Billy felt like his in some intangible, indescribable way and even jokes about marriage felt like suffocating.

He redownloaded Grindr the next day. The guys on there left a lot to be desired, especially compared to Billy but at least it stopped Steve from feeling quite so lonely. He flirted, made decisions that made Robin tut and generally started morphing into the kind of hot mess Steve had been in his late teens.

Billy didn’t seem to notice. That is until he did.

Steve was very late for recording the newest episode, a silly one about accents. He hadn’t remembered to shave so the patchy stubble that hrt was helping him grow in was a mess. There was gum stuck to to the bottom of his shoe. Something had gotten spilled on his shirt.

His co host once again looked delicious. Delicious and worried. So worried in fact that he dragged Steve into the very closet that he’d spent almost two months hiding in.

There was only so long Steve could hedge around the issue. Not with Billy worrying about all the things that could have gone wrong, anxious brain in overdrive. Steve had to tell him.

A short, excruciating silence followed after Steve admitted his crush/budding love. One that the slightly irrational part of his mind was convinced would culminate in Billy punching him again.

That didn’t happen.

Instead, Billy called him a dumbass, they made out under a precarious tin of paint for fifteen minutes, and agreed that getting together was long overdue.

The first email they got from a listener after going public about their relationship was short and to the point.

Can I propose to both of you?

I think it was @camaro-and-smokes and @prettyboy-like-you who reblogged being interested in the og post about this idea and since I am a fic writing weirdo, I wanted to write a little ficlet for them! I hope you both like it

(Inspired LOOSELY by the hilarious Help I Sexted My Boss podcast which I adore. Also inspired a smidge by Lust For Life by @oopsiedaisiesbaby)

[mayasaurusss]

I've been thinking about transmasc!shauna :(((

-💗

A/N: Hi 💗anon! I'm so so sorry I took this long to make this but i was conflicted on two ideas I got, since i didn't know if you wanted a sfw or nsfw headcanon/blurbs or a oneshot so, since I'm so cool and amazing, I did both! So, expect a Transmasc!Shaun oneshot (with a little twist ;) ), to come out in a few days.

Warnings: sfw, short and maybe kinda rushed, ooc Shaun, he is a clumsy and embarrassed boy, he is taller than us here because I said so, beginning of a relationship.

ANON! If you wanted general transmasc Shauna blurbs with more details about you, him and his journey with transition, ask away! I'd be more than happy to do them! I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected, I wasn't completely sure about how to do this but I tried my best!

Shaun who would fall in love with you the first time he sees you reading 'Pride and prejudice' on a bench outside of school.

He is totally smitten with you. He definitely told Jackie right away about his little crush and she, like the best friend she is, made a detailed plan on how to get your attention. And, since Jackie has befriended you -came to your desk after you had just moved schools and, oh so casually asked to be your friend- at the start of the school year (Shaun thinks:"What? She hasn't told me?" with an annoyed look on his face), this could flow all more smoothly.

This detailed plan consists of: Jackie approaching you after class with the intent of asking you to hang out after school, Shaun barging in the conversation asking Jackie something about helping him with literature studies -which Jackie knows is your favorite subject ever in your course-, excusing herself from his demands and asking you to aid her friend. It's perfect, Jackie thinks, Shaun feels this is too much but who is he to complain? Everything goes smoothly till, when he has to act his part in the plan, Shaun accidentally trips on thin air and falls, the contents of his backpack spilling all over the ground and the remains of his coffee staining his papers and shirt.

He is silent, his cheeks getting red with embarrassment. Both him, Jackie and you do not move for a moment, until the first one to move is you. You neatly pick up the papers and books that have fallen near you, meeting his eyes and looking at him with worry, "Are you ok?". His lips feel dry and his blood pressure rises causing him to redden even more than before "U-u-hh I... I am okay...", he feels like he is going to melt on the spot.

When he gets up, you have already helped him with all of his belongings, Jackie hadn't moved at all from her spot, too embarrassed (even if she hadn't been the one to be utterly humiliated in front of her crush). You try to lighten up the situation, joking about it all, Shaun laughs with you but he is in discomfort: the only chance he had to be the 'cool mysterious guy' blew off of his face, leaving a clumsy and stupid version of himself to the girl in front of him. You, on the other hand, don't think of him in that way: sure it was a bit embarrassing, and also funny, but he must've felt really embarrassed so you don't think about it too much.

Sometime passes, Shaun for the first days after closes himself in his room, remembering it all and changing inside his mind what happened. Jackie tries to call him, but he is unreachable; everything is starting to get ridiculous so Jackie rings the bell of Shaun's house and finds before her, her friend emotionally destroyed. She tries to comfort him, but to no avail; he is also angry at her but he won't mention it, otherwise Jackie would never let him hear the end of it. Much to his surprise, Jackie says that you asked him, "Is he ok? I haven't seen him" and "If he still needs help with the exam, I am here". He is very much red by now, the little hairs at the end of his neck standing up and his eyes watery. "...Really?".

When you meet him again, Shaun is tidy, he wears one of his flannel shirts and gray jeans, he has shaved the uneven peach fuzz that grew on his lips due to testosterone, and has a small red cut on the left side of his lip ("Who knows what she likes?" he tells Jackie while messily shaving himself "And besides I don't want to look like a barbarian!" says while unnoticing the small cut that he made. "Ah!" Jackie laughs, "Now you look like you've gotten into a fight with a cat!"). He tries to act cool, despite his total lack of knowledge on how to. When he sits down with you for the study session, the common hall is silent and you have to whisper, causing him to get a bit flustered. Your study session is cut short when you guys start to have an actual full-on conversation; unknowingly, you both start to talk and laugh a bit more loudly than normal, causing both of you to be escorted out of the library. Out, you two forgot completely your duties and spent an entire afternoon hanging out and talking. You notice it's starting to become dark, and when you look at the hour you see that you've lost an entire afternoon of study: you apologize profusely to him, and schedule another meeting. He can't complain, he gets to see you more.

For a while, this is your routine: meeting, trying to study, chatting and losing track of time. Until the exam gets close, so you try to help Shaun as much as possible and, with little to no surprise, he passes the exam. You are so proud of him, very much so, but now there is the little problem of how to see him again; he doesn't need your help again after all, maybe he never did. So you stay silent, hoping he will reach out to you. Unknowingly to you, Shaun feels the exact same, staring at his phone on the nightstand and hoping to receive a call. But none of you make the first step, both too afraid of rejection. That is when Jackie steps in, barging into Shaun's home with new, like Cupid, she strikes him with "She wants to see you again, I think she might like you". He is on cloud nine, his heart pumps fast and it looks like he might die of happines on the spot.

He calls, asking you to meet him at the same bench he saw you sitting on the first time. When you come, he is all giddy and blushy, he tries to rub off his tension from his hands. His voice is struck in his throat, he is the first to talk "I think...I would like to see you again, if it's fine..." you would like to kiss him, you think, but you're not sure he would like it at all, so instead you mutter "Sure...I would like that too'' with a smile. Your eyes met and without notice, you locked lips in a kiss. It's passionate, it's relieving, it's months of feelings and desires all in one kiss. You let out a breathy laugh, causing him to laugh in the kiss with you also, his arms hug your waist and you his neck, impossibly close to one another. He sighs, his heart is speeding and he feels a happines so strong that it almost seems pain,"Thank you, thank you, thank you...", he holds you close and strokes your cheeks “Thank you!".

