#good thing my folks are coming to see me tomorrow

[dicenete]

I had a mentally rough week, so I rewarded myself with drawing little blushing Keith. :) Maybe he is respectfully looking at MC? Maybe. I still need to ramble about this guy. But it will have to be later. IkePri Tag Team: @scummy-writes @goustmilk @solacedeer @m-mmiy @mxrmaid-poet

@pawnkyyy @ludivineikewolf @violettduchess @floydsteeth @wistfulwanderingone

@sh0jun @lorei-writes

[lightsoutletsgo]

welcome home — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (occasional allusions to reader being thick and a little chubby but mostly non-descriptive of body!)

word count: 4.5k

warnings: (hold onto your hats folks, it’s a long list 🧍‍♀️) SMUT!! porn with very little plot, don’t be silly, wrap your willy! creampie, breeding kink, allusions to oscar being bi, use of sex toys, light degrading (slut, whore), a hint of overstimulation, spanking (ass and thighs),  mentions of reader making a HECKIN lot of mess, oscar catches reader and watches her without her knowing!!

hi loves! this is the fic I wrote last night after the tequila hit and when I read it this morning to proof read it I was like 'wtf did I write?' 😭 I was debating if I should add the whole making out with the toy right there situation but my lovely beta reader @softieekayy said it was perfectly ✨spicy✨ so it has stayed in! as always, read at your own risk. please DO NOT read if you are not 18+! happy reading! mimi 🤍

God you hated triple headers. Okay that was an exaggeration, you loved the excitement of watching your boyfriend do his thing from the other side of the world but what you hated was the fact you didn’t get any of his… attention for a couple of weeks.

At first the big orange dildo had been a joke. One of your friends had bought it for you when she learned of your relationship with Oscar, “for those weekends you’re alone.” She had said. You had laughed at the bright papaya colour and brushed the whole thing off, denying you would ever need a use for it. But now as the box it sat in stared up at you from the bottom of your wardrobe, you felt a thrill rush down your spine, pussy clenching involuntarily at the thought of being filled up after so long. You leaned against the wardrobe door, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before slamming it shut and storming back across the room to the bed, throwing yourself into the plush comforter and pillows to let out a yell. You rolled onto your back and sighed. No. You would just wait for Oscar to come home. You could handle a few more days, right? Closing your eyes, you turned your head into Oscar’s pillow and inhaled deeply, moaning at the way his scent invaded your nostrils. God you needed him. You shook your head to clear the thoughts away and focused on sleeping. The faster you slept the sooner tomorrow would come right? Which meant the sooner Oscar would be home. 

You gasped as you felt fingers digging into your thighs and your eyes flew open to see Oscar between your legs, his eyes staring back at yours, hazy with lust as he sucked and nibbled on your clit before dipping his tongue into your cunt to get a taste of your sweetness. Your hands flew to his hair as your back arched. You had no clue where your clothes had gone but you didn’t care, too caught up in the way Oscar wrapped his lips around your clit and shook his head side to side. A shriek left your mouth and your legs closed quickly before he spanked your inner thighs and pushed them open, “Taste so good angel…” Your head dropped back onto the pillow as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Bucking your hips up you tugged at Oscar’s hair and he let out a growl into your pussy, the vibrations doing nothing but heighten the sensation building in your lower stomach. “O-Oscar…” He smirked up at you, “Yes angel?” “Gonna cum!” You squeaked out at his unrelenting movements, “Then cum for me angel, make a mess all over my face hmm?”

Your eyes snapped open and you jolted upright. It had been a fucking dream? You groaned and led back down, a hand coming up to feel how warm your face was. But it felt so real? You whimpered and squeezed your legs together, already able to feel how much you’d dripped everywhere and soaked your panties. You bit your lip, sliding a hand down between your breasts and stomach, feeling the way your breath caught in your throat the closer you got to your thighs. Sliding your panties off underneath your - well, Oscar’s shirt - you gasped as you realised just how soaked they were and how much of your slick had coated your inner thighs. Sliding your hand down you moaned as you began to rut your pussy against your hand, already turning feral with need. You let out a loud groan and huffed.

Standing up and walking over the wardrobe before grabbing that darn box. Unpacking the dildo and quickly washing it off under the bathroom sink you slid back into bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. You stared at the toy in your hand for a moment, it was just a little over average size, more girth than length, and you couldn’t help but shiver when you realised it was a similar size and shape to your boyfriend. You noted how it had been moulded with a few veins here and there for texture and your mouth watered at the thought it conjured up, of Oscar's cock on your tongue and the way he would groan when your tongue traced the veins on his length.

Lying back down and pulling Oscar’s t-shirt up to halfway up your tummy, you gently dragged the dildo up your inner thighs, enjoying the way you felt your pussy leak onto the sheets. You decided quickly that you’d had enough of teasing yourself and so you moved the toy up to your burning core. 

The toy was cold as it rubbed up and down your lips and you bit your lip, relishing in the tingling sensation everytime it caught your clit. You briefly wondered if you needed lube, but with how much you were dripping you figured you could get some later if you needed it. You dipped the tip of the toy into your entrance and your breath shuddered, “Fuck…” A moan came out involuntarily as you sank the toy into your waiting pussy a little further, relishing in the way it stretched you out so deliciously. “Mmm… Oscar…” You couldn’t help the way your boyfriend’s name slipped from your lips as the toy slid into you more, the textured veins on the toy exciting all those spots inside of you. You let out a satisfied sigh when the toy was pushed into you to the hilt and you gave yourself a moment to enjoy the full feeling it offered, before you were pulling it back out to the tip, mouth dropping open as it dragged against your walls, the silicone quickly warming up to your body temperature. 

You started off slow and gentle, shallow little thrusts that had you whimpering and whining as you fucked yourself the way you knew Oscar would. The hand not using the toy flew up to pull your t-shirt up even more to expose your tits and pinch your nipple. You hummed happily, enjoying the feeling but it was quickly proving to not be enough. You spread your legs wider and began to move the toy with a little more force at a faster speed. Your moans grew a little louder, mixing with the slick wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your hand slid down from where it pinched and pulled your nipples to gently rub your clit. You felt the way you clamped down around the toy and how it made it a little harder to thrust and you smiled, knowing that feeling was something that drove Oscar wild.

At the thought of your boyfriend you let out a rather lewd sound, moving your hips up to meet your hand as you started pounding your cunt with the toy. You were drunk on the feeling, moaning like a pornstar, rubbing your clit faster. You could feel your juices all over your hand and you could hear the way you were creaming all over the toy. 

But what pushed you over the edge was turning your head into Oscar’s pillow once more, inhaling and drowning in him as you came. Clenching down tightly onto the toy as your back arched and your legs shook. Practically crying out Oscar’s name, you almost growled with frustration as your hand didn’t stop, despite how tired you were, still needing more. 

You let out a whimper as your hand cramped and you knew you needed to change positions. Slipping the toy out your eyes widened as you saw exactly how much of a mess you had made all over it. You pushed yourself over onto all fours and buried your face into Oscar’s pillow, moving your hand underneath your stomach and pushing the toy back into you as you fucked yourself face down ass up.

The toy easily slid back into your eager hole and you moaned at the feeling. You didn’t hesitate with teasing yourself this time, instead fucking yourself hard straightaway, a deep moan leaving your mouth as your eyes rolled back. From this new angle, the toy reached even deeper and you needed more of it. You continued railing yourself, moaning and whining Oscar’s name with everything you had in you. 

Oscar sighed with relief, feeling all the tension and stress leave his body as the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment complex. Climbing out with his bags, he thanked the driver and headed up to your shared apartment. He knew it was the early hours of the morning and you would still be asleep but if he could be quiet enough then maybe he could surprise you in the morning with his arms wrapped around you. God he’d missed you. As he reached the doorway of your apartment his stomach flipped with excitement and he didn’t think he’d ever unlocked the door or put his bags down so quickly, desperate to have you in his arms again. But when he got to your bedroom door he stopped. Oscar’s hand hovered over the bedroom door handle as he listened to the noises drifting through from the other side. Were you moaning? He heard the noise again and he didn’t have to strain his ears to pick up the slick wet sounds of you playing with your pussy. He gulped, unsure of what to do. Did he go in and risk you feeling upset and cornered? Or did he deprive you of what you so clearly wanted? Oscar’s head tipped back in a silent groan as another whimpery moan slipped through the door. He opened the door and hsi mouth dropped open at the sight. He’d expected to maybe see you on your back with a hand down your panties but what was in front of him was much more lewd than that. There you were, your ass up in the air jiggling deliciously as you pounded a toy in and out of you, a toy that was the same colour as his car? Oscar growled low in his throat and started to take a step towards you but what stopped him in his tracks was the sight he saw when he got closer to you, noticing how you actually had his t-shirt in your other hand and you had it held up to your face as your eyes rolled back and you drooled everywhere. A louder groan tore from his throat and you shrieked at the intrusion, toy dropping out of your pussy, allowing him to see your pretty hole fluttering and clenching for a moment before you were sat on the bed and staring at him with wide eyes, his t-shirt held up over your body in an attempt to cover yourself. “Oscar!” “Hi angel…” Everything was still and silent before he was on you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him as he kissed you. You moaned into his mouth, dropping his t-shirt to instead grab at his hair. Oscar growled before he pulled away from you, 

“Put that toy back inside you, right fucking now.” “What?-” “You heard me angel and I’m not in the mood to play games right now…” Oscar’s eyes were dark and you felt your thighs squeeze together as your hand searched the bed for where you’d thrown the toy in your surprise. You found it and led back on the bed, slowly spreading your legs to let him see your pussy lips and inner thighs glistening with your juices. He hissed and licked his lips at the sight of the creamy mess that had gathered at your entrance. “Go on then… put it back in angel.” Your eyes shot up to look at his, “A-are you sure?” He spanked your inner thigh sharply, “Did I stutter?” You shook your head and slid the toy back inside you, gasping. Oscar sucked in a breath through his teeth and slid his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you. You whined and bucked your hips up. He laughed and repeated the motion, enjoying the way you were already gasping underneath him. “Feel good baby?” You nodded and gasped as he led down on his stomach so his face was level with your cunt. You did you best to close your thighs but a sharp look from him had you opening them up once again. Oscar licked his lips and you felt his hand cover yours at the base of the toy. You removed your hand and whimpered as he started fucking you himself. God this was so hot. You didn’t think it could get any better and then you felt his tongue on your clit. 

Just like in your dream your hands flew to his hair as you were catapulted straight into the buildup for another orgasm. Oscar let out an appreciative moan as he tasted you for the first time. If he was phased by the fact he was effectively licking a fake cock at the same time he was licking your pussy, he didn’t show it, if anything it seemed to make him more enthusiastic, occasionally pulling the toy out completely to lick up the mess at your entrance and then licking and sucking the tip of the toy to taste your sweet arousal from the deepest parts of your pussy. The sight had you moaning and squirming and he fucking noticed… Perhaps the two of you needed to have a conversation at some point…

You were pulled from your thoughts by Oscar taking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive button. Your hips rocked back and forth against the toy as you rode his face, “Mmph, fuck yes angel,” Oscar murmured against your clit, feeling how your pussy had tightened around the toy as he struggled to pull it out,. His tongue swirled around your clit, his drool spilling down your pussy and onto the toy making it even more slippery as he thrust it in and out of you. Your hands tangled in his hair as you felt yourself get close, “Baby!” You warned him, Oscar just hummed, your clit still in his mouth and you grabbed at his hair and his shoulders, his hands, anything you could as you tumbled over the edge, back arching and toes curling. You moaned and whimpered as you came, Oscar pressing soft kisses to your clit to draw out your orgasm even longer. You let out an even louder whimper when he pulled the toy out, hating how empty your pussy felt as you squeezed and throbbed around nothing. You stared at the toy in Oscar’s hand and then back up at his face, leaning forward you kissed it softly before licking the tip, taking it into your mouth and gently sucking on it. Oscar groaned at the sight and grabbed your waist with his free hand, pulling you up to his eye level. You giggled as a plan formed in your mind and you gently pushed his hand towards his lips instead, he seemed to understand as he licked your arousal off the toy himself, eyes fluttering shut as he tasted you. “C’mere,” you whispered to him quietly, gently holding his face with one hand as your other hand moved down to squeeze and stroke him through his sweatpants. Your lips also wrapped around the toy and you licked into Oscar’s mouth, making out with him with the dildo between you.

You giggled as you felt him throb through his clothes, clearly enjoying this new experience. You moaned as Oscar broke away from you to duck his head into your neck and leave some sloppy kisses there. You continued to suck the toy off, closing your eyes and putting on a show you knew was getting harder to ignore. Oscar looked back up at you and his mouth gaped a little at how hot you looked. Grasping the toy in his own hand once more he gently pushed the toy down your throat and hissed as you stared up at him, big doe eyes looking at him so sweetly, 

“Back on your hands and knees baby.” His voice was low and though you’d been fucking yourself for a while, you still felt another wave of arousal course through you. 

Turning round you yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, “Such a fucking slut baby… is this what you do when I’m away hmm?” He leaned over you to bite your earlobe and kiss your neck as he pulled his sweats down. He was ridiculously hard, pre-cum already dripping from the tip of his cock and he smeared it across your pussy lips, sticky and messy. You moaned and tried pushing yourself back onto him but he simply tutted and held your plush hips in place with one arm while he other hand spanked you again, relishing in the way your flesh rippled from his hand, “You just couldn’t wait hmm?” You mewled and shook your head, “M sorry Oscar just missed you too mu- Oh!” You stopped mid-sentence as he thrust into you at once, moaning as his head dropped to the middle of your back. Pressing gentle kisses down as he straightened up, slowly pulling out in a way that had your arms collapsing and your head falling into the pillow. 

“You okay angel?” He breathed, leaning over you again to check in and you nodded, “M okay Osc, promise. Just need you to move, please!” He nodded and pulled out slowly, smirking at the way your body shuddered and shook under him, before he started a relentless pace. His hips slapped into your ass and you fucking giggled as he fucked you. Something about that made Oscar throb. Your pussy convulsed around him as you mindlessly babbled at him, too fucked out to make sense anymore, “Yes fuck Oscar, baby it’s so good, so big, so big fuck,” You gasped, “missed your cock so much baby, missed worshipping it, fuckkkk want it in my mouth, gimme your fingers please?” Oscar obliged and the hand not guiding your hips pushed two fingers into your mouth. Oscar’s own eyes rolled back as he felt you drooling and sucking. “Not enough Osc, need more!” You cried out and his eyes caught sight of the orange toy that now lay discarded next to you, still covered in your arousal. Oscar smirked to himself once more, removing his fingers from your mouth and picking the toy up. He moved close to your ear, wanting to see this up close as he whispered, “You need more angel? Then here you go.” he tapped the dildo against your lips and you hummed happily, greedily opening your mouth to stuff it full of the silicone toy. “How is it angel hmm? Tasting yourself on that toy?” You gave an enthusiastic moan, smiling even with your mouth full and Oscar found himself staring at you adoringly, never wavering in how his hips pistoned in and out of you. 

He straightened up, allowing you to fuck your own throat with the toy, focusing on gripping your fleshy hips and tummy and fucking into you. He could feel himself sweating and his hair was in his eyes but still he would not stop. He let out a guttaral groan when he realised that you were now bouncing back to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself and humping his cock. His hips stilled for a moment as he let you grind, working for what you were so desperate to have, “There you go… mhmm good fuckin girl that’s it… atta girl.” He praised you as you grew even needier, throwing yourself back with more and more enthusiasm each time. 

“Oscar!” You squealed as a hand snuck down to softly slide over your clit and you froze, thighs shaking from the stimulation, “Easy, angel, I got you…” You stuffed your mouth full of the toy once more and led there, happy to be on the receiving end of his attention and affections. Oscar continued to rub your clit and he smoothly rolled his hips into yours, loving every squeak and whimper and moan and mewl he elicited from you. 

