#errors?? sure go ahead and live!

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language; s.g.

synopsis: when gojo satoru first fell in love with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, gojo is head over heels (love at first sight), hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo just being an absolute fool in love, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: I've been wanting to create a sort of anthology series for some of my favs so here's a test run! I rlly wanna do lil drabbles/oneshots that can both be standalone but also can be read as something continuous revolving around Gojo's story with his soulmate... pls lmk if you'd like to see more of gojo and his mochi (aka you!)

Gojo Satoru didn't entirely know what love was; what with being raised by other people who weren't his actual mother and father, how could he? All he ever knew was a life of being the Honored One, since the day he was born. Nothing but a weapon. Living as the strongest and treated like a god... he never knew what real love felt like. He never knew what it was like to give or receive it. At least, not this way.

Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko were his best friends, the closest thing to real family. It wasn't like he didn't have any, at least not while growing up, but were they really family when all they ever did was train him and treat him like the eighth wonder of the world? Unlike everyone else, at least Suguru and Shoko treated him like a human. They loved him for who he was, but didn't hesitate to snap him into place when his ego was too inflated. They were there for him, even when expressing whatever demons that he held within him was hard to manage. If it wasn't for them, he wasn't sure exactly how he'd go about his life. Sure, he'd act like everything was fine and dandy, money could buy him happiness as he had plenty of it... and he was pretty much unstoppable, but the idea of living a life without either of them didn't sit well in his stomach.

So, sure, Satoru did now a bit about love, at least the love he felt for his best friends, but nothing like what he felt in this moment. The moment his eyes first fell on you.

He hadn't a clue as to who you were, only seeing you stroll along the grounds of Jujutsu High with your little uniform. The typical jacket, a skirt beneath, knee high socks, loafers... and your hair in a low ponytail that was held together by an overly large ribbon. Cute was the first thing that came to mind, along with the terrifying sound of his racing heart. Who were you? How come he had never seen you before? Maybe it was because he didn't pay attention to any one else besides a handful of people. He'd be lying if he said he was sure the technical college held more than five students. 

In the midst of sipping away at his little box of strawberry milk, walking alongside Suguru and Shoko, Satoru's eyes had aimlessly wandered along his environment as his two best friends had been discussing evening plans. It wasn't like him to care about what was going on around him, so it was quite the miracle that his eyes were looking anywhere but ahead of him... but, maybe this was destiny.

It felt like the world was suddenly moving slowly around him, rather dramatically like a movie. His lips parted as the tiny straw fell out of it, hidden gaze behind his circular frames becoming exposed as the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. You looked so graceful, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, your smile as bright as his eyes... he had to have been in love. This had to have been love. What else could it have been? Why else was his heart fluttering so quickly? Why else was he caught in a daze by your beauty? No one else, not a single soul, ever caught his attention this way so you must've been his soulmate.

There was something about you, from your gorgeous hair, to the cute bow, down to the uniform and the way it suited your form to the way you... wait, were you laughing with... Nanami Kento? Gojo's heart stopped as his grip on the milk grew tight, causing the contents to squeeze right out and squirt all over his face.

The sound of laughter caught his attention as he quickly looked at his two best friends, embarrassment filling his face as he looked back at you to see you now looking in his direction. Quickly wiping his face and turning away to scold his best friends, Gojo tossed the now empty carton at Geto. "Shut up!"

"What the hell did you do?" Suguru shook his head, wiping his tears as his shoulders shook with every laugh that rumbled throughout his torso. "Losing your cool over a girl, huh?"

"I said shut up!" Satoru snapped, cheeks burning with heat, embarrassed that he was that obvious.

"Must've struck something in him for him to spill milk all over his face like the doofus he is," Shoko snickered as Suguru went for a high five.

Swatting their hands and glaring at the two, Gojo hissed, "nothing happened, I squeezed too hard."

"Right," the two said in sync before eyeing one another, smirking and stifling a laugh.

Shoving past them as he kept walking ahead, grumbling to himself, Gojo couldn't help but peak over in your direction. You had already turned your attention back to the two on either side of you—Nanami along with Yu Haibara. Since when did they have a friend that was a girl? And when did you appear? He should've known seeing as both were his junior and both trained quite close to Suguru and himself. So you must've been new... He supposed he'd find more out about you, knowing he'd find a way to get under Nanami's skin and get anything out of him. He must've known a lot about you...

Gojo smirked to himself. He'd get his way.

"No," Nanami spoke as he crossed his arms. The confidence in Gojo's face instantly fading away. He didn't even hesitate, cancelling his plans with his best friends to bribe Kento into giving him some information. He swore taking his junior to his favorite bakery would help him out, but, no! Kento, being the wise boy he was, took advantage of Satoru paying for food in a false exchange for information. "I'm not going to be your middle man."

"Why not?!" Gojo whined, throwing himself back in his seat dramatically. "Just one thing! Something! Anything! She's the love of my life!"

Narrowing his eyes as he sipped away at his water, Nanami settled the glass down before crossing his arms once again. "Love of your life? You don't even know her name—"

"Because you won't tell me!" Gojo cried, throwing his head back and stomping his foot as if he was about to throw a tantrum. "Please, please! I beg of you, tell me something about her! Besides her name, what's her favorite color? Maybe her favorite food? Or... or what's her favorite date spot!"

"Satoru, I am not about to ask her what her favorite date spot is," Nanami deadpanned. "I'll give you her name and that's all. Everything else is on you. I'm not going to play matchmaker, let alone, set you up with someone so far out of your league."

Gasping in offense, Gojo clutched his chest. "Out of my league? Sure, she's a pure angel, a real heavenly being, but I like to think I am, too!"

"Egotistical..." Kento mumbled as Gojo frowned. "I'm only telling you one thing to get you off my back. You can't ask me anything ever again in order to get close to her. That's on you."

Pressing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, Gojo gave his best puppy eyes as he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please, I promise to leave you be after!"

"You better," the blond man grumbled before giving his senior your name. "She likes to sit under the cherry blossoms on the eastern side of the campus. If you want to find her and talk to her, she's usually there on her down time." At that, Nanami stood up and tucked his seat back into the table. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the white haired young man. "All I ask of you is to be... gentle. She's a nice girl. I don't need you breaking her heart."

Sitting up with confidence as a wide grin took over his face, Satoru nodded with his thumbs up. "Believe me, I wont! I know this is love!" Seeing Nanami roll his eyes before leaving, Gojo happily sighed before looking out the window. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, he eyed the cherry blossom that had petals delicately swaying in the wind. "She's my soulmate, I know we are destined to be."

[ffsjustletmesleep]

I love you

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Oneshot

word count: 2.2k

(There better not be errors I put this through a grammar checker 3 times..)

Warnings: Swearing, Fingering, Unprotected sex (Dont be silly guys..), Creampie. (think that's it, enjoy) MDNI 18+

     Daryl and you had been together since before the walker incident had started; the two of you lived together in a shitty townhouse for a few years with his older brother, Merle, until your upstairs neighbors had come bursting through your window trying to attack the three of you while you were asleep. You found a small group in Atlanta and stayed with them for a short while until Merle had decided to get himself into trouble with the new guy, Rick, which caused a huge argument between him and Daryl before they went off to find Merle. The camp had been ambushed by a horde of walkers moments before they returned, which resulted in where you were now, The Greene’s Family Farm.

You stood in Maggie’s room going through her closet as she sat on the bed; you had plans for something special tonight. While getting dressed for the day, your eyes landed on a white dress covered in tiny flowers that were barely noticeable. You pulled it out of the closet and held it to your chest as you looked over at Maggie, smiling. She looked over at you and raised her eyebrows. “Oh my gosh, I forgot about that one. I think you should wear that one today.” She smiled softly.

Your cheeks reddened slightly as you let out a small laugh, starting to get dressed. “Really? It’s not too much?” you asked as you pulled the dress over your head, seeing as it stopped just below your knees. You looked in the mirror and gave a small twirl before looking back at Maggie. She let out a small whistle and got up and walked over to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “You look amazing; Daryl is going to love it…” She giggled and brought you over to her vanity to do your hair.

After an hour of her doing your hair, she was done. You made your way out of the house and over to Daryl, who was sitting in your shared tent working on his crossbow. Ever since the two of you had moved your tent away from the farmhouse, you and Daryl have been more intimate, not exactly going all the way yet, but you made out every now and then, with small touches here and there too. You wanted tonight to be special; you had decided you wanted to take the next step with him.

You stepped into the tent and smiled as you saw him; he looked up from his crossbow and grunted softly, looking over towards you, his lips parting to speak, but his words got caught in his throat as he saw your dress. You stepped over to him and brushed your fingers through his short, dirty blonde hair. “Hey, Dar… I was wondering if you could come with me out to the field; I want to go pick up some flowers for Maggie,” you muttered softly as you picked his head up, making him look at you. 

He looked up at you as his eyebrows furrowed at your touch; his ears burned red slightly as he huffed. “Really…flowers? What’s so important bout’ some damn flowers?” he grumbled, putting his crossbow down as he rested his hands on your waist, brushing his thumbs over your hips, feeling the soft material of the dress. 

You blushed slightly and smiled as you leaned down to kiss his cheek before pulling him up to his feet by his arms. “Come on… Please? It will only take a minute, just to the field nearby…” you pouted as you looked up at him; he frowned slightly as he looked at you before leaning down with a small sigh and pressing his lips against your forehead.

“Aight, I guess so…” he mumbled as he picked up his crossbow, slinging it over his shoulder before he left the tent with you following behind him as the two of you made your way over to the field near the woods. You walked ahead of him as you felt his gaze on you, looking back at him every now and then to make sure he was still behind you. Once you two had made it to the field, he stopped in his tracks beside you and looked around to make sure there were no walkers.

As you bent down and picked up some grass, you looked over at him with a smile and tossed it in his direction before you ran off. He stepped back and looked at the grass that covered his clothes before looking over at you running off; his eyes narrowed at you, and he took off after you. “Get back ‘ere! Don’t be runnin’ away from me!” he shouted as he chased you around the field of flowers you were standing in. 

You giggled as you ran, your hair flowing in the wind as you heard him quickly catch up to you; he grasped your hips tightly as he spun you around in his arms, his foot slipping in a patch of grass as he brought you to the ground with him with a small thud. You gasped as he fell on top of you; he groaned softly and leaned up on his elbows, looking down at you as he rubbed his head. You let out a small breath as you looked up at him, giggling.

“This isn’t what I thought you meant when you told me you fell for me…” you whispered as you smiled. He looked at you quietly for a moment as his ears started to redden once more, his eyes glancing down at your lips for a moment before they returned to yours, as if he were asking for your permission. You blushed and gave him a soft smile and nodded. He leaned down and brushed his lips against yours for a moment before he kissed you, slowly and gently. 

You reached up and threaded your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back, humming softly against his lips as his hands lifted the hem of your dress. He let out a small sigh and slipped his hands under your dress, feeling your soft thighs against the rough pads of his hands as he grasped them. He trailed his lips down your neck and kissed and nipped the skin gently. You tilted your head back and let out a small whine.

He let out a small chuckle and pulled the sleeves of your dress down, revealing your chest to the cold air as a shiver ran down your spine. You tilted your head at him and smiled. “Stop laughing at me; I was trying to be cute…” You whispered softly, and he smiled and ran his hands down your sides. “Mmm… sorry, yer just’ so cute…” he muttered softly before he leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. 

Your hands made their way into his hair and tugged at the short strands gently, letting out a small sigh at the feeling of his tongue tracing around the small bud. His hand gently kneaded your other breast as his other one made its way back underneath your dress, toying with the fabric of your underwear and pushing it to the side, brushing his fingers along your folds. He let out a small groan at the feeling of your arousal coating them.

The wind blew lightly around you as it started to get darker, the night falling by the second, but the two of you were too engrossed in the moment to care. You felt his finger entering you, gasping as your head tilted back against the grass. Biting your lip, you tugged at his hair once more, letting out a small whimper as his thick digit stretched you out. “Yer so tight…” he whispered against your chest, his lips trailing down your skin as he pulled your dress down your body.

He added another, curling them gently and hitting your sweet spot. You moaned out as he curled his fingers inside you, the knot slowly building up in the pit of your stomach as he pumped them in and out of you; he gradually picked up the speed as the heat between you grew. His breathing got heavy, and his body got hotter as his lips explored your body, trailing down your stomach and stopping just below your navel before he looked up at you, watching as your lips parted with every gasp. 

“Yer being’ so good for me, Sunshine. Come on,” he whispered as he scissored his fingers, letting out a small chuckle from the moan you let out. Your stomach tightened more and more by the second until the knot snapped. With a small cry, you came around his fingers. He slowly removed them and let out a groan at the sight of your arousal coating them; he pushed his pants down his hips just enough to free himself, hissing softly as the cold air hit his cock.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours in a gentle kiss, pressing his body against yours as he intertwined your fingers, holding it down against the soft blades of grass. “Are ya sure ya wanna do this?” he asked as he looked at you, stroking your thigh softly. You nodded your head and reached up to touch his cheek, bringing him into another kiss as you sighed softly. “I love you, Daryl. I wanna do this with you…” you whispered against his lips.

The feeling of your touch on his skin, your voice in his ears, and your lips on his. He couldn’t get enough of you. He pushed your underwear to the side once more and lined himself up with your entrance before gently pushing into you. Letting out a small curse as your tight walls hugged him. 

You pressed your lips against his and felt his hand tighten in yours, moaning out as his cock stretched you open. He pressed further inside you, trying not to hurt you as he bottomed out, giving you time to adjust to his size. His hand left your thigh and moved up into your hair, stroking it gently as he whispered soft praises into your ear. You slowly relaxed into him as the pain subsided, pleasure filling your senses as you leaned into his touch. “Daryl…” you whined. He looked at you for a moment, feeling the way your hips squirmed against his, silently begging him to move.

He pulled out all the way before he pushed back in, keeping his pace slow as he moved his hips against yours; the sound of your soft gasps and moans in his ear was driving him crazy, loving the way your hand squeezed his. “Ya sound so good…” he groaned as he picked up his pace, biting down on his bottom lip to concentrate. He wanted to focus on you, your pleasure; he didn’t care about his, only yours. 

His hand moved back to your thigh as he pulled it up to his chest, hooking your leg over his shoulder. Your moans grew louder as his thrusts deepened, his cock hitting deeper and harder as the knot in your stomach came back quicker. He wrapped his arm around your thigh and let go of your hand, reaching down to rub your clit between his fingers. You grasped the grass tightly between your fingers as he slammed into you over and over; it was too much; you felt like you were gonna burst. 

With one more rub of your clit, you came undone, moaning out his name and coming around him. “Fuck..!” he cursed as he felt you coming around him; his thrusts got more sloppy as he thrust into you a few more times before spilling inside you with a soft moan. He held your leg tightly as he came down from his high, looking down at you as he watched you relax. He gently pulled out of you and listened to the soft whine you made, watching his release spill out of you and onto the grass. 

He fixed your underwear and pulled your dress back up over your chest with a small chuckle. “Come on, let’s get you back…” He tucked himself back in his pants and pulled them up before picking you up in his arms and carrying you back to your shared tent. Once the two of you made it back, he set you down on the mess of blankets and cleaned you up with one of his dirty shirts.

You watched as he cleaned you up, smiling at his gentle touch. “I love you…” you spoke softly, your throat slightly dry from earlier. He looked up at you and paused for a second before he put the shirt down and grunted, lying down next to you and pulling you into his arms. “Yeah, yeah…” he murmured as he pressed his lips against your temple. “Get some rest…” he brushed the hair from your face. 

You let out a small hum as you felt his lips against your head. “Alright, alright…” you sighed and cuddled into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and closing your eyes. He watched as you fell asleep in his arms, breathing softly against his chest as it made his heart race. “I love ya... Sunshine,” he whispered against your hair before falling asleep beside you. The two of you slept soundly in the comfort of each other's arms, your thoughts clear and your hearts beating in one together.

Ty for reading :))) hopefully this smut was good I'm still getting the hang of it ♡😵‍💫

@moonbaby6

[imaginedisish]

Heart to Heart (Logan Howlett x F!Reader)

A/N: Okay...here's that car sex request. This one is like pure smut with some exposition. Like...plot...what plot? Listened to "Heart to Heart" by Mac DeMarco while writing this one. Kinda fits. Not quite sure how I'm churning these out so quickly...so I hope this doesn't suck. And! Most importantly: I hope this lives up to the requester's expectations. Enjoy guys!

Summary: Logan doesn't seem like himself on the car ride up to Lake George to meet the other X-Men for the weekend, and you're not going to leave him alone until you find out why (it's car sex, the whole fic is basically just rough car sex).

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, Unprotected PIV (WRAP IT UP!), Oral (f!receiving), fingering, rough sex, fem!reader, AFAB!reader (no other major physical descriptions that I can think of), cursing, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, feelings, pre-relationship (I am a sucker for writing first times), probably some grammatical errors, think that's everything.

Word Count: 3124 this was supposed to be a blurb im not joking

Logan’s hands firmly grip the steering wheel, white-knuckling, fingers wound around the curved leather. Your eyes flicker between his face and his hands.  

He had been like this since the drive to Lake George started. You and Logan were meeting the rest of the X-Men up there—Charles arranged some sort of weekend getaway. You and Logan would be the last ones to arrive, having just gotten off from a mission. 

But something was off about him. He was silent, eyes dead set on the road. The sun had long set, but you still had two hours of the drive to go. You look out the window to a world asleep, lights out, families in beds. You look back at Logan; his face is completely unchanged. 

“Logan?” You mumble, shifting in your seat to face him. Your already-short shorts hike up your thighs, revealing more of the skin underneath. You don’t think twice about placing your hand on his bare shoulder, brushing his exposed skin with your thumb. “You okay?” You ask, but he ignores you. You’re not letting this go. He’s been like this for far too long, and you’re sick of not knowing why. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” Logan finally lets go of the wheel a bit, his eyes flickering briefly to you and then back to the road. “No, of course not.”

“Then what’s the matter?” If he was going to be stubborn, you were going to be stubborn, too. “You can tell me, Lo.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel again. Your hand trails down to his bicep, lingering for longer than you should before stroking back up to his shoulder. You draw circles into his skin, hoping to relax him, but it only seems to work him up. His throat bobs, and you catch him peeking at you out of the corner of his eye. 

You’re not sure where the confidence comes from, but before you can even think of stopping yourself, your fingers gently glide up to the nape of his neck, your nails digging into his hair lightly. Logan groans softly, the sound sparking a fire in your belly. You push it down, reminding yourself that this is just an innocent moment between friends—nothing more. 

“You gonna tell me what the matter is now?” You chide, smirking, thinking you have him exactly where you want him. You lean over a bit more, the air conditioning blasting against your bare legs. Your fingers are still buried in his hair. 

You see the moment when his expression shifts, when his head finally turns towards yours. His nostrils flare. You search his eyes frantically, your hand dropping back to your lap. “Logan I—” but you’re cut off by the feeling of his palm—of his long fingers—on your inner thigh. He keeps one hand firmly on the steering wheel as he swerves into the shoulder of the highway and off into the grass. 

He puts the car in park, keeping his eyes straight ahead, tightening his grip on your thigh and working his jaw as he thinks of what to say. You can feel the heat growing between your legs, a feeling you’ve long denied yourself while alone with Logan. Silence fills the air, the tension of it absolutely suffocating.  

And then Logan cuts through the quiet like a knife. “You have any idea how you make me feel?” He’s turned his body completely towards you now, as if he’s ready to pounce.  

You swallow harshly. “So, you are angry at me. Logan, I have no clue what I did, but I—”

“I’m not mad at you, sweetheart,” he mutters, lifting himself up slightly to maneuver closer to you. He’s practically climbing over the center console as his lips find the shell of your ear. “It’s just when I can smell how much you want me, and you start touching me like that…” He trails off, kissing your ear lightly. “Do you know what you fucking do to me?”

“Logan—”

He’s not finished. He’s cutting you off again. “I can’t concentrate when you’re around.” His hand slips further in between your thighs, and you shudder under his touch. “Can’t do anything except think about fucking you.” He’s slipping his hand up your shorts, feeling your folds through your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaked already, pretty girl.”

You moan as he teases you, playing with you, taking his time. “W-want you,” you stutter, grinding into his hand, searching for more friction. 

He’s got that familiar, cocky smile spread across his face. “I know you do, beautiful.” Even that lilt in his voice is cocksure. He’s teasingly pulling your panties to the side. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your folds, but he’s refusing to give you the relief you need. He’s the one driving you insane now. “You gonna let me fuck you in the backseat of this car?” 