[boba-beom]

Hello 👋

Not sure if I can ask this but do you have any moots that remind you of each txt member?

EEE okay I may do multiple moots per member :> I will try and decide with moots I talk to since I can sense their vibes a lil more ! based off of assumptions and impressions!!! ty anonie for the ask, it was a bit tricky but I do love my moots, whether we interact all the time or not, I've at least seen a bit of how they are but these are the ones that stand out to me as of recent :>

YEONJUN:

— @nightlyawnzz : lia gives me yeonjun vibes in terms of the playful side of him. I can sense that when I interact with lia and despite us not interacting all the time, I think it can be fun talking to her! I think she can be cute too and in a way it reminds me of, again, yeonjun's playful side.

more under the cut!

— @junniieesbby : ANGIE! in this case, angie's fashion sense screams yeonjun to me. she's so hot (respectfully) and gives that stronger / intense(?) side of yeonjun, but not in an intimidating way. the petnames and words of affection screams yeonjun to me, idk if it's bc he's her bias but regardless, I think she does exude similar energy to him overall.

SOOBIN:

— @taegimood : this is from recent interactions, but I view mj as soobin bc I feel like they're living their best life. like they can do whatever and still be on top of things (this is also based off of impression and assumptions). I feel like mj has that maturity to them when talking to their moots and I think it's intriguing :>

— @lovejoshua : ilem is such a sweetheart, and so is soobin. like she is so loveable and gets along with everyone ik! she can be calm and collected but also chaotic when the time calls for it hehe a thing about ilem is that she's just so lovely to talk to, I could talk to her about anything! she too seems to be doing her own thing too, and I love that for her !

— @flwrseon : saph is gentle, like a flower. and from talking to saph every now and again, I feel like she can be quite shy at first but she really is lovely to talk to. esp when you talk to her about her interests?! then you'll pique her interest and I love seeing her talk about things she's into, even if I may not know much about it ^^ I think that's such a soobin characteristic!

BEOMGYU:

— @seolis-world : seoli emits chaotic energy in the best way imo. whenever I see seoli on my dash or in my notifs I sense the chaos and the energy she brings is always so bright and fun! I also feel like we don't necessarily talk a lot but it's always fun when we do! and that's something I feel is what's similar to beomgyu and me

— @naomiarai : despite our first interaction being chaotic, I do feel like she can also be fun to talk to. not just that but her works are unhinged in the best way possible, it makes me go feral sometimes 😵‍💫 and that's where the chaotic energy like beomgyu's comes from lmao

TAEHYUN:

— @agustdiv1ne : I've said this time and time again, but ashlee is so articulate with her words, in her works or talking in general and I associate her with taehyun for that. I also sense that realism and maturity with ashlee which I admire :>

— @koqabear : sol is another person who I look up to on this platform. another who is so eloquent with their words and super lovely to talk to. I'm trying not to fangirl as much but they remind me of taehyun because they seem so knowledgable. and that intimidates me sometimes but I find it interesting too!

HUENINGKAI:

— @mapofthemazeinthemirror : I get gentle energy from cee. it's giving me how hyuka can be gentle with others. but cee can also project that hyper energy too!! it's a fun dynamic and I want to get to know her more too :>

— @honajoong : with lex I feel like I get that mischievous hyuka side from her hehe the playfulness and the way she talks is fun in itself. she can be funny and I love her reactions to things. I think the inside jokes are fun OH AND SHE SEEMS LIKE THE MOST HUGGABLE PERSON EVER. I wish to meet lex one day actually ^^

[trans-queen-administrator]

Ok people seemed to really like the last post I made summarizing an unwritten fleshed out worm fanfic I had, so here's another! This one's an altpower and wait where are you going come back its good I swear.

(tw: suicide)

Taylor triggers with Ingenue's power after an incident involving Sophia (who is removed from the wards and not a part of this fic past this), and outs Sophia as a cape since Ingenue can see powers. She's forced into the wards because she has no ability to defend herself, is immensely powerful, and people will want her dead or on their side since she can out every cape in the city. She genuinely has no practical choice besides the Wards here, so she begrudgingly joins. It's not all bad though! She actually makes friends for the first time in so long :)

Her and Missy hang out a lot, and their powers synergize super well since Taylor can make Vista frighteningly powerful. She warms up to Dennis after some patrols, she can make his power non-touch based too! Dauntless is like a mentor figure, they meet up every day so she can make his charge way more powerful, speeding up his growth by like 3 times, and he gives her lots of advice, helps her begin to come out of her shell, and is generally chill. Good times.

So y'all remember that bit about Ingenue's power causing people to go insane in the long term? What if you didn't know about that and you constantly used your power on your friends? Wouldn't that be funny?

Clockblocker is the first to snap. He's on a train when he just decides fuck it, and freezes a pencil in the air. Everyone sitting to the left of him down the length of the train gets impaled by it, just goes clean through. It's covered up as a villain attack, he's ushered off to the asylum, and the wards are just. Really messed up by it. They miss him, they miss his jokes, and they don't get why he did it.

A week passes. Taylor confides in Dauntless about how she feels like it has to be her fault, like everything is, but he reassures her. It's fine, she's done so much good, sometime's people just go bad. Genuinely just a great pep talk, she still misses Dennis but she's grateful she has the rest of her friends and Dauntless is there to cheer her up. She also mentions how it's hard to walk around the city, she keeps seeing villains and she can't do anything about it. She mentioned a few weeks ago that a bunch of them keep going into the same building, but she's helpless and just has to sit by.

That night, Dauntless levels the Medhall building. A few E88 capes were inside and they fight, and he kills them. Everyone else in the building is injured at the least, collateral damage that Dauntless would have cared about before. There's no covering that one up, he's killed dozens. When he's caught more than half the empire is dead, along with upwards of a hundred bystanders, and he's sent to the birdcage.

Taylor doesn't leave her room for a few days. Vista reassures her that it wasn't her fault.

On their next patrol, Missy begs Taylor to use her power to remove her manton limit. Taylor doesn't, but she's pretty sure she sees the pattern now. Vista's going insane. Were the other two this obvious? Should she have noticed? Would everyone be alive if she had? Would she still have friends? How can she tell anyone about this, when she'll be blamed?

She goes to Piggot, pretty much accepting that she'll get birdcaged or something. She's a horrible person, she knows that. She never gets to talk to Piggot, because all the heroes get called into the field to stop an A class threat. Vista is twisting the city around her, killing countless people. She turns bullets back, she extends a knife with her powers like Jack Slash. She's finally proving what she can do, then they'll all see, and they'll respect her and let her fight the way she wants to.