You fought to keep your eyes open as you felt that pressure building and building between your legs. “Oscar…” You pulled off of the toy to warn him you were close, Oscar’s response was to simply lean down over you, practically mounting you as his hips refused to stop, now pounding into you.He grabbed the toy and threw it to one side, smashing his lips to yours in a messy exchange of spit and breath and moans. You whimpered, the slight change in his position causing him to rub against your g-spot with every push and pull thrust. You could feel your body climbing higher and you scrabbled to grab the hand near your head and link his fingers with yours, “Fuck baby!” You cried and Oscar knew the sound immediately, “Cum for me angel, there you go, atta girl…”

He cooed at you as you came hard. Moaning into his mouth and squeezing his hands as your pussy convulsed and fluttered around his cock. Oscar’s head dropped to the pillow next to you as he did his best to hold it together, wanting to fuck you through your orgasm. You giggled as you came down from your high, gasping when his hips circled, keeping his cock deep inside you as he did. You legs gave out and you slid to lay down, Oscar following you down gently as he started to softly rut into you, grinding and circling his hips this time rather than thrusting, he kissed your neck softly before biting lightly, not enough to mark but just enough to feel it there, “Missed you so so much angel,” You gasped, “Yeah?” “Mmm…” He moaned, “Been fuckin torture being away from you…”

You tipped your head to the side to allow him to leave more kisses between words, “Missed your pretty eyes, your soft lips, these gorgeous thighs, your perfect hips, your sweet cunt.” He emphasised the last word with a soft thrust and you smiled, loving how he took care of you but now it was his turn, “Missed you too baby…” Oscar laughed and kissed your cheek, “you did hmm?” “Yeah… missed your freckles and your arms holdin’ me, missed your pretty hands, your head in my lap, missed your hips and missed… oh…” a soft moan cut you off, “Missed what angel?” Oscar rolled his hips particularly deep and you inhaled sharply, “Missed your cock!” 

Oscar tutted at this, “Sure didn’t seem like it baby… you had that toy stuffed in your sweet hole pretty good when I got home…” You whined, “Didn’t feel the same, didn’t feel as good!” You reasoned, Oscar’s hips began to move a little more, beginning that familiar motion of sliding in and out of you. He could feel how you’d not only made a mess on your own thighs but his thighs too, and his hips. “Didn’t feel as good hmm? You certainly seemed to be enjoying it?” “Just missed you too much!” A hand snaked up to gently take hold of your throat, not to choke you but enough to remind you of who was in charge. You panted as his thrusts increased again, “Please Oscar, wanna feel you full me up!”

His eyes closed and his head rested against your shoulder as he heard you begging for his cum, “Need to feel you fill me up, please? Be so fuckin good for you Osc, I promise!” You heard him growl next to your ear, a low sound that had you determined to make this man lose his damn mind. “Yes, just like that baby, please don’t stop please please please!” You kept begging him over and over, knowing you wouldn’t be satisfied until he was spilling out of you, “Please baby, show me just how much you missed me, yes yes yes! Fuck. Make me fuckin take it come on baby… ‘S so fucking good Oscar… only one that can make me feel this good. Mmm fucking love your cock oh my GOD!-” Oscar’s hand tightened round your throat a little as his hips slapped into yours with more need once again, too turned on by your begging to do anything else, “Gonna fill you up angel, “Yes!” You cried out, Oscar felt his balls tighten and his cock throb, “Gonna breed my pretty girl, cum nice and deep inside you hmm? Mark you from the inside shit, FUCK! I love you!” With a loud growl, Oscar’s cock throbbed as he shot ropes of his thick hot cum deep inside you, just rocking back and forth as he made sure to spill every last drop into your greedy cunt. 

He pressed a long kiss to your neck, then your cheek and then the side of your head. 

With Oscar on top of you and having already cum multiple times, you felt all warm and cosy and you couldn’t help the way you immediately felt sleepy, “Welcome home baby…” Oscar chuckled and rolled off of you, pulling you with him to cuddle into his side, “Angel, have you even slept yet?” You yawned as you nodded, “For a couple of hours at least…” You trailed off feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once, “Oh no no no angel, bathroom first, then water, then sleep!” You groaned but Oscar was firm and you knew he was right. He helped you to the bathroom and then went to grab water while you finished up. After falling into bed together you immediately cuddled up to him, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you threw you leg over his waist, his hand automatically rubbing your thigh. Things with Oscar always felt so right, so natural, so normal. You gave a contented sigh and Oscar snorted as he spotted the bright orange toy in the corner of the room from where it had gracefully landed after being flung off the bed earlier. You followed his gaze and giggled as he broke into full laughter, “Papaya Y/N? I mean, really?” You shook your head, “It wasn’t me! One of my friends bought it as a joke gift and today was the fist time I…” You trailed off and he squeezed you tightly, understanding what you meant, “We should definitely talk about what was going on between you  and that toy though…” Oscar blushed and you kissed his cheek, “Don’t worry baby, it was hot!” Oscar smiled at you, settling down to fall asleep with you in his arms, “What a welcome home ey?” 

࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

[seungkw1]

check me out — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], college au ♡ wc: 2.4k ♡ warnings: semi-public sex, protected piv sex (wrap it up folks), fingering, squirting, sk hand and thigh appreciation!, lotta whimpering going on (act shocked), fair amount of neck touching, fingers in mouth, pet names (baby) ♡ a/n: that picture of him in the shorts broke my brain and then i did this. (ren stop writing boo college aus challenge: failed)

It's hard to study when your campus crush is sitting across the library, directly in your line of sight, distracting you with his exquisite thighs on full display. So, you find a new way to relieve the stress of midterms.

It’s all his fucking fault. Seungkwan and his stupid kissable face and his stupid little shorts. Taunting you from across the library, distracting you from your fucking midterms. Sitting there, typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the sheer agony he is causing you. Unaware that the way he is sitting, legs spread ever so slightly, visible from underneath the table, is so incredibly distracting from the paper you're supposed to be writing right now. Even in the shadow of the tabletop and the room’s dim lighting, the golden skin of his exposed legs glows in the warm light - utterly tempting you to run your hands along his inner thighs, squeezing his toned muscles before ripping those damn shorts off of him and draining his fucking balls. You zone out, lost in shameful daydreams of Seungkwan’s cock - what it looks like, what it would feel like in your hand, in your mouth…

You become aware several moments too late that Seungkwan has now noticed you staring directly at him. Shit. 

You quickly look down to your laptop, which has by now gone to sleep. You re-enter your password, the screen opening to the nearly-blank document that is supposed to somehow become a ten page essay by tomorrow night. Sighing at your severe dumbassery, you risk a glance back up across the room. Seungkwan is still looking at you, his expression tinged with confusion. Upon noticing that you noticed him noticing you, he silently panics, returning briskly to his work. Try as you might, you can't stop peeping up at him - making momentary eye contact again no fewer than six times. Eventually, you rest your forehead against your hand, forcing your eyes shut. If I close my eyes I can't look at him. Problem solved. But unfortunately for you, his image is fully ingrained in your memory. You start thinking about his thighs again, about how badly you want to be between them…

Enough. 

You raise your head again, but Seungkwan has disappeared. As has his stuff - the table is now vacant. You sigh, relieved that your unignorable distraction is gone, but also a bit sad that he just up and left. Not like anything other than repressed sexual tension was going to come of you two ogling each other from across the room, but you're still mopey about it. 

You check your phone, finding a text notification from your roommate. 

u coming home for dinner? i was thinking about ordering a pizza

Opening your messages, you type a quick reply. 

hell yeah, sounds good. omw

Swiftly packing up your things, you head out of the room. You speed walk down the hall, making a beeline for the exit, when a soft voice echoes from behind you. 

“Hey!”

You turn to see Seungkwan, who has apparently materialized out of thin air. He looks mildly nervous, his hands fiddling with his silver ring as he stands before you, eyes locked onto yours in a way that makes your stomach do a flip. 

“Oh, hey.”

Silence follows for several seconds, the atmosphere between you two rife with electricity despite barely knowing each other. It's clear that the desire burning deep in your gut is equally reciprocated - but you're both not quite sure how to proceed. 

Seungkwan clears his throat. 

“Um so… how's it going?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, unenthralled with the attempted small talk. He looks anxious, wondering if he fucked up. Without a word you grab him by the forearm, pulling him with you as you head off down a different hallway, in the opposite direction of the exit. 

“Oh,” he remarks as you drag him deeper into the library. “Uh, where are we going?” 

You glance back at him, answering him only with a mischievous smirk. His eyes widen, the tips of his ears immediately burning bright crimson. You continue down the winding hallways, entering parts of the library Seungkwan has never even been in before. Finally, you reach an unremarkable door, locked with a keypad. You enter the four-digit code; with a soft beep the door unlocks. He gives you a questioning look as you turn the handle, the door creaking slightly on its hinges. 

“How do you know the password?”

“I work here.”

“You’re a librarian??”

“Part-time,” you say with a grin, dragging him into the dark room. “It’s my work-study job.”

“Ohhhh, nice.”

The door clunks shut behind you, the room going pitch black. You reach blindly for the chain hanging from the ceiling, locating it easily and giving it a sturdy tug. An ancient incandescent lightbulb buzzes to life, not brightening the room by much but giving you enough light to see Seungkwan standing before you. His eyes adjust to the dimly-lit surroundings, taking in the cluttered storage room: slightly-dusty boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling, forgotten books scattered upon rickety carts, old desks residing in various states of disrepair. A sight to see, certainly, but quickly his attention turns back to you. He starts to ask you something, but shakes his head as he decides it isn't important. You catch his eyes lingering upon your lips; with a smirk you step closer, taking his hands in yours, lacing your fingers through his. He stares at you, eyes glazed over with desire, as your faces are now mere inches apart. The room is nearly silent, filled only with the ambient low hum of the lightbulb and deep breaths emanating from the both of you. You can feel his pulse pounding in his palms - though undoubtedly your heart is beating heavily too right now. Finally, you ask for what you've wanted all night. 

“Are you gonna kiss me or wha-”

You don't get to finish your sentence before Seungkwan’s lips are on yours. He draws you in, releasing your fingers in favor of reaching for your waist, sneaking beneath your backpack and pulling your body into his as he kisses you. You make out with him, each of you kissing the other as if you were kissing a long-lost lover, and not a classmate you've only been thirsting over from a distance. His nose brushes against yours as he pulls his head back slightly, breaking your lips apart momentarily so he can remove your backpack, tossing it upon a nearby table; he does the same with his. Free now from the hindrance of your bags, he wraps his arm around your waist to the small of your back, clutching you against himself as he places his other hand upon the back of your neck. If your pussy wasn't aching before, it certainly is now. 

His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting you hungrily as he holds you tight. You feel his cock begin to grow heavy in his pants, pressing into your stomach, twitching as you slide your hands beneath his shirt to grasp the sides of his torso; his skin is warm to the touch, radiating heat. Squeezing you against him tighter and tighter, finally his lips release yours, his dark brown eyes staring at you with intense desire, breathing deeply, his exhales landing upon your lips. You take the moment to reach for his bulge, taking it in your palm and gently squeezing. He lets out a low groan, his eyes closing as you touch him through his shorts. With your free hand, you tug on the waistband. 

“Can I…?”

He nods fervently. You undo the button, slowly dragging the zipper down, then reaching into his underwear. He hisses as you grip his erect cock, freeing it and stroking it in your palm slowly. 

“Ohh fuckkkkk.”

He opens his eyes as he caresses the back of your neck, stroking your jawline with his thumb. You give him several more pumps, each agonizingly slow. Seungkwan is trying very hard not to whimper at your touch - without success. 

“That feels so good,” he mumbles, pressing his forehead against yours as he reaches for another kiss. His hand finds the waist of your pants; you give him an eager nod. He slides his hand beneath your underwear, feeling your hot skin as his fingers traverse down your pants. 

“Fuck,” he groans as he dips his fingertips into your folds, discovering an overwhelming wetness. You moan softly as he squeezes your clit between his fingers, gently and slowly rubbing back and forth. A fire burns in your gut at his touch, your cunt dripping in your panties. He slips two fingers into your hole, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His free hand clasps over your mouth to silence you. 

“Shhh baby, don't want anyone to hear us,” he mutters to you, but he too is struggling to keep quiet at your touch. 

He slowly pulses his long fingers into your soaked core, sliding in and out, causing you to squirm against him. He releases his hand from your face, replacing it with his lips, making out with you as he fingers you. You moan into his mouth, the sound muffled but growing louder as he increases his pace. He curls his fingertips, reaching the soft spongy spot inside you, sending you over the edge.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper against his lips. Your mind goes blank, seeing stars as you release, unable to think of anything but how good it feels. Your head leans back as you cry out, your whining echoing into the silence of the room as Seungkwan tucks his face into your neck, giving you tender kisses beneath your jaw as you ride out your high. The powerful orgasm ripples through you, your body quivering with pleasure. You begin to relax, breathing heavily as Seungkwan’s fingers slow, coming to a rest inside you. He carefully retrieves them from your pants, staring at the wetness coating his hand. You take his wrist, leading his fingers into your mouth, sucking on them as you clean your own juices off.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groans. His cock is throbbing at this point, painfully hard with arousal. You wrap your hands around his girth, stroking him steadily as you gaze into his eyes.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper. “If you want-”

“Yes,” he answers immediately, nodding rapidly. “I want to.”

You grin. “Good.”

You take his hands, pulling him over to the nearest desk that doesn’t look like it’s about to completely fall apart. You kick your sneakers off before pulling your pants off, tossing them onto your backpack.

“Wait,” Seungkwan stops you before you sit. “It’s dusty.”

He removes his cardigan, laying it atop the desk for you. 

“There.”

He grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and plopping you onto the sweater. He touches your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart, your soaked folds on full display before him. 

“Hold on, I have…”

He reaches for his backpack, finding his wallet and retrieving a condom from within. You take the wrapper from him, tearing it open and placing it over his tip, rolling the thin material over his length. 

“You sure no one's gonna find us in here?”

“This is overflow archival storage,” you inform him. “No one ever comes in here anyway.”

“Okay, good,” he says with a grin.

He slides his tip over your folds a few times, making your clit throb from the stimulation. 

“Ready?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” you whisper, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your entrance, his tip slipping inside with ease at your overwhelming wetness. He pushes his full length inside you; you let out a deep exhale as he fills up your pussy.

“Good?” he confirms.

“So good,” you reply with a smile.

He grabs your cheek with one hand, drawing your face in for a kiss. He begins to fuck you, slowly at first, sliding in and out steadily, getting even more turned on from watching his cock disappear inside you. His pace begins to quicken; he grabs you by the hips, gripping onto the soft skin to hold you in place as he thrusts into your pussy. You grasp onto his shirt, clinging to him, reveling in the gratification of finally getting fucked by the man you’ve lowkey been in love with since the school year began - and in the library, no less.

Your wails grow louder as a sharp feeling fills your gut. You gaze up at Seungkwan; he stares down at you intensely, his lips parted slightly as he lets out a string of low moans. 

“Your cock feels so good,” you whine - only encouraging him to fuck you harder and faster. Within moments you feel another orgasm begin to swell inside you.

“I’m gonna cum again-”

Your words are overtaken by cries of pleasure as you reach your second climax. Your eyes close, crying out as you cum on Seungkwan’s cock, your walls squeezing tight around him, accompanied by an unfamiliar but incredible sensation. He gasps as he releases too, giving you several strong final thrusts as he cums.

You take a moment to catch your breath, breathing heavily as you recover from the rush of adrenaline flowing through you. Eventually your eyes flutter open to see Seungkwan staring at you, wide-eyed, mouth slightly ajar as if in shock. It takes you a moment to process the fresh mess of wetness splashed across his shorts and lower shirt. Your eyes bug out of your head as you realize: you did that.

“Oh my god,” you blurt out. “I’m so sorry I didn’t-”

“Don’t be sorry,” Seungkwan cuts you off, the expression on his face looking like he just won the lottery. “That was so hot.”

“That’s, um… never happened before,” you admit, your cheeks turning warm with embarrassment. “Your clothes…”

He shakes his head as he pulls his shorts back up. “Don’t even worry about it.” 