“F-fuck,” you stutter as his fingers finally brush against your bare cunt. You throw your head back as he strokes languidly, lazily. Your words are caught in your throat. You can’t enjoy his touch for long as he pulls away from you. “W-wait,” you whine, sitting up and grabbing his hand. 

He smirks, that teasing grin still spread across his face. “Didn’t answer my question, pretty girl,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your knuckles. He repeats himself: “You gonna let me fuck you in the backseat of this car?” You nod as he brings himself back to hover over you. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Yes,” you choke out. “Please. Need you so fucking bad.”

He doesn’t let a second go by before he’s wrapping his arms around you and shoving you into the backseat. You fall into the leather and watch as Logan opens the car door and briefly disappears into the darkness before opening the door next to you. He climbs inside, slamming the door behind him. 

He crawls over you, and you use your hips and forearms and back all the way into the door on the opposite side. 

He grabs your hips, keeping you in place, lowering down over you. “’Can hear that little heart beating all the fucking time,” he whispers, his lips inches from yours. His forearm rests by your head, while his free hand slips underneath your shirt and under your bra. His fingers graze over the swell of your tits as he settles his palm above your heart. “Need you, pretty girl.” His hand trails over to a nipple, pinching softly.

Logan swallows your moans with a desperate, starving kiss. His stubble is rough against your cheeks. His tongue slides across your bottom lip, asking for permission to come inside. You open up immediately for him, meeting his tongue with your own, savoring the taste of him. 

You bring your hands up to the nape of his neck, keeping his lips close to yours. You dig your nails into his scalp, raking through his hair. He groans into your mouth before briefly coming up for air. His chest heaves against yours. He’s a panting mess. You’ve never seen him this worked up. 

There’s something different in his eyes now. You can see the lust, the desire, the longing. But there’s something else there. Fear? Desperation? Hunger? He’s yanking your shirt and bra up and over your head before giving you the chance to think about it. He’s taking you in, his hot, solid, fervent hands exploring your body. He’s palming your breasts, pinching your nipples and messaging the pain away. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tight against you. 

He instinctively recognizes what you’re doing. “’M’not going anywhere, I’ve got you.” He presses a chaste kiss just under your jawline. His nails trail down the side of your stomach, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. 

You can feel his erection against your core, rutting needily into you. You push your hips up to meet his, grinding against him, impatiently searching for more friction.

His hands finally land on the hem of your shorts, his fingers working at your button, and then your zipper. He hooks his fingers into your shorts and your panties, and yanks them down your legs, casting them to the floor. You think he’s going to come back up, but he crawls in between your legs, his eyes locked on yours. 

You can feel his hot breath fan over your aching cunt. His mouth is just centimeters away from where you need him most. 

“Wanna taste you,” he mumbles, his face inching closer to your core. 

You moan as he licks a stripe through your folds, and then another. “L-Logan.” Your hips come up and off the seat. One of his arms latches across your hips, holding you down. 

“Stay there,” he murmurs in between laps. “Tastes so fucking good.” You can’t stay still, squirming under his touch, he presses down harder, forcing you to stay in place. You can feel him smirk against your pussy as his mouth latches on to your clit, sucking the bud in roughly. 

You’re already close as his fingers start to swipe through your folds. “So fucking wet for me.” His words vibrate against your swollen clit. Two fingers prod at your entrance, slowly pushing inside. You’re squirming again, your pussy stretching out to fit around his long fingers. He chuckles against you, the feeling pushing you closer to the edge. 

“C-close,” is all you can stutter. 

Logan doesn’t slow down. “’M’not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he husks between desperate laps. His fingers pump in and out of you, your walls fluttering uncontrollably around him. “Doing so good for me, taking what I’m giving you.”

His words are making it harder to hang on. “C-can’t…” You trail off, your chest heaving. His face is buried deep inside your cunt, each flick, each suck, each thrust more feral and starving than the last. 

“You gonna come on my tongue, sweetheart?” He teases, knowing full well now what his words are doing to you. You clamp down on his fingers, his name a chant hanging in the air. “Let go for me, pretty girl. Wanna know what it tastes like.” 

You’re a stuttering mess, his words piercing that fire in your stomach, the heat flowing freely as he pulls your orgasm from you. The release feels so good, so right. Logan works you through it, his laps slowing down, becoming languid, like he’s savoring the taste of you. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. He pumps his fingers in and out a few more times before carefully pulling out of you. 

He sits up on his knees, sweat glistening on his chest, his hair a tussled mess. He holds out his fingers—covered with your come—and shoves them in his mouth, sucking hard. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. He lazily pulls them out, swallowing, his throat bobbing. “So fucking sweet,” he soothes. “Can’t get enough of you.”

And then he’s hurriedly ripping his beater off, undoing his belt, shoving his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock springing up to his stomach. You knew he’d be big, but fuck. 

“You sure you want this?” He whispers, his lips back at the shell of your ear. You bring your hips up to meet his and mumble a yes. 

He lines himself up with your entrance, nudging against you. You can tell he’s holding back, doing his all to take his time, to let this moment last. But you want him. You need him. Now. You arch your back, your chest rising to meet his, your pebbled nipples brushing against his bare skin. The contact feels so good, so warm. “Fuck me, Logan,” you beg. 

He curses under his breath, and suddenly he’s thrusting into you, sinking all the way in, bottoming out. He stays there, unmoving, letting you adjust to the length and girth of him. He’s so big, stretching you out so good. He’s deep already, pushing against your walls, hitting that spot where you need him most. 

“F-fuck.” His composure is melting. “Knew you’d feel perfect. So fucking beautiful like this, always so beautiful.” He pulls out and pushes all the way back in. You cry out his name, and he muffles it as his mouth comes crashing down onto yours. 

He lowers down onto his forearm, closing the gap between the two of you. His other hand grazes over your nipples, trailing down your stomach, slipping in between the place where your bodies connect. His fingertips find your clit, ghosting around the bud lightly, toying with you before drawing long, languid circles around it. 

His thrusts start out slow as he rolls his hips against yours, but he quickly builds up speed. He bottoms out with each pump, plunging deeply, working you open for him. 

“Could stay inside you forever,” he gasps between kisses, sweat coating his brow. “You still have no fucking clue what you do to me,” he whispers, his hips snapping into you. He’s fucking you into the leather, pounding harder, knocking the wind out of your chest. He flicks your clit again and again. He’s losing control in the best way. “Watching you all the time, not being able to touch you, to be with you.” His vulnerability contrasts deliciously with how rough he’s fucking into you. “Think about you all the time.” 

He swallows your whines with another starving kiss. “Always thinking about you, too,” you whimper. 

He smiles against your lips. “Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart. Want you to come on my cock.” It’s a command, the bass of his voice rumbling through his chest. You hum in affirmation, your eyes fluttering closed as pleasure courses through your body. “Want you to look at me when you come.” There’s that demand in his voice again, and so you force your eyes open. “Good girl,” he husks. “So fucking good.”

You’re crumbling underneath him, fighting to keep your eyes open as he pounds roughly into you, his fingers pinching your clit, then circling rapidly. You’re coming undone in his arms, digging your nails into his biceps as you let yourself go. He keeps rutting into you, his pace faltering as he nears his own orgasm. 

“Wanna come inside you,” his lips press against your forehead as he whispers the words. “Don’t wanna leave this pussy yet.”

You shiver underneath him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “P-please,” you mumble.  “Fuck,” he trembles, painting your walls, filling you up. “So perfect,” he whispers, his head coming down to rest on your shoulder, pumping slower as he finishes. “So beautiful.” He kisses your shoulder as he stills, staying inside you for a moment. 

He carefully slides out of you, the sudden emptiness a shock to your system. You want him back, buried deep inside where he belongs. You involuntarily whine at the loss of him. He lifts himself up, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Later. We’ll do more later. ‘M’nowhere near done with you yet.” 

Logan separates from you, the hot, stuffy air of the car suddenly turning cold without him on top of you. He searches the floor of the backseat for your clothes. He worries about you first, helping you get back into your bra, panties, shorts, and top. You sit cross-legged once you’re done, watching him as he dresses himself. 

He smirks, sensing your eyes on him. “Still like what you see?” 

You can feel heat rise to your cheeks, suddenly embarrassed despite everything that just happened. “Always liked you.”

“Think what we just did warrants a little more than ‘like’ darlin’.” He’s right. It does. 

Once he’s dressed, he grabs your hand, opens the car door, and guides you out of the backseat and towards the other side of the car. He opens the passenger door for you, and you slip inside. He’s opening the driver’s side door and getting in a few seconds later, turning the key into the ignition, maneuvering the car out of the grass, and back onto the empty highway. 

He’s got his left hand on the steering wheel as his right comes down to your inner thigh, gripping tightly and pulling it closer to him. 

The rest of the drive is quiet, calm, Logan’s thumb occasionally brushing against your bare skin, reminding you of what he promised: later. 

You finally pull up to the cabin, surprised to see that some of the lights are still on. Logan gives your thigh one more squeeze before popping the trunk and exiting the car. You step out, and Logan already has your duffle bags in his hands. You walk shoulder to shoulder up to the porch of the cabin, your hand coming up to twist the doorknob and stepping inside. 

Storm, Charles, and Scott are in the living room, sitting around the fire, their heads snapping toward you and Logan. 

“What took you two so long to get here?” Storm asks, her brows raising incredulously. 

“Traffic.” Logan spits, his voice firm and unwavering. You hope the room can’t read the embarrassment on your face. 

“Yeah, sure, traffic, at one in the morning on a Thursday,” Scott teases. To your left, you can see your and Logan’s reflections in a nearby mirror. You’re disheveled and messy, but not terrible. And then, it suddenly dawns on you that Logan’s tank is inside out; you can’t help but grin at the sight. 

Charles smiles softly—knowingly. “You two can share one of the rooms upstairs, down the hall, last door on the left.” 

You watch as Logan catches his reflection in the mirror, his gaze quickly focusing on you instead, cocking his head up towards the stairs. 

His steps are hurried, and you try to catch up to him. He beats you to the top and leans in close to you as you finish the climb, his lips brushing the side of your head. “You’re in some massive fucking trouble, sweetheart,” he whispers, now holding the bags in one hand so that the other can snake around your waist. He shoves you down the hall with him. 

“What did I do?” You giggle as his fingers dig into your side. 

“You let me put my shirt on inside out.”

You smirk. “And what are you gonna do about it, bub?” You know he won’t like that last bit, but you want to see what he’ll do about it. 

“Remember when I told you I wasn’t done with you yet?” Your breath catches in your throat at his words. “Well, it’s later, darlin’.”

[allthingsfangirl101]

Not Hangman To Her – Jake "Hangman" Seresin

"We are about to embark on an emergency rescue mission," Maverick said. Instantly, all of the pilots straightened up as he continued. "The U.S.S. Reynolds set off three days ago. Their mission was supposed to be simple but it took a bad turn. After a dogfight, three out of their four pilots were killed."

"What about the fourth?" Rooster asked.

"She's MIA," Maverick sighed. "We are close to her last known coordinates. We've been asked to complete a search and rescue."

"Who's the pilot?" Phoenix asked.

"Her name is Lieutenant Y/F/N Y/L/N."

Hangman's heart jumped into his throat when Maverick put the pilot's picture on the screen. His mind raced as his eyes and thoughts were glued to the girl he met in training.

Y/N? There's no way she would be mixed up in all this. She's the best pilot. Whatever happened was not pilot error. Y/N didn't do anything to put her in this position. She's too. . . perfect to make a mistake that would cost her her life or the lives of her team.

"Hangman."

Hangman jumped when Rooster walked by, kicking his shoe. "You good?"

"I'm fine," Hangman said, clearing his throat.

"You sure?" Payback scoffed. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Do you know someone on the U.S.S. Reynolds?" Phoenix asked.

"No," he said a little too quickly. "Why would I know anyone on the U.S.S. Reynolds?"

Before his team could tell he was lying, he left the room. He went back to his bunk and slammed the door shut behind him. Hangman frantically searched through his stuff, and at the very bottom, finally found the picture of him and Y/N in training.

~ • ~

"Keep up, Seresin!" Y/N laughed as she ran ahead of me.

As fast as I pumped my legs, I could never outrun Y/N. Then again, I didn't try to. I couldn't help but like the feeling I got when she bragged about being the better pilot. I loved how happy she got as she excitedly jumped around after beating me. I liked that it made her so happy.

"I win again!" Y/N giggled as she jumped and spun around. "Say it. Say that I am faster than you, Seresin. Say it. Say it. Say it."

I pretended to be angry as she jogged around me and chanted for me to say it. I didn't mind saying it but she expected me to push back, so I did.

"If I say it, will you stop circling me?"

Y/N stopped right in front of me. She smiled cheekily at me as she bounced on her toes. "Did you have something to say to me, Seresin?"

"You are the faster runner, Y/L/N," I recited just for her. "You're better than me."

"And don't you forget it!" She giggled as she went back to jumping up and down. Suddenly, her ankle gave out. I instantly caught her and pulled her close to my chest.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice soft.

"I think so," she said slowly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, starting to panic. "Maybe I should take a look at it. Here, sit down and I will. . ."

"I'm fine, Jake," Y/N chuckled as she patted my shoulder.

She turned away from me and stretched her legs as I overthought the last 2 minutes. The thought of Y/N in pain made me want to do anything I could to make sure she wasn't in it anymore.

I'd do anything to make sure Y/N was happy, healthy, and safe.

~ • ~

Hangman snapped out of the memory, his hands shaking as he held the picture. The idea that Y/N was out there somewhere, lost and alone, filled him with more fear than he knew what to do with.

"She's okay," he mumbled to himself. "She's safe. We are going to find her. We are going to find her. I will find you, Y/N, I promise."

* * * * *

The next few hours went by in a blur for Hangman. The ship changed course toward Y/N's last known location. When they got there, Hangman and a few others took off in their planes and began searching the water for any sign of Y/N or her plane.

As he searched, all Hangman could do was think of the worst-case scenarios.

What if they're looking in the wrong area? What if they find her plane but not her? What if they find her but it's too late? What if they find her and get her back to the ship, but can't save her? What if he never finds her? What if he loses her? What if he loses her before he gets a chance to tell her how he feels?

"We got her!" Rooster yelled, pulling Hangman out of his spiral.

"Well, we got pieces of her plane," Payback sighed.

Hangman quickly turned around and flew to them. He started searching the sea for any sign of the girl he was crazy about. Finally, his eyes landed on something that instantly burned into his brain - Y/N unconscious on a piece of her plane.

"I got her," he said, his voice not nearly loud enough. He cleared his throat and tried again but louder this time. "She's over here!"

"Maverick, we got her! We need a search and rescue party now!"

"Stay there," Maverick instructed through their headsets. "We're sending one to your coordinates now."

Hangman didn't move his plane an inch. Instead, he stayed right where he was and kept a close eye on Y/N's unconscious body. He wanted nothing more than to dive into that water and swim to her. Instead, he hovered close enough to keep an eye on her as the ship sent a medical boat to their location. Hangman watched as the divers pulled her out of the water and safely onto the boat.

Once they had her, Hangman sped back to the ship. He landed and instantly jumped out of his plane and ran as fast as he could to the infirmary. When he got there, they were just bringing her in.

"Y/N?" Hangman panicked. His heart jumped into his throat when he caught a glimpse of her unconscious and pale body.

"Woah, stop," Maverick said as he grabbed Hangman before he could run into the exam room. "The doctors have her. They will do whatever they can to help her."

Hangman looked behind Maverick to see the exam doors close, separating him from the girl of his dreams.

"They will come get us as soon as they have any news about Lieutenant Y/L/N's status," he said with a knowing look in his eyes. Maverick wasn't sure how Hangman and Y/N were connected, but one look at the worry in his eyes and Maverick knew there was something.

"I just want to. . . I wish there was. . ." Hangman stuttered. "I just want to help her, Mav."

"All we can do now is relax and wait," Maverick said gently. Maverick studied him briefly before finally asking, "How well do you know Lieutenant Y/L/N?"

"Y/N and I were in training camp together," Hangman sighed as he sat in a nearby chair. "Some guys in our group were giving her a hard time. I defended her and after that, we got close. We ran together, trained together, studied together. We did everything together until we got our orders to ship out. We were sent to different ships and. . . I haven't talked to her since she shipped out. I tried to keep track of her but. . ."

Maverick waited for him to continue, but Hangman got distracted by his memories. Maverick sat next to him and gently patted his shoulder. "The good news is we found her," Maverick tried to comfort him. "The doctor told me that he thinks we got to her just in time."

"That's good," Hangman said numbly, "I guess."

The rest of their team slowly trickled in as they waited. Two hours later, the doctor finally came out.

"How is she?" Hangman panicked as he jumped up and met the doctor.

"She's okay," the doctor reassured. "She's dehydrated, a little sunburned, and has a slight concussion from the crash. Honestly, she should be way worse. She's extremely lucky."

"So, she's going to be okay?" Hangman double-checked.

"She's going to be fine," he nodded. "All she needs is a couple of good nights' sleep and some healthy meals. She should be back on her feet in a few days. I would, however, recommend that she not return to her ship just yet."

"Why not?" Bob asked.

"Well," the doctor sighed, "if we send her back to her ship, they will most likely put her back in a plane. She may be physically alright, but we have no idea how she is mentally. And that's something we can't check or test until she wakes up."

"Thank you," Maverick said, shaking the doctor's hand before he went back to Y/N.

"Wait," Hangman said, jogging to catch up to the doctor. "Is there. . . I was just wondering. . . I know her and. . . I was hoping. . ."

"She's not awake," the doctor said gently, "but you can sit by her bed until she does."

Hangman took that invitation and instantly went into Y/N's room. When he saw her asleep in the bed, his heart broke. He numbly walked over and collapsed into the chair next to the bed. He scanned her, searching for any injuries. She had a pretty big gash on her forehead, pieces of glass were taken out of her face, and she had bruises across her chest from her harness.

With shaking hands, Hangman reached over and gently grabbed Y/N's hand. "I'm right here, Y/N," he whispered. "And I'm not going anywhere until you wake up."

* * * * *

Y/N was unconscious for the next 14 hours. Hangman stayed by her side the entire time. His crew tried to get him to leave, but he refused. He barely ate and didn't sleep as he waited for her to wake up. He was starting to fall asleep when he felt her hand tighten around his.

"Y/N?" He whispered.

"Jake?" Hangman instantly leaned forward when he heard her beautiful voice whisper his name. "What are we. . . I thought you were. . . Where am I?"

"It's okay," he instantly soothed. "What matters is that you're safe. What do you remember?"

"I don't know," she said, shakily. "It was supposed to be a simple mission. But. . . I was shot down."

Hangman tightened his grip on her hand and scooted closer to her. He watched, his heart breaking as she remembered what happened. When the tears started streaming down her face, he gently caught one with his thumb. He kept his hand on her face as he tried to comfort her.

"Y/N," he said gently, "everything's okay. You're safe, okay? We found you and we are going to take care of you."

"Jake?" Her voice broke. He moved his hand from her face and scooted closer to her.

"Yeah?"

"Were you the one that found me?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I just. . . My whole team was there."

"But you found me," she said, already knowing the answer. "Right?"

Hangman laughed awkwardly as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck.

"I knew it," she chuckled weakly. Hangman felt his face burn as she smiled at him.

"How'd you know?" He chuckled.

"I like to think I know you pretty well, Seresin."

Hangman smiled when he remembered why she never liked calling him Hangman. She actually hated his callsign. She always said it didn't fit him. And when it came to her, she was right. He'd never hang her out to dry.

"Because," she continued, "You always find me when I'm in trouble."

"I would've searched the entire ocean for you," Hangman mumbled. Y/N's face softened when she saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"Jake," she whispered as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her. He didn't fight her as she pulled him down so he was lying next to her.

"I'm really glad you found me," she whispered, cuddling into his chest.

"Me too," he mumbled as he looked down and saw the exhaustion in her eyes. "I promise I won't let you out of my sight this time."

She let out a small giggle causing him to tighten his arms around her.

"I've really missed you, Seresin."

He looked at her and watched her eyes flutter closed. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"I've really missed you too, Y/L/N."