(side note, ingenue's power makes people closer to their shards in this interpretation, which also means they're flat out way more powerful even without her touch after a while)

The heroes are fighting Missy, they're losing, none of them want to hurt her. Missy see's Taylor from across the city, she's using her power to see almost everywhere at once by distorting space. Within seconds, Taylor is next to Missy. She reaches out to touch her, if she can shut down her power then it'll all be ok and Missy can get help and they'll be friends again and it wont be her fault. The space between them is a mile long and a foot thick. Missy doesn't want her help right now, she wants to prove herself to Taylor so Taylor will finally appreciate her power and they can be a team. Taylor tries to look away as Missy kills someone, space is warped so her line of sight is directly on the act. She closes her eyes, and the space between her eyelids is stretched infinitely wide. She watches, unable to stop her, as Missy keeps killing and defending and destroying. Missy begins to try to upend the sea floor, to dump the ocean onto the city. She's taken out before that can happen. How doesn't matter, what matters is Taylor couldn't stop her. The city is in shambles, its her fault, she was RIGHT THERE and she couldn't do anything, she could just watch and watch and watch.

She tells the PRT about how she thinks her power is breaking people. She's banned from touching anyone. They don't do much more, legally speaking she's safe and it wasn't her fault. The rest of the wards don't talk to her anymore. They blame her, just like she knew everyone would. It's her fault everything went to shit. She can't blame them for hating her, she hates herself too. She sneaks out to go on a walk one night, when the hateful looks and resentment get to be too much. She sees a cape. Lung.

Taylor knows her power is practically useless alone, and she walks up to Lung and insults him, provokes him, riles him up to attack her. If she dies here at least she'll be remembered for dying as a hero fighting a villain, rather than someone who corrupts everything they touch. Lung burns her, bad, all over her right side. He lifts her up by the neck and prepares another fireball. This is what she wanted, but she can't do it. She twists his power, reducing his durability and fireproof nature to zero and ramping up his firepower. Lung burns himself to a cinder in seconds, erased by his own power once the protections were gone. Taylor gets burned again in the blaze. She couldn't even commit suicide without hurting anyone else. She couldn't even die without fucking it up. She's alive. Panacea refuses to touch her to heal her, for very understandable reasons.

She goes to the asylum, despite her request for the birdcage.

Filled with guilt, afraid to touch anyone and everyone, blaming herself for everything that happened, avoiding Dennis at lunchtime while he glares at her, closing up and being silent for days on end, haunted by the people Vista forced her to watch die. Her fault, all of it.

And that's the end! Woooo! She's broken forever, no coming back from that one!

[imagine-silk]

Hi! I’ve got a request if you’re still doing fallout 4 ones. Can we have our companions reaction to a SoSu who affectionately treats synths, especially their synth companions, as their grandchildren given most of them were made with Shaun’s DNA?

Like checking in on them a lot, making sure they’re taking care of themselves, being a bit overprotective given the lose of their spouse and Shaun, etc.

》Very cute. I've actually seen a comic that covered this topic kind of by nimblerscout here.

》I'm gonna retcon the plot a bit so the player knows they need to get to the Institute but needs to find a way in. So they know what a synth is and where they technically land on their family tree.

【Cait】 "Should I care? All I'm hearing is there a lot more people on the planet."

At first she doesn't really care, the act is genuine at that point. But when she sees how well you treat them and almost baby them she gets a bit jealous. No one ever did that to her, even when she was young. She will never admit to it, not even if you tried to torture it out of her. If you fawn over one of your grandkids in front of her she'll roll her eyes and look away pouting. Sometimes she'll think about if she's a synth so she can get the same treatment.

【Codsworth】 "Just so you know, I don't expect to make five-hundred lunches everyday."

He supports the idea to a reasonable degree. He loves the idea of you having grandchildren. Maybe you have a little more than the average nuclear family but that's they charm of it, wouldn't you say. That being said he will not allow you to house them all, there's hundreds of them. They can visit but only a few at a time and no more than four can live with you, not including Shaun, he will always make room for the young master.

【Curie】 "Oh my! A gift? Thank you. What a lovely thought."

When she gets her new body you immediately treat her as family. Not that you didn't treat her good before it's just different. And she loves the way you make her feel, absolutely loved and pampered. She doesn't really see anything you do as weird or questions it because you are technically right, she does come from your DNA one generation removed. With her new emotions you help her express what exactly she's feeling and try to give her positive emotions to understand first by giving her gifts or asking what she's working one and allowing her to talk your ear off. She's also the one that is most comfortable calling you grandpa/grandma.

【Danse】 "Good boy."

He was very confused when Dogmeat kept smelling him and basically fell in love with him immediately. Not that he ever really complained about it, he actually got very attached to him. If you were traveling with him Dogmeat would stick to him like glue. After he found out why and that you never told him it fundamentally broke something inside him. You knew and that's why you always tried to steer him to a different path. Your love was not only conditional but irreplaceable and would never stop. Unable to turn to anyone else he leaned into your love, knowing what it meant now. He can't remember the last time someone treated him like a child, not even in his earliest memories.

【Deacon】 "That's better than anything I could come up with."

He thinks it's funny... up until you give him the details about your son and spouse. He'll try to joke on the subject and shows you around the Railroad HQ, introducing who's your grandkids and who are just regular people. Because you have such a personal stake in synths well-being he has no doubt about where your loyalties lie. If you want to keep it a secret he won't tell a soul. You wanna tell the whole Railroad he'll get the equivalent of popcorn ready to watch the whole thing go down. He will also help you deal with Desdemona by stalling her so you can spend as much time with your son as you can.

【Dogmeat】 Sniffs before letting out a happy bark.

He's noticed how you are more protective of some people verses other, and he can tell the difference with how they smell. He can smell if someone is a synth or not which outs a lot of people as a side effect. To make up for it he is extremely protective of them and will go to bat for them as much as he does for you.

【Hancock】 "These are our new brothers and sisters. Give them a warm welcome.

As much as he didn't like the Institute after they were gone and the synths were displaced he had no issue with them, quite the opposite. He is more than willing to integrate them into Goodneighbor safely when news spread that the Institute was gone. Everyone is welcome in all shapes and sizes. When he sees you doting on them every time you visit he laughs. When you tell him they are your grandkids he laughs even more and encourages your behavior. The idea of you having nothing but love for freaks and weirdos makes him happy. You love the residents both old and new so he's all for it.

【MacCready】 "Grandkids? I mean, I guess you could call them that. I'd go for 'clones one generation removed' but whatever you say."

At first he doesn't understand why you even care for them in the first place. Sure they have your DNA but can you even call them your family. Once you explain exactly what happened he imagined if his son grew up and had kids he'd probably kill for them. Still, his son would never have hundreds of kids but he can kind of understand it. If he spots one of them he'll also help them knowing you'll probably pay him for it, or if you already have a close relationship with him because he knows it will make you happy.

【Nick】 "I'm not even sure we come from the same branch. Got a bit too many holes in me, if you know what I mean."

As far as proving you have the same DNA he doesn't really care about that in the slightest. If it makes you happy to believe that he's fine with it. But do not treat him like a child. He'll humor you most days and will allow you to go out of your way to help and protect him but he draws the line at patronizing him. He's mentally older than you and has to deal with weirdos and bigots all the time, don't add to that list of people that annoy him. But if you wanna crack a joke or two about it that's fine by him. Sometimes he even finds it funny.

【Piper】 "You knew?!"