He takes your hands, pulling you off the table back to your feet. As you put your pants and shoes back on, he grabs his sweater - also decently wet now - and ties it around his waist. He twists it slightly around his hips and adjusts the sleeves, successfully covering up most of the damp spots.

“See? All good,” he says proudly. “Nobody’s even gonna know.”

“Babe, your face is bright pink,” you inform him. “You’re literally glowing.”

“Oh,” he says sheepishly. “Well, I guess it’s dark outside by now anyway.”

“Oh shit,” you mumble, remembering you told your roommate you were headed home ages ago at this point. You retrieve your phone from your bag and find an unread text.

hey, are you coming? pizza’s here now 

You look up at Seungkwan. 

“Wanna grab a bite? There’s a good burger spot open late nearby.”

He smiles. “That sounds awesome, I’m starving.”

“Perfect.”

You return to your phone, typing a quick message.

change of plans, i’ll be home later. i’ll explain when i get back :) 

[otherone12]

Hi, I'm obsessed with the way you write your stories and I'd like to ask for a request, it's the first time I've done one but I love your stories. I'd like to ask you for one about basement gee x reader (the plot doesn't matter) but I'd like something smut (of course one where both are of legal age) but I'd like to see gerard as someone who is geeky and is in love (somewhat sickly) with the reader

I'm sorry if it's weird, and also English is not my first language so I'm sorry if the wording of the message is bad.

I’m Awkward, Not Dangerous!

Basement!Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

Hi!!! Omg, I'm glad you like my fics <3 !!! And also thanks for requesting!! I really loved the idea!! Well, I tried to make his nerdy side very visible, mainly by making him very weird in terms of social relationships and some geek references along in the story. Ngl, I had to write this one like three times, 'cause was never good enought, but I think it's nice now lol. I hope you like it! (If it turned out too different from what you imagined, let me know and I'll try to fix it :) )

(If u have some suggestion, idea, or request, just drop it! )

Summary: It suppoused to be another day, but things turned a different when Gerard invite you to watch a movie in his basement, let's just say he REALLY likes you, and you discovered this in the creepy way possible. (I'm terrible at writing summaries)

- Word Count: 3.000

- Warnings: afab SMUT, awkward gerard.

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

School sucks, our senior year was supposed to be a little funnier, right? Unfortunately, that's not what's happening, but it's infinitely better when they're with me.

Sometimes we spent entire periods outside the classroom, just chatting about anything and listening to our favorite bands, while we smoke behind the bleachers.

This was another one of those afternoons, where one less math lesson didn't make any difference, and it seemed much more interesting to hear Frank make jokes about someone's clothes. Followed by Mikey update us on the latest gigs in town, or Ray making insightful comments on every topic that comes up.

Sometimes, Gerard talks about the backstories of the heroes he created, so we spend hours thinking of outfits and some scenes that might be cool. Is really cute when he gets all excited talking about things he likes.

After a while, the conversation starts to wind down. Frank is scrolling through his phone, muttering something about needing to practice with his band. Mikey checks the time and mentions that his work shift was going to start. Ray says he has to study for some test he has tomorrow, and heads out first, leaving the rest of us behind with a lazy wave.

- Guess that’s it for me, folks. - Frank said, getting up - if I miss one more essay they'll look for another guitarist.

- I think I'll go too - Mikey stubbed out his cigarette and picked up his backpack, making his way to the video store - but I'll probably be home by 9pm��� maybe later if Pete and I go drink something after the shift.

Within minutes, it’s just Gerard and I.

He’s sitting a little awkwardly, tucking strands of hair behind the ear, like he’s waiting for the right moment to say something. It’s sweet how shy he gets sometimes, especially when the others aren’t around to drown out the silence. There’s always something a little different about him when it’s just the two of us.

- So, uh…- He cleared his throat. - Do you... wanna come over? I was gonna watch that new horror movie I told you about. The really bad one with the cheesy practical effects…

His voice was low, and he blinked with his beautiful hazel eyes, pleading. After a few seconds, he gave a shy, hopeful smile.

- I mean, only if you’re not busy or anything…

- Nope, I’m totally free. - I smiled at him, excited to watch the movie with him.

The walk to Gerard’s house is filled with easy conversation. He talks about the movie, rambling about the director’s other films, his company was really nice, actually. Every now and then, my shoulder brushes his, and I swear I catch him glancing at me from the corner of his eye. Wasn’t something bothering, but it’s kinda… weird?

When we finally reach Gerard’s place, he fumbled with his keys at the front door, a little too eager.

- My parents aren’t home… - He said, being a bit surprised - Well, I'm gonna fix the things in my room in the basement… Can you wait a minute?

he scratched the back of his neck, apparently nervous, so I let out a smile in an attempt to comfort him. I understand that since we hadn't arranged it beforehand, he didn't have time to prepare or anything.

- Sure!

- I’ll be right back - Gerard rushed to his basement, and I stayed in the living room of Way’s house.

Looking around, I saw family pictures, some paints on the wall, books, a pretty carpet… It was a pretty house. Wasn’t long before Gerard returned from the basement, nodding and beckoning me to follow.

Wasn’t the first time I went to his basement, but I was never alone with him.

It’s cluttered but cozy, just like the other times: comics spread out on his bed, action figures on shelves, and posters of old movies plastered along the walls. His bed was covered with a batman sheet, and he gestures toward it with an awkward smile.

- Make yourself comfortable. - Again, he rushed away, going to the kitchen - I’ll grab drinks.

I sat down, noticing the little details scattered everywhere. He even has a stack of DVDs, just waiting to be watched. It’s easy to see how much of himself Gerard has poured into this space, and somehow, that makes it feel intimate.

He came back with two cans of soda, handing me one as he flops onto the bed beside me. His knee bumped into mine, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he pressed play on the remote, the movie starting with a dramatic, over-the-top horror intro.

As the lights dim and the movie flickers to life, I notice Gerard sneaking a glance my way. It’s quick, like he’s checking to see if I’m still there or if I’ve evaporated into thin air. He shifted in his seat, awkwardly pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands.

I tried to focus on the screen, I really do, but out of nowhere, his hand brushes against mine. It was kind of an accidental touch, my heart raced, but I didn’t move it.

After some seconds of just the sound of the movie filling the room, Gerard cleaned his throat and took a deep breath, like he was trying to take courage to say something.

- Y’know… - I turned my attention to him - I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.

I Glance at him, and he’s looking at the TV like he’s afraid it might explode if he makes eye contact with me.

- Do what? - I asked, trying not to sound as jittery as I feel.

- Uh... spend time with just you. - He scratched the back of his neck, and his gaze moved from the tv to me.

I didn’t know what to say, so I defaulted to my nervous habit, fiddling with my bracelet, twisting it around my wrist like it holds the answer to every awkward situation. Gerard noticed, of course, because apparently, he has a PhD in Me Studies.

- You don’t have to be nervous, sugar.

“Sugar”? He never called me that way before. But he kept talking, like it wasn’t a big deal. I did not protest, I actually kinda liked it.

- You always mess with that bracelet when you’re nervous. - He said like it was something obvious - It’s... kinda cute.

I shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, only to realize: Gerard isn’t watching the movie. He’s watching me. And he’s terrible at being subtle about it.

Before I can process what’s happening, he slips his hand into mine, like a middle-schooler figuring out how to hold hands for the first time. His palm is warm, a little sweaty, okay, a lot of sweat, but weirdly... I didn’t mind.

It wasn't as if I didn't like him, maybe I really liked him too, I'd just never thought about it before. Back to the movie, my mind was filled with a million other things to think about, so I couldn't even focus on looking at the screen. My gaze traveled around the room, but something caught my eye: a small, familiar notebook lying half-tucked beneath a pile of DVDs on the coffee table really close to his bed.

The same notebook Gerard always carries with him at school, the one he’s always scribbling in during lunch or between classes. I couldn’t help myself to take advantage of Gerard's distraction, and I flipped it open. 

My eyes went wide and my heart skipped a beat when I saw what was inside that notebook. Pages and pages of photos of me. Some printed, others cut out from old Polaroids. All of them are candid shots, taken without my knowledge. There’s one of me smoking behind the bleachers, another of me laughing with Mikey, and several from school, walking to class, sitting at my desk, leaning against my locker.

Each one is accompanied by small, scribbled notes in Gerard’s messy handwriting. Things like “She looks so pretty here.” or “I wish this was just the two of us.” … Along with sketches of portraits, pieces of comics that meant something in our “relationship”. There were sketches of us together, drawn in different comic styles, one of us as Jedi, another as superheroes, and even one as cartoon vampires, all accompanied by little speech bubbles with inside jokes.

Every page flipped, I got even more shocked about the large amount of content he has there. Things from years ago, and the last things were from the last days.

- Hey... What are you looking at? - His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it now, a note of panic creeping in.

I glance up to see Gerard frozen in place, his hazel eyes wide with fear as he notices the notebook in your hands.

- W-where did you…? - He mumbled, turning bright red, embarrassed - Uh... I can explain! Wait, no, I mean- don't freak out... It’s... okay, it looks bad, but it’s not that bad.

He let go from my hand and got up, rubbing his hands together nervously. he began to pant, and his countenance indicated that he was desperately looking for an excuse.

- Well, it is exactly what it looks like! - I yell, turning back to the notebook, still shocked, analyzing every page.

He turned around, rubbing one of his hands over his face in a messy motion. Before long, he began to walk around the room in circles, while his shaky voice continued to speak.

- Oh God, I’m gonna die. Yep. This is how I die. - he murmured to himself, before facing me again - Just bury me under these comics.

Before i could say anything, he blurts:

- Okay, look… it’s not like I’m a total creep, okay? I-I just... thought you looked cool... like, really cool, and, um - The words rushed out of his mouth, as if he had stopped thinking and was just throwing anything to ease the situation -… okay, I might have taken some pictures without asking… b-but it’s not like ‘weird’ weird! It’s... more... uh... admiration?

I couldn't hide my look of confusion. At the same time as I wanted to get out of there, I didn't want to. It was obviously strange, but at the same time it was adorable the way he noticed me. The things he wrote in that notebook said so much more than I could have imagined he felt. Not giving me time to think about what to say, he kept going.

- I thought, y'know, maybe if I... cataloged- no, wait, bad word… uh, recorded...? - He groans - I swear I sound less creepy in my head.

- Look, I was gonna tell you... - He insists, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. - I mean, not like this, obviously. 

He catched my confused expression and groans again.

-Ugh, you probably think I’m a total loser now.

The more he spoke, the less frightening the situation became and the cuter he seemed to me. So I stood up, in a failed attempt to calm him down, but the result was the complete opposite.

- Wait! Please don’t go. I-I know this is... a lot. But I promise I’m not some psycho. - He pauses, then adds, - Like, I’m awkward, not dangerous! 

I don't know where that feeling came from. Maybe it's always been there. I wanted to hug him, kiss him and tell him that it was fine, that I knew he wasn’t a psycho. 

 - Okay, okay! I know I’m weird, but... don’t leave me hanging here. Please. I really... like you. - the statement caught me off guard. it's not as if it wasn't obvious, but I wasn't prepared.  -  Like, more than I ever thought possible.

The way he looks at me, a perfect mix of nervous wreck and hopeful puppy is strangely endearing. Something about his awkward honesty makes it impossible to walk away. So I finally react, letting a grin escape from the corner of my lip. 

- You’re such a dork, Gee. - I chuckled, and his eyes opened wide.

- W-wait, does that mean…? - A confused happiness made Gerard freeze and look directly at me. 

-Yeah. - I approached him, smiling and rolling my eyes - I think I like you too, you idiot.

-Oh my God… - his hazel eyes glowed and a huge smile formed in his pink lips - this is like one of those rom-coms where the nerd actually wins?!

I shook my head, laughing at his words. He’s still red-faced and fumbling, but it’s clear now: he’s just a lovable, geeky mess who adores me in his own awkward way.

- No pressure or anything, but, uh... If we were in a romance movie, this would be the part where the two leads kiss.

I chuckled and my lips reached his. The warm sensation filled my body, the kiss was sloppy and desperate, felt like something he was holding for too long, something he couldn’t deal with anymore. His hands held my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He let out a soft moan and pulled back only to whisper:

- This feels like... you know... that scene in Return of the Jedi when-

- Gerard, - I interrupted, laughing. - Less Star Wars and more kissing, please.

- Right, yeah, sorry. - He turned bright red.

Gerard catched my lips again, deeper this time, with a bit more confidence. His hand slid to my waist, thumb brushing lazy circles against my skin, and his tongue explored my mouth, while he laid me down on his bed. His lips trailing down to my neck, scattering kisses that made my whole body buzz.

-You smell amazing. Like... that forest level in that one game. You know, the one where…

He trailed off, realizing how silly it sounded, but the look on his face was too earnest to be embarrassed.

- You are such a dork. - I laughed again, running my fingers through his messy hair. 

- Yeah, but I’m your dork, - he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone.

His touch was gentle but hungry, as if each kiss, each brush of his fingers, was an apology for all the moments he’d spent longing for this. 

When he slid his hands under my shirt, he paused, looking at me with wide, nervous eyes. 

- Is this... okay? - he asked, shyly. The insecurity in his tone of voice was adorable, no more so than the sparkle in his eyes as he saw me give him a nod, lifting my arms so he could pull the shirt over my head. His gaze lingered on me, admiration glowing in his eyes. - Wow... You’re so -

- Gerard.-  I touched his face, guiding him back down for another kiss. - You’re doing fine.

He smiled, clearly relieved, and kissed me again, this time more eagerly. His hands, still trembling slightly, found their way to the button of my jeans. He fumbled for a moment, biting his lip in concentration. 

Once my jeans were off, he took a moment to just look at me, his hands resting on my hips as if grounding himself. 

- I don’t want to mess this up -  he whispered. 

- You’re not messing anything up, Gee..- i calmed him, brushing a thumb over his flushed cheek - Just... keep going

That was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed me again, his hands moving with a little more certainty now, sliding beneath my bra to touch bare skin. I gasped, arching into his touch, and he let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

When he finally got out of his clothes, struggling with his belt in the process,

 -  Stupid thing… -  he muttered  flustered and I couldn't stop smiling. 

He was trying so hard, and there was something endearing about how eager yet unsure he was.

He kissed me again, slower this time, savoring the moment as his hands trailed down to my thighs, spreading them gently. His boxers were the last to go, and when I felt him against me, the heat between us became impossible to ignore.

- I’ve dreamed about this, - Gerard admitted breathlessly, kissing the side of my neck. - About you... For so long.

I felt my body react to him instinctively, desire building with every brush of his skin against mine. When he paused, hovering just at the edge, his eyes searched mine one last time.

- Is this okay? -  he whispered, his voice low and full of both need and vulnerability.

- Yes,-  I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. - I want this, Gee.

And then, with a slow, careful thrust, his cock was inside me. I gasped, gripping his hair as my body adjusted to the sensation. The burn was sweet and overwhelming.

He started moving, hesitant at first, like he was still learning how to sync with me. But every time I moaned his name, he seemed to gain a little more confidence, his rhythm becoming more certain, more desperate.

The heat between us grew, the room filled with soft gasps and whispered encouragement. His hands roamed my body, one settling on my waist, the other cradling my face as if I were something precious. As deeper he was coming I felt the tension coil in my stomach, tighter and tighter, until I was teetering right on the edge. 

- I’m close…

- Do it, sugar, - he panted, his voice thick with need. - Cum for me.

With a final thrust, the pleasure crashed over me like a wave. I clenched around him, clinging to him, nails digging into his back as I moaned his name, lost in the intensity of it.

Gerard groaned, his movements faltering as he reached his own release. The warmth of the ropes of his cum filling me up pushed me deeper into my own bliss, and we stayed like that, tangled together, catching our breath.

He pressed a lazy kiss to my shoulder, his body still trembling slightly. 

- Wow… -  he whispered, sounding both dazed and amazed. - That was... better than any dream I’ve ever had.