[bonesandchalamet]

you can’t catch me now — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: when you want the plinth prize, and so does he, you’ll do anything in your power to make sure snow doesn’t land on top.

warnings: slightly unedited/ minor grammatical errors + snow isn’t that much of an asshole + minor tension between characters + no graphic details of death + SPOILERS TO THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES!

a/n: typically don’t like to write for villains… but that movie has been on my mind since I saw it 😅

when the plinth prize had a minor change in plans the only person you could look towards was him. snow. he had to have an idea, but by the reaction that took place, the way he shifted in his seat, he’d have had no clue. this must have been some sick joke. but the hunger games was all about discipline and viewers, it’s no shock the plinth prize money stakes were upped.

you’d have risen to the top and fought coriolanus snow every moment you could. academics were easy, but this? mentoring someone to win a game? this was a true test.

leaving the capital, leaves crunch beneath your feet as your pace quickens. how was this fair? to throw children in an arena to fight for their lives, that was one unfair choice the capital made, but this? was a cruel punishment.

you can hear his feet against the pavement. his pace was always rather faster than yours, which is why you’re surprised he hadn’t caught up to you now. you’d had booked it out the capital the second you were dismissed, but the dread of the next few days still lingered the air like bad perfume.

“y/n, y/n—“

“corio,” you finally snap. turning on your heel to face him, he stops. the air in his lungs catches when he sees the tears against your blush colored cheeks. you held your fight for the rights of the district close to your chest, similarly to sejanus; but you’d only ever been the one to push snow to the limits and make him fight back. tomorrow, your tribute could die and Coriolanus would win once again. it wasn’t fair how snow seemed to always win.

“you think I’m happy about this?” his question takes you by surprise. nobody was happy about this, but coriolanus’ songbird made quite the impression with viewers. you’d expected him to gloat in your face, a typical action of his, but todays far different. there’s an eery difference to the coriolanus you saw that morning before the plinth prize was changed.

“I’d expect you to be happy about your bird gaining you views and donations—“

“she’ll die by tomorrow, y/n. your guy at least has a chance to win. he’s strong enough to take on the others. you’ve got the money in the bag.” he runs a frustrated hand through his white blond curls. his bright blue eyes stare into your soul the way they normally do. so tempting to swim in, but you fight the current. you’re stronger than that, and after all these years of fierce competition, Coriolanus was not going to get you like this.

“I know your motives, snow. sympathizing with me isn’t going to get you far.” you spit out the words, spinning back in the direction towards home. if it wasn’t for the capital traffic, and coriolanus, you’d be home by now. you’d be in bed dreading sleep while you worry awake about the next morning.

“motives? can’t we be friends for once—“

“you want my alliance so my guy doesn’t kill her. I’m always a step ahead of you.”

he scoffs. he stands inches behind you, watching you eye the traffic circle for a chance to sprint across towards the grass for the home stretch. the comforting walls of your bedroom were waiting for you, but coriolanus and rush hour were adding to your time.

“alliance? if I’d wanted an alliance I’d have asked sejanus for help, since he has the money we both don’t have.”

it’s no secret to the two of you that money was tight. it’s maybe why you both work harder than the others, because college was in their futures, and your futures were determined by the outcome of the hunger games. the first time you met Coriolanus, you knew he was just like you. tight shoes, shirt that was far too big, and an excitement for the amount of food that capital had to offer. staring into each others souls that first lecture was when you knew coriolanus was not going to be your friend.

“so then what do you want from me? because once this is all over,” you snap your head up in his direction, his blue eyes piercing into your own, you can feel his anxiety radiating off him, “you’ll go back to hating me and begging for some of that plinth money.”

—

anxiety sits at the pit of your stomach. his songbird had run to the fans leaving four remaining in the pact on the hunt for her. coriolanus sits two seats away from you, his eyes haven’t left the screen since she’d gone into hiding.

“she’ll have to come out eventually.” you snap your head in his direction for a brief second, but his don’t leave where the four attempt to get her out of the vents.

you’d be lying to say you weren’t nervous for everyone in the arena. you’d hated how they were pitted against each other for punishment, and having to mentor these people made your attachment towards the games far worse. you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep, and frankly if you could, you wouldn’t watch.

there was no exact plan when you met your tribute. he’d been shaken up from the past couple of days and just wanted to survive. you couldn’t blame him, and while you worked on some strategies, it was all up to him.

“she can survive—“ his words were a second too late when the clan began to rattle the vents, using pitch forks and other weapons to get her out. the dust was too heavy for the cameras to see anything, but you’d assumed they got her out by the looks of it, and everyone held onto their seats.

she’d appeared from the dusty air in no time. running for another escape, when Dr. Gauls trick up her sleeve rattled the arena. she had a way of twisting the games, and the game seemed to last longer than she intended: enter the tank the drones were dropping off.

“what is she doing.” you move closer to coriolanus, your voice in a hushed tone so the other remaining mentors didn’t hear a thing. he’s focused on the screen, but your eyes find Dr. Gaul and her wicked smile.

“if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you anyway—“

“there’s no point in bluffing, they’ll die anyway with that tank of snakes.” your voice is strained, the words come out slithery on your tongue, coriolanus turns his head in your direction for the first time today.

his blue eyes were a different shimmer. they bleed with anxiety, and as he rises out of the chair, he pulls you closer to his chest. he carefully lowers his head down towards your ear, mouth hovering over it, “I’m so sorry, but it had to be done. I wouldn’t look if I were you.”

slowly moving backwards from his grip, you run towards the doors. time seemed to slow down. you spot Tigris, she’s rising from her seat, a smile stretched across her face as her, and other students, rush to congratulate coriolanus on his victory, you can hear him calling out your name as the doors slam behind you.

your feet carry you. the sounds of the fireworks and the honks of the cars in the traffic circle don’t phase you, but you’re running to the only place that you know. the only place that’ll play fair against coriolanus snow’s twisted games.

MONTHS LATER

“so you do win after all.”

the sound of his shoes scraping against the floor are different. you used to recognize his patterned steps, the way they scuffed the floor because the shoes he wore were too small.

turning around in your chair, you spot the new coriolanus snow. the man who fell off the face of the capital once Dr. Gaul was made aware of his cheating. now, you sit in the University library staring a different snow.

“I didn’t have to cheat for it.”

he rolls his eyes taking the seat across from you at the table. your notes are scattered amongst the table, and you look the same minus the bags you wear under your eyes. university changed you. and district twelve certainly changed him. working through the ranks to move to district two, only to be summoned by Dr. Gaul for a second chance in the capital. he arrived home yesterday, and made it his plans to find you. which wasn’t hard, since you spent all your life in this exact library anyway.

“I learned my lesson. you caught me.” he raises his hands up in defense, you spot the marks against his forearm. leaning forward, you carefully wrap your fingers around his pale skin, “snake bite?”

“they aren’t friendly in the wild.”

a chuckle escapes your lips as you release his arm from your light grip, “they were friendly to Lucy gray.”

“well she’s not so friendly to me anymore.”

“oh corio, you should know cheating for a girl never makes a good impression.” you smile brightly. leaning back into your seat, you get a better look at him. the buzzcut suits him, bringing his bright blue eyes more to the center of his looks.

he exhales a deep sigh nodding in agreement, “I’m a changed man, thanks to you. you taught me a lot.”

“so what are you doing home, snow? I thought you were out of here for twenty years.” at least those were the rumors you heard. nobody spoke of sejanus or coriolanus much anymore, and while you worried if tattling was the right thing to do, you’re happy to see he came back a better version of himself.

“you didn’t hear?” he asks. shaking your head you gesture for him to continue, “I’ll be working closely with Dr. Gaul. I’m back to the capital, and I’m back to mess with you.”

you wish he could’ve seen how far you rolled your eyes back, but he was long gone after that, leaving you alone to study once again. you knew Coriolanus wouldn’t last twenty years away from you. not since he was practically in love with you.

[genericpuff]

Life update! This is frankly one I've been trying to avoid but at this point it's kiiinda super necessary ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

DISCLAIMER: VERY LONG POST AHEAD. A LOT OF IT IS ME TALKING ABOUT LIFE SHIT OBV. I RAMBLE A LOT AS I TEND TO DO. I'VE BOLDED THE IMPORTANT SHIT SO THAT HOPEFULLY IT'LL MAKE IT EASIER TO PARSE THRU. PLS FORGIVE ME ;-;

------------------------

First things first, I quit my job! Or rather, I put in my resignation letter with my current shop, with two weeks notice. Not something I had to do, I just felt it was the least I could do to go out on decent terms (and it means I can honor the appointments I still have booked and use the time to notify all my clients).

There were several reasons for leaving but ultimately it was a personal decision that will - hopefully - allow me to build a better environment for myself within the larger tattooing industry. I've learned through too much trial and error with all the shops (of which there have been 3) I've worked in that I don't particularly enjoy working in one single shop under one single shop owner. It's often counter-intuitive with my ADHD and anxiety, and it's kind of hard to address my mental health problems when I'm still in an environment that exacerbates them.

Of course, this wasn't an "all or nothing" decision because I frankly wasn't giving up a whole lot by leaving. The tattooing industry has been going through some hard times, between The Great Depression 2: Electric Boogaloo and the oversaturation of shops that exist everywhere now (seriously, everyone and their mom nowadays is a tattoo artist). Not only is the industry changing and being forced to adapt, I too have to change and adapt, not just to maintain my place in this industry, but to align it more with what I need within it, rather than trying to force myself to align with what other people often project (and believe me, some of the people in this industry do a LOOOT of projecting, tattoo artists ruined the tattoo industry fr LOL)

So it's scary, but it's necessary. I'm still gonna be tattooing, but I'm doing it on my own terms now. Instead of locking myself down to a single shop environment waiting for the work to come to me, I'm going where the work is, through guest-spotting and expos and whatever other collaborative opportunities I can find, something that I was a lot more restricted in doing with single shop environments.

Also I'm just like, tired of being broke from not getting more consistent work and the shop splits cutting all my generated income in half LOL There's a reason so many artists - even established folks who have been tattooing for decades - are going private nowadays or opting instead for booth rent shops over the 50/50 splits. I could go on for ages about this but I'd rather spare you all the details because they frankly don't matter here and I don't want to dwell.

Buuut making this decision is, ultimately, to address both my exacerbated anxiety from working in a shop environment, and my financial issues from said environment not benefiting me. Especially now that-

-------------------------

-my roommate is moving out in April! I'm very excited but also very terrified. This will be the first time my husband and I have ever been able to live alone since we started living together some 6-7 years ago. Yeah. As much as I'm a social person, at home I'm a hermit and introvert, and I'm frankly just sick of people who I'm not romantically committed to constantly being around. Even when they're sweet people (which my roommate mostly is) it's still like living around a sinkhole. Sure, it's pretty simple to just walk around the sinkhole and place all your furniture around it and mind where it is at all times, but it sure would be nice if the sinkhole just wasn't there to begin with, y'know?

There are so many things I've been wanting to do and simply can't on account of living with a roommate, projects that I want to pursue, spaces that I want to create for both myself and others. Knowing that she's leaving in April has almost made me even more anxious and impatient, because now I'm actually thinking about all the things that will improve and become available to me just with one less person in the house and I'm DYING for it to finally be reality. I can finally have an actual dedicated workspace area that isn't just a corner of a small den, we can separate our leisure space from our work space, we can decorate the whole place how we want it, we don't have to worry about being intruded upon during our conversations, we'll have so much more counter space in the bathroom and kitchen, we don't have to pray that she's not in the bathroom every time we need to use it because that inevitably means we either have to wait an hour or go piss in the corner toilet shoved next to the washing machines, we can put the doors that originally separated the living room from the kitchen and hallway back up because she had removed them to make space for her 15437281 bookshelves. Much of what I'm describing isn't anything that was her 'fault', it was just the circumstances of living with a roommate which I'm just so excited for my husband and I to get away from.

But of course, her leaving means we now gotta make up for what she would normally cover in bills each month (the biggest of which is obviously rent). And with how dire the tattooing scene has become, leaving my shop to pursue other ventures - even if it costs me more time and money and energy on the forefront to do so - felt like a necessary change, because staying there certainly wasn't gonna accomplish anything, either. The shop kind of felt like a sinkhole in and of itself as well, a bottomless pit of unrewarded effort and stress, weighing down on my subconscious every day. While many of these feelings were largely personal, they weren't helped by the nature of that environment being what it was.

Part of my ongoing treatment for my ADHD is accepting and reminding myself that it is a disorder and that I need to allow myself to walk the path of least resistance, rather than force myself to conform to what I think I "should" be able to do out of the instilled belief that if I can't, I'm "failing". Rather, I need to actually build an environment for myself that doesn't work against me. It's not that I'm failing completely on my own, it's a failure of the systems and environments that I've forced myself to exist in for years. What I'm trying to do is going "against the norm", sure, but for someone with ADHD, going against the norm is necessary because the norm isn't built for me.

Going solo with my tattooing and freelance work might end up not panning out, but I won't know until I try, and for now, it sure beats the path of resistance that I've been drudging through with what's now amounted to very little. Going solo means my time is my time again, as is my work and rewards. As scary as it was to hand in that letter of resignation, I've removed myself from the path that was hindering me and set myself on another that promises, at the very least, change. Whether or not it ends up being beneficial or productive change, well, that's something I'll be finding out as I walk it. At least now I can walk it with my head held high and my hopes renewed.

---------------------

It goes without saying that this year has been a rough one so far, and we're only at the end of March. I'm sure most people can tell that I'm not really as "present" as I used to be, especially when it comes to the constant delays in Rekindled updates and lack of posting outside of that. I've been in a state of limbo, where everything and nothing is happening at the same time, waiting for the moment when I could finally make progress (and as I described above, much of that has been tied to my roommate finally leaving). With the move-out date right around the corner, and my resignation handed in, it feels like I can finally start removing things from my plate to make it more manageable, and rearranging everything to include the things I want rather than the tasteless, unfulfilling garbage I've been choking down.

But that leads me to one of the things that will be getting removed from that metaphorical plate.

------------------------

Anyone with ADHD and RSD knows that it's hard to be selfish, even when the situation calls for it. But sometimes you have to be, for the sake of establishing and respecting your own boundaries and care.

So, in a little act of selfishness for the sake of self-care: Episode 70 will be going up as soon as it's available, I'm hoping by next weekend at the latest. After that, Episode 71 will also be going out as soon as it's available, hopefully within 2-3 weeks time as has been needed over the past few months. This will hopefully line up with my resignation from my shop.

Following Episode 71, Rekindled will be taking a mid-season hiatus.

I know this kind of sucks considering all the delays we've already endured, but it's precisely because of those frequent delays as of late that a hiatus is sorely needed. It not only gives me time to rebuild a buffer of some kind, but largely to focus on cleaning up that aforementioned plate of bullshit that Gorgon Ramses himself would throw at a wall.

I'm aiming for the hiatus to last between 2-3 months. During this time, I'm hoping that I'll find enough stability in my real life to dedicate time and care to it again. The reality is that a free-time hobbyist project like this does require free time. And that free time is hard to justify when it's all the time on account of lack of consistent paid work. To put it simply, if I don't have a roof over my head, I can't keep doing what I do here. Rest assured, it's not that dire yet, but it would be if I stayed on the same path. Projects like these are at their best when they can just be done in one's free time, for fun, without the stress of mounting bills and other responsibilities piled on top. That pile's been getting pretty high for me lately and now even Rekindled hasn't been safe from it - while the art and story has continued to elevate itself with each new episode, the turnaround time has lengthened and the stress of Real Life™️ outside of it has affected my own enjoyment in making it.

I love making Rekindled. But if I want to keep loving it, I have to put it aside for a bit so I can cultivate a better environment in which to create it in. Ultimately the suffering and spite isn't what makes Rekindled great, it's joy and care. And neither of those things can be committed to it when everything else around me feels like it's been burned down.

I do still have my own doubts with this decision. Going on long-term hiatuses has always been difficult for me, largely when it comes to getting out of them (fans of my original work are all too familiar with this). But I know the circumstances here aren't the same, and that they won't repeat themselves if I don't allow them to. I have far better tools to combat burnout now than I did even just a year or two ago, but one of those tools is drawing boundaries and knowing when to step away.

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This was obviously a VERY long post and I realize with the Rekindled hiatus announcement near the ass end, a lot of people will surely be wondering where tf Episode 70 is LMAO but I'm sure I'll get asks in my inbox about it anyways that I can respond to, and when we actually go on mid-season hiatus, it'll be mentioned properly in the episode itself with a link to this post.

With my roommate moving out soon and my shop resignation now turned in, I feel like now I at least have the mental room to start breathing again, rather than gasping for air. And that will, in the long run, also allow me to create even more cool shit for both myself and all of you :> I do have plans, both for Rekindled after its hiatus and other projects (wink wink), that I now feel like I can start really getting off the ground with the shackles of my living situation and work environment finally loosening. And I do hope that, whenever those plans start to materialize, y'all enjoy what I have in store! It'll take some patience, and a lot of work, but it's work that I'm hoping will pay off in all the best ways ┬┴┬┴┤･ω･)ﾉ

Thank you all for your patience, kindness, and support. I know I've been saying this a lot lately with each episode delay, but I am really grateful to get to create what I do for you all. And I wanna keep doing it. I just can't do it without filling in that pesky sinkhole first (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و

[skimmingmilk]

one word promot if you choose to accept (love your work) : anyphylactic shock! 💙

Allergies are in the Air, but not a Breath to Breathe

"Oh! While you're here, we have to take you to the new bubble tea shop that opened down the street from us!" Amy skipped ahead of Tails and Cream, her crossbody bag swinging from side to side and continuously bouncing off her hip.

Tails's brow arched, mouth quirked to one side. "'Bubble tea?' It's not flavored with soap, is it?"

Cream giggled into her hands while Amy sighed and spun on her heel to face them both. "No. Don't encourage him, Cream."

"I'm sorry, Amy," she replied, covering her mouth to hide her smile, but couldn't quite mask the way it still lit up her eyes.

Shaking her head, Amy wagged her finger at them. "You know, I don't have to treat you two to what's definitely the most delicious treat you've yet to experience in your young lives."

Tails couldn't help rolling his eyes at her theatrics. "That's a bold claim. Do they come in mint?"

A sly smile spread across Amy's muzzle before she clasped her hands behind her and twirled to face away from them to walk forward again. "As a matter of fact, they do."

"They come in lots of different flavors," Cream piped up. "Like strawberry and coconut and taro and um… there's others, too, but Mama says I'm only allowed to have a couple kinds."

"Just the kind without caffeine," Amy clarified. "You're not quite old enough yet!"

Tails made the correct decision to keep his mouth shut rather than inform either of the girls that he was about Cream's age when he had his first caffeinated beverage, and even younger when Sonic let him steal a few sips of whatever soda he was drinking. "So what makes the bubbles? Carbonation? Are they like Soleanna sodas but with tea?"

"Nope! But that's a pretty good guess," Amy giggled, looping her arm around Tails's as she took Cream's hand in the other. "C'mon, you'll see!"

Sweet Bubbles Teahouse was a cute little shop with a pink and white candy striped awning. Inside was surprisingly modern, pastel neon gleaming off the sleek white counters and tile floor. A bunch of neon circles in a rainbow of colors traveled up one of the walls, like they were bubbles floating towards the ceiling. A massive menu hung over the counter with their seasonal specials and most popular drinks written on a small chalkboard square in the center.

Tails read over the menu several times, impressed by the level of customization each kind of drink offered. There were iced teas, milk teas, smoothies, and shakes. Even some hot teas, lemonades, and slushie-type drinks. The percentage of sweetness could be altered to one's taste, as well as the amount of ice in a cup. And there were at least a dozen different toppings, half of which Tails never would've considered putting in a drink. Like red beans, aloe jelly, or egg custard.

"How do you know what flavor combinations work best?" Tails asked. "This seems like it would result in a lot of trial and error."

"Well, they have a few recommendations," Amy answered, pointing out the board with their top-selling drinks. "But if you're feeling adventurous, then you could try combining whatever flavors you wanted! Who knows, some ingredients that don't seem like they would go together at first glance might surprise you!"

"Sure, but I think I'll pass on pairing the salted cheese foam with peppermint," Tails hummed, squinting at that particular topping with a heavy dose of doubt. "That sounds more like a Sonic topping."

"It's actually pretty good on matcha and regular milk teas," Amy offered up. "But I think for your first order we should keep things simple. Just get a peppermint milk tea with boba pearls."

"What's 'boba?'"

"They're why it's called 'bubble tea.' They're tapioca balls, but they look kinda like a bunch of bubbles." She pointed at the pick-up counter as someone when to grab a purple drink dotted with small, black spheres at the bottom of the cup. "They're pretty popular in the eastern countries and eventually made their way over here. I'm surprised you and Sonic haven't come across them yet in all your travels."

"Well, I can't speak for him. He might've. He goes sightseeing more than me." Tails tilted his head, sizing up the drink as the customer passed by them. "Huh. That's not at all what I thought tapioca looked like. I've only ever heard of it in pudding."