You don't tell her about what Dogmeat does and what it means, you tell her it's just something he does that you can't explain. After you find the Institute expecting your son to welcome you with open arms you find out he's dying. So you spend what time you can spare with him as he slips away inch by inch. Piper doesn't know anything about what you're going through with him though and thinks the only reason you haven't destroyed the Institute is because your little boy is still in there, that you still need to find him or gain a way to access him. When she does find out she's pissed. When you've finally dealt with the Institute, after your son died, you decided to tell her. She doesn't stay mad for very long because you did follow through and ended their reign of terror.

【Preston】 "Can you... maybe help me figure out where to place them?"

He does and doesn't understand. He cares about the hundreds of synths that were displaced and you had a direct cause in that happening. Of course you felt a responsibility to them. But to treat them all as your children was strange to him, even more so when you had a hard time choosing where they should go. They couldn't stay in one settlement, there were too many. He regrets ever going to you to help decide this, you were taking a long time because 'you didn't want to choose favorites between your grandkids'. He ended up taking care of it and watched you say bye to every single one.

【X6】 "Could you refrain from touching me? No, I am not embarrassed, you are dirty."

He tries to avoid your fawning and doting as much as he can, especially while the Institute is running. If you don't listen to him he will eventually get annoyed enough to smack your hand away and tell you to stop again. But after a long period of time he just doesn't comment on it hoping you'll stop one day. You don't. When the Institute is gone and he gets stranded on the surface he better understands where you're coming from and will allow you to dote on him. But he will never allow you to protect him. He will always put himself between you and danger, forcefully if he needs to. You could talk him into most anything, a family picture, give him gifts, in private you can even get him to call you grandpa/grandma. Only in private.

[skzhocomments]

Mafia Book #2 - PART II - The Withered Rose - Chapter 8 - A proper new beginning (FINAL CHAPTER)

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

General masterlist

PART I - The Black Iris

---

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 7 (Previous chapter)

---

PART II - The Withered Rose

Chapter 8 - A proper new beginning (FINAL CHAPTER)

chapter word count: ~5.5k words

~2 months later~

“Yes, just like that, baby.” Chris moans softly as he feels Emilia swallowing his length down her throat. “You’re the best.”

Emilia hums in acknowledgment, gently scratching Chan’s thighs with her nails.

“Shit, I’m gonna burst if you keep that up. Come on, baby, let me feel you too.” He puts his right hand on her head, trying to stop her from sucking the soul out of him.

“I can’t help myself when you taste so good.” Emilia says after finally pulling back.

“Let me return the favour, love.”

“No need, just come here.” She puts her arms around his neck and pulls him back down with her on the bed, on top.

“Really? Are you already that wet for me?” He smirks.

“Mhm, daddy.” Emilia smirks as well, and Chris blushes. “You’re so cute when you get shy.”

“Cute is the last thing I want to be when you’re under me like this.” He looks at Emilia fondly and wastes no more time entering her.

She bites her bottom lip and holds back a moan, but when Chris presses his lips against her neck, sucking on the sweet spot he so conveniently remembers, she can’t help herself anymore.

“So good for me.” Chris praises, moving steadily in and out of her.

“Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Emilia. Cum for me, will you, love?”

Emilia nods shortly before feeling the waves of her orgasm take over completely. It’s always been like this with Chris; he knows exactly how to kiss her, how to move, and what to say to get her to come undone.

He follows her soon after and releases inside of her, confessing his love to her over and over again.

“Go get me some Plan B tomorrow, I can’t go through another pregnancy.” Emilia says a few minutes later after they’ve cleaned up.

She is now laying on his chest just as she used to do when they first fell in love, and she’s never felt more at peace.

“I didn’t get to witness the first one, though. It’s not fair.”

“Sucks to be you.” She chuckles, and Chan tuts.

“Which reminds me. Ivy’s 4 already. Have you looked into kindergartens?”

“Ugh, I know I have to, I just… I’m a bit anxious to be away from her.”

“You don’t seem too anxious now.” Chan remarks with a smirk. For the past 2 months, ever since they made up, they spent no nights apart.

“She’s always had her own room, so she doesn’t mind sleeping alone.”

“You raised her well.”

“Thanks, and now it’s time for you to take over. I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah? About what?”

“She’s still calling you Chris.”

“Yeah. She’s a cutie, can’t even pronounce the r right.” Chan chuckles.

“Wouldn’t dad sound better? I think she’s old enough to learn the truth, and I’m also ready…”

Chan smiles and kisses the top of her head.

“Wooyoung will be pissed.” He chuckles.

“Well, he’ll probably still be daddy to her, since he’ll stick around.”

“I know. I do owe him a lot, so don’t get me wrong. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Good. Don’t be.” She lifts her head to peck his lips, and then falls back down on his shoulder.

“Emilia, I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve been following some suspicious activity for the past 2 years. Someone has been trying to revive The Scarlet Rose.”

“What?” She asks surprised and raises her head again to check if Chris just tried to tell a funny joke.

Unfortunately, he looks serious.

“They re-recruited people through the newspapers, but they started a more hands-on approach lately. Jisung and Iris have been investigating, and apparently, your former boss had a son out of wedlock. No one knew about it, so it was easy to keep him hidden and train him to take over someday.”

“Shit. That’s… unbelievable.”

“Yeah. We thought we finished them off by killing the boss and his closest associates. We’ve been sloppy.”

“So… what are we going to do about it?”

“Changbin, Minho and I have been working closely to set up a plan to blow them up and finish them off properly this time. We want to go through with it sometime next month, if we manage to find their location.”

Emilia stays silent.

“I’m sorry for not telling you any sooner. I just… I kept putting it off.”

“Why?”

“Because… you will want to join, and I… what if something happens to you?” Chris frowns.

“Then, what if something happens to you? Or were you willing to sit this one out and let your friends fight the war on their own?”

“Of course not… all of us are involved in this.”

“Do Wooyoung and San know about this mission?”

“No… I haven’t told them either.”

“Well, I don’t know about Wooyoung, but I’m sure San would have a few choice of words to tell his old mafia.”

“Is there really no way to prevent you from joining somehow?”

“Chris, we will do this together. Let’s pair up and take care of each other this time, okay?”

“Okay. Let’s have a meeting tomorrow and sort it out.”

~

“So, let me get this straight, even if you took care of those bastards, they still found a way to get back on track?” Wooyoung asks.

“Yes. Those fucking roses, can’t get rid of them!” Changbin curses.

“So, what’s the plan, boss?” San asks, eyeing Chan.

“We have a plan, but…”

“But?”

“Going head-on wouldn’t be a problem.” Minho starts. “But there’s still that issue with their current location.”

“What issue?” Wooyoung asks.

“We discovered three of their possible headquarters, but can’t be sure which one of them they actually reside in. All of them are guarded, so if we pick the wrong one and fail, not only would the new boss get alerted, but there might also be pointless casualties on our side.”

“It’s not our style to go unprepared.” Seungmin adds.

“What if there’s another way? Something similar to last time?” Emilia looks around the table. “When we planned Project Thrips, Boss had a big party to celebrate a really important trade. Maybe his son will do the same to officially establish his position within the Mafia, and we’d find out where the party is held.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Iris adds with a nod.

“That would be amazing. We just need all of them - or at least most - to be there in the house while we plant our explosives, and BOOM!” Changbin mimics the explosion with his hands.