I laughed softly, brushing damp hair from his forehead. 

- Yeah. Way better.

___________________________________________

~ sooo, that's it! Let me know if you liked! :)

[endgamelukola]

DAY 2:

I think the astrology of Luke and Nic says a lot of things about them as individuals and how they could potential interact with each other that is pretty fascinating.

My disclaimer here is that astrology is a fun personality test-type thing to me. I do not make major life decisions or hold heavy weight in it, but if I can explain why people are buttholes by learning that Mercury is in Retrograde YET AGAIN, bess believe I'mma do it. It really just provides a way to think about how we're influenced by where the world was at in the universe when we were born. And if you're rolling your eyes and saying 'omg, astrology is so dumb, people can't be lumped into categories that way' I would ask WHERE'S THE AQUARIUS IN YOUR CHART? lol I'm playin.

ANY WAY. I'm not an astrology guru of any means, so if you're looking for a LUKOLA ASTROLOGY CLASS, I recommend onesagesview on YouTube because that woman goes so deep into the weeds that even I haven't watched all of her analysis. What I think is worth knowing is the big three of each, because they give an estimate of how an individual operates within the world around them.

So from my limited knowledge, the big three of astrology are your RISING SIGN, your SUN SIGN, and your MOON SIGN. The most surface level people usually know is their sun sign. For example, if you haven't already clocked my sign, just know I'm born in August three days after Rory (i don't wanna talk about it, THE MEN ARE DIFFERENT OK). More about the big three though: the moon sign represents your inner world, the sun sign represents your core self, and the rising sign represents your outward persona and/or how others see you.

Nicola is a Taurus Moon (earth), Capricorn Sun (earth), and Aquarius Rising (air). So this confirms me a lot of what we already know about Nic, and gives more room for looking at other parts of her chart as well since it fits like a Cinderella shoe.

Nic is the first to admit she loves a good trailer nap, and combined with her response in a red flag interview of someone using a 3-in-1 for their shower, I'd say that Taurus moon shines bright. In my experience, Capricorns are genuine human beings who don't sugarcoat themselves for others. I've come across a few TikToks analyzing how women in society have been fed the message of not being "too much" and I'd say the Capricorn is the antithesis of this, but not in a loud or intentional way, if that makes sense? They're just who they are. And they really don't have time to be anyone else, and that shit is admirable in my book. So another point in the confirm column for how it aligns with Nic. She may be damn good at portraying other people, but best believe there's no mistaking who she is off camera for those closest to her. Finally, that Aquarius rising is that salt bae moment on top! Aquarians are concerned with everyone else, but again, not in a loud or intentional way. They're naturally dispositioned to look at the world and mine it for their causes. This is the humanitarian element we see, I think, where Nicola isn't afraid to stand firmly behind the causes she believes in, regardless of how others may view her.

Then mix that combination together, Taurus + Capricorn + Aquarius and you've got someone who is down for a good time at home (whether home is a place, a group of people, etc) and will not allow their peace to be disturbed. If their peace is disturbed? Expect to hear about how you crossed the line and how you won't be doing it again. (ex. normalize not filming people in public *kisses*)

So that's my yap about Nicola's big three! Nothing new here, folks, but I'll review Luke's tomorrow because I LIKE TO YAP.

Merry Lukola-mas!

[patchworkgargoyle]

Booty 🌿

Steve has a plan, and Eddie falls for it. || read on ao3

Here it finally is, folks! My first smut for the ST fandom. I hope you like it!! Inspired by this post.

WC: ~4.8k || E || CW: Unsafe sex

“Please, Eddie?”

“Are you insane, Steve? It’s hotter than Satan’s taint out there, you cannot expect me to peel myself off this couch.”

Eddie heard a frustrated sigh and a small thud, imagining that Steve had let his head drop on the wall by his phone. “Yeah, I’m aware, I’m sweating buckets right now. But I gotta have the car fixed before tomorrow, I promised Claudia I’d pick up Dustin from the bus station and I can’t do that if it won’t start.”

Thing was, Eddie did kinda want to go and help him, heatwave be damned. They’d grown close in the months since spring break and despite his previous misgivings Eddie had gotten to like Steve. More than he should, really. He can’t help it if his queer little heart does a jig every time he manages to make Steve laugh in that eye-crinkling, head-tipped-back kind of way. Got good at it too, which made Eddie feel a great deal of selfish pride. And if he can’t take his eyes off the long lines of Steve’s mole-dotted neck, that’s his own business.

But this was something else. As soon as Steve called to ask if Eddie would help fix the Bimmer he couldn’t get the thought of him–sweaty and greasy and bent over the open hood of the car, his hair falling just so and lip bitten between his teeth in concentration–out of his dirty little mind. The things he’d want to do. It did as much to convince Eddie to go as it did to make him want to keep his distance.

He was a weak man, however.

“Fine. Alright. But you’d better make it worth my time, I’m risking my pale, un-sunburnt ass for this.”

Steve snorted. “Don’t worry, I will,” he said blandly.

They hung up after Eddie promised to be there in a few minutes, and he rolled off of the couch with a melodramatic groan. Moving in the muggy heat trapped inside the trailer sucked, but he wasn’t going to back out. Steve had sounded so relieved when he’d said goodbye that it gave Eddie enough pep to lurch his way to the kitchen to grab a few cold beers before scrambling into his van. He appreciated his own forethought when he burned his hand on the door handle and could hold a cold bottle against the spot. Fucking summer.

Parking in the Harringtons’ driveway, he spotted the Bimmer pulled halfway into the garage, the front shaded by the overhang in what must be an attempt to avoid the worst of the sunlight. The hood was popped open, but Eddie couldn’t see Steve.

“Ohh Stevie!” he sang, “your knight in shining armour has arrived!” He heard something thunk from the garage but got no response, so he wandered inside, trying to peer around the hood. “I come bearing gifts but they’re gonna get–”

Wheels squeaked from below and Eddie looked down, only to be treated to the sight of Steve’s legs, long and hairy and sprawled open, flexing as he dragged himself out from under the car on the creeper and revealing more inches of mouth-watering thighs. He was–oh fuck, Steve was wearing the tiniest cut-off jean shorts Eddie had ever seen, the fabric of the pockets poking out from under the frayed hems. They were tight, too, hugging his hips and, god, his bulge. The white tank top Steve wore had ridden up, too, exposing the trail of hair that dipped below the fucking shorts, but Eddie followed it up, along the grease stains and the swell of his pecs to Steve’s grinning face.

“...Hot.” Eddie’s voice cracked around the word.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie said, “The beer, it’s uh, gonna get hot.” Somehow he managed to not sound like he was choking on his own drool while Steve still stared up at him from the ground, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. There was a slight smear of dirt across his cheek and Eddie wanted to lick it off.

“You know where the fridge is, Eddie, if you’re that worried.”

“Nah, you look like you need a break. Get up here,” he said, waggling the bottle over Steve’s face. Steve chuckled but finally stood and relieved Eddie of the misery of seeing Steve on his back and not having been the one to put him there.

He popped the caps off with the bottle opener on his keychain, and Steve took his with a ‘thank you,’ downing half in a few gulps. Eddie distracted himself from the sight of Steve’s throat bobbing by peering over at the engine.

“So what’s the issue, doc?”

Steve pulled away from the bottle with a soft popping sound from his pink lips and a gasp. “Dunno yet. That’s why I called you,” he said, leaning on the car beside Eddie. “Oil and battery are fine, spark plugs look good too.”

“She been making a sputtering kind of sound recently? Could be the throttle.”

“Nah, no weird noises.”

Eddie hummed, then set his bottle aside. “Alright, let’s get underneath her then.” Lowering himself onto the creeper and sliding under the car, he said, “Could be a belt has finally busted. Got a flashlight?”

“Really need to ask that?” Steve’s voice got fainter as he walked a little ways away. “The kids insisted on a disaster preparedness kit after round two with the Upside Down.”

There was a tap on the wood under Eddie’s hip, and blindly he reached down to grab the flashlight Steve found. He tinkered around under the Bimmer, unable to wipe away the sweat that started to drip and stick his bangs to his forehead. But eventually he began to roll back out into open, but no less stupidly hot, air.

“Looks like everything’s shipshape, captain–” Eddie choked on his own words when he looked up and was met with a sight straight out of his wet dreams.

Steve stood over Eddie, his legs spread wide enough that Eddie had rolled right between them. If he sat down, Steve would be straddling Eddie’s hips, but that would deprive him of this new angle at which to admire all of Steve’s assets wrapped so tightly in frayed, lightwash denim. Mouth falling open, Eddie let out an eloquent, “Uhhh,” and Steve laughed, holding out his hand.

“Thought you’d like a hand,” Steve explained, smirking.

He took it without thinking and let Steve haul him off the creeper board and up to his feet. A kick, and Steve sent the board skittering away underneath the car, but Eddie barely winced at the noise. He was too busy standing so close to Steve that they breathed the same humid air. If he so much as swayed, their noses would bump together. Christ, Steve had pretty eyes, a bright, warm brown flecked with amber even in the shade of the garage and he swore he could see Steve’s pupils dilate the longer their gazes locked together.

“So, what were you saying?” Steve asked in a low tone. He tilted his head ever so slightly and those eyes held some kind of dare within them, one eyebrow ticked upward. Eddie couldn’t help swallowing, licking his lips, and Steve went from staring into Eddie’s eyes to down at his lips.

“Just saying that, that everything looked fine. Might, uh, might be the crankshaft or the–” Steve stepped forward just enough to bring their chests together, the back of Eddie’s knees hitting the bumper, and Eddie’s breath hitched, his voice cracking, “–the sensor.”

“Eddie.” The way Steve said his name sent a frisson of heat through Eddie, right to his dick, which was becoming a very obvious guest between them.

“Yeah, Stevie?” he whispered.

Broad, warm hands wrapped around Eddie’s slim hips. Steve worked a finger through a belt loop on each side and tugged, and Eddie realised he wasn’t the only one with a hard on when Steve’s pressed up against his own, pulling a hiss of pleasure from them both. Oh, shit. Leaning impossibly closer, Steve’s lips brushed against Eddie’s when he spoke. “I don’t care about the car right now.”

That snapped whatever faint, lingering reservations Eddie had. “Fuck, Stevie, please kiss m–” He didn’t even finish before Steve’s lips crashed into his, plush and hungry. It wasn’t long before Eddie began to nip and lick, his teeth drawing short, pleased noises from Steve’s mouth before he pulled back a scant inch.

“Fucking finally,” Steve said, and dove back in, biting back, making Eddie groan. His hands found their way to Steve’s sides, then, spurred on by Steve’s enthusiasm, he reached down and grabbed at his ass. His fingers wrapped under the hem and he yanked Steve’s hips in and up, rising to meet them.

Steve’s cock grinding against Eddie’s was a fucking revelation. From the way Steve’s mouth parted with a hot gasp, Eddie guessed he felt the same. “Hold on, baby,” he rasped, and using what leverage he had, Eddie hoisted Steve onto his lap, Steve’s knees spread and braced on the car. There was no way he could keep them there for long, but fuck it was hot, rutting their hips together while they kissed, wet and messy.

Eddie tasted the salt of his own sweat when Steve licked into his mouth and moaned, hands fisted into the denim in his grip, feeling more sweat beginning to drip down his back. The heat was stifling, but nothing compared to what started to grow in Eddie’s gut. One of Steve’s hands buried in his curls and pulled, had Eddie bucking up and whimpering around Steve’s tongue. He could come like this, dry humping on top of the Bimmer, lap full of Steve in those shorts, hands on his perfect ass, would’ve if the idea weren’t more embarrassing than hot.

“St-Steve, wait,” Eddie panted, whining again when Steve’s hand clenched in his hair again.

“Why’d you stop? Don’t wanna stop, Eddie,” Steve groaned, before a little more clarity seeped into him and he leaned back into his arms, concerned. “Or, shit, wait, is this okay?”

“God, fuck yes this is okay. Been thinking about this forever, man.” Steve smiled widely, verging on a little goofy, before ducking in and pressing open-mouthed kisses to Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s arms began to shake. His legs had long since begun to tremble. “But, hang on, ah, I’m gonna either drop you or come in my shorts in like two minutes if we don’t rethink this.”

All that did was make Steve start rocking into him again. “Hot,” he mumbled as he licked up a trail of sweat under Eddie’s jaw, making Eddie swear and tip his head back.

Eddie’s knees decided to buckle right then. They shouted, Eddie scrambled, locking Steve in his arms and getting his feet under himself before standing, his hands still hooked around Steve’s ass while Steve’s legs clung to his waist. Steve’s shocked expression likely matched Eddie’s, before he rested his forehead against Eddie’s and laughed so hard his body shook. Helpless, Eddie joined in, holding Steve close while their giggling faded out. But his arms were aching so, gently, he put Steve down.

“Do you wanna stop?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.

“You?” Steve shook his. “Thank fuck,” Eddie said. He ran his hands over Steve’s ass, over the crease of his thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling the hair on the back of his thighs before guiding him close again. “Didn’t wanna let you go now that I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Steve dove into Eddie’s mouth with a hungry groan. The slick sounds of their lips echoed in the garage. With a tug, Steve turned them around and backed up into the car, his hands wandering underneath Eddie’s cut up Iron Maiden tee and clutching at his sides, over the fresh demobat scars, nails digging in bluntly.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off Steve either. He pawed at whatever he could, finding the places that made Steve pant and hum into his mouth. But he wanted more, because Eddie has always been a bit greedy. One hand snaked its way around to cup Steve through the shorts that barely contained him, pressing his fingers around the hard outline of Steve’s cock and squeezing, rubbing. The low, raspy moan he got for his efforts made Eddie grin wolfishly.

Head lolling back, Steve breathed hard and rose to meet each stroke of Eddie’s palm. Eddie began to bite and suck his way down the strong line of Steve’s neck, biting every mole he could find. “E-Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

The words made Eddie bite down just shy of too hard. Steve whined, and Eddie lapped at the spot in apology. “I wanna, I wanna so bad, Steve, but we’re fucking filthy, sweetheart,” he mumbled into Steve’s neck.

“Don’t need to do anything. I, mmh, prepared for this.”

Eddie pulled back to blink at him in disbelief. “You what?”

“I’ve been wanting this for months and nothing was working! So I just, made this as obvious as I fucking could.”

“Months?” Eddie’s jaw dropped when Steve gave him a look that managed to be both fond, flirty, and frustrated. “I could’ve been fucking you for months!?”

“Or I could’ve been fucking you.”

That idea, as sexy as it was, had to be pushed aside before it managed to make Eddie’s horny little brain leak out of his ears. “Putting a pin in that, that’s absolutely gonna happen, but I wanna revisit something. You prepared?”

Steve smirked. “Yeah,” he said, simple and cocky and so hot Eddie could combust. Eddie tried to capture Steve’s lips again but Steve stopped him with a firm hand against his chest, pushing Eddie back a few steps. Turning, he closed the hood of his car and instead of twisting back around to face Eddie, Steve leaned on his arms and arched his back.

Now that was a sight. Steve’s long, tan legs spread just so, one knee cocked to give a slight tilt to his hips. The firm, round swell of his ass peeking out under the denim that struggled to hold together. And right on the apex of those pretty, biteable, jean-clad cheeks: two dark, dirty handprints. There’s even the blackened imprint of fingers on Steve’s skin. Eddie’s fingers, Eddie’s hands. His cock twitched against his zipper and he moaned out, “Ohhh my god…”

Looking over his shoulder, Steve’s smug smirk grew, and he tilted his hips up a little further. “I know I look good, Munson, but are you gonna do something about it or what?”

Eddie stepped forward and draped himself along the expanse of Steve’s back, rutting his hips into Steve’s and making him hum sweetly. “Don’t have to get bratty about it, baby,” he said. He dragged his fingers along Steve’s sides, letting his nails catch on the soft texture of Steve’s scars before dipping down and popping his button open in one swift motion. “Tell me how you prepared.”