"It's a flour, I think? Tapioca pearls are usually pretty sweet and really chewy," Amy explained. "They're not everyone's thing, but I think they're great! And Cream likes them, too!"

"Mmhm. Amy, may I have a strawberry with boba and custard, please?" the little rabbit asked sweetly.

"Of course, that sounds so yummy!"

Amy also got a strawberry milk tea, though she passed on the custard and just stuck with boba. As they were handed their drinks and extra large straws, Tails eyed the dense collection of tapioca pearls at the bottom of his cup dubiously.

"This kinda seems like a choking hazard."

"Well, yeah, I guess you could choke on them. You just have to be careful when you drink." Amy led them to a small table so she could punch the straws through the plastic covers sealed over the cups. "There we go!"

Tails took the offered cup, gave it an experimental stir, then took a small sip. The tea itself was nice and creamy, a little sweeter than he normally took his tea, but not in a bad way. At first he didn't get any of the tapioca pearls, so he took another longer drink, only for several to shoot up the straw all at once. He managed to catch them in his teeth before they slid right down his throat. Chewing carefully, he did his best to ignore Amy and Cream while they giggled at his expression, both of them more interested in his reaction than their own drinks. They were sticky, but pretty easy to chew through and the flavor was overall unassuming. Sugar was really the only taste he could really pinpoint. It was just the texture that was odd. He wasn't used to a consistency like this being in a beverage.

Tails took another thoughtful sip, better prepared for the boba as it passed through the straw. "It's not bad," he said after a beat. "I don't know if it's good, but it's not bad."

"It definitely takes some getting used to," Amy laughed. "But I promise it'll grow on you!"

"Hmm," he hummed around his straw, drinking more so he could draw a proper conclusion about it faster.

They left the bubble tea shop with drinks in hand, while Amy recalled the first few times she had boba and how she hadn't been sure if she liked it until the third or fourth time she tried it. As they walked, Tails found the milk in the tea was starting to coat his throat, a phlegmy sort of feeling building up. He cleared his throat, waving off Cream's curious look with a smile.

They parted ways at the doors to Amy and Cream's apartment building, with Tails waving until they disappeared through the glass. Drink still in hand, he continued along the newly-familiar road to the Central City workshop. It was about a thirty minute walk from Amy's apartment if he took it at a leisurely pace, but Tails didn't mind the opportunity to stretch his legs from time to time. A good walk occasionally helped to clear his head, reignite some ideas that had been left to simmer on the back burner with the lid on.

The downtown crowds thinned out as he headed towards the more industrial district. Central City had originally been a bustling steel mill along with being named the capital of the United Federation; the central location it was named for ideal for shipping exports across the country via the rivers and railroads. Tails had opted to establish his second workshop in one of the abandoned steel mills at the edge of the city, overlooking the coast of Emerald Lake and its green hills. As much as he'd wanted another base of operations close to Amy and the Rabbits, part of him still preferred the quiet of nature to the hustle and bustle of city life. It was close enough to be convenient, while still far enough away that he didn't feel so closed in on all sides.

Plus, there was plenty of space to land his planes.

Tails coughed into his fist as he passed several factories and warehouses, clearing his throat a bit more forcefully as he frowned to himself and took another sip to soothe the itch. He still hadn't fully decided how he felt about the pearls in his drink. Though he did have to admit that their presence encouraged him to sip more slowly and savor the beverage better than if he'd just guzzled it down. After all, it was rather refreshing to have with him on his walk. Especially since the gummed up feeling in his throat lingered, eventually turning into a full-out tickle that had to be from more than just the milk in his tea.

The trees in the area had blossomed weeks ago, spring in full bloom in Central City. But Tails didn't suffer from hay fever the way Sonic did, which was actually part of why the fastest thing alive was currently off enjoying the coastal air of the Apotos Isles, since it didn't make him sneeze just from breathing. Still, it was entirely possible a higher than average pollen count could affect Tails in some way, especially since it was his first spring in Central City. Chewing thoughtfully on the tapioca balls, he decided he'd do a little research once he got back to the workshop, for curiosity's sake.

By the time he punched in the alarm code to his workshop, chills wracked his body with a sudden intensity that honestly shocked him. Though he'd long shed his winter coat, they were definitely in the warmer half of spring. The balmy afternoon air and brisk walk should've left him feeling more overheated than anything. Shivering as he entered the cool, insulated workshop, he wound his tails around himself for warmth and headed for the kitchen.

The Central City workshop wasn't as "homey" as the one in Mystic Ruins, but that had never been its intent. It was a place Tails could work on projects that had long outgrown his initial workspace, with plenty of room to expand. It was also somewhere he and Sonic could stay comfortably for a few days at a time, so visits with Amy and the Rabbits didn't have to feel so rushed. Even so, its residential layout was far more industrial than the Mystic Ruins, with more segmented rooms and narrow hallways connecting anything that wasn't his main workshop area.

The long, dimly lit corridor ahead of him rippled like it was underwater, his legs suddenly unsteady as he leaned against the wall, panting for breath like it was hard to catch it. Air forced itself down his throat with each inhale, but the peculiar wheezing sound that accompanied it was different from anything he'd ever experienced. He'd been out of breath before, sick and congested with a sore throat and inflamed tonsils.

This felt different.

This felt wrong.

Tails blinked away the dizzy spell. He made it into the kitchen and threw away his empty boba cup in the trash before grabbing a glass of water. It hurt to swallow, the ice cold water doing little to soothe the inflammation steadily taking over his throat. Tails rubbed at it as he coughed, refilling his water, but this time took it with him into the actual workshop.

He'd never heard of a sickness coming on so quickly, not even for Sonic, but his breaths were too shallow and there was a clammy, tingly feeling under his fur despite the chill that had encased his bones. Once he settled at his computer, Tails pried his fingers away from his neck, forcing them to type his symptoms into his search engine. This wasn't normal. Not for him, anyway.

Had he been poisoned somehow? Something slipped in his tea? He shouldn't have thrown the cup away. He'd need to retrieve it, get a sample from it, run an analysis. Tails coughed again, but this time his breathing hitched; wheezy gasps trying to fill his lungs with air as a too-tight feeling constricted his chest.

The cup of water slipped from his grasp as he pressed his hand against his chest, palm pushing fruitlessly at his heart. He didn't hear it shatter against the concrete floor, too distracted by his own heartbeat drumming out a frantic beat between his ears, muffling the clacking on his keyboard and high-pitched warning beep from his comm. Wide eyes flicked down to the screen on his wrist. His vitals were all in the yellow, rapidly tipping into the red as his blood-oxygen levels dropped.

He wasn't getting enough air. He couldn't breathe.

He was alone.

He was going to die alone.

Tails's vision blurred as the drop in blood pressure made his head spin. Slumping to one side, he watched the world tumble around him as he fell out of his chair. Lying on the ground helped, even though the concrete was cold and wet and did nothing for his shivering. But it kept the blood from flowing out of his head, helping maintain consciousness while he wheezed desperately for air. Panic overrode his genius, the instinctive desire to survive taking root in the primitive part of his brain. Tails hyperfocused on the red light flashing on wrist comm, the numbers meaningless as he fumbled to press the call button.

His heart didn't sound as loud in his ears anymore, but there was still a distant, dull pounding echoing around him. A far away thunk thunk thunk…

The crash sounded much closer. A projectile tearing straight through sheet metal that would've made him jump if he wasn't already frozen on the ground, seized with panic. And dying.

"Tails!" His name ripped out of someone's throat, echoing off steel beams and concrete to surround him on all sides. "Where are you? Tails! Tails—"

A blurry figure crouched over him, still crumpled on the floor, but Tails recognized the shade of blue and the shape of razor sharp quills, raised high and alert and ready for danger. Tails pawed at him instinctively, clumsily trying to grab onto him and sign something at the same time as the drop in oxygen made his brain even more muddled. A hand clasped around his and squeezed while the other pressed into his chest, against his swollen throat, then forced his jaw open until it ached.

Silent, Sonic searched for what was wrong with an intensity that rarely reared its head, his green eyes sharp and focused while Tails's glazed over. "Hey, hey, hey. None of that. C'mon, eyes on me, kid."

The stern order punctuated with several firm pats to his cheek kept him from closing his eyes completely, but even lying down couldn't prevent Tails from vision from whiting out as lightheadedness crept up on him with renewed vigor. He almost welcomed it. Like it was okay to let go now. Because with it also came the sudden childish urge to cry with relief—I'm not alone anymore, Sonic will fix it, Sonic will make it better—because he was safest with Sonic. Sonic wouldn't let anything happen to him.

Weightlessness swept him up as he was lifted off the ground, cradled in his big brother's arms like a baby. But Tails didn't have the voice to complain as his windpipe swelled up and sealed itself shut with a weak, breathless wheeze. The workshop vanished in a rush; a blur of colors and sounds as more air was sucked from his body, a risk that Sonic's speed was worth the five seconds it took.

"He can't breathe! Somebody help him!" Sonic's voice boomed around him, vibrating against his ear where it pressed against his chest, a firm hand locking him in place so the whiplash wouldn't snap his neck.

Normally Tails could adjust himself whenever Sonic whisked him off at top speeds, he knew how to relax his muscles and hold his posture to avoid injuring himself. But he couldn't even lift his head as it lolled onto the stretcher wheeled out for him, let alone hold onto Sonic before he was pulled out of his arms. A silent whimper was stuck in his swollen throat as strange hands dragged him away somewhere new and unfamiliar. The feeling of safety he'd just been blanketed in torn from him and lost to the wind.

The lights above him were too bright. Their auras stabbed directly into his brain even when he closed his eyes against them. His wrist comm was pried off, its beeping finally silenced, until something else took its place. A new heart monitor picked up where it left off with a fast-paced fury while a feeling of dread slowly dripped through his veins. Thick and dark and slowly dragging him down into hopelessness as the new, strange hands moved him and felt in all the places Sonic had already checked.

Because if Sonic couldn't save him… if Sonic wasn't there… what was the point? He was nothing without him. Nothing. A void of nothingness that would swallow him up from the inside out.

"What is he allergic to?" someone asked directly over his head, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

"Nothing! At least I don't think—I mean, this has never—he's never been like this—" Sonic stammered, but his voice was close enough to clear away some of the dread that clouded Tails's mind.

Sonic.

"Is there a family history of allergies?"

"I don't—" Tails forced his eyes open, blearily searching against a sea of sickly, pale green walls for his big brother, catching sight of him watching helplessly from the sidelines. "I don't know."

"What has he eaten today? Did he take any medication?"

"I…" Sonic sounded like he was the one having trouble breathing, pupils like pin pricks as he stared sightlessly at Tails, even as Tails stared back. "I don't know. I wasn't there."

Something punched him in the thigh.

Tears sprang to his eyes as the constriction around his chest released and Tails felt a rush of oxygen flood his lungs like they couldn't fill up fast enough. The chilled, prickly sensation under his skin started to fade as his surroundings cleared up. There were several medical staff hovering over him, a curtain cordoning him off from what was likely the rest of the emergency room of a hospital. Everything had happened in such a whirlwind, Tails hadn't had time to fully connect the dots that was where Sonic had taken him.

Tails's brow furrowed as a cone-like mask was pressed over his muzzle and secured, forcing more oxygen into him as everything came back into focus. Something pricked him in the arm and his attention swiveled to the nurse who was setting up an IV drip of something into his system. Someone had also removed his gloves, his fingers feeling swollen and tight as he made a fist.

"Hey, there. Just keep breathing normally for me, alright?" The person who'd been peppering Sonic with questions spoke up again, but her voice was softer this time around, in the way that adults tended to speak to children they didn't know.

Tails tilted his head to put her in his field of vision. The doctor was a tapir mobian, warming a stethoscope against her coat before pressing it to Tails's chest. She watched the monitor as his heart continued to race, but his oxygen levels steadily improved as whatever had been injected into his thigh coursed through his veins.

She then moved the stethoscope up to one side of his neck, listened for a few breaths, then shifted to the other side. "That's sounding better," she said, offering him a reassuring smile. "How are you feeling?"

Tails's frown deepened. Obviously he couldn't respond with the oxygen mask over his mouth. He made the sign for "peach" by brushing his fingers along the side of his cheek and pinching them roughly, meaning "just peachy" in his and Sonic's shorthand before he flipped her off.

He heard his big brother huff out a laugh that was more delirious than anything, and though the doctor didn't share in his amusement, she wasn't offended by his apparent rudeness.

"A little grogginess and irritability is normal," she relayed, then looked over to the other medical staff hovering around his bed. "Continue to monitor his heart rate and blood pressure. Let's see how he reacts to the antihistamine and prednisone, then administer another dose of epinephrine in fifteen minutes if symptoms persist."

"'Persist?' Whaddya mean persist? You just said he was sounding better," Sonic interjected, a panicked edge still in his voice as he pressed for answers and pushed past the doctor to Tails's side. "He already looks better, see? Hey there, little bro. Long time no see, huh?"

His smile was just as strained as his voice, but still genuine as he clasped the hand that wasn't attached to the arm hooked up to the IV. Tails held on tight and squeezed, craving the familiar contact amidst the injections and sticky monitoring pads on his chest and the tightness of the mask around his muzzle. The frantic beeping of his heart was still so fast��faster than Sonic's at baseline—and the constant high-pitched noise only added to his mounting anxiety. It didn't seem to help Sonic's either, though he didn't let the heart monitor distract him from keeping his eyes on his little brother's face, from keeping Tails focused on him.

"Recovery from anaphylactic shock isn't instantaneous. There can be biphasic or delayed reactions to the allergen in his system, so it's best to monitor him for the next four to six hours," Doctor Tapir explained. "You said you're the patient's guardian?" She waited for Sonic's firm nod before continuing, "I'll connect you with our pediatric ward's allergist to discuss allergen testing and preventative measures going forward."

"Preventative…? What, like in case this happens again?" Sonic bristled and his grip on Tails tightened.

"Without knowing what triggered his anaphylaxis, there is an increased risk that he could come into contact with it again if you don't know what steps you need to take to avoid it or if it was due to an insect sting, medication, or something he ate."

Tails's fingers twitched in Sonic's grasp, pulling back once he was released to spell out four letters. B-O-B-A. He watched Sonic's eyes, waiting for him to catch on as he repeated the motion and made the sign for "new."

"B-O-B-A?" Sonic said aloud, voice laced with an unfamiliar hesitation. "New boba? Huh?"

"You had boba tea today?" Doctor Tapir turned her attention back on Tails and he managed a wobbly nod. "Was there something you'd never had before in it? Was it the tapioca?" His head bobbed again, then offered a thumbs up to confirm her train of thought. "I'll make a note of that in your chart and recommend the allergist look into tapioca allergies when they come speak with you. For now, just try and rest. Anaphylaxis can be very scary, but we'll be right here to keep an eye on you, alright?"

Tails fought not to roll his eyes and simply held up his thumb again, momentarily wishing he was still out of it, if only so he didn't have to listen to such a patronizing tone.

---

It wasn't a common allergy, apparently, but still perfectly capable of triggering anaphylaxis. Tapioca came from the cassava root, whose compounds were similar enough to latex that the body could occasionally mistake the former for the latter. Tails's skin test came back positive for a latex allergy; the mild contact he'd come into it over the years had never been enough to cause an extreme reaction until he'd ingested the tapioca pearls.

Due to wearing gloves practically ninety percent of the time, any physical contact he'd have made with latex in the handles of tools or in toys had been with a barrier. The itchy feeling he'd sometimes get when he wore bandaids was just something he thought happened to everyone because of the sticky adhesive clinging to his fur. Occasionally if he ate certain fruits that weren't ripe enough he'd get a scratchy throat, but he'd never thought it was because he was having an allergic reaction. It always went away on its own.

But apparently allergies could develop over time. The latex allergy, specifically, often stemmed from coming into frequent, prolonged contact with it. Given his age, the allergist's working theory was that he'd either had surgical interventions as an infant that gradually lowered his body's tolerance to latex or that he'd inherited the allergy through genetics, that it ran in his family.

"But we can't say that for certain since we don't have a record for your health from before age five, Miles," he'd observed. "Or any kind of family history whatsoever."

"I don't know what to tell you, doc, other than point out the obvious that my legal guardian is a teenager who is a completely different species from me," Tails drolled. "I think it's fair to say a complete medical history isn't something within the realm of possibility here. Jeez, they let just anyone graduate from medical school these days, huh?"

The allergist wrote them a prescription for epinephrine autoinjectors and provided them with an information packet on childhood allergies, latex allergies, and latex fruit syndrome. They could make an appointment in a few weeks if they wanted another consult or further testing when Tails was fully recovered and in better spirits. Or, as Sonic put it, less likely to bite someone's head off.

He would've been his next victim for that if Tails hadn't wanted him to stay close by.

In the chair pushed up against his bedside, Sonic sat holding his hand, his thumb resting over the pulse point in his wrist while his eyes tracked through the literature they'd been given, since Tails was still a little too foggy to really retain most of it. And still a little spiteful. He already planned on doing his own research once he got back to the workshop, a bit miffed that he even had to in the first place.

It wasn't just the doctors and being in the hospital and the post-anaphylaxis fatigue that had him pouting like a petulant kid. He'd never been allergic to anything before. Granted, apparently he'd never eaten anything from a cassava root before and sure, allergies could develop over time, but the fact that it was latex of all things was what stung. It was in standard medical grade materials, in rubber tires and tubing and tools, a common component in athletic shoes and sportswear. He would have to pay closer attention to basic supplies he brought into his workshop going forward for his own safety, all because his body decided latex was a harmful, invasive substance.

And that was just annoying.

Even more annoying than being stuck in the ER with nurses checking on him every few minutes while stuck with an IV needle while his thigh throbbed from being jammed with a shot adrenaline for over four hours. At least he'd eventually get to go home. The allergy he'd have for life.

"Can we go now?" Tails whined, his voice rough and croaky, like he'd swallowed nails in his milk tea instead of chewy tapioca pearls.

"In a bit." Sonic didn't look up from the page he was reading, but he rubbed a reassuring circle against Tails's wrist with his thumb. "Doc just wants your blood pressure to come back up first."

"But it's so boring," Tails sighed, head lolling against the pillow dramatically. "I don't even have anything to tinker with while I wait."

"Don't know what to tell ya, pal. Grabbing the Miles Electric wasn't exactly a top priority when we left," Sonic hummed, the lightness in his tone betrayed by the undercurrent of irritation hiding just beneath the surface.

That, and he never called it the Miles Electric.

Tails tilted his head back to look up at him, Sonic completely still save for the way his eyes followed each sentence. His foot wasn't even tapping, the only sound he made just the occasional rustle of paper as he turned a page of the packet on what to know about allergies in children. From the intense look on his face, one would've thought he'd been tasked with dismantling a nuclear warhead instead of how to handle his little brother's diagnosis with non-latex kiddie gloves.

Tails squeezed his hand. "I'm okay."

"Yeah you are," the response came automatically, like a script embedded in Sonic's coding whenever it came to processing things like emotional stressors. "Like I always say: you're one tough kid, kid."

"Sonic." This time Tails tugged on his hand, seeking his attention like he was a little kid again.

Green eyes slid over to him then, up along his arm and past the sensors still attached to his chest until they landed on his face, long since freed from the oxygen mask. A reassuring smile was already plastered on his muzzle, but Tails didn't want it.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he croaked.

"Scared who?" Sonic teased, armed with a wink and an easy squeeze to his hand. But when Tails only looked up at him with wide eyes imploring for his forgiveness, he dropped the act with a sigh and held on a little bit tighter. "You're okay now. That's what matters. And now that we know what caused it, it's never gonna happen again, yeah?"

The prescription of EpiPens they'd be leaving the emergency room with said otherwise, but Tails understood what Sonic meant. He meant they'd never be caught off guard by something like this again. Now that they knew what to look for, they'd be prepared; equipped with both knowledge and supplies.

A light tap against his wrist distracted Tails for a moment. "And I've gotta say, those wrist comms of yours really came in clutch, Tails. I'm glad it told me that something was wrong and where to find you."

"I would've," Tails piped up. "I swear, I would've called you. It just happened so fast, by the time I realized something was really wrong, I was already—it was too—"

"I know." Sonic set aside the health packet, shifting in his chair to fully face Tails and clasped his other hand over their joined ones. "It's okay, bud. I know. That's why you built that feature in the first place, huh? In case we're ever too hurt to let someone know?" Sonic's muzzle quirked up on one side when Tails nodded. "That's my little buddy's big brain at work right there. Doing what he does best. Looking out for us before we even know there's something to look out for."