“I agree with all of you, but how would we find it out this time? We no longer have any inside man to do the job for us.” Minho asks.

“I could try to infiltrate their mafia somehow…” Hyunjin suggests, but it’s quickly shut down by everyone around the table.

“San, what about the man that saved you?” Emilia asks in a hopeful tone, moment when San’s face brightens up.

“It’s a long shot, but I’ll try to get in touch with him.”

“That’s dangerous. How do we know if we can trust him?” Changbin rejects the idea, before quickly adding “I meant that man, not you, San. We’re cool.”

“Sure, brother.” San laughs. “The thing is, that man was following the Boss’ orders only because he was indebted to him somehow… I told you, he’s all about favours and returning favours, not so much about loyalty per-se. I don’t know if he made the run for it after you guys killed Boss, or if he decided to stick by his son as well…”

“Only one way to know. I will find him.” Jisung stands up immediately and heads towards his office. San nods and stands up as well, following him out of the room.

“So, depending on what these two find out, there’s either Plan A – go berserk to all locations and try to kill everyone until we get to the new leader, or Plan B – Project Thrips Pt. II, where we find out their exact location, plant our bombs and watch the place burn.” Momo says.

“What’s sure, though, is that we need to get rid of them, otherwise they might become a bigger problem later on.” Felix butts in.

“Let’s kill them all.”

~

~two weeks later~

“Chris, higher, higher!” Ivy exclaims while stomping her little feet in the air.

“Ivy, what do we say when we ask someone to do something for us?” Emilia scolds.

“Pleaaaseee.”

“Oh my, you’re so polite. Since you asked so nicely…” Chris replies, pushing her swing more.

Ivy laughs happily while going higher, until eventually Chris slows the swing down.

“Noooo!”

“Now, now, we don’t want you to fall, do we, baby?”

“Why? Will it hurt?”

“Yes, it would.” Chris pouts.

“Ivy, mommy wants to tell you something.” Emilia approaches the swing and squats down in front of the little girl.

“What is it mommy?”

“Do you like Chris?”

“Yes! I love him!”

Emilia smiles.

“Well, baby, I have something to tell you. Come here.” She urges her to come closer with her finger, and Ivy squirms with excitement and leans down, almost pressing her ear against Emilia’s mouth.

She whispers something that Chris can’t hear to her daughter, and the moment she is done, Ivy starts giggling. She stands up and throws herself against Chan, who is barely able to catch her in time, so she doesn’t fall, and he picks her up in his arms.

“I love you, daddy.” Ivy says, hugging him, and Chris is left bewildered.

Sure, he’s talked about this with Emilia before, but he didn’t expect Ivy to be so receptive or start calling him something different so fast, and although he wanted nothing more than Ivy to know that he is her father, he thought he was content with being called Chris, and not dad.

Until now, that is, for the moment the words left her little lips, his heart swelled up in his chest and he felt tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

“I love you too, baby.” He kisses her cheek, and Emilia can’t help herself but hug both of them tightly.

She’s never been happier.

~

~one month later~

“Preparations are finally complete. Let’s recap.” Chris starts with a clap of his hands.

“I don’t like the sense of déjà-vu this is giving me.” Momo shakes her head and Emilia starts laughing.

“Don’t interrupt him. He might grow a second head and eat the table and everyone around it.” Felix chuckles, making Chris roll his eyes.

“Very mature, guys. Come on, this mission is important.”

“How do we know that we can trust San’s guy?” Changbin frowns. “What if no one will be inside when we get there?”

“We don’t know. That’s the beauty of this mission. We’re starting with Plan B and hoping that the man is not loyal to the Scarlet Rose’s new boss, and in case things go awry, we switch to Plan A and fight everyone that’s present. If there’s no one there to fight, we call it a day and come back home.” Minho shrugs.

“Okay, now stop talking.” Chris claps his hands again. “Team 1 goes to the East side of the mansion. This is me, Emilia, San and Hyunjin. Team 2 takes the West entrance: Momo, Changbin, Felix and Jeongin. Team three is made out of Minho and Iris who will infiltrate the mansion through the North wing. Team 4 stays outside the South side since it’s the least guarded, and keeps their eyes on us: Wooyoung, Seungmin, Jisung. Our other men will be close in case we can’t plant the bombs and need reinforcements. All clear?”

“Sure thing, boss.” San nods.

“Let’s finish them, once and for all.”

“Let’s blow their place up!” Felix smirks excitedly.

~

“Nervous?” Chan asks Emilia in the car as he notices her checking her weapon.

“No, just making sure I have bullets on me this time.” She chuckles.

“No longer making the same mistakes, huh?” Hyunjin smirks.

“Exactly, tomato head.”

“He’s a pretty good-looking tomato, not gonna lie.” San shrugs.

“Thanks, man. Right back at you.” Hyunjin friendly pats San’s thigh once, and the two start laughing.

“I see you’re totally settled in.” Emilia mocks.

“How could I not, when my darling lives there as well?” San asks with a bright smile and grabs her hands, and Chan clears his throat.

They park the car a bit further away in the forest surrounding the potential new house of the Scarlet Rose and slowly start approaching the villa on foot. Hyunjin climbs in a tree nearby and, as decided, sets up to surveil the area with his sniper.

Chris, San and Emilia manage to take down the guards at the East gate and successfully make their way throughout the gardens. If their informant has been right, about 5 more men should be stationed at the entrance of the house, patrolling around.

“Sure enough, five guards.” Hyunjin taps on the microphone on his ear to inform his teammates of what he’s observing through the sniper lens.

“Thanks, Hyun.” Chan replies. “We’re advancing towards the house.”

“I’ll cover.”

“San, you go to the right. Try to not let any of them see you. Emilia and I will take care of them and then head to the left and try to get in through the third window on the ground floor.”

San nods and grabs Emilia’s hand, making her turn around.

“Be safe, Emi”

“You too. I love you, San.”

“Let’s go on a date when this is over.” He chuckles, and Emilia playfully slaps his arm. She knows that San is just joking around. In the past months, they’ve talked a lot about their feelings, and figured out that they care way more about each other as best friends than as anything else. The years helped San realise that his feelings were never romantic; he simply had a strong urge to protect her and cared so much about her, his younger naive self mistook it for romantic love, when it had always been platonic.

San even went on a couple of dates with Momo, but it didn’t work out that well, so now he’s turned his attention to Hyunjin, much to Wooyoung’s annoyance, who is sporting the biggest crush on San but has no confidence to actually do something about it.

Emilia finds it all amusing.

They bid each other farewell and promise to meet as soon as possible, when the mission is over.

They hug tightly before parting ways, and Emilia and Chris carefully start walking through the gardens, hiding themselves behind bushes and trees.

“You take that one.” She mouths to Chan, pointing to one of the guards that’s closing the distance between them. “I’ll take the other.”

Chan nods briefly and steps away from the tree, hitting the guard swiftly behind his neck, making him pass out in one move.

“Nice.” Emilia smiles and applauds him silently.

“Your turn.” Chan whispers.

She crouches down and picks up one of the syringes in her pockets, blowing it through a tube. It hits the guard in the thigh, and he curses briefly before looking down at his leg.

By the time he realises what happened, he grows dizzy and falls to the ground.