He felt the shiver his words evoked run down Steve’s spine. As he slid the zipper down and slid his hand in to find Steve had gone commando–both of them groaning when Eddie’s hand wrapped around Steve’s leaking, twitching cock–Eddie nuzzled into the dip between Steve’s ear and neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat and musk and the faint traces of a clean, fresh cologne valiantly hanging on.

“I, I got this toy. In Indy,” Steve gasped as Eddie pumped him, pulling his cock out as his hand sped up the more Steve spoke. “Worked myself open on it.”

“What’dya think of?” Eddie squeezed.

“You,” Steve keened, jerking into Eddie’s grip.

“Fuck. God. Alright, enough of this.” Standing, Eddie took his hand away and ignored the needy noise Steve made to instead yank the shorts down. Steve only bothered to step out of one leg, having to kick his foot when they got stuck on his shoe. It made his cheeks jiggle. Eddie couldn’t resist giving him a few taps just to watch it again before spreading those cheeks with his thumbs. More dirt smeared over Steve’s dewy skin, but that was only the opening act. The true star of the show glistened with lube and twitched under Eddie’s hungry stare, already loose and used and ready for him. He held himself back from burying his tongue in Steve’s hole, but just barely, letting out a low, hungry rumble instead.

Eddie couldn't move fast enough after that. He grappled with his belt, popped the button of his shorts and shoved them and his boxers out of the way enough for his cock to spring out without help. Then he stepped forward. Eddie let out a shuddering gasp when his aching cock met the searing heat of Steve’s taint and smeared precome along it, echoed when Steve sighed unsteadily as his head slipped up, up, up. Brushed over Steve’s hole once, twice, before catching on the rim.

“Please, Eddie,” Steve whined as he pushed back, and who was Eddie to deny such a pretty request?

He thrust forward and sank into Steve with a slick sound and such little resistance that Eddie’s jaw dropped open in a soundless moan, eyelids fluttering at the hot, wet clench of muscle around him. Another thrust and Steve groaned thickly, his head tilting back so Eddie could see how his bitten-red lips parted deliciously.

“Steve, you good? Please tell me you’re good. Fuck. I wanna fuck you so bad, you feel so good, hot, please Steve,” Eddie begged and rambled, his hands shaking with the need to grab and pull and take.

“If you don’t fucking start right now I’m leaving–”

That was all the permission Eddie needed.

He sank slowly past that ring of muscle and Eddie didn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed about the high-pitched, breathy whine that escaped him. Steve really had prepped, just loose enough and slick enough, but he still took his time. He wanted to savour this, the way he slid into Steve’s tight heat, how the feeling made his legs tremble and his stomach clench. Steve deserved the caution. At first, at least.

“Tell me,” Eddie demanded, needing to talk to distract from the sheer feeling of bliss of being enveloped by Steve. “Tell me about what you were thinking when you fucked yourself on that dildo.”

Steve’s head tilted back with a moan, his brows drawn together, and Eddie longed to bite and lick the strong column of his throat, but he didn’t want to get distracted. He wanted to know.

“I thought about your fingers, first. Those rings, fuck, they drive me nuts. Wish you’d worn them today.” Eddie gave his hips a firm squeeze, fingers spread wide to catch as much soft skin as he could, and grinned when he felt Steve clench around him and heard a stuttering breath.

“I’ll wear them next time, big boy. Wanna see how good they look when I’m jerking you off.” The appreciative groan caused by Eddie’s words was divine.

“God yes. Next time.”

Of course it was then that the phrase sunk in. Next time. Eddie hadn’t even noticed he’d said it but Steve repeating it had something other than raging hormones rising in his gut. He didn’t even have time to process the implication because Steve kept going, and started meeting Eddie’s thrusts with small movements of his own.

“Then I thought about your dick. Y’know, it’s so hard not to stare when you get out of the pool.”

“Did you?”

“Duh.” Steve shot a bitchy look over his shoulder. The usual power behind the look was lost in the bright red flush on his face. It completely fell apart when Eddie shifted and hit somewhere new, Steve’s mouth dropping open with a guttural noise that made Eddie’s cock twitch. “S-shit, it’s so perfect,” he said.

Steve’s head hung loose from his shoulders, forehead resting on the hood of the car, needy, lingering moans bouncing off the metal, breath and sweat condensing on it while Eddie inched further into him every time he slid out and pressed back in. With his palms on the Bimmer, Steve used the leverage to rock into Eddie, the muscles in his shoulders rippling under the white cotton tank starting to go translucent with sweat.

Watching his cock steadily disappear into Steve’s hole was addicting. He leaned back to get a better view of how he split Steve open between the grimy handprints he’d left on the globes of his ass, placed his hands there again and dug his nails in, making Steve’s hips jerk so that Eddie sank the rest of the way with a groan.

“God, Eddie,” Steve mumbled, “fuck, you feel so. So, uh, so good.”

“Y-you too, baby.” Eddie could barely form words. The tight pressure around his cock threatened to end things there and then, but Eddie closed his eyes and breathed, letting the fire and the urge and the want die down to a less immediate threat. But then he opened his eyes, saw how good they looked locked together, the way his darker thatch caught against the lighter brown hairs decorating Steve’s ass, both of them wet from the lube he’d pushed out of his hole, and jesus fucking christ he didn’t want, he needed.

Pulling out slowly and bracing Steve’s hips with a punishing grip was the only warning he gave before snapping forward with a loud grunt, the slap of damp skin a filthy echo in the garage. Steve cried out at the second hard thrust, choked off when Eddie kept going, his hips picking up speed.

“Good?” Eddie gasped. Nodding, Steve uttered a desperate, pleading ‘yes’ that made him fuck into Steve faster.

“Look so fucking hot, Steve,” he started babbling, his voice reedy with pleasure. “God, my handprints on you. Want ‘em to stain, be there forever.” Steve moaned and Eddie felt him tighten around his cock. “Like that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, fuck, I do, I do!”

Eddie leaned forward, draped himself across Steve’s back, and the angle was so fucking good, so much better, and he knew he’d started pounding into Steve’s prostate by the way his gasps had turned into a delicious mix of thin moans and choked out grunts. Fucking him into the car, Eddie let his hands roam. He rucked up the tank top, watched as the last of the dirt on his hands smeared over Steve’s perfect, scarred skin like loving and greedy claw marks. Finding a nipple, he pinched and squeezed until Steve writhed and squirmed.

Then Steve reached up. Buried a hand into Eddie’s hair, grabbed a handful and pulled.

“Oh fuck!” Eddie whined, his hips stuttering, the pain mixing with pleasure and zinging down his spine.

Steve chuckled, unsteady and breathy but so self-satisfied. “Thought about this… for so long, Eddie.”

“Thinkin’ about me so much, sweetheart. I’m honoured. What, hah, what did you think about?” he asked into Steve’s neck, lips catching on his skin, tempting him to lick, to bite. He did, groaning at the taste of salt.

“This. On your couch, by the pool, my bed, anywhere. Been desperate for it.” Steve pulled Eddie closer by his hair while he bounced back on Eddie’s cock as if to prove it. “Or, shit, bending you over that throne of yours and fucking you into it.” Eddie let out a pitchy whimper and Steve cooed in a way that could’ve been condescending but instead made Eddie melt. “But now, now that I know the kinds of fucking sounds you make–t-there, yes–I wanna take you apart. Slow a-and gentle until you’re a mess–”

He cut himself off with a broken moan. Eddie’s hips kept up their brutal pace with short, sharp, hard thrusts, the sound of their sweat-slicked fucking and and the jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle filling the room. His brain was nothing but static. The image was stuck in a loop like the end of a record left to spin. Eddie heard a desperate, animalistic whine and realised it came from himself.

“Close, baby?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded frantically, his lips dragging through beads of sweat dripping down his neck. He’d been holding it off, the fraying coil threatening to snap, his balls aching as they slapped into Steve’s asscheeks.

“You?” Eddie wanted to beg for Steve to be ready. 

“Getting there, just, don’t stop,” Steve gasped.

Twisting, Steve pulled Eddie down to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, fingers tangled in his damp curls. Their tongues met sloppily. Shared panting breaths like trying to inhale each other. Eddie’s thrusts were starting to falter. He was going to shake apart at this rate. Might just shatter when he comes, the pressure and heat and need too much and so fucking perfect.

“Steve,” Eddie whined, and Steve’s eyes met his. “So good to me, Stevie, sweetheart. Feel so wet, fuckin’ beautiful. Nee–mmh–need you, need you to come, please baby, please.”

“Touch me,” Steve said, practically commanded, and Eddie wasted no time.

Spitting in his hand and hoping it was enough, Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s dick, mixing his spit with the shocking amount of precome leaking from the head and spreading it over his length. Christ he was hung. Steve let out a relieved sigh, which Eddie swallowed, smashing their lips together again while fucking hard enough that he rocked Steve into his fist. Steve started making little ah, ah, ah noises. Next time–please let there actually be a next time–he’d worship this cock in the ways he wanted to, the ways Steve deserved, but for now he pumped him mercilessly. Then, then.

Steve seized, a full-body tremble ripping through him as he came, pulsing in Eddie’s hand as he tightened around Eddie’s cock and he was so fucking gorgeous, plush kissed-red lips open in a silent scream, so hot and tight and, and, and–

With a hoarse shout, Eddie came too, rutting helplessly into Steve as he rode out the sparking shockwaves that also had him shaking, the wet sounds between them even more obscene with Eddie’s come slicking the way. He finally stopped when Steve’s whimpers sounded a little too sharp. Breathing heavily, Eddie braced himself on the hood of the car on weak arms to keep himself from collapsing on top of Steve, only letting his head rest in the crook of Steve’s neck where he left one final, achingly gentle love bite.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed contentedly, leaning his head against Eddie’s, their damp hair sticking together.

“Gonna pull out now, Stevie, okay?” When Steve just nodded lazily, Eddie slowly pulled out, both of them groaning at the feeling. And he couldn’t keep himself from parting Steve’s cheeks to see his come dribble out a little, feeling a great deal of pride and greedy satisfaction at the sight.

“Bit late to ask, but you’re still clean, right? After all those tests for the bat bites?” Steve asked, grimacing when he stood up. He was the perfect picture of debauchery, only wearing his rumpled, practically see-through tank top, socks, and shoes, with his hair a wild mess and sweat still dripping from his forehead. The dirty fingerprints and red marks starting to bloom on his neck and hips were Eddie’s favourite part.

“Yep, only time I’ll ever thank those shady government fuckers for poking me with all those needles.” Eddie grinned at Steve’s tired, but fond, chuckle.

Steve looked at the car with heavy-lidded eyes, then did a double-take. “Shit, I gotta wash that off.” There, on the shiny burgundy hood of the Bimmer, was the white splash of Steve’s come, stark against the dark colour. Eddie started cackling and Steve complained, “Dude, shut up, it’ll ruin the paint!” 

“Gonna wash your car without these, Winnie the Pooh?” Eddie bent down to scoop up Steve’s shorts, dangling them from a finger. He laughed when Steve snatched them back with a glare that barely hid his begrudging smile. While he stepped back into them with a wince, Eddie said, “Interesting choice of clothing to work on your car, by the way.”

“Worked, though, didn’t it?”

“What?” Eddie’s eyes narrowed when Steve smiled innocently and shrugged before he wandered off to get a chamois towel and soap. And it clicked. “You planned this? You lured me in with slutty shorts?”

Tossing the towel up and catching it, Steve’s smile widened into something smug. “Yep.”

“Wait. Is the car even broken?”

Steve just offered Eddie another sly shrug and started wiping his come off the hood.

[ninelivesastrology]

Being feminine as a Black woman seems to be such a personal attack to non-Black woman. The more I think about it, the more I realize that Black women are incredibly feminine. I remember doing a rollerset on my hair and not stopping when my wrists ached because I was so determined to get it right. Even putting your hair into a bonnet at night is so feminine, so feminine as in, "I want to be ready to be beautiful tomorrow." Night routines have been a thing all my life.

When I got into make-up, I was obsessed with red lipstick, I swear nothing else looks good on me. I was the one giving beauty tips to all my non-Black "friends," so quick to share and not realizing they didn't have a clue about femininity... They didn't know how to style themselves. Like first of all, if you can rock straight cornrows, your face card is lethal as a BW. I love a patient fishtail braid on a white girl. It gives fairy vibes.

And I thought about how quick non-Black women were to get insecure and spiteful around me because I did myself up. Or how they would scoff at me seeing my hair tucked under a bonnet. I never got it because... the thought of being non-Black and waking up to mad tangles in my hair from sleeping on it would piss me off, but that's just me, do you.

I'll be so real, this white girl asked to help flat iron the back of my head, like the nape of my neck and she turned the flat iron all the way up to its highest setting and damaged my hair. I smelled my hair fucking burning and it did not revert back. I don't let anybody touch my hair, but that has always pissed women off. Like in my opinion, anybody wanting to play in my hair was wanting to play with me.

Looking back, I really triggered them. Like badly.

My child is rocking my face and earlier this year, my husband's deadbeat mother was begging for more pictures and this woman hates me, on God. My child has lighter skin than me and it just added more proof that so much of her vitriol and ire towards me is racially charged. Also, you can't trust people who don't like you, but want to be near your child who resembles you because they're going to take out all of their hatred on your child. Children always pay.

All I ever hear is how cute my kid is and how we're twins, like people stopping and gushing. My genetics won, I don't care. My child is more Black than anything else in isolation.

Femininity and Blackness doesn't mix in these folks' mind. It's a personal attack to be beautiful, to be desired, to be complimented. We're not supposed to be feminine because it makes them uncomfortable to see us as attractive. Really weird to me because I don't react well to people being sexually attracted to me anyway.

I understand why Black trans women experience so much hatred when I look at the situation from this lens and I don't say that to be insensitive, but being Black and expressing any type of femininity is met with adversity. "Fellas, is it gay to get a pedicu—" Come on. And men need pedicures.

This world is dominated by beauty. Beauty causes visibility and Black women are not supposed to be visible.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A special sort of craving 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: A stranger appears at your cafe and leaves you unsettled.

Part of the Backwood AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The quiet one goes out with another tray for the lively partygoers. You’ve permitted Katherine to join the furor as she was much too distracted to be of any true help. As it is, you’re about to send your second helper home to get her out of the frenzy. She’s ill-equipped for it and you can handle things just fine on your own. 

As you wait for her to return, you continue to clear and stack the trays. You’re certain Frigga won’t mind if you leave them and return to pick them up tomorrow. Little good you’re doing here as Thor sows the last of his wild oats. Yet, you hardly think a number is going to change much. 

The door swings open and you look up, expecting that quiet girl and her doleful eyes. Its not her. Shit. Of course he’s there. 

“Ah, there you are, sweetie pie,” Lloyd calls with a keen smirk at his lazy pun. “I’ve been looking for you all night.” 

“I’m working,” you continue your work, setting a stack on the cart. “Go, enjoy the party--” 

“I didn’t come to deal with the drunken idiot,” he insists as he looms on the other side of the able, “I came for the dessert.” 

“Those aren’t out yet, you’ll have to wait,” you ignore him for your work.  

You can sense him as he inches towards the corner of the big metal table. You try not to react. It’s exactly what he’s looking for. You might not know much of city folk but you have a good idea. You don’t want to feed his ego, he might just hurt himself if it inflates any bigger. 

“I’m not talking about cake, well, not like that,” he snickers as he comes closer and closer. 

“Ew, would you not? I really don’t have time--” you begin as you slice berries. 

“Sure ya do. Everyone’s off their head. They don’t care about your shortcake, sweetheart.” 

“Not interested, for the last time--” 

He reaches for you and you turn, pointing the paring knife at him. His eye glints and he tilts his head. He takes a deep breath and lets out a sinister laugh. 

“Don’t be stupid. You shouldn’t pull a knife unless you’re prepared to use it,” his face turns sober and his brow arches. You can see along the edge of your vision how his fingers twitch, “should put that away before you cut yourself.” 