"Thought you just called that worrying too much," Tails mumbled, embarrassed by the earnest praise.

"Nah… s'not too much." Sonic shrugged it off like he'd never meant anything by it, and maybe he hadn't, then he removed one hand to rest atop Tails's head instead, stroking the space between his ears. "You're always just the right amount of much."

Tails blamed it on feeling a little woozy still when his eyes grew damp, even though he couldn't help but smile, hearing what Sonic always left hidden in plain sight between the spaces of the words he spoke. "Love you, too."

Sonic snorted, a sharp exhale through his nose as he shot him a pointed look, but it was an amused one nonetheless. "Okay. Easy on the sap, big guy. Don't ya know that's where latex comes from?" He shook the papers from dramatic effect, grinning when it got a laugh and an eyeroll out of Tails. "Here, hold onto these for me. I'll see if I can get them to give me your wrist comm back so you can let Amy and Knux know you're okay. Help you pass the time faster."

Tails collected the packets in his lap and cocked his head to one side curiously. "I thought you already texted them?"

"I did, but apparently that's not good enough." Sonic stood up, raising his arms over his head in a big stretch, then shrugged helplessly. "Eh. They wanna hear from you. Guess I can't really blame 'em."

Their comms were set up to receive Tails's distress signal, too, after all. They'd both had to witness the way his vitals dropped drastically into the red, then were cut off from them completely when the comm was removed. Sonic kept them up to date as best as he could, but he wasn't known for being the most responsive or detailed texter. All Tails knew was that he'd managed to deter them from bursting into the ER with fists and hammer blazing, just because visitation was so limited and that kind of chaos might not have been beneficial to Tails's recovery.

"We should visit Angel Island in a few days," Tails piped up as Sonic pulled the curtain back. "You, me, and Amy. It's been a minute."

A crooked smile curved Sonic's muzzle. "Yeah, it has. I like the way you think, keed." Sonic tapped the side of his own head with a wink. "Be back in a Sonic second."

"Jam and juice, big bro."

"S'what I do best!"

Tails watched as the curtain fluttered back into place, his smile fading a bit as he glanced down at the papers in his lap. He'd never been allergic to anything before and it would change his entire life, but if Sonic was willing to sit still for hours on end just to learn to adapt for him, then the least Tails could do was try to adapt, too. He wasn't going to make this Sonic's problem. This wasn't going to be something he'd need to waste time worrying about. That wasn't Sonic's style.

And Tails refused to let this be the thing to change that for him.

With the sound of his own heart still beeping at his bedside, Tails settled back against his pillow with a determined look in his eyes and started reading.

---

A/N: I wasn't actually sure if I'd be able to come up with something for this prompt initially. I never really considered any of the cast having an allergy that would lead to anaphylaxis, especially not Tails. But he was the most interesting case for me to have this happen to, mostly for the sake that he's such an independent kid who's often left alone for days or weeks. I wanted to write about his first experience with anaphylaxis, but it meant that out of all the random things he and Sonic have eaten over the years, it needed to be something he hasn't had before. Or, it could've been, after all, he could've developed the allergy later on. It also could've been medication, but the image of him casually trying a new food was what stuck with me.

So I started doing research, and actually found things that kind of made sense for the Picket Fence timeline. Like, it didn't have to be connected, I definitely could've written something unrelated to that continuity, but the more I researched, the more I was inspired. So thanks, anon! This gave me a lot to think about and actually expanded a bit of the lore for Tails.

Anaphylaxis can present differently for some people, with the general consensus being it must affect two or more systems (like respiratory, digestion, circulatory, or epidermal). For my readers out there with severe allergies, remember to always have your EpiPen on you and to still go to the ER after administering it just in case you have a delayed reaction! That's our Sonic Sez segment for the day.

Thank you for reading! 💙

[ramp-it-up]

Party Games

Summary: You want it bad.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2K

A/N: This wasn’t the kink y’all picked, but here we are. It’s two am. 🥴 Hope you enjoy! You can read this as a companion piece to That Face.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Reader is owning her sexuality. This is about a nal s ex and it’s enjoyment. Allusions to past acts and partners. A teeny bit of angst, but mostly pwp. Bucky has turned reader out but he’s sprung. Drinking, bathroom s ex, mirror s ex, rough s ex, (but Bucky’s so sweet), oral s ex (f receiving), a nal, praise/degradation kink, allusion to group s ex if you squint. Not Beta’d. All errors my own. 

I don’t have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post!

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were having fun at game night. Until the bottle pointed Bucky’s way.

Then the fun turned into need.

“Choose anyone here to do anything with.”

“That’s easy,” Nat laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“No. I’ll give James a pass. He can go with anyone he’d like.”

You were confident of your man.

Bucky’s face lit up.

“Really Doll?”

You hesitated. You didn’t like the way he jumped at that chance. Curse your mouth that ran ahead of your brain when you were tipsy.

You fixed your face as Steve smirked at you two and took a swig of his beer.

“Really James. Live your fantasy.”

Your voice was less confident now.

You held your smile as Bucky grinned and rubbed his hands together, looking around his circle of friends.

He could choose any one of these beautiful people. You'd heard tales of how wild it got with them being in the field before you got together, and even of him and Steve, years ago.

‘Adolescent exploration,’ Bucky had called it.

You lowered your head and braced yourself as you felt him stand up. You didn’t want to see who he chose. You listened, on alert, to the sound of his shoes as he went toward the bedroom door. He stopped, presumably to make his choice.

“Get that ass in here, y/n.”

You gasped and looked behind you to see that Bucky was grinning at you. Everyone started laughing when you got up and skipped toward him.

Bucky pulled you through the bedroom to the bathroom, making sure to close both doors for extra privacy. He chuckled at you.

“How could you even think I’d choose someone else, Doll. You know you’re my one and only.”

You nodded and allowed him to pull you into his arms.

“I know. You know how I get when I drink. I get loose. Create scenarios.”

You shrugged as you smiled up at Bucky, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“You’ve had three beers, Doll. I was counting.”

“You were watching me?”

You angled your neck back as Bucky started licking your pulse point. It was a done deal that you were gonna let him fuck you in your en suite with your friends in the other room.

The question was how.

“Like a hawk, Doll. Was gonna suggest you stop after three. Need you to be sober enough to let me in. You’re a tight fit.”

Bucky’s hand was palming your cunt over your jeans and you ground yourself into the warm metal.

“It’s because you’re so big, James.”

You smirked at him.

“But how much tighter is my ass tho?”

Bucky stopped, pulled back and looked at you, eyes blazing and jaw clenching.

“Fuck. Doll. You want me to fuck ypu like that? Right now?”

Bucky licked his lips, exactly like you imagined the big bad wolf would before he tore you apart.

You whined in anticipation, your core flooding with slick. You whispered your reply to him.

“Yes, Bucky. Please. I- I’ve been thinking about the last time since the last time and I- I need it.”

You reached for him and started unbuckling his belt, a fiend.

Bucky closed his eyes as you went inside his pants and started to stroke him. He was thinking about how you wanted him to fuck you and the way it had you stuttering.

“Please, James. Pretty please?”

When he opened his eyes again, you licked your lips and pouted. How could you be begging for something so filthy yet be so adorable?

His dream girl.

Bucky panted while you handled him, your hand barely closing around his stiff, aching cock.

“Doll…I…”

You watched Bucky’s eyes dilate as he opened his mouth to breathe and you continued to stroke him. The way that you were licking your lips and looking him in the eye made Bucky realize that he was the one that taught you to be bold.

“I’m such a fucking slut for this cock. Want it in my ass, Daddy.”

“Jesus.”

You had Bucky shook. And he admired the monster he’d made.

“Yes, James. Make me your fuck doll. You know what you’ve done to me.”

And it was true.

Bucky Barnes had ruined you.

Turned you out.

Reduced you to a dripping, quivering, distracted mess whenever you thought about it.

You wanted him to do that sweet, dark, feral thing all the time.

All the time.

Something about being impaled on his pretty, hard, huge cock, stretched to your limits, feeling pleasure that was just on the razor's edge of pain and pleasure that had you hooked.

Oh, and when Bucky led you over that edge into that intense pleasure …

God.. you were addicted to it.

That first time, he was gentle, oh so gentle. And, as he promised, he’d made it feel oh so good.

Bucky teased you, pleased you, coaxed you, ate you, stretched you, lubed you, then eased into you so slowly and sweetly that you were on cloud nine the entire time.

And you’d cum harder than you ever had before.

Then Bucky took care of you with a hot bath, food, water, and rest.

The more you did the deed, the more wanton you were for it. You moved, arched, grabbed, and begged for it.

Tonight, the added bonus of people a few feet away had you heated, glowing hot.

And Bucky was like a moth to a flame.

He took you by the waist and brought his mouth to yours, making you open for him in this way first, wanting the tenderness on your lips at the moment. He backed you up to the sink, and left you breathless as he drew away, opening the medicine cabinet.

You were looking down at Bucky’s cock playing peekaboo in your hand as he searched behind you. You looked up when he suddenly exclaimed.

“Ah HA!”

Bucky brought a brand new bottle of lube around in front of you and your heart started beating double time.

Setting the lube down on the counter, Bucky reached for the button on your jeans, sliding your zipper down. His thick, metal index finger traced the slit in your panties, divining your wetness.

“How long were you thinking about this today? Hmmmmm?”

Bucky looked down on you possessively, demanding an account of your intimate thoughts. He took in the lust on your face and reveled in the fact that you really wanted this. His mouth descended toward yours before you had a chance to answer.

Bucky loved making love to you, fucking you, taking you apart and putting you back together. But this kind of connection was the most intimate to him.

It was not just because it felt amazing being inside your delicate, snug walls, but because this uncharted territory yielded just for him. Bucky was not into virginity as a concept, but damn, knowing that he’d made you into this brazen, begging goddess, that you’d let him into a place so sacred to you rendered him a slave to your pleasure, which he could tell was intense.

Bucky turned you around so that you faced the mirror and he pulled up your tank top, exposing your breasts to the bright bathroom light.

“You wore this with no bra on purpose, didn’t you?”

Bucky just stared at your chest instead of touching like you wanted him to, expecting an answer as he pressed his black-jeaned bulge against your ass.

“Yes, James.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he lowered his lips to your neck while his hands came up and played with your nipples, slowly and tenderly circling your areolas. You arched into his hands; you wanted it rough.

The sound you made when he started pulling was everything.

“Eyes open. Watch what I do to you.”

You watched Bucky watch your face and your open mouthed breathing.

When your eyes connected he said, “Good girl.”

You turned your head and kissed him before he grabbed your open jeans and pulled them down your body, kneeling behind you as he took them off.

Bucky sat back on his haunches and looked at you, running his hands up and down your thighs, grabbing your ass and admiring your anatomy.

“So gotdamn beautiful, Doll.”

You shivered as he started kissing your legs, and soon, but not soon enough, licking into your heat.

Bucky’s moans as he participated in his fine dining was enough to make you cum, or maybe it was the anticipation.

It didn’t matter, because by the time he stood up and told you to, “Bend over, Doll,” your knees were already weak.

You watched Bucky tear the plastic off the bottle of lube with his teeth, plucking your own nipples now.

“You ready?”

It was a purely rhetorical question as you moaned in response.

Bucky watched in awe as the cool lube dripped onto your ass and you arched to meet it. A thick metal middle finger quickly warmed both the liquid and you. You let him fuck you there digitally until you begged for him.

“Need you James…please!”

Bucky grunted, reaching around for your clit again.

“Give me one more, Doll.”

His human hand was magic as he worked you from both front and back. Once he had what he wanted, he pulled back to take off his pants and looked down at his prize.

“Shirt too, please.”

He couldn’t deny your look in the mirror; Bucky loved how you loved his body completely.

Finally, he was teasing your tight hole with his cock, sparking electricity and rivulets of slick in your core. You could tell he was holding back because his jaw was clenched and his movements were tentative.

When you bent down and pushed back onto him was when his eyes rolled and you saw his head hang back on his shoulders.

“Holy mother of…. Damn, Doll.”

Soon his eyes were back on yours in the mirror as you fucked yourself back on him.

“Remember when I had to beg you to fuck this sweet ass, Doll?”

Bucky looked down at his thick cock breaching your tight hole. Then he pulled you upright and flush against him for control, one hand around your neck and the other in your cunt as he pounded inside your tightness.

Bucky searched your glazed expression in the mirror, your head lolled back against his flesh shoulder as you rode his cock and his metal hand. Three of his warm, vibrating metal fingers were deep inside your cunt as he slowly fucked your puckered hole.

“Now you beg me.”

“Hmmm. Ummm hmmmm.”

You nodded, mouth open for air as you let the pleasure take over you.

“You really are all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yesss Jamesssss…Ohhhhh yesss.”

The third orgasm while he was buried in you made Bucky wild, and he started pumping in earnest, keenly tuned into your sounds for any sign of discomfort. All you felt was his thick dick pulling and dragging inside the most sensitive parts of you.

And pure rapture.

“I can take it. Give it please!”

At that point Bucky had to stop, and pulled your head up as he whispered in your ear. You could feel his huge cock pumping in time with his heartbeat inside you.

“My beautiful complete cock slut. Such a good fucking girl for me.”

They way he bared his teeth as he snarled it in your ear caused you to spasm again as he fully wrecked you now, pumping voluminous amounts of cum inside you.

“Holy fuck!”

Bucky bit down on your shoulder as you laughed, still impaled on his softening cock. You curled your legs up as he carried you over to the shower and turned it on, him finally releasing you to kiss you thoroughly against the shower wall.

“We’re being rude to our guests, Bucky.”

“Wanna invite them to join us?”

You smirked as you turned around and Bucky started washing your back.

“I draw the line at those party games.”

“Me too,” Bucky smirked, “you’re all mine, Doll.”

“Now let me clean you up…”

And Bucky’s hand was between your legs…

As always: If you liked it, please reblog.

[coqhee]

A DATE FOR YOU! ♡ ENHYPEN MAKNAE LINE

✷ what types of dates enhypen maknae line would take you on! 〟read hyung line here

bf! enha maknae line x afab!reader ︲fluff, romance, comedy, menace niki︲pet names, grammar errors, cursing in niki’s︲950 / more

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 would love taking you for small outings around in the city. he would love to take you to all his favorite spots whether that be a small ice cream parlor, a clothing store, or a fun couple activity! in the end he doesn’t care what he’s doing as long as it’s with you.

“sunoo! look how nice this coat is!” you exclaimed, pulling out the coat. you held it up to your body with your hand extending out the sleeve.

sunoo turned to you gasping at the chic style. “wahh it would look so good on you honey,” he grinned, his cheek plushing up.

he stepped closer to you and inspected the quality of the coat, from the fabric, to the general design. when it came to fashion he knew his stuff.

“its even my favorite brand!” he exclaimed as soon as he saw the tag. his eyes lit up upon seeing it. cute you thought to yourself.

your hand fiddled on the price tag being close to $250 for one coat. while it was nice, you weren’t sure if you had it in you to spend the absurd amount on the piece of clothing.

“ill buy it for you, my girlfriend only deserves the best of the best,” he stated proudly taking the coat from your hands. 

“thank you sunoo, i love you,” you smiled warmly at him. his cheeks turning a shade of rose pink hearing ‘i love you’. it wasn’t the first time he had heard it from you and he hoped itd never be the last.

other members under the cut!

─── ♡ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 and you both prefered lively dates where you get to interact with each other lots. this could be from amusement parks or an art exhibit where you can paint with each other. he loved just getting alone time with you where you can chat and bask in each others presence.

“one more ride before i rip my hair out won, im so tired from walking” you groaned trudging along as your boyfriend dragged you by the hand.

“i promise, one more ride darling. ill even give you a piggyback ride,” jungwon pleaded. he let go of your hand and crouched down so you could get on easier. you giggled at the gesture but obliged regardless.

he ran the rest of the way to the final ride he wanted to take you on, the ferris wheel.

“won… you know i have a fear of heights right..?” you questioned getting off his back. you looked at him with a look of uncertainty.

“i know i know, but you gotta trust me, the view is worth it,” he reassured. he led you, holding your hand walking you the cart. the ride started, and frankly you were terrified but felt a sense of calm as your boyfriend reassured you.

at the top the view of the beautiful sunset arose with its bright colors peaking through the horizon, just above the water. the beautiful hues of orange and hints of pink shown through radiating warmth.

“its so pretty,” you said in awe of the sun’s radiating hues of color.

“not as pretty as you though,” jungwon said smugly poking your nose.

you blush at the comment and watch as he leans in hovering next to your lips for a moment. he finally leans in fully pulling you into a short and sweet kiss before smiling and watching your reaction.

you turn flushed by affection, however you lean in giving him a quick peck watching him turn pink as well.

─── ♡

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 being the menace he is, loves anything with a challenge. he would love a laser tag date or even generally an arcade date. he loves being the best, but wouldn’t mind taking a few L’s if it meant making you happy.

“kiki im catching up in kills,” you taunted motioning at the light up numbers on your gun showing the amount of kills you had gotten in this round of laser tag.

“mm, wont let you catch me though,” niki charged ahead towards the enemy side, quickly ski ding behind a wall panel, taking cover.

while you were on the same team, you both enjoyed the challenge of competing with each other to be better than one another.

“hey whered the tall guy and his bitch go?” someone from the enemy team yelled to his teammate while running down a ramp loudly.

you were stunned by the use of language over a silly laser tag game, but even more surprised in how your boyfriend jumped out of nowhere and sent lasers there way yelling back at them.

“sit down fuckers!” he shouted towards the other team. you weren’t sure how into it he was really getting as he continued yelling profanities at the other team getting riled up at their comment earlier.

you two soon got kicked out of the establishment for his excessive use of curse words, but found him grinning with pride outside the building.

“niki..?” you doing okay?” you asked meekly unsure of his demeanor.

“are you proud of me baby? i got 14 kills and sat them down verbally” he stated smugly. 

you sighed a sigh of relief watching as he came back to his usual nonchalant smug self. 

“so proud of you kiki, now do that again but without getting kicked out,” you retorted back rolling your eyes.

“would this make you proud?” as murmured as he not so long after leaned down to kiss you. the sensation of his lips pressing against yours sending an explosion of butterflies in your stomach.

“very,” you smiled shyly.

─── ♡

a/n: niki’s miiiiiiightve been based on a true story and I got carried away writing it >< likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated dearly!!

@ coqhee 2024. all rights reserved

[illuminiscentboba]

akaashi 2, emotionally unavailable reader 1

romance was something you are so over by this point.

you couldn't help but be being overly critical of every mans actions, over analyzing the interaction to try to find an error in his ways or should you say a red flag enough to ward him away to convince your friends to stop encouraging you to let things progress and give him a chance and to convince yourself that he's no good for you. has anyone ever been good for you?

but him...akaashi keiji was as good as it gets in fact much better everytime you learn something about him. he's tidy, and he smells good the aroma of fresh laundry and coffee almost embedded in his skin, observant, actually remembering things you mention to him in passing and wishing you good luck for exams you mentioned to him a week or two ago, he makes sure to greet you whenever you guys see each other, constantly lightening your load when you head places together.

It's nice to be taken care of and you can't completely conceal your smile and appreciation when you notice him doing these things for you. and while you want to give him a chance to get to know you more, you thought the same about someone a few crushes ago and it was as if you flipped a switch in that man by saying you wanted to know someone in depth before doing the deed. He claimed to know you well enough, mentioning shallow surface level information, asking if there was someone else that occupied your mind. you shuddered to think about the deep and charming voice of akaashi sounding cold and his words turning short and bitter.

In fact there he was a few rows ahead of you, seated with his friends, listening halfheartedly to the banter of his friends. It was no secret to akaashi that you closed yourself off from romance. whenever it would come up you would grow quiet, a conflicted expression on your face. What had happened to you for you to disengage from the scene altogether? He wanted to ask...he wanted to know and if he were to be so bold, pursue you and replace those bad memories with good ones if you were open to it?

He paused glancing around the room, didn't he share this class with you? before you could turn away, his ocean coloured eyes found yours and he gave you a smile and it was as if he passed on his warmth to you because you found yourself smiling back, doing a small shy wave of your own.

class proceeded to go on, until finally, you guys got a break. with how depleted your focus was you had to step out your friends accompanying you on your little walk. similarly, he stepped out during the break heading to the washroom lost in his head trying to coordinate seeing his friend at a different university despite his busy schedule when he heard his name.