“Wooyoung and Jeongin working together on sedatives is pretty scary.” Chris affirms, hitting the guard with his leg to check if he’s really passed out.

“They seem to get along well.” Emilia chuckles.

“Stop flirting and move along, there’s 3 more right in front of you. They’re having a cigarette break or something.” Hyunjin speaks right in their ears.

“Should we take them all out?” Chris taps on his earpiece.

“Yeah, they look distracted. I can also shoot if you want me to.”

“No need. It would only attract attention. Let’s go, Emi.”

“Shit, I’m a bit wary of body combat.”

“You trained with Minho every day. Have some faith in yourself.”

“I still can’t take you on in a fight.” She frowns, and Chris chuckles.

“No, but I doubt these guys are on my level, love. You can start training with me after this mission, if you want.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now let’s go.”

They move quietly and, after a few deep breaths, they get out of hiding and jump the three guards who are completely taken aback. They don’t have enough time to draw their guns as Chris relentlessly starts attacking two of them, and Emilia takes care of the third.

“You’re a pretty tough guy, aren’t you?” She asks breathlessly after hitting the guy with all her force a few times.

“A weak girl like you could never win against me.” The man chuckles lowly and launches on her, but she is quicker. Even if she’s never been that good at body combat, what she’s always been good at was tricking people into doing exactly what she wanted them to.

As he jumps to hit her, she manages to grab one of the syringes from her pockets and sticks it deeply in his arm, at the cost of a punch that misses the real target - her jaw - and lands in her chest.

The pain is so strong, she can’t breathe for a few seconds, and she thinks in horror about the bruise that will form there, as the man falls unconscious to the ground.

“I don’t have to be stronger than you. I just have to be smarter.” She says with a smirk.

“Emi, a little bit of help here!” Chris shouts, making her turn around just in time to see him get hit in the stomach by one of the two men.

She doesn’t have enough time to come closer as Chris lands a strong punch in that guy’s temple, making him go unconscious as well. The other was already laying down on the ground.

“What did you need help for? You took them both out.”

“Oh, I didn’t need any. I just wanted you to see how cool I am when I’m fighting.”

“You still got hit.” She chuckles and pecks his lips.

“Oh, my. It hurts so bad you’re going to have to take care of me when we get back.” He smirks against her lips.

“You two are disgusting. Can’t you wait until you get home?” Hyunjin says through the earpiece, making the two laugh.

“Hyun’s right. Let’s go do our part and withdraw.” Emilia grabs Chan’s hand and they both start walking slowly towards the third window of the mansion.

Chan kneels down on one knee to allow Emilia to lift herself up using him, and then, she helps him up as well.

“Sky, how’s it going?”

“Team 3 is in. San already planted his bomb. Team 2 is still fighting. Need me to connect you to anyone?”

“No. We’re planting the bomb then going to find the new boss.”

“Be careful.”

Emilia takes out the small device from her pocket and they find a spot in the bookshelf in the room to place it securely.

“Momo challenged herself with these things. Brilliant idea.” She praises, unable to understand how such a small thing would be able to cause a big explosion.

“Right?” Chris smiles. “Our team only has the best.”

“You picked them well.” She smiles back. “Okay. We’ve done the easy part. Now… we have to find the new boss.” Emilia’s voice falls, and she starts getting anxious.

Infiltrating a house is never hard, but since they are unsure of their source, they decided to also look for the boss to confirm the boss is actually there.

“Before we go…” Chan starts. “Last time we had a mission together, you told me something. I feel like it’s time I tell you this, too. Emilia, we don’t know how today might go, so I just wanted you to know that I’ll always be on your side, no matter what.”

Emilia smiles.

“I know that already, Chris.” She kisses him, and when they part, they take a few moments to look into each other’s eyes. “And I on yours.”

“I know. I love you.” Chris places his hands on the sides of her face and kisses her again, deeper this time.

It’s hard for him to pull back, unaware of how tonight might go, so he makes sure to kiss her as if it would be the last time he’d get the chance to.

It might be.

“Now, let’s go.” He says after reluctantly breaking the kiss, and she nods.

They open the door and exit in the hallway on the ground floor. Multiple voices can be heard from all around them, signalling that the mansion is full.

“Maybe it would be better to just leave. We’ve already planted our bomb.” Emilia grabs Chan’s hand to stop him, but he shakes his head.

“We must do it better this time around. Besides, what if the others aren’t successful in planting their bombs? He might get away without a scratch. We can’t let that happen. He might not even be here.” Chris speaks, trying to sound convincing enough.

Truth be told, he’d much rather abandon the mission while both Emilia and him are still alive and well, but he knows he can’t.

“Damn, why are there so many people h-”

“Shh.” Chris covers her mouth with his hand and looks at her in panic. Someone is getting closer to them. They hold their breaths as they enter a random room, that’s thankfully empty.

“That was close.” Emilia whispers.

“We have to be careful. The boss’ room should be on the first floor if San’s informant is right, and in order to get there…”

“There’s four more rooms to pass until the staircase.”

“Shit.” Chris curses. “Okay… we can do this.”

Emilia grabs his hand and feels her chest get tight, unsure if it’s because of the impending sense of doom, or if it’s the result of the hit she received earlier.

They wait for a few more seconds before going back in the hallway and they try to control the anxiety rising in their chests. The breathing is the hardest to control, but they can’t be loud. Not now, when being discovered would equal certain death. No matter how skilled they both are, they couldn’t possibly escape a hallway of death while surrounded by armed enemies from all sides.

Through sheer luck, they manage to pass by the 4 rooms without anyone bumping into them in the hallway or noticing them passing in front of the doors, and they find the stairs.

They open each door on the first floor but find no one inside, until they finally get to the last door. They pray and pray that the boss is in the mansion in his room, and not on the ground floor in the living room with his guests, or even worse, in one of the other two mansions, and once they open the last door, they are relieved to notice that their prayers have been answered.

However, things can never go so smoothly.

A gun is pointed right at Chris as soon as he steps into the room, and he doesn’t get the chance to prevent Emilia from following him inside. The door closes behind them as soon as she does.

“Who are you? Why have you come here?!” The man inside raises his voice just as Emilia enters and sees San on the ground, beaten to a pulp, with a pool of blood under him.

“Oh my God!” She exclaims in horror.

“Answer!”

“Chris, where are you? San confirmed earlier that the boss is in his room, so you no longer need to go to check. We’re blowing them up. Team 2 confirmed they’re done. Setting up the countdown now. You have 5 minutes to get out.” Seungmin announces through the earpiece, but it’s too late. They’re already there. San is already there and lost the battle against the boss.

“We came to do what’s right.” Chris answers eventually, feeling anxious and unsure, but not letting it show. The situation doesn’t look too promising. He doesn’t know if San is dead or alive, but by the looks of it, he’s not very hopeful.

He also doesn’t know how to avoid getting shot in such a compromising position. He can only pray the man has shit aim.

“And what is that supposed to mean? Don’t tell me, you’re the bastards that killed my father!”

“And proud.” Chris chuckles. “Now we came for you. Your whole mansion is surrounded by our men. Even if you somehow kill us, there’s no way out for you. You’re all done.”

The boss contemplates Chan’s words for a few moments, before bursting out into a maniac laughter.