“Leave me alone,” you force out, heart racing. “I don’t know how they do it in the city but when someone says no, the answer is--” 

“Boring,” he swipes at your hand and knocks the knife from it. The blade bounces off the table and skitters over to the other side, falling onto the floor. 

In a moment, he has you in his grip; one hand on the back of your skull, the other on your jaw. You whimper and clutch at his wrists. You grit your teeth and stomp around blindly, trying to crush his toes. 

“Hey, get the hell off of me!” You hiss as he squeezes enough to make your head throb. 

“What you don’t understand, sweet cheeks,” he walks you backwards, “is that in the city, we take what we want,” he continues on, keeping you on your heels, “I want the rest of that cherry pie, baby.” 

“No, urgh, stop,” you scratch and slap at him helplessly as he marches you around the fridge, “let go--” 

“Shh, baby, it don’t gotta be bad,” he coaxes as he takes you through a doorway, “in fact, I wanna make it real good for you.” He pokes out his tongue and lewdly licks along the bristle of his mustache, “I bet you’re sweet. Taste like sugar... melt like it too, won’t you?” 

“N-no,” you grunt as he kicks the door to the storage room closed, “Lloyd, I’ll scream--” 

“Listen, baby, shhhh,” he hushes you again, “you hear that?” 

Your eyes round as you stare at him. He pushes you against a shelf as you listen. You can hear the music, the voices, and the sheer chaos brewing on the other side of the walls. A scream breaks out and is met only by raucous laughter. He presses his thumb behind your jaw until you squirm. 

“Think they’ll come find you? If they do, you think they’ll find you before I got your cherry?” 

“Get--” you wisp as you writhe and claw helplessly. “Stop, no--” 

He pushes his knee between both of yours. He keeps his hand around your jaw as he crosses his other arm across your chest. He pins you to the shelf as it rattles. He leans into you until your bones ache and lets his hand trail away from your chin. 

“Just relax,” he snarls, “it’ll be good if you just let it happen,” he feels along the side of your apron and dips his hand beneath. His fingertips dance along the top of your pants as you wriggle and gnash your teeth, “I don’t usually like to play with my food but you need a little extra kneading, baby.” 

He shoves his hand down the front of your pants, your chest straining against his weight. Your ribs ache and your head swims. The walls seems to slant around you as the futility paralyses you.  

His forearm draws your waistband so tie it cuts into you. The apron string snaps, then the button of your fly. He angles his hand against your vee as you try to close your knees against his. He growls and presses against the front of your panties, rubbing heat through fabric as you whine. 

“Trust me when I say the stache feels better,” he winks, “but you’re gonna have to earn that, baby face,” he grins and curls his fingers under, covering your clit with his thumb as he uses his index to edge aside your panties.  

He glides against your folds and along your entrance, letting out a dramatic gasp, “oh no, sweetie pie,” he flicks his finger through your slickness and you squirm, “you’re fucking wet.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, “you can drop the act already ‘cause we both know you’re gonna love this,” he pokes at your entrance until he dips inside, “you’re never gonna forget the way you feel right fucking now.” 

[musings-of-a-rose]

I Don't Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) - Chapter 6

Pairing: Benny Miller x wife!reader nicknamed “Juni”

Word Count: 3500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This is it, folks! I had some little short story ideas for this fic. Maybe I’ll write them one day if people want. HUGE shoutout to @laurfilijames for listening to me babble about this fic. I hope you enjoy your husband Will! And also to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to my crazy messages about a world she’s not terribly familiar with. I hope you enjoy your guest spot!  This is not beta’d - we yeet and post.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

I Don’t Want to See Tomorrow (Unless I See It With You) series masterlist

My eyes blink, trying to focus as I will them to open, my head spinning and aching at the back from whatever hit me. I bring my hand to the back of my head and feel a knot, but no blood. Or at least it’s dried. I hope that’s a good thing. 

The floor beneath me is hard and dirty, which isn’t out of the norm, but a memory stirs at the back of my mind, pulling at the edges of memory.

“And they said Raiders can’t be sneaky!”

My eyes finally focus and I try to sit up, my head lightly scraping against a hard surface. I feel above me a hard roof, my fingers scrambling to try and find an edge. But then my eyes land on the bars in front of me and I realize - I’m in a cage. On all fours, I move around and finally find the door, which of course is firmly locked. I grip the bars, squeezing them tight before I shake the door gently. It doesn’t budge. 

Part of me wants to scream and yell, but I’ve seen enough of those old movies to know that it won’t do me any good. No one will let me out or I wouldn’t be in here to begin with. I take a look around the dingy, poorly-lit room and see no one. Just half broken furniture and some rusty shelves with various parts of metal, some canned foods, and…is that a board game? It’s not until I see the needle full of Jet (a drug) on the table that I know who took me for certain. My memory was not failing me. 

Raiders.

I have no idea why they would take me, but I do know that I’m fucked. It does give me a little hope that they haven’t done anything yet. Maybe they’re waiting for me to wake up….

I quickly lay back down, curling into the same position I had woken from. I keep my eyes open, studying my prison for as long as I can. But when I hear the footsteps growing closer, I close them gently, hoping that I can still look like I’m asleep. Heavy footsteps shuffle in, 2 sets as far as I can hear. I don’t dare open my eyes.

“Still out?” a deep voice asks.

“Seems so.” The bars of my cage rattle as the second man shakes the cage. I don’t move. “Yeah. I’d say she is.”

The first man groans. “I wish she’d wake up. Maybe the boss would let us torture her a bit while we’re waiting on Nightshade.”

Benny. Of course. That’s why they took me. Benny missed several drop offs and he’d assumed they would think he was dead. Apparently, he thought wrong.

“Yeah but the boss said no touching. That we’re waitin’ on what’s owed us. And Nightshade won’t be nice if we hurt what’s his.”

Some more grumbling from the first man before something clanks on the floor next to the bars of my cage and they shuffle out. I wait a few minutes before moving, making sure no one else was coming. When nothing happens, I crack an eye open and scan the area. A can of Pork N’ Beans sits next to the cage, slightly open with what I’m assuming is a fork sticking out of it. Next to it is a bottle of questionable at best water. My throat is terribly dry and my stomach betrays me with a low grumble at the sight of the can. I doubt they’re going to poison me, as they could’ve killed me at any time. That’s the Raider way. Same goes for drugging. They could’ve put a line in my or anything while I was out but they didn’t. They need me alive. 

I take a very small sip of water and nibble from the can, making sure to place them back where they had been left, just in case they return quickly. They would think I was still out. But no one comes back and as the time goes on to what may be night, I start to wonder if they’ll come back. Maybe I’ll be left to die in this crate. I decide to chance another couple nibbles and sips, gently placing the containers back. 

A few hours later, I hear another set of footsteps coming closer. I get back in my fake sleeping position, listening to whomever was shuffling in. Definitely different than the first 2 people. These steps are more confident, like they know what they’re doing. I hear them stop by the cage door, standing there for several moments before heading over to the couch and slumping down on it.  

“I know you’re awake.”

Fuck. Well, no use pretending. I open my eyes and sit up as best as I can, staring at the man on the couch. He’s definitely a Raider, the patchy clothes and scars littering his shirtless body are a big indicator. As is the shoulder plate armor with giant spikes coming from it. He’s got a scar across his cheek and a tattoo of some kind of marking around his eyes. He scratches at the short mohawk on his head, plopping down another piece of armor from his body on the makeshift coffee table in front of him. 

“I’m Draven. Who are you to Nightshade?”

Doesn’t even ask my name. Rude.

“Juni.”

“What’s a Juni?”

I scoff. “My name. Since you didn’t ask.”

He cocks his head slightly. “I’m shocked you told me. I thought you’d have told me to fuck off.”

I nod. “Thought about it.”

His eyebrows raise. “And?”

I shrug. “I figured it wouldn’t get me anywhere.”

He laughs. “Logical. I like that. And funny. No wonder Nightshade keeps you close. Well….most times anyway.”

I cross my arms, willing my nerves to calm down. “What do you want with him?” 

“Ain’t you gonna ask me why you’re here?”

I gesture vaguely. “As a sort of bait or something from Nightshade, I assume.”

He nods. “Or something.” He glances down at the can and jar of water. “You can eat and drink. It’s not poisoned. Water might not be the cleanest but it’s what we got. We never got the parts to fix our purifier.”

I study him for a moment, his dark eyes looking more intense surrounded by the markings. I decide he’s telling the truth and reach for the bottle, taking several sips before setting it to the side and taking a few bites of the beans, my eyes never leaving Draven. He watches me finish eating before shifting on the couch to lay down, tossing his arm over his forehead.

“You don’t have to worry about my people hurtin’ you. I forbid it. As long as you’re cooperative.”

Is that supposed to be comforting? “How long am I going to be here?”

“Just waiting on your boss, hon.”

Boss? Keeps me close? It dawns on me that Draven must think I’m Nightshade’s property. He has no clue how deep Benny’s love for me is. He may not even think that Benny will come for me, but decided to take the chance. 

Draven yawns loudly. “I figure I have nothing to lose. On one hand, if he shows, I’ll be able to get what’s ours. On the other, if he doesn’t think you’re worth it, I get a pretty girl to keep all to myself. Either way, I win.”

I feel the color drain from my face, even though I kind of figured that it wouldn’t end well for me if Benny didn’t show. Question is, how soon will he make it here? Will it be in time?

On the 3rd day in my cage, I’m wakened by various yells and whoops, Draven quickly sitting up on the couch. He looks over at me, a sickly sweet smile spreading across his face as the commotion grows louder.

“Bet that’s your boss.”

The door flies open and a Raider walks in, chest heaving from excitement. “It’s him. It’s The Nightshade!”

Before I can think, my cage door is ripped open and the Raider grips my ankle, dragging me across the cage floor. I try to kick out, but he pins me, Draven coming over to calmly tie my hands behind my back. I knew it wouldn’t work, trying to escape, but I had to give it a shot. Draven hauls me up, gripping the binds at my wrists as he leans in to my ear.

“Let’s go say hi.”

He grips the binds tight, the rope digging further into my skin as he pulls me along, pushing his way through a crowd of people all staring at something on the ground. We break through the crowd and I have to choke back a cry. On the ground is Benny, one Raider on either side of him hauling him up, his arms outstretched on either side. His lip is busted and he spits a glob of blood out on the ground, looking up at Draven. 

“Nightshade. You’re alive.”

Benny pulls a little at each Raider but they hold strong. “I am.”

Draven chuckles, deep in his chest. “And here we thought you were dead. After all, you stopped deliverin’ what was agreed upon.”

“You think I’d go back on a deal?”

Draven watches him for a moment. “I’m not sure. Why don’t you tell your partner here where the load is, then.” Draven yanks me from behind him, pulling me around front and holding me to his body. My eyes find Benny’s and, even though we are not safe by any means, I take comfort from his gaze, a brief flicker of concern before rage sets in, that darkness enveloping his face.

“You let her go and we can talk.”

Draven does that chuckle again. “Now why would I let my insurance go? She’s my guarantee that you’ll do as I say.”

Benny’s jaw clenches. He hates this. I can’t say I’m too fond of it either.

“I’ll bring you what’s owed.”

“That you will,” Draven smiles down at him. “Maybe we’ll start with her. She has such smoothe skin.” He brushes the backside of a crooked finger down my cheek and I jerk my head away from him as his finger continues to trace a path down my neck.

It’s as if I’m watching things happen in slow motion. Benny jerks his arms once, no doubt the enhancements he’s received taking over as both Raiders go flying. He stands, pulling guns from each of the Raiders and aiming at the ones currently charging him. He always hits a mark, but there’s so many of them. They all rush him, the sound of clashing metal and gunfire deafening in the small circle. But then battle cries and screams sound from the opposite side and the Raiders scatter slightly as men clad in umpire gear and a familiar brown pointed hat come charging in. The Minutemen and Diamond City have arrived, the Raiders momentarily surprised by their abrupt appearance. 

This is so much faster than the films. But while they started strong, the Raiders are more willing to take a life and they start to overpower the Minutemen and Diamond City and it sounds like they’re losing. And Fast. Draven pulls me tighter to him and I feel a knife being pressed to my side, his heavy breathing in my ear warm, fanning down my neck. And then he bursts from the crowd, blood spattered across his face and clothes, chest heaving.

Benny! 

He takes a step forward, but then the ground shakes, a deafening roar sounding loud over the sounds of fighting as a giant dinosaur looking thing comes stomping into view. It’s tall, at least 20 feet tall, curved horns adorning it’s face, scaly skin, standing on 2 legs, 2 long arms with sharp claw-like fingers at the end. And it hits me - this must be a Deathclaw.

“Fuck!” Draven yells from behind me, yanking me along with him as everyone starts running, some people trying to shoot the thing and take it down. We lose Benny in our escape, and honestly, I’m too terrified to try and slow him down. We have to get away from that thing!

As the sounds of the deathclaw and fighting start to fade a little, a shot bounces off the ground next to us. Draven clutches me to him and spins, the knife poking my side again and I gasp at the pain. My hands grip the arm he has pinned across my chest, frantically turning me side to side to find the shooter. But he doesn’t have to look long as Benny appears from nowhere, his dark jacket flapping in the breeze. He aims his pistol at Draven. 

“Just give her to me and I’ll get you what’s owed. Then I’m out.”

Draven squeezes me a little tighter. “She must be more important to you than I thought for you to bring the literal cavalry in.”

Benny shrugs, but I know it’s for show. I can see the tension in his body, in the small movements of his face that I’m so attuned to. “Hard to find good help.”

“Mmm. Well, if she’s not so important, maybe I’ll just keep her. Trade you for her.”

Benny sighs. “Don’t make me kill you, Draven. You’re smarter than all those other Raiders.”

“You’re right. Maybe I’ll just keep her and kill you. Best of both worlds.”

If I hadn’t been staring at his face, I would’ve missed the nearly imperceptible glance Benny gave me, his eyes dropping ever so slightly before snapping back to Draven, who had been rambling on about the horrible things he’d do to me. Slowly, I loosen my grip on Draven’s arm, lowering my own to my sides. I try to tell Benny I love him and trust him with my gaze but I don’t know if he saw it. 

“-and then, only when I’m done with her, I’ll toss her to my-”

BANG!

A loud gunshot rings out, my own voice screaming with it. Draven drops to the floor, instantly dead with a bullet in between his eyes. Benny lowers his gun and runs to me, holding me to him.

“Hey, sshh hey it’s me. You’re ok, Juni. I’ve got you.”

My breathing starts to shorten and I start gasping for breath a little. “Benny?”

He pulls back and looks at me, his eyes wide with fear. They start to rake over my body, but I know where it is. I reach my side and pull my fingers back, blood covering them. 

“No! Fuck!” Benny grabs me as I slump, my limbs already going cold. He must have hit an organ.

“I l-love y-you, Ben..Benny,” I say, gasping for breath.

Benny holds me, but before he can reply, that same screech comes bellowing at us. Benny turns his head, staring at the deathclaw as it charges us. He turns back to me and holds me tighter, trying to shield me from whatever violent attack was about to happen.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’m so sorry, Juni. I love you.”

His tears splash on my face, joining my own. It may be because I’m dying, but I hear what sounds like a vertibird (a sort of helicopter) propeller. And machine gun fire, the screaming from the deathclaw indicating it had been hit. Multiple times. Benny tears his face from mine, looking through the dust at the deathclaw, who was falling on his side, sliding across the dirt, dead.

“Hey! Help! Get a stimpak!” Benny screams from somewhere above me, one of his arms leaving me to wave. 

I look up at the sky and I see it then, a large vertibird descending upon us, someone in power armor hopping out. I must be dying because I swear I see Frankie in the pilot’s chair as the stomping from the power armor gets closer. 

“Here! Stimpak now!” Benny yells and the stomps come closer as my eyes start fluttering. The last thing I see before I pass out is Santi’s face appearing from behind the power armor helmet, leaning over me as Benny comes into view, a pinch in my side before I pass out.