"I like him but what if it's too good to be true? someone like that in OUR generation? and they like me?! what if we're all wrong or he's secretly evil then what?"

he held back a chuckle at your last remark. the way you flipped between reason and nonsense was adorable to him, and he honestly didn't blame you. hearing the way some of his peers talked about their partner or the women of their lives made him sick to his stomach.

but wait...you like him back? he could no longer focus on the not so private discussion he heard echoing off the walls of the girls bathroom as he stood outside the boys washroom.

he thought you wanted nothing to do with romance? but then again he was also acting too careful and scared to get hurt as well. he constantly found himself holding back his thoughts and being careful with actions to not scare you away. scared of his feelings and losing you. he already did research on emotional unavailability and is aware that people with it may avoid intimacy and get defensive and he loathed the idea of your adorable smile and laughter being replaced by silence or you avoiding him.

but you like him. he hummed, a big tightlipped smile that was a little too giddy to be written off as regular akaashi behavior, completely forgetting what he went left the classroom for. he headed back, already looking forward to seeing you again and being bold. you gave him just the right amount of courage to stop overthinking, and to make his feelings more known. oh right, and to prove he wasn't the sinister man you seemed to secretly suspect him to be.

[elysiansparadise]

hello ~ I am not sure if you did this one yet, but I will ask you just in case: what are your thoughts on Mercury in the 6th House? I’d deeply appreciate your perspective on this. 🌟

I’d like for you to know how often I look forward to reading your posts, for they are incredibly insightful and neatly noted. I’m certain many would agree with these sentiments. please do keep up the amazing work! I hope your New Year will bring you a series of wonderfully memorable events ~ !

Hello love! Thank you so much for the support and taking the time to write that note down, it makes me very happy. 🤭💗

Mercury in the 6th house

We find one of the best positions for Mercury, since being in this house, it favors the native with a surprising intellect and eye for detail. They don't miss anything, they have an analytical, active mind, even restless at times. They enjoy a good mental challenge and always seem willing to learn from those things that spark their curiosity. These natives are usually excellent at planning, managing details and solving problems. Likewise, they can fall into the multi-talented archetype, since they can develop many different skills throughout their life, due to their need to stay busy and know how to do things on their own. They may have particular talent for design, writing, any type of communication, drawing and other activities where precision is necessary. They have an aptitude for learning new skills, including those that are job-related. These natives are willing to acquire new knowledge and continually improve their abilities of all kinds, and can be very perfectionist and demanding of themselves. They are very good people at planning, and very rarely go unnoticed, because they seem to be one step ahead... or simply because of their observation skills they can accurately predict the actions of others or the outcome of things.

They have the ability to handle multiple tasks at once and often put themselves under a lot of stress by wanting to do too much at the same time. Although it is worth mentioning that natives with this placement are usually efficient and capable of managing several responsibilities simultaneously. There is a tendency to be meticulous and careful in their work. People with this position seek precision and avoid mistakes. They stand out for being people who tend to approach problems rationally and look for practical solutions, they dislike unnecessary drama and to beat around the bush. They are prone to nervous system conditions, anxiety, having problems sleeping, and/or dealing with a lot of stress throughout their lives. I have seen both cases, from being either very careful with the issue of health or forgetting to take care of yourself due to your multiple responsibilities. They may feel great interest in topics of self-improvement, personal care, health, animals, environmental preservation, exercise, and both physical and mental health.

They can stand out a lot in the school and work environment, especially in the latter, as they can be workers with excellent ethics and who constantly look for workshops or other ways to work and perfect their skills. They may work in a place with a lot of gossip. If Mercury is well aspected, it is very likely that you will have a cordial relationship with your co-workers, while if it makes tense aspects to Pluto, Neptune or Mars, aggressive communication or rivalry is likely to be common. Even if they know how to work in a team, they usually prefer to do it on their own, as bad experiences with teamwork can be common, making them feel that only by working on their own they reduce the margin of error and ensure that they will not be rushed in the deadline. It is worth mentioning that although they know how to work well under pressure, they would prefer not to do so in the first place. They are objective people who listen carefully and investigate before speaking, they hate jumping to conclusions and prefer to give their opinion once they know everything about a certain situation. Their advice is very useful and, although they only pretend to be practical or state the obvious, they end up saying just what the other person needs to put their feet on the ground or better understand a certain situation.

-> Go back to the masterlist

[sweetypouch]

Try Again

Mr. Crawling

Synopsis: Maybe in another lifetime, he could finally stay with you.

Fluff (I want to cry)

Reincarnated!Au

School!Au

Mr. Crawling as a human school boy

Grammar errors (?)

Shortest one I wrote so far

Word count: 848

Being a normal student was just as boring as it gets, yet no matter how much you turn things around, it was still weird how someone could like you. Your personality is just the same as others, you never tried to gain much attention at school, and you weren't someone considered as 'beautiful', to say the least, you were just average.

So why is there someone confessing right in front of you? As he patiently waits for your response, the poor boy's trembling hands held out a love letter to you, with lots of hand-drawn hearts that you assumed he doodled down.

All you could think about was, "Why?"

He was confused at first, tempted to make a clear point by repeating his sentence once again. The blush on his face never seemed to go away, it only became redder than before.

To him, you were his everything. He doesn't want to waste his time any more! Not in this lifetime!

Even if you like someone, he wouldn't take it as a no. He was given a chance to make things right, to make you stay, to make you love him. Even if you push him away, it could never make his feelings for you fade away, no one can make him stop.

Maybe you just didn't recognize him, after all, almost everything about him changed, except for his memory.

The news definitely didn't reach you. About the intense shaking that happened in the other world, it erased all that has been there like it never existed, including him and the others. He never expected death to make its way to him and he never expected it to end just like that, it was welcoming but he chose not to let it wrap him up, because you're not with him. If given the chance, he wants to live another life with you, and no words could ever tell what miracle lies ahead, all because of his undying love for you.

The next thing he knew, he's back, with a new body, but his spirit and mind were kept inside him, with you forever engraved in it.

He was more than happy that he could finally make himself look more loveable, so you can finally stay and have your eyes directed only on him. He was not scary anymore, he finally had his eyes visible and his skin was just the same color as yours, however, his hair was still the same, and the good thing is he could finally speak in a language you would finally understand. It was all a dream come true!

When he finally found you, he couldn't control himself anymore and tried everything he could to be close to you, without being too forceful or insisting, of course. He doesn't want to reveal his self too early to you. His 'loyal dog' attitude coming back to its senses when he finally found you. His sudden existence was more than weird considering that he was titled as the new student in your class. He reminded you of someone you wish to see again, someone you loved so much that it hurts.

Just try to take a closer look, I'm sure you'll notice the same scar you made when you slashed him with the crowbar, it was painful but it was like a welcoming gift coming from you; a painfully sweet memory of when he first met you.

His towering figure stood still as the wind brushed his hair away, revealing a scar you never noticed he had. His eyes kept its focus only to you, a soft glimmer inside it, dictating just how serious he is.

That gaze...most people would feel scared by how intense he is, but all you can feel is a sense of longing in it, something deeper than any ocean, and something stronger than any tough weapon.

It was probably rude to compare a human to a non-human, but something about him makes them very identical, you just couldn't find the perfect words to describe it.

The only thing you can feel right now is the feeling you've always wanted to feel once again. There's no point in denying it, there was something about him that pulls you even more to that bittersweet mixture of emotions, the feeling was like when you just found the last piece of the hardest puzzle.

Without realizing it, your hands gently took the letter out of his hands, the smile you just formed was a breath-taking view to him. It was beautiful.

He would sacrifice his own identity to you, only if it means to see that smile every day.

He chuckled when you blushed back, taking the letter means yes and it was hard to resist so he gave in and wrapped you in his arms, a familiar warmth that really adds up to your theory, could it be that heaven created a replica of someone you loved? Just for you to try again and make things right? The thought of it sounds ridiculous enough but if it's possible to come true....

Would you love him in every universe?

[tkaulitzlvr]

BEAUTIFUL - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when tom flirts with an interviewer at an event the two of you are attending, he has to make it up to you once he realises how hurt you are.

content: angst & smut

a/n: something small to compensate for my lack of posts lately, just in case i don’t manage to put something out in the next few days - exams finish after this week so i should be back to uploading a little more regularly!! (not proofread yet - apologies if there are any errors i’ll fix them asap)💗

the drive home is utterly silent. i refuse to turn my gaze toward him, despite the annoyingly noticeable glances he throws in my direction as he takes his eyes off of the road every few minutes, attempting to work out how i feel. doing so had never been easy, though now, it seems completely impossible, my eyes fixed on the road ahead. the only hint that i lend to him is concrete proof of my anger, this part of the endless puzzle of my emotions easy to piece together. tom is aware that he has fucked up, the silence buying him time to carefully consider his choice of words to avoid worsening this situation.

the streetlights lining the smooth path of the highway ahead cast their dull orange light into the silent car, melting onto my stern features, starting at my eyes, dark and heavy, dangerously close to letting the tears welled up within them go, trailing down to my lips, curved downward into a painfully noticeable frown. the radio is just as silent, no longer blaring out tom's obnoxiously loud music, instead replacing its heavy bass with the sound of our breathing, tom clearing his throat when the silence would become slightly too awkward.

it started with the two of us attending another event for the band, this becoming a usual occurrence since i had started dating tom, though i didn't mind it. i had always been supportive of the band - it was impossible to not be, supporting the man i love in the career he is passionate about is something i consider to be my biggest achievement, and i would proudly stand by his side no matter what he decided to pursue, as long as his happiness is guaranteed. he knows just how proud of him i am, this one of many reasons why i make sure i can support him in any way possible, and something that comes along with that is being his plus one for any event.

whether it is a good thing or not, our relationship has never been private. since it's beginning, we made it clear to the public that we are together, parts of our lives perhaps too out there, figuring that allowing unnecessary speculation would only worsen the cruel comments coming our way - though tom never really receives anything close to the backlash that i do.

however boundaries are still something that some couldn't grasp. the publicity of our relationship was and still is visible to anybody with a working pair of eyes. it would be unusual to see me without tom at any event, or to be pictured elsewhere whilst he would be playing a show - the two of us are attached at the hip, utterly infatuated, as the gossip magazines obsessed with our lives would say. and this is why i found myself so enraged that one of his female interviewers acted as if i was invisible, though i maintained my stance beside tom as he answered any questions she directed at him. touching his arm playfully whenever he made a funny comment - though her reaction would always be totally exaggerated, tom's responses never warranting anything more than a slight chuckle, tossing her silky brunette hair and adjusting her already very prominent cleavage at any chance she had, she made it evident that she wanted tom.

and he didn't try to stop her. his eyes scanning her body, twinkling with a foreign sense of lust, speaking thousands of ideas on what he would like to be doing in that moment, forgetting that his girlfriend was beside him. to anyone else, it would look like i was a friend, perhaps even an acquaintance standing beside tom, clearly nothing romantic seeming to be going on between the two of us, his promiscuous glances practically screaming the phrase 'i'm available', regardless of the fact that he is everything but.

it is his acts that lead us to the present, us leaving the event rather abruptly as the tears spilling down my face ruined the makeup i had spent hours applying - for him. embarrassment habituated within the pit of my stomach more than anything, the effort i had put in to look my best meaning seemingly nothing to him.

the berlin cityscape encircles my vision as i watch it quickly pass, skyscrapers and flashing lights heavily contrasting to the emptiness in the sky above, reminding me of why i love this city. the view from the tinted windows of tom's ridiculously priced sports car temporarily distract me from the sorrow i feel, providing me with some sense of security as i find myself longing for more and more of it, my mind and its thoughts spiralling far out of control.

the silence was almost painful, indisputable tension between us so palpable it is almost visible, air thick with thoughts best left unsaid yet i am still unprepared to speak to him, not after he had disregarded me for somebody who couldn't keep her hands away from what had clearly belonged to someone else. his hand hesitantly reaches down from the wheel to caress my thigh, this being a usual habit whenever i am in the passenger seat, yet this time he visibly contemplates doing so, wondering how i will react to his small act of affection.

"don't." i mutter through gritted teeth, my voice shaky and uncertain as i move my leg harshly away from his gentle touch, adjusting the material of my dress so it flows below my knees. an exasperated sigh escapes tom's mouth as he moves his hand to touch the wheel once again, not a single word uttering from either one of us for the entirety of the journey home.

i swiftly exit the car, slamming the door shut and quickly rushing inside of the house that tom and i share, deciding against waiting for him like i usually would. instead, i tug my uncomfortably tall heels off, carrying them under my arm as i trudge up the stairs to our shared bedroom, before he has any chance of catching up to me. i don't need his worthless apologies, especially in this moment when i know one small glance into those eyes will lead to an emotional outburst, or my surrender, his soft features enough to make me forget it all, something which this time, i don't want to do.

my body slumps into the chair facing my vanity as i begin to remove my makeup. the wipe traces across the intricate detailing along my eyelids, smudging the deep orange powder across it, ruining the colour as it smudges with the thick black eyeliner above it messily, completely ruining the blend that i had spent at least an hour perfecting. i take a fresh wipe, running it along my lips, watching the dark pink colour gracing them disappear from my face, leaving the natural colour of them in place of it. my foundation had already been ruined since i had rushed out of the event, long streaks where tears had once fell destroying the flawlessly applied base, the movements of my hands becoming much more ragged, channelling my frustration as i rush to remove each inch of makeup from my face, feeling pathetic for bothering to put any of it on in the first place - it clearly wasn't enough. eyes red and raw, glossy with the thin layer of liquid that covers their exterior, cheeks a light shade of pink from the force i had applied when removing my makeup, my reflection stares back of me, a gut-wrenching reminder that i'm not good enough for him, what i see in the mirror quickly making me realise why. i am a mess - my entire appearance disheveled, an unbelievable contrast to the woman tom had his eyes glued to, everything about her utterly flawless, seemingly crafted by god himself

seconds pass, each one painful and silent, allowing me to continue over-analysing every single aspect of my physical appearance, until a familiar pair of footsteps near my bedroom, a lump in my throat forming as i refuse to turn my head once their presence finally becomes much harder to ignore. even when he walks over, eyes filled with regret, my face remains still, gaze staying put as it burns into my own reflection.

"baby come on, don't be like this." he begins, his hand brushing against my shoulder tenderly as he stands behind me, peppering a single kiss onto where his calloused hand had previously been, this simple act of affection almost making me fold. his reflection gazes into mine through the large mirror in front of us, the tension thickening by the second as my heart closely considers betraying my mind, however remembering the way he acted tonight brings me back into my furious state.

"fuck you tom." i bitterly reply, standing up and swiftly moving into the en-suite, noticing the way he follows closely behind me, clearly not willing to give this up anytime soon. i ignore him regardless of how determined he is, walking toward the mirror and slowly beginning to brush my hair, eyeing his reflection as he moves closer towards me, our gazes interlocking, yet i force myself to look away before I foolishly forgive him.

"i'm sorry, please don't fight with me schatz." he pleads, moving toward me and gently wrapping his arms around my waist from behind,  beginning to plant slow and soft kisses along my neck, his thumbs massaging my stomach lightly. his eyes never leave my own through the mirror, staring intently with a look unable to be mistaken for anything else other than admiration, totally different to how he had ignored me earlier on. though it still isn't enough to put out the worried thoughts that occupy my mind, the belief that i am no longer good enough seeming more real than ever.

"wouldn't you rather be doing this to the girl who interviewed you earlier?" i ask blankly, removing myself from his grasp and walking toward the wardrobe, facing away from him and attempting to remove my dress, yet my small hands fail to reach the zipper that starts from my shoulder blades and travels down to my lower back. i am not in any position to ask tom for help as I usually would, instead mentally cursing myself for wearing this dress. he quickly returns from the bathroom, face softening once he registers my helpless state, his frame nearing my own, stopping once his chest is almost pressed firmly against my back.

"leibe you're being ridiculous." he sighs, moving my hair to the side so that it rests against my shoulder, positioning his hand gently on my lower back, the other reaching towards the zipper that i had struggled to pull down.

"get off me-" i begin, just about ready to pull away from his touch and spew out reminders of how much of an awful boyfriend he is, though i am cut quickly off by his steady breathing close to my ear.

"shhh. let me do this for you, then you can go back to being mad at me, okay?" he whispers gently, breath fanning against my skin as goosebumps begin to form along it, his mouth slightly open whilst he begins to unzip my dress at an agonisingly slow pace, exposing my bare shoulders as he removes the fabric from my upper body, his other hand caressing my waist, so gently as if he could break me. he is careful, tentative even, though his movements become undeniably more calculated, going even further once his face leans forward, in line with my shoulder, sinking lower and lower, until his lips hover over the now bare skin. my eyes are on the verge of closing shut, not stopping him just yet, even when both his hands place themselves firmly onto my hips, pulling my body backward so that it is pressed against his own. it is when his lips ghost over my skin, brushing against it so gently i wonder if i am imagining the contact, that i finally snap out of it.

"you said you would undo the zipper, not undress me." i say, the small moment of lust soon lost within the harshness of my words as i utter them, my back still facing him.

he says nothing, clearing his throat and slowly removing his hands from my waist. despite increasing our proximity more than it had been seconds ago, he still remains closely behind me as i grab an oversized t-shirt and fresh panties from my closet.

"can you leave? i want to get changed." i sigh, rolling my eyes and covering my cleavage as i turn to face him. after seeing the way he looked at her body, i tense in discomfort at the thought of him looking at my own. all the times he called me beautiful quickly seem insignificant as i am suddenly ashamed and insecure, almost embarrassed to be so exposed around him.

"what? you always get changed around me. we've been together for four years schatz, it's nothing i haven't seen before." he states, clearly surprised as i usually have no issue being naked around him, used to being showered with kisses and compliments whenever i am exposed around him, yet now i cannot imagine anything worse.

"my body clearly isn't good enough for you tom, i'm sure her's is perfect. i'm sure you'd agree right? the way you looked at her pretty much fucking said it all anyways." i respond, blinking the tears away as they are dangerously close to falling, my gaze dropping from his as i curse myself for acting so vulnerable around him, for letting him get to me this much.

"you and i both know that's not true." he sighs, reaching to wipe the tear falling down my cheek, his pointer finger gently tilting my chin upwards so that i am met with his gaze. "you know what i think of you. you know how perfect you are to me."

i don't respond, scoffing at his empty spews of supposed reassurance. instead, i ignore his presence as i should have done the first time he walked into the room, grabbing my pyjamas and entering the bathroom, quickly removing my dress and slipping on the t-shirt i had grabbed from the closet. i am immediately engulfed in tom's scent, an addictive mix of vanilla and his favourite cologne, this alone almost convincing me to run into his arms and forgive him. this time i know better, returning to the bedroom to find tom gone.

i take no notice, silently thankful for him leaving me alone. i switch the light off, slipping silently under the covers, allowing them to engulf me in warmth. a few minutes later, the bed dips beside me, tom sighing as i turn over to face away from him, instead of moving into his arms as i usually would.

he soon nears closer to me, refusing my attempts at keeping us apart, brushing my hair out of my face and nuzzling his head into my neck from behind, placing a single tender kiss before speaking up.

"please talk to me schatz, i'm so sorry." he mutters into the darkness, awaiting my response, yet i refuse to give him one, not moving from my tensed position.

"you said that your body isn't good enough for me." he slowly begins, turning me on my back in one swift motion as he props himself up beside me, one hand holding himself up as the other gently caresses my cheek. the darkness prevents me from making out his features, though i can still distinguish his dark brown eyes staring into mine. "let me show you. let me show you how beautiful you are."

my speechlessness forces me to do nothing but slowly nod my head, my quick acceptance clearly surprising him as he slowly leans downwards until his lips meet mine. the kiss isn't rough or lustful, it is slow and passionate, carrying every unspoken apology as his lips mould perfectly with mine. as much as i still hold back, still reluctant to let him in so easily, i can't hide it. we fit together flawlessly, our physical contact providing me with the certainty of our love. we are attached, not just physically, but spiritually, emotionally, in any way that two people can be bound together.

without breaking the kiss, he slowly crawls on top of me, caressing my face gently, our desire and hunger for each other increasing by the second, the fire only sparking further within me as i fall further into his touch.