“Well, if I am to die anyway, let’s go to hell together.” The man screams at the top of his lungs and presses on the trigger, shooting Chris right in the chest.

Emilia’s eyes go wide as her lover falls to the ground in front of her, and her reactions have never been quicker. With her gun already in her hands, it’s easy enough to point and shoot that man, who instantly lets go of his pistol and grips the wound frantically with his hands, trying to stop the bleeding.

She’s never felt worse, and she hates the déjà vu feeling this whole situation gives her. It’s just like five years ago, when Hyo shot Felix in front of her eyes.

Once again, she is powerless, and she couldn’t prevent it from happening. Both San and Chris are on the floor, heavily wounded, and she doesn’t know what to do, who to help first.

Damn, why did they come to this mansion?

Why?

Why did things have to go like this?

She starts shaking uncontrollably as her eyes swell up with tears, and she kneels down next to Chris to check the damage. He’s closer than San, and while San’s been bleeding for a while, Chris has just been shot, so maybe, just maybe, there’s something she can still do.

“Chris! Oh God!” She exclaims while grabbing him and raising his head from the ground, but to her surprise, he sits up himself with a groan.

“Ugh, it feels like I’ve been hit with a baseball bat.” He touches the place on his chest where the bullet hit him.

Emilia looks confused for a second, before Chris starts talking again with difficulty. His brows are furrowed and his jaw is clenched, but still, he manages to stand up on his own holding the painful spot on his chest.

“Bulletproof vest. I’m not repeating Felix’s mistakes.”

“You idiot! I was so scared!” She cries out and stands up as well, hugging him tightly.

“I’m alright, fuck.” He pets the back of her head to comfort her. “Is he dead?” He points at the man hunched on the floor, and Emilia realises she hasn’t checked. She’s sure she’s hit him, but…

“Three minutes and the place explodes. Did you get out yet?”

They ignore Seungmin’s question as she stands up and goes to the man that’s hurling in pain.

“You bitch… who the fuck are you and how dare you-” He turns around to look at Emilia, then cowers in fear at her expression; her eyes are darker than the black of her hair, and her bright red lips turn into a sadistic smirk.

“Just a scarlet rose that’s withered completely. Now, go see your dad in hell, you bastard.” She shoots him one more time, ending his life.

“We have to get out now, Emi.” Chris grabs her hand. “Let’s-”

“What about San? I’m not leaving him behind for the second time.” She cuts him off with haste, running towards the man on the floor.

“Of course not. I was just about to say that we should grab him together and get out of here.”

Just then, steps start being heard from the corridor, making the couple turn their heads at the door.

“Shit, they’re coming this way. What do we do?” Emilia looks at Chan with panic in her eyes.

“Two minutes. Guys, we’re getting worried. Everyone’s here except for the three of you in Team 1.”

“Coming out now, Sky. We have to jump from the first floor.” Chris touches his earpiece and speaks hastily.

“What?!”

“Make sure you come get us. San’s hurt.”

Emilia helps Chan lift San’s body up. They are still not sure whether he’s dead or alive, but it doesn’t matter. Even if she had to drag his lifeless body out, she would. There’s no way in hell she’s leaving him here to die with these bastards.

“We jump at 3, okay? 1, 2…” Just then, the door opens, and Chris turns back and smirks before the three of them jump out the window.

“One minute! Are you out?!”

“Yes, come help us, fuck.”

A black van pulls right next to the mansion, and Wooyoung and Jisung run out, helping the three of them inside. They start driving away immediately, before the other guards have time to gather outside.

“Thank God you’re back, the place will blow up in 20 seconds.” Jisung speaks.

“Are you hurt?” Chris grabs Emilia’s hand to get her attention, as she was anxiously looking over at Wooyoung examining San.

“No,” she shakes her head, “my legs hurt a bit but I doubt it’s anything serious. You?”

“I’m good.”

“How’s San?” Emilia asks in panic, looking again at Wooyoung, who sighs with relief.

“No gunshots. Nothing too serious. Thank God. He’s just unconscious.”

“But there was so much blood…” She frowns.

“Nosebleed. He’s fine.”

“Do you think-” She starts again, but gets interrupted by a powerful explosion sound.

“Sky, connect me to Team 2 and Hyunjin.” Chris instructs Seungmin, who nods and follows the orders immediately.

“What is it, Boss?”

“Let’s meet up so Jeongin can come in this car and nurse San with Wooyoung. Hyunjin, I need your car.”

They do as commanded and meet up following a GPS point on the map that Seungmin set up. Chris grabs Emilia’s hand and pulls her with him in Hyunjin’s car, making him move to Team 2’s.

“Where are we going?” Emilia asks after putting on her seatbelt.

“Just up the hill. We need to watch the show after starting the fireworks, don’t we?” He smiles cunningly.

When they reach the top of the hill, they look at the mansion in the distance, now completely taken over by the flames.

“It’s finally over, hm?”

“Yeah. It’s all over. We did it.” Chris embraces her from the side and presses a kiss against her temple.

“So, no more threats for now.”

“If we don’t take into account the pain in my chest from that bullet, sure.” He puts his hand on his chest where the bullet hit the vest. “I think it’s bruised. It hurts.”

“I’ll have to kiss it extra hard tonight to make it better.” Emilia smirks, and Chris bursts out laughing.

“So… I guess we can now focus on a proper new beginning, hm?” He holds her hand, and she smiles.

“I guess so.” Emilia lifts his hand and kisses it, and then embraces him tightly. “We still have to pick out a kindergarten for Ivy.”

“Right! How could I forget?” Chris chuckles.

“Ugh, what will she even tell them when they ask her what we do for a living?”

“Hmm, mommy’s a stay-at-home mom, and daddy owns a business.”

“That does…?”

“Uhm… trades?” Chris tilts his head and Emilia starts laughing.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter that much. As long as she doesn't find out about any of this, we’re good.”

Chris nods, looking fondly at Emilia.

Her eyes move from Chris to the burning mansion, as she presses her head against his chest.

“Watching the building you just set on fire burn does look pretty romantic though, doesn’t it?” He asks.

“Mhm. My favourite sight.” She raises on her toes and pecks his lips.

“Shall we go home now, my love?”

“What- just like that?” She asks, and Chris looks taken aback for a few seconds.

“What did you think was gonna happen?”

“I just… this would’ve been the perfect chance for you to-” She starts, then bites her tongue back and frowns.

“For me to what?” He asks amused.

“For you to- God! Nothing!” She turns around, annoyance in her tone.

“Emilia.” He chuckles and grabs her hand, making her turn around, and when she does, she notices a smug smile on his face.

“You shit eater!” She crosses her arms in front of her chest as he goes down on one knee.

“Marry me?” He pulls out a small box from one of his pockets and opens it, revealing a beautiful tear-shaped diamond ring nestled within a cradle of gold.

“Shut up.” She kneels down as well and hugs him tightly, then kisses his lips. “Where did you even keep this?”

“I might’ve switched those syringes for this box.” He confesses, averting his gaze.

“That’s dangerous and reckless!”

“No, what’s dangerous and reckless is you not answering my proposal! I’m a mafia boss, have you forgotten?” He chuckles, and she rolls her eyes. “Answer me or I’m not giving you the ring.”