Sunlight streams across my face, the warmth and brightness rousing me from sleep. I blink, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light. As my vision acclimates, I look around the room I’m in. It’s plain, medical. Like a military med tent. I feel a weight on my hand and look down to see Benny, asleep on said hand. His face is turned towards me and I take advantage of the quiet to study his face. It’s peaceful in sleep, the white of his scars even seems subdued. And I’m struck again by how handsome he is and just how lucky I am that he loves me back. I reach over and                                    brush back some hair from his face as he stirs beneath my touch. His eyes open and he finds mine already watching him. He sits up, taking my hand in his.

“You’re awake! How do you feel?”

How do I feel? “A little sore but alive. What happened?”

Benny cups my face and leans towards me, kissing my gently before pulling back, giving me a small smile. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you too.”

He sits back and takes my hand again. “Draven stabbed you. There was so much blood. You were…” he swallows hard and I squeeze his hand in reassurance. “You were dying. And then that deathclaw found us. He was charging and I thought..well I thought if you were dying, then I’d go with you. I was going to protect you as best I could. But then Frankie and Santi showed up and mowed that fucker down.”

“So that was Frankie and Santi? For real?”

He nods. “Yeah! I wasn’t sure they even got my message but apparently they did. Santi got to you just in time. He jammed a stimpak in your side, but you had passed out. We weren’t sure the stimpak would work in time.” He takes a deep breath. “But you did. Once it seemed you were stable enough, we loaded you up and they took us back to base. We’re in a Brotherhood med tent right now.”

“And the Raiders? Won’t they retaliate?”

Benny chuckles. “Those knuckleheads? The only one of them that had half a brain cell was Draven and he’s dead. The others? Most of them died during the fight. Maybe a few survived but we won’t see anything from them.” We sit in silence for a moment before his eyes drop from mine. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you.”

I cup his face. “What? No, Benny you did what you could. You couldn’t just come running in. We wouldn’t have made it out alive.”

Benny laughs. “That’s exactly what Will and Tom said. They said you’d kill me yourself for coming in without a plan.”

“And they were right.”

“Tom gathered up all the Diamond City guards and Lauren got in touch with your Minutemen. They came as quick as they could. I’ve never seen Preston that mad. Anyway, you saw what happened.”

My mind flashes back to the battle and I shake my head. “When can we leave?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

I smile at him. “Let’s go home.”

1 year later…

“And then I mowed that yao gui (mutated bear) down!” Santi boasts.

Frankie snorts. “Yeah but it took you a week to scrub your shit from the inside of that power armor!”

We all laugh as Santi throws an empty Pork ‘N Beans can at Frankie’s head. “Pendejo. How many yao guis have you stood in front of?” They bicker like brothers back and forth for another few minutes, eventually walking back towards the kitchen to get more food. 

Benny and I had returned to Sanctuary Hills, bringing Santi and Frankie with us. They helped refortify the perimeter and took turns on watch. They left for a run to Diamond City and came back a month later with Will and Lauren, Tom and Molly opting to stay behind in Diamond City. Tom was too connected with his bar and Molly and the kids loved it there. But what surprised us most was that Santi brought back with him a girl, Jamie, who fit right in the moment she came inside the gates. 

Benny comes to stand next to me, draping his arm around my shoulders. He tips my chin to him with his pointer finger and kisses me, deepening it momentarily before pulling back. He smiles and rubs his nose against mine before resting his head on mine. 

As I feel Benny next to me and look out at all of our friends, my heart fills with happiness and gratitude that we all somehow managed to make it, together, past the end of the world. And that we would be able to survive whatever this wasteland throws our way.

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk  

[thatliftgirl]

B0osting update #3!

Ok so first of all, there will be no haul this weekend bc I extended the semester and I got exams this upcoming week (,:

Anyway:

On P0shmark I just sold my first clothing items today- a cashmere sweater for a profit of $85 and another sweater for $20 profit. I’ll be shipping those tomorrow.

As for èbày- holy shit you guys it’s insane! I’m actually shutting it down for a little while because I can’t keep up with the orders. Today I had to pack and ship 12 packages (I failed, I only got five out lol) and I got I believe 7 or 8 new orders today. Total profit of $750 on makeup alone.

When it comes to what sells, I’ve noticed a few patterns but I haven’t sold quite enough yet to be sure they’re consistent. I originally only listed eyeshadow palettes and a few other things here and there because I assumed most people wouldn’t want the other stuff bc it’s harder to return and to know if it’s your color. But it turns out, lip stuff sells really well- and not the Dior stuff either, it’s mostly the mid-range brands because people want those anyway and if your listing is the lowest price, they go for it. My top lip sales have been Laura Mercier and Ole Henriksen.

Also, I originally thought that I could put the ideal price as the buy it now price and just turn offers on and I’d get all the business I would get if it were a lower buy it now price- but it turns out a lot of people are actually pretty shy (lol me too) and they simply won’t make an offer no matter what, so I’ve lowered some prices for the socially anxious folks and those listings sold.

Now moving on to the shadows and palettes- most of my sales have been one or two items, but surprisingly I’ve had buyers who bought 8 or 9 items, usually palettes, at once. One poor girl begged me to hold onto stuff for her until she gets her paycheck, which made me feel kinda bad because girl why are you spending your obviously very little money on makeup?? But hey maybe she’s in high school or smth, idk. At first I assumed they were reselling (which, I mean, I can’t really complain cause I got it for free 🤷‍♀️), but it kind of seems like they’re just foreigners in big cities trying to look rich lol. Each time it’s a Chinese name and it’s from nice areas of L.A. Idk I could be wrong, but I think some people just want a lot of makeup I guess. Anyway, my most popular items were rare or limited edition (I didn’t even know they were but thankfully èbay told me haha). Dior limited editions went super fast for $75 each, and people LOVE YSL stuff but only in the common colors, they don’t want couture clutches in the less popular colors. I learned I have to price rarer colors for less sometimes, not more, because people search for the shade they want. All my Pat McGrath and Anastasia palettes have sold. I have a ton of Dior and Lancôme and Clinique in stock as you guys know- like probably at least 30 palettes from each brand. Quite a few Dior palettes have sold, but not a single Lancôme or Clinique product has- except for one individual eye shadow shade from Lancôme- no matter how low the price. We’ll see if that keeps up. Surprisingly again, Dior lip products and blush are simply not popular.

I’ve been packing them really nicely and throwing in a nail polish in each one and a lip balm in the big orders, but nothing has arrived at its destination yet so I’m just hoping I get good reviews! Also like an idiot I lied about my age on eBay so I’m scared my money will go out the window because it’s on hold while they verify my SSN.. I really hope not /:

Oh and I did start an èbay for my clothes, but I just listed six things to kind of gauge how it goes. So far I just got one comment on an item asking for measurements, but idk how to take those (,: same thing happened on p0shmark- if anybody knows pls help a girl out and hmu 🥲

That’s all I’ve got, and of course these are just my observations, they might not be completely accurate since I’m just starting out, but I’m hoping these updates will be helpful for some of you thinking of b0osting on these platforms. If anyone has any questions, just wants to chat, or wants me to nab smth for them even- hmu, I’m always happy to chat (:

[cmncisspnandmore]

One Night Stand; Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader

Warnings: OOC Simon (kinda?), fluff, alcohol, pregancy, talks of abortion, vomiting,

Summary: Its been 3 months since your night in the sheets with Simon and your life just got a whole lot more complicated.

A/N: I know, I know. okay. I get it. Not everyone like the pregnancy trope, so if you dont im sorry. If i lose some readers for this then im sad to see you go but i hope to see you in future writings i do for the COD men. This is not going to be like other pregnancy tropes that get all mushy and fluffy and light after. This story will be filled with dark themes coming in later chapters that i hope will keep people interseted. We all know Simon Riley's life cant be easy, so if you're still here after this part. Buckle up. Its a wild ride.

Word Count: 5,015

New to the Series? Catch up here: Part 1, Part 2

The bar looked exactly the same as it did three months ago. The music wasn't as loud, but that was probably because it was still early. Many people were still at work at 5pm on a Thursday.

Not you, you had found a job working online, writing articles for business pages. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world but it paid well, and it occupied most of your time. An added bonus of not leaving for work was you never had to worry about coming home from the office to find someone on your couch. You shake your head trying to clear the thoughts. You weren't even 100% sure why you were here, the chances that Soap even knew Simon were slim. But he had said he knew almost everyone that came to the bar. 

So there was a chance.

One you couldn't pass up, you had to at least try.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, you walk into the bar. The dim lights reflect off the shiny tables. A few people sit at them, watching a replay of a game on tv. You glance around behind the bar, looking for the familiar mohawk. 

It pops up from behind the bar towards the end, Soap holds a bin of limes in his arms. He sets the bin down on the shiny black countertop, pulling a small cutting board out from the top of the bin and a knife. He slices a lime in half as you slide into the seat in front of him. His blue eyes meet yours and a smile breaks out on his face. 

“Lass! Good to see ya, you disappeared on me the last time ye were here!” He smiles, turning the lime and cutting it again. 

“Sorry about that, I needed to clear my head, I hope I didn't upset you,” you smile back, placing your hands on the bar.

“Nay, what can I get for ye? Vodka Soda?” he asks, setting the knife down as he turns towards the shelves of alcohol behind him.

“Uh, actually, can I just have water instead?” You bite your bottom lip and Soap nods, grabbing a glass and filling it. He slides the glass of water in front of you, and you stare down into it. 

“Everything okay?” he asks, looking at you with one raised eyebrow. 

“Oh yeah, I'm fine. Early day tomorrow ya know? Don't want to be hung over is all.”

“Aye i get that, so what brings you here?” Soap leans his forearms against the bar, “Miss me?” He smiles.

You can't help but roll your eyes, “Oh totally,” you laugh.

“I knew it, not many women can resist the MacTavish charm,” Soap grins, he stands back up and picks up the knife. He cuts each lime into wedges before putting them in the bin, you reach over grabbing one from the cutting board and squeeze it into your water. 

“Aye! Paw off,” Soap smiles, shaking the knife at you. A smile of your own breaks out on your lips as you watch him. 

“You have plenty to spare, plus someone around here has to keep you busy.”

“I assure you Lass, the folk around here keep me plenty busy,” Soap points over your shoulder where Price and Gaz are walking in. They’re deep in a conversation as they make their way over to where you are sitting in front of Soap. 

Kyle is the first to notice you, and he pauses looking at you over. “Y/n, it's good to see you again, not going to lie. I was kinda sad you left without a goodbye last time,” Gaz takes the seat on the left.

“Sorry about that, I promise to say bye this time. I don’t want to bruise your ego,” You say over the rim of your glass. 

“Good, I don't think I can hear him wallow about it anymore,” Price says as he sits in the stool on your right. “So what do you think of London? Everything you could’ve imagined?”

“It’s alright… It rains a lot more than I'm used to, but it's not too bad. Definitely different from the small town I'm from,” you look over at him. He gives you a small smile, and turns towards Soap. 

“Soap, we ship out tomorrow morning, be ready at 0600 hours,” Price grunts as Soap puts the last lime into the bin. 

“Yes sir,” Soap turns towards the bottles of liquor on the shelf and grabs a bottle of bourbon. He sets it down on the counter with a soft thud, he then grabs two glasses for them, pouring each man two fingers. He slides the glasses across the bar to them, the acidic smell of the bourbon makes your stomach turn. Saliva pools in your mouth as you desperately try to swallow. 

“Oh uh, Soap, I wanted to ask if you knew someone actually,” You take a sip of water, your eyes following him as he moves behind the bar. Soaps bright blue eyes look over at you, his brows furrowed together. 

“I might,” he smiles. A loud noise from behind you startles you, and a drunken man tumbles into the back of your stool. His drink spilling down your back as he leans against the back of the barstool, the smell of the alcohol hits your nose. 

“Oops,” the drunken man mumbles, his breath wafting over your face.

Your stomach rolls, as Price and Gaz help the man up. Gaz and Price half drag him away from you as he continues to mumble about his drink. Gaz says something and pats him on the chest as they pull him to the door. You stand from the chair, the fabric of your coat and shirt now sticking to you. Nausea rolls through you as you try to breathe through your mouth. 

“You alright lass? You look a little green,” Soap is now standing in front of you, a clean bar towel in his hands. He gently pats the towel against your soaked shirt and coat trying to soak up some of the liquid that's seeping into your skin. 

You can't answer, if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll throw up so you push past Soap and hurry towards the bathroom. Soap follows behind you, pausing at the door to the women's room. You shove open one of the stall doors and drop to your knees. The cold tiles bite through the fabric of your jeans, as the contents of your stomach is emptied into the porcelain bowl. It takes you several minutes to stop dry heaving, your stomach clenching painfully with each contraction of your abs. When the feeling settles you stand, before rinsing your mouth out with some water from the tap. You grab a paper towel, wiping your hands and mouth.

“You alright in there?” Soap calls through the door, his voice laced with concern. 

“Yeah..” you call back, tossing the paper towel into the bin and pulling open the door, “Sorry about that.” You shove your hands into your pockets as you come face to face with Soap. His eyebrows knit together in worry as he looks over you, one hand hovers in the air as if hes going back and forth on if he should touch you or not.

“You su-” he pauses looking over your shoulder, his eyes widened slightly.

“MacTavish, the bar can't run itself…” A familiar voice rumbles, the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Memories of your night 3 months ago rushes back, that same voice that murmured praise to you as he pounded into you. 

You whip around, at the end of the hall stands Simon, his black hoodie pulled up over his head, his mouth and nose covered by a skull print face mask. His brown eyes widen slightly as he sees you. “Y/n…” he whispers. 

“You two know each other?” Soap muses from behind me, his hands coming to rest on my shoulder as he walks by. An uncomfortable silence settles over the hallway and Soap slips by, muttering “I’ll leave you two alone…” 

Simon takes a few steps towards you, and it seems like he takes up the whole hallway. You look up as he towers over you, his face is unreadable, he lifts a hand, brushing his fingertips across your cheek. It sends electricity skittering across your skin, your breath catches in your throat.

Over the past 3 months you have tried to forget about the man whose brown eyes haunted your dreams. Whose touch caused your mind to go blank. Like someone wiping a harddrive. But there was no forgetting, not anymore. He was here in front of you, sure, you had come to ask Soap if he knew him. But you hadn't expected to run into him tonight. You still had no idea what you were going to say to him. How do you justify just leaving his house at 3am?

“You could've said goodbye, you know… You didn't have to sneak out and call an Uber at 3am..” Simon whispers, and guilt slams into you. He knew you left. He wasn't asleep like you thought…

“I-I..” you stumble over your words, unsure what to say. There wasn't anything you could say really. You knew you should’ve just waited, dealt with the awkward small talk. Maybe even exchange numbers you would never plan on using. But nope.

Instead you fled. Just like you fled after your sister's funeral.

At least you were consistent. 

“I’m not upset, I understand.” Simon adds after a moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets of his hoodie. 

“Simon.. I.. I’m sorry.. I’ve been going through a lot. And i didnt .. I couldn't face you after that. Not, not that you did anything wrong. Because you didn't! I mean you were great. I just,” You run a hand through your hair. “God, this is not how I wanted this to go.” 

“Breathe. Love, breathe.” Simons hands cup your face and you freeze. “It’s okay, like I said I'm not upset with you,” he lets his hands drop, and you nod. 

“I didn't know you knew Soap,” He muses, leaning against the wall. You shuffle your feet, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah… I met him the same night I met you… You know him too, yeah?” 

“Soap, Gaz, Price and I all serve together,” Simon rubs the back of his neck with his hand, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh! I don't know how I didn't pick up that you were military,” You bite your lip looking down at his black boots. 

“We didn't exactly get to know each other very much that night..” Simon says, and a small blush creeps up your cheeks at the mention of your night together. “So what brings you here tonight?” Simon asks.

The familiar feeling of nausea swirls in your stomach again, you clench your fists, nails biting into your palm. Something you have come to do a lot over the past few months. “I came here to ask about you, actually. I needed to talk to you..” You whisper, and Simon's brows furrow.