"so perfect..." he mutters against my lips, pulling away only to begin gently kissing my neck, sighs of pleasure elicited from my parted lips as he finds my sweet spot, his tongue circling the area whilst my hands travel down his back, finding the hem of his t-shirt as i lift it over his head, his lips capturing mine softly once again. his hands caress my waist, finding my underwear as he loops his fingers around it, pulling it down slowly and throwing it on the floor beside him, doing the same with my t-shirt. my hands fumble with his underwear, pulling it down soon after, leaving our bare bodies pressed against each other, our craving for one another growing with every kiss he leaves against my lips.

he is the sun, and i am the planets orbiting around him. my entire being is his, only being able to function with the reassurance that he is mine, and i am his. every part of me belongs to him, and as i clutch on to him i find myself wondering what I did to deserve him, what i did to find somebody that compliments me so well, no one else providing me with the euphoria that he can.

he parts his lips from mine, staring into my eyes as i find myself in awe of his perfection. his lips are open ever so slightly, the minimal light cast into the room hitting his lips, soft and tempting, directly, the metal ring adorning them knocked to the side as his tongue comes out to rest against it. however my time to admire him is soon brought to a finish as positions himself at my entrance.

"you sure baby?" he asks, eyes scanning my own, searching for any sense of doubt within them. though i am quick to nod my head, muttering a clear 'yes' as my hands grip onto his biceps, studying the way his face changes from caring to lustful the second that his top pushes inside of me. he is slow, sliding into me carefully, though when he bottoms out, he makes sure that every inch of him is inside of me, his own eyes squeezing shut when my walls clenching around him. he starts off slow, maintaining a steady rhythm as i savour every second, holding onto him so tightly as if he could fall out of my grasp. quiet groans fill my ears as he buries his face into my neck, slowly beginning to pick up the pace, inaudible whines escaping my lips, each thrust further fuelling the ecstasy within me.

"fuck…i love you." he mumbles into my neck, planting fast and sloppy kisses anywhere his lips can find, my vision blurring as i am soon overwhelmed with pleasure. he is inside me, his body pressed against me as even the air cannot come between us, yet i long for him to be closer. i know that isn't possible, and god, that hurts to think about.

“right there, oh my god!" i cry out, my legs wrapping around his torso as he delves further into me, hitting the spot where i need him most perfectly, my eyes to rolling to the back of my head, no noise escaping my mouth as i can do nothing but savour this pleasure, knowing that it cannot last forever.

“so pretty baby…shit- so perfect." he whispers, connecting his lips with mine in a sloppy kiss, quickening his pace as i know he is getting closer to his release. his calloused hands gently grab my waist, pushing me into him further as he struggles to kiss back, moaning into my mouth as his pillowy lips hover over mine.

“i'm so close schatz." he mutters against my lips, his rhythm becoming irregular as his hips stutter and i feel him twitch inside me. i sigh in relief, finally letting go of the knot built up in my stomach, mouth falling open as i reach my climax, this enough for tom to come to his own.

“fuck, oh my god…" he groans, throwing his head back as i feel him release inside of me, his breathing becoming heavier. he slowly thrusts in and out of me, muttering inaudible words of praise, riding out our highs before collapsing on top of me, leaving a few lazy kisses on my shoulder. my hands find their way into his hair, gently running through the dark braids whilst his wrap around my waist. the room stays silent for a few seconds, this soon interrupted by tom’s voice, slow and rough.

“i'm sorry for everything. i love you schatz, you know that right?" he says breathlessly, lifting his head from my chest to look into my eyes, any lustful intent within them now fading as they display nothing but pure regret.

“i know. i love you too." i reply, kissing him tiredly on the lips before closing my eyes, close to falling asleep. though i am soon interrupted by tom’s hand over my shoulder, shaking it gently, whilst the other trails to my face, thumb running across the skin comfortingly.

“c’mon, let's clean you up first liebe, then we can sleep." he whispers, smiling weakly when i nod my head lazily, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist, carrying me into the bathroom and turning on the shower, both of us climbing in.

the warm water covers my body, droplets running down it as his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into a tight hug. it is silent, though the quiet is everything but awkward, instead the reassurance that his embrace brings is everything i need, my eyes closing contently as he begins washing my body, occasionally kissing my forehead and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, before lifting me out of the shower and grabbing a fresh t-shirt, placing it over my head and onto my tired frame.

he collapses into bed, opening his arms out as i fall into his embrace, wrapping one arm loosely around his bare torso, tracing random patterns on his chest with my pointer finger, head resting against it so firmly i can hear the steady thumping of his heart, each faint beat somehow soothing me, until i fall into a deep sleep.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[seillarium]

melt my heart and claim it as yours

tl;dr. the classic 5+1 fic for my one and only love

pairings : portgas d. ace x reader

notes : mild angst (?), happy ending, no pronouns used (as far as i know) but written with fem reader in mind, no proofread, lowercase intended, a few profanities, english isn't my first language, overuse of italics lol, PORTGAS D. ACE LIVESSSS

word count : roughly 3.5k words

sincerely, sei : AAAAAARGHHH OMGOMG I FINALLY FINISHED IT ACTUALLY HOLY SH 😭😭 anyway, please lmk if there are grammatical errors, or typos, hopefully i don't fumble this, i think it's not rlly good. but to be fair, i was experimenting 😥

I.

you're a new recruit of the whitebeard pirates, having been rescued from an organization that experiments on people—honestly you didn't think you'd live this long with how things were going with your life.

you were hesitant at first, meekly greeting the members of the seemingly kind pirates around you. as far as you knew, pirates were pictured as barbaric, evil, and cruel. but all that you see are warm people that see each other as family. it left a foreign feeling in your chest, one that you can't seem to decipher.

but you have only one thing in mind: do you belong here?

-

your first day on the moby dick was chaos. good chaos, you convince yourself. you were utterly overwhelmed by the amount of people, and holy fuck, did you just get a thousand siblings in less than a day??

they threw a party, for the new nakama, they said. it was heartwarming to say the least, and a small smile appeared on your face for the first time ever since you were put into that hell.

you try to put your mind into what was happening now, 'stop thinking about that, you have a new life ahead of you.' there were a lot of people introducing themselves, though you can't understand most of them. you were dragged, pushed even, as the dining area was suddenly filled. maybe the term 'barbaric' was fitting for them, after all.

the first to approach you one on one was the first division commander; marco. he had checked if you were doing alright, and all you did was smile and nod—biting your tongue, trying not to mention how you think he looks like a pineapple.

the second would be thatch, he was a tad drunk drunk and his mind is cooked. his flirtatious words were slurred. he called you multiple names, he claimed that your smile is quite fetching. you weren't really affected, he is amusing, though.

a few more approached you, some just greeting briefly, some were inviting you to drink (you didn't, the taste of alcohol is shit anyway), and some just gave you a warm "welcome to the crew!"

they sure are a rowdy bunch, you think, as you were leaning on the railing. then another person approached you. he leaned on the railing next to you, copying your position.

when you finally looked at him, your mind short-circuited for a moment. the mysterious man was certainly attractive. he's topless, that's what stupefied you for a second. not that you never saw any other guy who walks without any shirt—this one just has a nice figure, definitely easy to look at.

"hey there! you're the new recruit, yeah? my name is portgas d. ace, it's nice to meet you."

his voice startled you, whoops, you're staring, how inappropriate. he's bowing politely, and it baffled you for the nth time today because; what is this, a pirate crew whose motto is 'we're different from other pirates'?! you had never met a pirate this polite your whole life. you ought to pinch yourself; maybe this is a silly dream after all.

"hello? earth to you, er.." he waved a hand to your face, only then did you look to his face. great, so you were looking at his open tits first?

"(name). it's nice to meet you." you greeted back with a small smile, and he grinned. oh, he looks so... kind. you felt your heart thump—or did it actually stop?

"(name), huh? what a pretty name for a pretty face." oh, cheeky. he's got a coy grin on his lips now. he's like thatch, then. but he succeeded to make you blush slightly.

"thanks...?" wow, way to go! you honestly didn't know what to reply, given that you were locked up for about 5 years with almost no social interaction with others.

he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he looked pleased at your answer. though, he did seem to notice your uncomfortable shift. he props his elbow to the railing, resting his cheek on his hand. "you're adorable."

and your mind clogged again, face exploding into a deep red as you furrowed your eyebrows, forming a confused expression. he seems sober, and he says it like he means it. the temperature just skyrocketed, must be from how flushed your cheeks are.

he laughed at your expression, and you found yourself liking the carefree sound and his boyish grin. he gazed at your eyes again, slightly pink cheeks and a grin that screams mischief. more compliments spill from his mouth. looks like you're in for an embarrassing night.

-

once the night ended, ace slapped a hand on his mouth, his cheeks flushed—fuck, he's on fire, literally. he was mesmerized by you, thus, the sudden compliment escaped him. he didn't mean to, but with your reaction? oh he wanted more. he honestly thought flirting would be a good way to take your mind off of things, thank god he didn't fumble. such a miracle you didn't notice how his back was on fire the whole time...

II.

weeks had passed since you became a whitebeard pirate. you learned a lot of things. one, you were living under a rock, literally and figuratively. the lab that you were once in was underground. you've been there since you were 15, causing you to lack knowledge about the recent happenings in the outside world.

two, it was hard to keep up and remember each of their names. your overwhelmed brain is turning into mush at this point, thankfully they're kind enough to say their names over and over again for you.

three, ace. that's it, ace. you learned that he's some kind of lost dog. trailing you everywhere you go, not that you're complaining. honestly if he wasn't sticking to you, you'd be sticking to him.

there's this magnetic pull that drags you to him, seems like you couldn't resist his warm nature. like a moth to a flame you were attracted to him. and you feel yourself burn, not in a bad way—like you were succumbing to his very fire and you think you'll be fine as ashes if it meant you'd be closer to him.

but it's like, his fire flickers when you move forward. he let's you near, but never close. it's like you know about him, but you don't know him. like he's keeping you at arm's length.

that does not stop the flirting, though.

"hey, I'm lost, can you give me directions to your heart?"

"if you were a triangle, you'd be acute one."

"aren't you tired? you've been running through my mind all day."

you're becoming a puddle of goo, it just gets embarrassing to the point you can't even form words.

"hey, (name), do you have a pen and a paper?" he suddenly approached you as you were walking around the ship. you shook your head 'no', surprised he's not making moves today.

"damn, no pen, no paper, yet you still draw my attention." he said with a shit-eating grin and a wink. "...."

"wait! (name)!!"

III.

a day alone with ace in a strange island is absolute havoc. you wonder how it's possible for one person to destroy half of a forest. well, to be fair, he is fire.

"are you a dumbass?!" you screeched, running away as fast as you can while a strange lion goes after you both. ace tried to pet it, you almost did too and out of a sudden everything went haywire.

"i didn't know it would be immune to fire!!" he screeched back, holding your wrist and practically dragging you.

"why the hell did you even try and pet a wild lion in the first place?!"

-

you're now sitting by a bonfire, lit by yours truly. you hug your knees to your chest, watching as the fire dances in the air.

the lion incident has passed, finding out it's actually frightened by water. you crossed a river and found a hilltop—which is where you are right now.

"you still cold?" he asked, sitting next beside you.

"kind of," not really, you're not exactly freezing, you just want more. of him, preferably.

he scooted closer, your shoulders touching. and heat immediately seeps through you. and for a moment you just relished his body temperature.

then the next thing you knew, your whole being was enveloped by his warmth. his arms looped on your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. he sent you a smile, and god, everything about him is warm.

"are you a campfire? because you're hot and i want s'more." and just when you though you could sit in peace.

"ace, you're literally the hot one between the two of us." you answered, exasperated to your wits' end. "aww, you think I'm hot?" you didn't know if you want to slap the smirk off his face or bury yourself 6 foor under.

"n-no?! i mean, you are, literally—" his grin widens. "y-you know what i mean!! and I'm cold.."

"think i can make your heart melt?" oh he did. you sighed, does he really mean all of this? you never really gave him replies, not that you could even form words with how your brain turns into a puddle when he throws you the most cheesy ass pick up line ever. where does he even gets all of these?

"Is it chilly out, or is that just the chill you send down my spine every time I see you?" a scoff escaped you. "it's cold right now."

"well, thank god i brought some socks, you're giving me cold feet." he said rather dramatically, his body sagging against yours.

"do you really mean all of this?" you asked out of the blue. is he just messing with you? is he really gonna burn you after all? maybe his flames would just combust your lonely heart to oblivion, then leave it to heave in the remaining smoke.

"of course." he replies almost immediately, his eyes seeking yours. sincerity swam in his dark orbs, a soft yet genuine smile on his lips. oh. maybe he was just trying to cradle you with his warmth, after all.

-

he takes a mental note to take this more seriously. thus, you didn't fail to notice how his lines were a bit more genuine, it still has a hint of playfulness—but everytime he looks into your eyes, it seems as though he's swallowing each emotion in them, fully drowning in you with those obvious lovesick orbs.

IV.

the night was cold, so was your heart. thatch had died, murdered by the hands of his own family. his own nakama. you sat on your bed, blank eyes staring to the window. it was pouring, as if the clouds were affected by the loss. the raindrops fell harder and harder, jut like the pounding in your chest as his death sinks in.

there were sudden knocks on your door. you didn't have to sit up, you knew who it was. "come in.." you croaked, voice breaking slightly.

the door opened and revealed a disheveled ace. he was quiet as he invited himself in, the familiar scent of your room filling his senses. "hey.." he greeted, yet it lacked the familiar warmth he always held. it was replaced by the bitter cold, gnawing at his insides.

"hey, you." despite his state, you felt warm. everytime the pirate comes into view, your heart is immediately filled with fervor. sparks surging through your veins.

ace wordlessly sat down beside you, head hung low and you know why. "I'm going to kill teach." he muttered, his resentment surfacing with each passing second.

"what?" you gaped, and you don't know whether to let him go or not. you weren't sure if the awful pit on your stomach was something worth noting. before you could speak further, his voice cuts into the air. sharp and determined.

"and you can't do anything to stop me." and for the first time ever, he made you cold. unpleasant shivers went down your spine and your heart dropped to the depths of doubt. and before you know it, protests escapes your lips while you shake him. it's unsettling, how you're holding onto him yet he's so cold.

"i don't care if it's dangerous, he killed thatch, he betrayed his own!" he raises his voice, but you can't find it in yourself to even flinch, still seeking that certain fire in his eyes. it's there, it's ignited, but not the kind of flame that you're looking for.

"i just... didn't want to leave without telling you goodbye." he mumbled, voice softening significantly.

"are you saying this will be the last time I'll see you?" you can't ignore it anymore, tears are stinging your eyes.

".... i—" he hesitated, breath hitching. "of course not, I'll come back for you."

for you.

his words rang in your ears, he sounds so genuine yet so full of doubt. and as your gaze on him lingers, all you could see is a lost boy, his judgement crumbling right before your eyes.

"come back alive, okay? I'll wait for you." you told him with such warmth and affection, your hand cupping his cheek.

at that moment, he looks like he'll break, your warmth seeping through his freckled cheek and straight through his heart and soul. it felt so surreal for him, he's made of fire, but it feels as though you were burning him.

"i don't know, it's like you're already killing me here, 'cause you took my breath away."

sigh.

V.

you're on fire.

not literally, but it may as well be with how you can feel the intense determination and fear in your bones. you stood near pops, the tense atmosphere wafting through the thick air in marineford.

ace is there, at the execution grounds—chained, bruised, bloodied, and regretful. you could see him clearly, yet he feels so far away.

and once the war started, you did your best to avoid the attacks sent to you, sprinting straight towards ace. you knew it was futile, the marines surrounding him far too strong compared to you. but you can't stop.

I'm coming for you, ace. the rapid thumping of your heart is all that you could hear, ignoring his desperate pleas of 'don't come here! it's not worth it!'

ace, ace, ace. you repeat his name in your head like a mantra. ace, ace, ACE. you screamed this time, voice breaking.

you legs stopped once you saw the dark hair of a young boy—screaming his lungs as he calls for his dear brogher, along with the intense surge of his haki. you weren't weakened by it, but you felt a sense of relief as he ran through the sea of marines ready to take his life.

instead of heading to ace, you sprinted to the boy—luffy, you assumed based on the countless stories from his brother. you helped fight off anyone in his way, putting all your trust in him.

you watch as he somehow freed ace. in awe as they fought alongside together, having perfect harmony.

you could only watch as he finally ran, straight to were you and the others were. and you felt so light seeing him, alive and well.

yet, you could only watch, as he was provoked by admiral akainu. you could only scream at him to stop, to just let it go. but of course you knew it was pointless. he's ace, he'll never let anyone dare to throw dirt on the name of his savior. he wouldn't let anyone insult the man who kindly called him as his son.

and thus, you could only watch as magma seeped through his chest. the ring in your ears eating up all your sanity, you couldn't even hear nor feel as the others dragged you away—unaware that you were running to him again.

you only watched as he whispered words to his brother, hugging him helplessly.

then everything became a blur.

VI.

the morning birds chirped, or was it the seagulls handing out the newspapers? nonetheless, the light from the window indicates that a new day is starting.

a new day, as you sat next to ace's bed. you never left his ever since you woke up. his organs were ruined, and you wonder how marco and the others had healed him.

but you didn't care about how. all you could ever care about is ace. he's alive. still, he's yet to wake up.

it's been a week, the familiar routine of sitting next to his bed was slowly embedding in your mind. you want nothing more than to see his eyes again, to see that bright smile that makes you think that the sun was nothing but an irrelevant orb up in the sky.

his chest was filled with bandages—another reminder of an ugly memory. you stared at him solemnly, fingers tracing his freckled cheeks.

then he stirred, and you flinched. your mind went blank. the gears in your head only turned once he gazed at you with those pretty eyes—effectively pulling you into the depths of your emotions.

"why are you crying?" were his first words, his voice was strained, his throat dry. only then did you realize everything was blurry.

"y-you—!" clutching his arm almost desperately, you found yourself crumbling in front of him. "you said you'd come back alive!"

"but i am alive." he said matter-of-factly.

"what if you died?!" honestly, you didn't know nor cared if you were making a point. all you did was sob his name over and over again, you arms coming up to wrap around his neck. crying as the man stroked your unkempt hair.

"...is this real?" he then asked, and the doubtful tone you once heard was at it again. you looked into his eyes, witnessing a broken man who looked as though he couldn't believe what has happened. "I'm actually alive?"

"of course you are! you're here, ace. you're fine." you said, partly to yourself, but mainly to him who looks like he'll break you with how he's holding you.

"you're alive. thank god you're alive, ace." and he cries. he cries and sobs and you don't know what else to do but to hold him.

"do i deserve to live? do i really deserve to survive?" and you felt your own tears falling. he sounds so broken, so lost, so doubtful.

you didn't question why he was asking that, rather, you cupped his cheeks and stared lovingly in his eyes.

"you do, ace." was all you have to say. was all he needed to hear. it won't be easy to remove those thoughts, no. but for now, it was enough.

"yeah?" he sniffled, a lopsided grin on his lips. you kissed his tears away, as he closed his eyes in bliss.

"yeah."

he grinned from ear to ear, and you returned it. and you both sat there, just giggling to each other.

"can i borrow your sunglasses? i can't stare at you too much 'cuz you're hotter than the sun." instead of laughing or blushing like you always do, your eyes softened.

"really? your eyes must be weak then. i can stare at you for hours." and before he could even so much as react, you continued.

"you know, you're like the sun. so bright, so warm. and every time i see you, i don't know whether i should bask in you or to hide because you burn me. god, you set my heart on fire, ace. and i don't care if i turn into ashes as long as i can be beside you all the time." you finished, staring at him like a lovesick fool.

he was out of words, his face exploding in a bright red and you wondered how much restraint he has right now to not burst into flames on the spot. he gaped at you as you stared at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

"i love you." he muttered. now you were the one rendered speechless. no words can express how he makes you feel. and you all but grinned, giddy and drunk off of the feeling of his love.

"i love you too." and before you two could lean in and share that sweet sweet kiss, the door opened and you saw the half of the crew falling down from their pile. looks like they've been eavesdropping.

and they didn't even had any shame as they cheered, chanting 'kiss, kiss, kiss!' loud screams of jovial voices filled the cabin once you two actually did.

familiar warmth seeped through your body and cradled your heart. and you had an epiphany at that moment: you belong here, right at this very moment, forever and more.

ps. : NAHHH CAN YALL TELL I GOT LAZY AT THE END im sorry it took so long i procrastinated for like 2 days 🙏 thank you for reading!!

taglist : @captainportgasdace @malxoxo (there's so many of yall who liked my previous post, my lazy ass could never, i might tag yall later tho if i get my energy back <33)

[superbat-lmao]

Damian Wayne stuck in a time loop.

It resets when someone dies, and since Damian is the youngest, it doesn’t matter how rocky his relationship is with the bat-siblings, each and everyone one of them sacrifices themselves for him.

And Damian is pissed off because he doesn’t understand why.