“Oh my, what a threat! Fine.” She chuckles. “But only because of the ring. Yes. I’ll marry you. God!” She exclaims as if exasperated, and both start chuckling.

“I never really cared about marriage before, but it seems to work great for Minho and Iris.” Chris contemplates out loud.

“Well, we one-upped them by having a kid first, so…” Emilia shrugs, and they laugh again.

“I love you and our little family so much, Emilia.”

“I love you too, Chris.” She lets him place the ring on her finger, and then kisses him deeply. When she pulls back, his eyes sparkle with the red light coming from the mansion engulfed in flames.

“We should get going, our daughter is waiting for us at home” He smiles with fondness in his eyes.

“Mhm. Maybe we should stop by a hotel first, though…” She winks.

“I like how that sounds.” Chris grins, and they share another intimate kiss, overflowing with affection and love that fills not only their hearts, but their whole souls.

~The End~

---

(A/N) We have finally reached the end of this series. Thank you for reading 'The Black Iris and the Withered Rose'! Since the Mafia Series is currently done with this book, I wanted to go through its history for a little bit. It all started with a Oneshot titled "CB98" (basically the first chapter of 'The White Lily') that I posted on Wattpad in my Oneshots Book on the 22nd of July 2022, and I never intended it to be more than a simple oneshot. I changed my mind after a lot of positive feedback and started creating a story around it that took 10 months to complete.

(see how important the feedback you give authors is?)

Afterwards, I created 'The Black Iris and the Withered Rose', which took another 10 months to write. In total, the two stories have about 100k words, and I've spent more than 220 hours working on them during a period of about one year and a half. That's absolutely crazy, and I can't believe it's actually over now! Although this chapter marks the end of the second book in the Mafia Series, I left some loose threads to be able to come back to this universe with other characters in the future. I think it would be interesting to explore the past of all of the members, how each of them got in the Mafia, and also show their present and future. This is, however, something I haven't planned on yet, so I cannot say if it would really happen or not.

Do let me know if you'd like to read more stories in this Mafia Universe, though!  (again, I'm insisting on the importance of feedback. None of these two stories in the series would've ever happened if people wouldn't have messaged me to ask me to continue the story.) I hope you enjoyed this story, and I'm really grateful to everyone who liked, left comments, and went with me through this adventure.

I also hope I'll see all of you in my notifications again, and that you'll read my other stories, as a lot of time and effort goes behind each individual work. Thank you once more, stay healthy, and let's meet again in another story!

Yours truly, Storm

[free-for-all-fics]

Stupid, silly Namor or Attuma fic ideas. Don’t think too hard about these they’re just funny little ideas. Pls tag me if you write or get inspired by any of these. Like always, there are no rules:

1. The reader is labeled as the village idiot because she likes to sing with her head underwater to "sing to the mermaids". The village ridicules her for it. One day, she is swept out in a riptide, and no one is willing to come to her aid—no one from the village, that is.

2. Reader is full of bad puns and dad jokes, much to the chagrin of Namor/Attuma. "Why are seagulls called seagulls?"

“Stop now.”

“Because if they flew over bays, they'd be bagels! Oh hey, What did one wave say to the other?"

“I swear, if you make one more ocean related pun, I will murder you on this island and tell everyone you died in a shipwreck."

"...well, someone's salty."

3. You put a message in a bottle and set it out to sea in the hopes it’ll reach Namor/Attuma so you can be pen pals. “Oh my god I love you but you’re so stupid.” They say because you have no idea that’s not how mail works.

4. You’re in love with Namor/Attuma, but you’re also obsessed with monsters and cryptids so you keep asking them questions like “Is the Kraken real?? What about 6 headed hydras? Have you seen Nessie?? Are they friendly? Darling tell meeeeeee”

5. Reader does that stupid prank thing where she pretends to do a magic trick with an egg and a bottle of water. She’s like “Ok now look inside” and squeezes the bottle, spraying water in Attuma/Namor’s face and runs away cackling.

6. You introduce Namor/Attuma to a wonderful human invention - Water beds. They are less than amused. Reader, consider your sexy time privileges revoked😑

7. Attuma/Namor trying to teach reader combat and how to fight like a Talokanil but reader keeps making it sexy and Namor/Attuma is like “Ok maybe we should stop. You’re not even listening to me or learning anything properly!” And reader is like “Oh I’m learning all the right techniques perfectly. 😏😘”

8. Those videos from EVNautilus of the people in a submarine coming across a dumbo octopus and a googly eyed stubby squid but instead it’s scientist reader being shown Talokan by Attuma or Namor and fawning over the sea creatures because they’re just little guys. Sweet underwater babies. And reader being like “it’s just a baby can I adopt it pls” 🥺 and Namor or Attuma being like “pay attention. Remember why we’re here.”

9. “Your child brings home a raccoon, mistaking it for a cat and begs to keep it” trope but instead it’s Namor/Attuma and their child has brought home an anglerfish or some other hideous abomination of the sea. It’s surprisingly docile and follows the child around like a pet anyway so can we keep it??? Please father 🥺

10. Namor and Jeff the Land Shark crossover. That’s it. That’s the post. Reader wants to adopt Jeff as their child. He’s just a baby 🥺

11. Peter Pan “They were just having a bit of fun, weren’t you, girls?”

“We were only trying to drown her” Mermaid Lagoon AU

12. “General, I’ve brought the cartographer into the war meeting today. I believe you owe her an apology for ruining all her maps when you stab them to dramatically mark a location.” (What if the “cartographer” is actually Attuma’s small daughter or sister drawing doodles of maps and playing pretend/mirroring what her dad or brother does because she wants to help and it’s all in jest hehe)

13. 2 days ago you went to an animal shelter and adopted the most adorable cat. What you don’t know is, he’s the reincarnation of an Aztec god. Your food offerings are unacceptable and that ugly small box that feels like it’s made from scratchy carpet will not do. No. He’ll be sleeping in your bed with you. Don’t try to lock him out; he’ll just scream and sing the songs of his people until you let him back in. (Or maybe through a magic mishap Namor has been accidentally transformed into a cat. Yeah Namor as a cat AU. I told you these ideas were silly.)

14. “Would you still love me if I was a worm” meme With Namor or Attuma but instead it’s “Would you still love me if I was a sea cucumber” or something ocean related

15. Namor or Attuma are taking their daughter trick or treating this year and ask what she wants to be for Halloween. A superhero, a mermaid, a princess? No. She wants to be a horseshoe crab. Possible Modern AU.

16. Reader goes to the beach often and befriends the seagulls/pelicans. So they start to bring her gifts like shells, rocks, etc. Except one day they bring you a golden bracelet, beaded necklace, or jade earrings (your choice of which). It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. A few days later, Namor shows up at the beach, looking very annoyed as he asks for his necklace/bracelet/or earrings back.

17. You and Namor or Attuma meet on the beach in your special spot. You don’t get to be with him often considering he’s kept away by his responsibilities and loyalty to Talokan, and you’re human. It’s usually your only chance to have time where you can just quietly love each other. Except a stupid fucking seagull or pelican has been following you to both the beach and your home; squawking incessantly, wreaking havoc and basically cockblocking you. Untitled Goose Game AU but it’s a seagull/pelican.