Grayson is obvious, he has made it clear that he feels affection for Damian and has made the most effort into integrating him into the family. Of course he would die for his little brother. And at first, Damian believes he finds this outcome to be the least acceptable.

There is also his Father, again, a logical expression of love. Damian can understand why his Father would die for him, even if he doesn’t want him to. Even if, in the first few loops, he wishes that anyone else would die instead. At least it’s a type of parental relationship he can understand in the abstract, even if it surprises him to see its true about himself. That even though he has several older brothers and is unsure of his place by his Father’s side, the man would do anything to protect him. It reminds him of his Mother, even though he’s sure if she were here she’d find a way for the both of them to live.

Brown is the first one to surprise him. They had worked together when Grayson was Batman and he recognized her competence, but he thought that’s all it was. A working relationship between professionals. A mutal, if grudging respect. He is shocked when she dies, how he had no clue she would go that far for him. How he refuses to let it happen again.

If Brown was a surprise, Cain was a shock. Damian thought of her as nigh invincible, unable to be touched. It was clear she was the best of all of them, that she had seen the hit miles ahead of him, had maybe even seen him brace for it. But she had chosen to let herself go down. He feels every bit his age as he begins to wonder if he’s even more powerless to stop this than he thought if his most competent sister chose to let herself fall.

Thomas was confusing. He was new, newer than Damian and not quite sure of himself. They rarely saw each other aside from school due to the mismatch in schedules. Thomas gave him a wide berth, respecting Damian’s space in a way his other siblings failed to do or intentionally disregarded. Damian didn’t think much of him. Couldn’t understand how Thomas hadn’t even paused, had taken the hit as if it was an unquestionable law of the universe. As if they were really brothers and not strangers. It was a sentiment Damian didn’t know how to return.

Todd was the worst. He had seen him, briefly, before he had come to Gotham from the league. His Mother spoke of him rarely, but with pride. He was skilled, if untamed. He avoided the manor and his brothers and their Father. The only one he usually sought was Pennyworth. That is why Todd was the worst. Because he avoided all of them. Because this family had already allowed him to die before and he had come back wrong. A painful reminder that their family has failed. And he fought so hard to remind them all of that failure, every way he chose to keep fighting to live, to prioritize his own life over their Father’s morality. Only to throw it away for Damian. To force him to watch how his brother’s second death shattered their Father and Pennyworth and Grayson in a way that Damian didn’t think they’d survive a second time.

Drake is incomprehensible. Antithetical. A cosmic error. Impossible. There is no love between them, no grudging respect, nothing. Damian can’t stand to look at the person who he feels is a disgrace to the costume Damian now wears. He is the one who dies for Damian the most. The one he can’t possibly understand. The brother he has the least time to question, who gives him the least answers as to his motivations. Who will both die for Damian and refuse to utter a word to him in the same loop. It is madness. Damian needs to prove himself above this embarrassment, and yet Drake chooses to be beneath him. To die for him. It is in spite of Damian’s skill that Drake dies, and Damian hates him for it.

[translatemunson]

file 002 — brand new bar, same old problems

chapter two of death defying acts

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: MDNI thank you, fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie, yes don't kill me but reader has a fling with another aviator won't say who, implied smut.

If surviving Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the Dagger Squad would be required for you to be sent overseas, you were not sure there was gonna be a lot of you left to fit in a plane seat.

In just two days and one quick chat with Maverick, you had to recognize there was no easy task in front of you. Maverick didn’t show any enthusiasm in your work or questions on that quick meeting, which was somewhat discouraging. You had been spending your morning reviewing previous logs of all of the fighter pilots, your afternoons watching them live on radar, taking notes of their data, style and skills, your evenings analyzing all of your notes and coming up with plans for the simulation.

You were in bed way past your normal schedule on Saturday morning. Your belongings would definitely sit on boxes for another week or two if you didn’t do anything regarding it. You had the essentials out — uniforms, underwear, laptop, hygiene products, and a picture of you with your parents —, but that was it. Even your kitchen was getting appliances as you started to need them.

You grabbed a clean change of clothes, your bag and headed out to do groceries and get your mind out of work. There were a lot of things to get done before you were back to base on Monday: firstly you needed some real food in your fridge, including new tea blends and pasta for when you’re too tired to cook anything that takes longer than 20 minutes. Then you had to pick up more pills for your headache. Maybe some flowers for your living room would make the place livable — and also push you to unpack a few boxes with your books and portraits.

Also you had to call your parents and brief them on your first days. Well, maybe that was easier said than done: while you couldn’t share much details about what you were doing, you knew they were ready to pull some interrogation tactics or whatever to get all the intel. Your father was the one helping you with the moving — because he was free in between flight classes —, but your mom was the one texting people to know why now they wanted to transfer you to San Diego.

Once the call sign Maverick was brought to the table, your father did all he could to get you another opening somewhere else. And as soon as you got the bigger picture of why you were being moved to work with Maverick and his team, the puzzle made sense. Even though they were successful on their mission, they had one more challenge ahead, and there was no margin for errors or close calls for this one — you were gonna receive more information about it after the first few weeks.

Maverick and the Dagger Squad were definitely a lot to deal with. Excellent pilots, an amazing sense of a team — maybe almost being killed does this to a group —, but you could see some flaws slipping through the cracks of their personalities. Maverick still hated authority and being told to follow orders. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin — not Bagman, unfortunately — could be a team player only if that benefited him, otherwise his wingman was the first to go down during training. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace was an excellent pilot, and Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd as her WSO was a great combo, but if paired with someone else, it was a hit or miss — you asked to change pairings on Friday morning, just to check if there was margin for new combos. Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch and his WSO, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, were also a great combo, but they needed a strong flight leader to shine and succeed. Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado was a good pilot, but only on good days — and that was something you couldn’t risk on a mission. And Bradshaw was living for his call sign Rooster, even though he had amazing decision making skills, he was always waiting for the last second to make a move. And that, in the field, meant death.

And those were just a few observations you could get from a few hours in front of the radars and live data from their training exercises. 

You went through your shopping list in no time, stopping for headache meds and some flowers just after you got lunch. Back at your one bedroom apartment, you, once again, found an excuse to avoid a Facetime call with your parents, but you made sure to text them some pictures of your progress — and thank your dad for finding a good place for you to stay, a 20 minutes drive from the base, and also in a walking distance of the Golden Hill Park.

Clothes on drawers and hangers, cutlery in the right places, uniforms in the washer, books in the shelves. You were slowly bringing together the sense of home to San Diego. Your last few weeks in Nevada were crazy: you were back from one deployment in the Pacific just to be called for another quick job in Alaska. Thankfully your dad had a few weeks off to go to Nevada and help you pack, driving all your stuff three days before your arrival and saying he would take care of housing. All you had to do was sign a few papers, pack the stuff you could send ahead and get ready for a quick stop up north.

The sun was setting when you realized you were almost done with things. Maybe you should let some for Sunday, so you could also keep your mind off of work. You got up from your bedroom floor, took a long shower and checked your messages.

On Friday, you were able to catch up with Bob over lunch, asking him about his journey after training. You also got close to Phoenix, kinda relieved she was just as nice as you remembered. You got their numbers, they got yours, and that’s how you end up with an invite to join them at a bar called Hard Deck in an hour. If you were gonna be around for at least ten weeks, you might as well do something else besides working.

 So you went through your clothes, searching for a black top, some jeans and a jacket for when it got chiller from the autumn air. Just some casual clothes to share a few beers and a few more stories. Still getting used to San Diego streets and skyline, you drove like you weren’t in no rush to get to the bar, appreciating the change of scenery from the desert to the beachside.

You parked outside the Hard Deck just a few minutes late. For a Saturday evening, the place was pretty packed, and you could see some clients were proud to walk around in their work khakis — something you avoided as much as you could. After all, you were just a few minutes away from the station. Texting Bob back to ask him if they were already there, you didn’t even hit send before you were able to pick your new colleagues amidst the crowd.

Nat was holding a pool cue on the side of her body, explaining something to Mickey and Bob. Hangman and Coyote were trying to impress some ladies on the darts board — and you were very sorry for those two poor souls, if they knew everything you’ve been hearing while on duty. You stopped by the bar, getting yourself some bar soda and starting a tab.

“You’re sure I can’t fix you anything else?” The lady behind the bar asked you.

“I’m good for now.” And then you turned to your colleagues and thought better, “Do you happen to remember what they’re getting?” You pointed to them.

“Sure thing, they’re just having beers. Are you friends with the Daggers?”

“Not exactly,” you watched her grab six bottles, serve some ice in the bucket and hand it to you. “I was relocated here to work with them. I know Bob and Phoenix from previous training, but that’s about it.”

“Oh, so you’re part of Maverick’s team?” She definitely knew them, not just because they would be spending their down time on Hard Deck.

“I’m part of the Intelligence Team working with them.” It didn’t get easier every time you talked about it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Penny, honey. Well, let me know once you decide to try something else.”

“Thank you, Penny.”

You took the drinks with you to the high top table just on the side of their pool table. Your upbeat spirit died down as soon as you realized Bradshaw was there. After being lectured about Maverick and Goose, Bradley’s father, you weren’t looking forward to tolerating him outside of work. His short temper and slow decision making was something that got on your nerves easily. But you should’ve expected this, since he’s a long time friend with Nat.

“Look who’s out of that desk, guys.” And unfortunately, Hangman was the one to announce your presence. “I thought you were the type to wear your uniform everywhere since you’re a goody-two-shoes, Hyde.”

“Unlike you, Seresin, I have a life and personality outside of base.” You pointed to his khakis. “And don’t worry, I’m not writing down your lack of hobbies, outside women and pissing others off of course. I could already tell that based on your flight maneuvers.”

“Looking forward to reading the file you’re writing about me.” He reached for a beer, and you rolled your eyes. “Thanks, honey.”

“I’ll be surprised if you can actually read,” you bit back. “But I’m not here to work. And these beers are a peace offering. I’m not the enemy.”

“So you just like to point out our weaknesses for fun.” Mickey approached you, but you could tell it was more of a lighthearted comment than a critique. “Thanks, Hyde.”

“Thank me next week when you ace the mission simulation.”

You passed them their beers. There was only one left, but since Bradley was more concerned with his pool game than a beer, you moved the bucket aside and turned to Bob, asking “Is this every Navy favorite place to go?”

“Kinda. It’s close to base, and the service is nice and fairly priced.” Bob looked at his water. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived this week. My father helped me move, but I had zero time to wander around.” But who’s fault was that? Definitely yours. “They are a tough crowd, I fear.”

“Don’t worry, they eventually warm up to strangers,” he explained. “We’re still fresh from last mission, and fresh blood always disturbs a little of a group’s balance.”

“I guess I would know that if I worked closely with fighter pilots,” you confessed. “Most of my missions consist of assisting with data and probabilities when tracing plans and assessing risks. Sometimes I don’t even know who is receiving my reports.”

“But you’ve been training with pilots, right?”

“No real missions, just simulations, mostly with graduates from Top Gun back in Fallon.” This job could be the perfect blend of what you’re good at and your passion, but even though you had extensive training with Air missions, you were stuck with assessing risks for admirals and captains to take charge. “It’s my first real chance to be on a mission where I’m able to build a relationship with the people I’m working with, not just being briefed on the mission and its goals.”

“I see. Yeah, I believe you’re gonna do a great job, not just because I know you, but because there’s still room for improvement and you’re gonna be the key for it.” Bob tried to cheer you up, and even though you wanted to believe his words, the first few days were tough on you.

“Thanks, Bob. But I’ve meant it when I said I’m not here to work,” you laughed, leaving the pressure of your relocation for another time.

“So you better start sharpening your pool skills, Hyde.” Natasha passed you her pool cue and smiled. “Do you even play it?”

“Who do you think I am, Phoenix?” You gasped, as if her words were the biggest betrayal you ever faced. “It’s been a minute since I last played, tho.”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to be good at everything you do, you know.” She joked. “Ok, cutthroat rules. You, me and Rooster.” 

She reseted the table as she explained how it was going to work: she was protecting balls 1 to 5, you were in charge with 6 to 10, Rooster had 11 to 15 to himself. The goal was to pocket any opponent's balls while protecting yours. If a foul occurred, the other players had the right to place a ball back at the table.

Natasha breaks, and one of hers was pocketed right away. On her shot, she aimed for the 7-ball, but it lacked strength to send your ball to the pocket. You took a look at the table, spotting a chance to pocket the 12-ball. You walked to the other side, passing just inches away from Bradshaw, and sending his ball to the pocket. He looked unimpressed when you checked for his reaction. You tried to get one of Nat ball’s, but you picked the wrong angle.

Bradshaw fixed his sunglasses on the neck of shirt, assessed the table and went for the 8-ball. Everyone was tied on losses. He sent the 1 straight to the pocket. His third shot scratched the 6-ball and moved it to a dangerous spot, and you held your breath.

“Don’t worry, I’m on your side,” Natasha aimed for the 15-ball and sent it straight to the corner pocket. But it was still a risky position for your 6-ball, and you watched when she pocketed that one as well. “I mean, I took one of his first, which makes us even, right?”

“That’s not what I’ve learned on Math 101, but ok.” You shook your head. “What are you gonna do next?”

“I’m gonna,” she elongated her words, “maybe this one,” she pointed to the 5-ball, “or a small challenge with the 14.” She positioned herself, and missed the latter for a lot. “Your shot, Hyde.”

You sent the 14-ball straight into the pocket, then missed your shot. Bradley took the 3-ball out, followed by the 10, and missed the 7. Nat got the 9-ball, then missed. You tunnel vision on the 13, in the middle of the table, with a huge chance of error. The white ball hit all the wrong corners and you miss it. And it got the white one on the perfect spot to send your last ball to the pocket.

“It was nice playing with you, fellas.” You turned over your cue and crossed your arms, destiny sealed since Bradshaw was a way better player than you. You watched the 7-ball disappear inside the pocket. 

“Wait, Hyde, someone could get a foul, and you can come back,” Nat tried to pull you back to the table.

“I’m good with my loss, don’t worry. I’m not leaving, just wanna get something from the bar.” You took the now empty bucket — did Bradshaw get his beer or someone stole it? — to the bar and returned it to Penny.

“How is it going?” She smiled and motioned her head to the group.

“Could be worse. Can I have a tequila shot?”

“Sure, honey.” Penny checked something under the bar. “Is house tequila ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Can you get me one water and two more beers as well?”

“Coming right up.”

You took your phone of your pocket, and checked your messages: you were setting the family group chat aside for tomorrow morning; Lisa, your roommate from Fallon, was sharing updates on the gossip you were missing — not even three days and they didn’t failed to surprise you — while in San Diego; Ashton, still unaware of your transference, was asking if you were free. Yeah, things would never change.

“Here.” She laid your order on the counter. “I know you’re an Officer, but do you happen to have a call sign?”

“It’s more common to hear people calling me by it than my own name,” you shared, and she laughed. “It’s Hyde, a character from a gothic novel.”

“Oh, I believe I’ve read this book in high school.” She pressed her lips together and stared at you, like she was trying to put the pieces together. “Do you need some lime and salt for the shot?”

“No, not really.” Maybe not a smart idea since you’re driving, but that was the Hyde in you: nice face, good manners, but short tempered and always down to some trouble. “Thanks, Penny.”

You balanced your shot and the water in one hand, held the two beers in the other and moved carefully between the crowd to your friends. Back to the pool table, you watched Rooster send Nat’s last ball to the pocket.

“Oh no! And I thought you were each other's lucky charm,” you pointed out between her and Bob. You sat by her WSO’s side and passed him a water. “Or do you want a beer?”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” he offered you some nuts, and you gladly took a few.

“Here, a consolation prize for you.” You slid a beer for Nat as soon as she joined the table. You looked over her shoulder, seeing Bradshaw walking to the piano. “Is he always like that?”

You looked over your shoulder to Bradshaw. He carried a lot of resemblances to his parents — you could tell after hours looking through your parents’ photos, and seeing Goose and Carole in a few, with a kid Bradley closer. This was way before you were transferred to San Diego or decided to join the Navy.

You thought Bradshaw was just like you, until your father told you what happened to him. Father died after a failed ejection, his mom died of cancer, Maverick pulled his papers and set him back. You felt sorry about it, but if he was raised by Pete Mitchell after all of that, you were expecting to meet the younger version of the captain.

“Give him some time, Rooster is not much of a fan of changes,” she explained.

“As long as this doesn’t interfere with my job, I’m ok with not being friends with everyone.” You drank the tequila shot without making an ugly face, and quickly moved to your beer.

“Do you happen to know anything about our next mission?” Nat asked.

“I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark as you,” you shook your shoulders. “I know about the uranium mission though, which was pretty dangerous. I would’ve done a thing or two differently.”

“What exactly?”

“I mean, they could’ve timed the missiles to hit a few SAMs as you were leaving the valley, and make your way out of there smoother.” They were already flying a dangerous zone on less powerful planes, and exposed the hell of their jets, so not having at least a few bombs to help out was a little dumb.

“You’re kinda right,” Bob threw another nut inside his mouth. “Do you think they considered it?”

“Nah, I bet 20 bucks Admiral Simpson was looking for an opportunity to get rid of Maverick.” You took a sip of your beer.

“That’s cruel. But hey, if you have the chance to make our mission less dangerous, you have my approval.” Nat smiled.

“I’ll remember that.”

“Hey, have you always been part of Intelligence?”

You and Bob shared a look. “No, I joined the Navy after graduating from college. My parents are from the Navy, and they gave me the chance to choose. So education, then enlisting. My records say I graduated from Flight School because I completed the training successfully, but I got in an accident during the last week. Then, because of my college degree, they gave me a spot as part of the Intelligence, and I liked it there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your accident. I bet you miss being in the sky sometimes.”

“Thanks, Nat. My dad is a flight instructor nowadays, and everytime we’re in the same base, he finds a way to let me fly for a few minutes.”

“So you’ve been keeping your flight skills in check? Why don’t you apply to Top Gun?” Bob inquired.

“I really don’t see myself doing what you guys do on a daily basis,” another sip, waiting for them to be convinced. You were way past that Top Gun chance now, anyway.

“A pretty thing like you fits better as a Top Gun pilot's wife,” Hangman came up to the table, a beer in hand.

“I rather crawl naked over hot tarmac than date an aviator, Bagman.” Maybe if the aviator wasn’t part of your team, but just maybe. “You guys are just trouble. Can’t keep your missiles in your pants, and flee as soon as possible.”

“You’re funny, Hyde,” he pointed his beer’s neck at you.

“Don’t let it fool you, Hangman, they don’t call her Hyde for nothing,” Bob warned him.

“Don’t have a lot of Jekyll going on, hun?”

“Oh god, you’re insufferable,” Nat exited the table as fast as she could.

“No wonder those girls left you hanging on the darts,” it was kinda undeniable that there was some tension in the air.

“If you’d excuse me, I think it’s the perfect time to call my girlfriend.” And Bobby was smart to take his cue to leave you two alone. He motioned to his phone, and you noticed the picture on the wallpaper: the WSO with his arms around a beautiful girl. But she didn’t look like anyone you’ve seen around at base so far.

“Needs babysitting, Bob?” Hangman teased.

“Should I remind you who fell for the feral koalas story, Seresin?” Bob biting back? That was a first for you.

You looked between the two men, intrigued.

“Go talk about pandas or whatever, Floyd.” Jake waved his hand.

“See you later, Hyde.” Bob walks to the external deck, phone in his ear.

“What did he mean with feral koalas?” You inquired.

“His lady is Australian, and one time she told us about how koalas got a disease and were attacking people, and she sounded very scared.”

“And you believed it?”

“I mean, there was a lady in distress!”

“Jeez, we should legally change your call sign to Himbo.”

“Him-what?”

You laughed and stared at Jake, “I’m dead serious about not dating aviators, tho.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

One thing led to another. Coyote left the bar with a girl on his side, Hangman was left without a ride. You offered to drive him there, since it was on your way home, but you were none the wiser after a tough week and a few tequila shots.

When the sun started to peak over the waves, you were far away from Jake’s bed and still very much sure of your promise. You were in San Diego with one goal and one goal only: earn that promotion. And nothing or anyone was stepping into your way.

a/n: hello aviators! first of all, thank you SO MUCH for the support on the first chapter. yes, i wrote what i wrote and i don't regret it (hyde hooking up with hangman, but it was mostly implied so don't worry, it's almost like it didn't happened haha). also even tho we know who the daggers are, hyde is still getting to know them, i couldn't pass on a hard deck introduction scene (top gun: maverick movie style!). well, let me know what you guys think about this chapter, don't forget to reblog, vote and comment! see ya soon!