“Well you found me.. What did you need to talk about?” He asks, as you chew your bottom lip. Anxiety creeps into your chest, wrapping itself around your lungs like an icy hand. The air rushes from your lungs, your eyes burning with tears.

 How the hell could you turn this man's life upside down?

“Hey, hey,” Simon whispers, his large hands clasp your shoulders steadying you. The world feels a million miles away, like you were floating out in space untethered. Everything sounds muffled, and the lights are suddenly too bright in the hallway. You raise your shaky hands, running them through your hair. A large hand guides you down the hall a little until the bitter cold air of winter in London hits you. You gasp, your lungs filling with the cold air, goosebumps break out along your heated skin. 

The world slowly comes back into focus, soft murmuring in your ear as large arms wrap around your middle holding you against a solid chest. “Breathe, you’re alright, you’re okay… Just breathe, Love.” Simon murmurs into your ear. Tears fall from your eyes, trails of hot tears stream down your cold cheeks. 

“I’m sorry I left that night…” you gasp in between sobs, “and i am so sorry im going to say this…” You whisper the last part. At first you aren't sure Simon heard you but after a moment he turns you around. His arms are still around you as he looks down at you, your teeth starting to chatter from emotion and the wind.

“Whatever you have to say can't be that bad, love. Did you find out you had some like STI or something? Do I need to get tested?” He asks, his brown eyes searching your tear stained face. His hands moving up and down your body in an attempt to warm you up and comfort you at the same time.

You shake your head, if only an STI was the least of your problems. “N-no, i didn't give you anything like that…” you choke out.

Simon watches you as you stand face to face with him in the same alley you met him in 3 months ago. Although this time you’re different, instead of the woman who was caught in her own head. Who was running from demons he couldn't see, trying her best to show the world it couldn't break her. Instead standing in front of him was a woman who was scared, who looked so lost in the world, like she was barely hanging on. He studies you, even as you stand in front of him crying, your entire body shaking. You were still beautiful, and he would be lying if he said he didn't think about you. 

You had haunted him every moment since he heard you leave the apartment. When he heard the door click shut it took everything in him not to follow you out. But he didn’t, he laid there staring up at the ceiling until almost 5, before he got up and started making himself some tea. It was then he noticed the note you left your swirling handwriting on the scarp paper wishing him well. He was saddened to see you hadn’t left a way to contact you, but part of him understood. He had offered you a chance to get out of your head for a while. He hadn’t asked you on a date. He DIDN'T date. 

The onslaught of disappointment was tough for him to swallow. Simon was never upset when a woman he brought to bed left with no goodbye, and a hasty note. Simon preferred it that way, it was better if the one night stands didn’t stick around but for some reason Simon couldn’t stop thinking about you. About how your curves felt beneath his palms. The silky smooth expanse of your skin. The way your moans stirred something deep in him, or the way your eyes told him more than you ever would. 

Now as he looked down at you, standing in the darkened alley way. He knew whatever you wanted to say was about to bring his world crashing down. But instead of the overwhelming feeling to flee, that he normally had when confronting emotional issues like this. Simon wanted to hold you close and tell you that it was okay, that whatever it was you could face it and make it out the other side. During his years of doing interrogations and studying people he had learnt the signs of when someone was teetering on the edge. It was clear in your face and body language that you were one gentle gust of wind from toppling over. Crumbling into pieces he wasn’t sure anyone could put back together.

“What is it then Sweetheart? I’ll help you figure it out, whatever it is.” He whispers, pulling you closer to him, his body heat seeping into you, as the wind blows. You sniffle, your shaking hands coming up to swipe at the tears under your eyes. You take one last breath, eyes closed as you brace yourself.

“I’m pregnant.” 

It’s like the world stopped spinning.

Time was suddenly suspended, as you pried your eyes open to look at Simon. His brown eyes were guarded. His brows pulled together, as his hands stopped their motions for a fraction of a second. Your lungs burned from holding your breath, your throat tight. Every muscle in your body was tense, as you waited for him to say something. Do something. You needed some sort of reaction from him. Yelling, screaming, swearing, anything was better than the earth shattering silence that took place after you muttered the two words you hadn’t yet said out loud since you found out.

It wasn’t like you planned on getting pregnant by your one night stand. Hell. It was the LAST thing you wanted. You were always careful to get your birth control shot every 3 months. But with the chaos of the last few months, somewhere along the line you must’ve missed your last appointment. It wasn’t until you went into your appointment earlier today to get a shot that they had informed you they couldn’t administer it. That you were already pregnant.

“Okay.”

The word shocks you, and for a moment you aren’t sure you hear him right. You raise an eyebrow, as you look at Simon.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll figure it out.” Simon states, his hands resuming their soothing motion up and down your sides.

“You’re not.. not going to freak out?” You whisper.

“There’s nothing to freak out about, this isn’t just going to go away. So we need to talk about our options, and we will. Just got standing in the back alley of a pub.”

“Okay…” you whisper, as Simon’s hands guide you towards the emergency exit door that he brought you through. The inside of the bar is louder than before, more people have shown up. Soap, Gaz and Price are all talking at the end of the bar. Your glass of water is filled and sitting on a napkin. They all look over when you two walk over.

“Ghost, Soap was just telling me that you and y/n know each other. Small world isn’t it?” Gaz smiles, his brown eyes looking between us. 

“We do,” Simon turns to Price, “I’m going to be bringing her home, I’ll see you at 0600 tomorrow, Captain.” 

There’s a look that passes between Price and Simon, but he just nods, then turns towards you. “I hope to see you again, dear, maybe next time we can all have a nice meal.” 

“Maybe,” you smile, after waving goodbye to Soap and Gaz, Simon leads you out to the street where the cars are parked. 

“Did you drive here?” He asks, looking down at you.

“No I took the bus,” you shove your hands into the pockets of your coat. It was still wet from where the guy spilt his drink, and you shivered.

“I’ll drive you home,” Simon takes your hand, pulling you towards his truck. He pulls open the passenger door and waits for you to get settled in the seat before shutting it. You run your hands together as Simon climbs into the driver's seat. He starts the truck, turning the heat on high.

“Where do you live?” He asks, as he turns on the headlights. 

“On Ashton street, the apartment complex there” from the corner of your eye you see Simon visibly stiffened, but he doesn’t say anything as he pulls away from the curb. The ride is mainly quiet, neither one of you having much to say. As you get closer to your apartment your anxiety starts to grow again. What if he tells you to get rid of it? 

Is that what you wanted? What if he decided he would rather give it up for adoption? Would he help you find a family? Maybe he would tell you he didn’t want anything to do with a baby? Could you deal with a baby? Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you try to swallow it back down. You weren’t about to throw up all over his nice truck. The grimy bathroom of a bar was one thing, but Simon’s leather interior of his car was not an option. Simon turns down a side street, there weren’t many streetlights on this stretch of the drive. You try to focus on the passing shadows but the rolling and twisting in you hug doesn’t let up.

“Can you pull over please?” You whisper, and Simon glances at you. Your hands bunched in the fabric of your coat, your eyes closed as you take deep breaths. Simon eases the car over, barely putting the car in park before you flung the door open and hop out. You move a few feet into the woods, your hands scraping against the tough bark of a tree, as you get sick. Bile burns your throat and nose, tears stream down your cheeks. 

Warm hands gather the hair from your face and hold it back. Holding your hair back with one hand the other rubs up and down your back. It takes several minutes of dry heaving for you to be able to stand up. A handkerchief is suddenly floating in front of you. You take it and wipe your mouth with it, shoving it into your pocket after.

“You okay?” Simon asks, as you take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry..” you mumble, as you turn back to the car and climb back in. Simon doesn’t say anything as he climbs in and continues to drive to your apartment. As he parks his car, he glances around, his eyes resting on the boarded up windows of the glass door.

“Everything okay?” You ask, noticing as he stares at the glass like he’s trying to get it to tell him what happened to it.

“Yeah. Sorry, let’s go inside,” he mumbles, climbing out and coming to your side. He pulls open your door and offers you a hand. You walk towards the building Simon’s entire body is tense as some residents barrel out of the door. They’re shouting and swearing as they stumble out, a lit cigarette dangling from their fingers. Simon pushes you behind him, as they pass, he watches as they head over to a parked car and continue arguing in front of it.

“They’ll stop arguing after a while. They do this often..” you mutter to Simon as you take his hand pulling him towards the door. He grunts and follows you up the three flights of stairs to your apartment. You hesitate, your hand on the knob as you take a deep breath. Entering was always the hardest part now, every time your hand touches the handle the images of your family break through the mental box you shoved them into. You let out the breath you were holding and pushed open the door. Flicking on the light switch next to the door. 

Your eyes falling on the empty couch against the far wall in the living room. Some of the tension leaves your shoulders as you stare at the threadbare fabric. You step further into the apartment allowing Simon to slip in behind you. He turns the locks on the door, and reaches down unlacing his boots. 

“I don't have much to offer.. Is water okay?” You ask as you shrug off your alcohol stained coat. The fabric is a sticky mess, the fabric ruined from the drink spilt on it at the bar. Tossing it onto the counter, you head over to the cabinet and take down two glasses. 

“Water is okay,”  Simon walks into your living room and takes a seat. He watches you fill the two glasses with water and you come and sit on the other side of the couch, handing him the glass. 

“When did you find out?” Simons asks, taking his face mask off and shoving it into his pocket and taking a sip of water. 

“This afternoon… I went in to get my birth control shot and they make you do a pregnancy test…” You pull your legs up to your chest, holding the glass of water in one hand. The other hand wraps around your shins keeping them pulled up to your chest.

“Did they tell you how far along you are?” He asks, “So we know what our options are, I mean.” 

“They said based on the blood work, 12 weeks. But I have to go in to get an ultrasound next week..” 

“Okay, so we don't have a lot of time to make a choice… have you thought about what you want to do?” Simon sets his glass down on the table next to the couch.

“I .. I don't know.. I was waiting to hear what you had to say before I made up my mind.” You mumble, your eyes trained on a spot of carpet that is fraying.

“If I'm being honest, I never wanted kids. They were never in my cards… I'm not saying I don't like them, kids are great, I just never pictured myself having any,,” he admits.

Your heart sinks.

Here we go, he's going to tell you to get rid of it, and tell you to delete his number, forget he exists and move on with your life. 

“But, with you, it feels right.. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head and at the risk of sounding like a total barbarian. The thought of having you in my life until I die because of this baby fills me with excitement. I wanted to go after you when you snuck out of my apartment but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable. The night I spent with you was one of the best nights I've ever had. So if you would like to, I would love the chance to raise this baby with you. Even if it's as friends and nothing more. Because I know that you were put into my life for a reason, and I'm going to take any chance I can get to keep you around,” Simon finishes, his hand coming to rest on your ankle. 

You sit there for a few moments, mind reeling with everything he just said to you. He wanted to raise a baby with you? Just so he could get to know you? Did you really have that much of a profound effect on him? Would he still feel the same when he found out what had happened to you? Could you do this? I mean really do this?

Babies are huge commitments. They were for life; there was no backing out. But the way Simon was looking at you, like he would take on the world for you with barely knowing you. It made you feel like you could do it. As long as you didn't have to do it alone, well, at least not completely. You chew on your bottom lip for a few more minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head as Simon's eyes trail around your apartment. 

“Okay…” you finally whisper and Simon's head whips towards you.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. I-i don't think i can get rid of it anyway… The thought makes me feel sick,” you confess and the tension in Simon's shoulders all but disappears. 

“Alright, we can figure this out. No pressure for us to be together, we can just start by becoming friends, and seeing where things go okay?” He smiles, and its a real genuine smile. Your heart stutters in your chest, and you can't help your own smile that spreads across your lips. 

“If we’re being honest here,” you sigh, wringing your hands together in your lap,”I couldn't stop thinking about you either… I mean, even before all… yeah.. You know.”

Simon's hand comes over to rest on the side of your face, and he leans forward pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I'm glad to hear that I wasn't the only one with lingering thoughts,” he chuckles.

Simon drops his hand and looks around your place once more, a furrow deep in his brow. He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, before he notices the time on the clock hanging on your wall. It was almost 10 and he needed to check over his gear before he shipped out in the morning. 

“I hate to do this… but I have to go,” his lips pulled down into a thin straight line.

“Oh right.. You told Price you would see him in the morning…”

“Yeah… Look, i can't tell you much, but i don't know how long i’ll be gone…” he looks around, and grabs the notebook you write your ideas for articles down in and scribbles on a spare piece. “This is my number, i won't promise i’ll respond while i'm away, but if anything happens, call this number 3 times in a row and you’ll get through to someone who can get a message to me okay? But that is only for emergencies, otherwise just text me and i’ll do my best to get back to you, alright?” He tears the paper out, coming to stand in front of you. He presses the paper into your hand. It crumples slightly as you close your hand around it.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. His fingers crush along your cheek as he brushes a strand of your hair back from your face. 

“Be safe, keep the door locked… i’ll be back soon and we’ll go do something fun and get to know each other.” Simon smiles, as he takes a few steps backwards towards the door. 

“I’ll hold you to it,” you smile, “Be safe out there.”

The only response is the soft click of the door.

Next: Part 4

[sky-kiss]

YAS! Free time is best time! Hmm for prompts, I love the idea of low intelligence Tav and Raphael? Like Tav convinced Raphael is a Fae? Man offered her food, won’t call her by her name, rhymes, and wants to make deals. He’s totally a fae, and he gets so pissy she won’t be convinced otherwise.

Or for spicy prompt. I know it’s not everyone’s thing, but innocent Tav being deflowered by Raphael as part of a deal? Or cockwarming, that’s my favorite as well.

A/N: Had to fight, had to actively restrain myself for going for one of these prompts. Will do the scenario though. And I weep. But when Idiot!Tav calls, I answer.

______

R/T: Local Devil Tries to Flirt; Local Idiot Too Far Gone for Banter

______

There are mortal eccentricities he finds charming. Ambition, for one! Their pluck! The gods create meager little creatures, soft, small, and weak, yet they forge ahead! Unconcerned by their relative lack of status in the universe! He'd go so far as to say he admires the trait. And there is something endearing in their youthful naivete, comparative ignorance of the outer planes. Raphael is not so proud as to admit he has not actively exploited this lack of knowledge in the past. It's always served his best interests! 

But it can be, and currently is, a double-edged sword. The cambion strokes his chin, lips pressed to a thin line, as he surveys his champion. His little mouse regards him with narrowed eyes and a vacant stare. "Come, my dear! Eat and make merry for tomorrow," he prolongs the sentence, letting it hang between them with a practiced theatricality. "You may die." 

"Is that a threat?" 

Raphael chuckles, shifting his weight to the back foot, his right hand pressed to his sternum. "From me? Have I been ought but a friend? A champion, an advocate, in this your hour of need?" 

She huffs, "I can't see that you've done a thing for us. You dangle a deal and won't let me take it!"

"The thrill of anticipation, sweetling. Best in all things." He winks. 

She does not reciprocate. Her brows pulled together; she frowned, arms crossing her chest- not the body language Raphael wanted. In truth, he's been finding the whole arrangement a touch challenging. There's no back-and-forth or witty banter- not like he planned it. Tav shakes her head. "And that's another thing. I'm not your sweetling. Or your dear. I'm Tav. Can you manage Tav?" 

"We're certainly feeling combative, aren't we?" The devil narrows his eyes. 

"You can do it, can't you?" 

And he's momentarily struck by the notion that she isn't challenging him; she's genuinely curious if he can do it. Raphael hums, "Nuanced as it is, I am perfectly capable of naming you, Tav. Is that satisfactory?" 

She shakes her head. "I don't trust you." 

"Clever girl. Only you don't have to trust me. There is something deliciously illicit in such partnerships—a hint of intrigue. A flash of- "He leans nearer, flourishing with his right hand. Sparks dance from the tips of his fingers. "Danger." 

"No good ever came from the fae-folk." 

"My dear, I assure you, I…" Raphael cuts off, brain catching up to his tongue. "Beg pardon? Fae?"

"Fae," she repeats. Tav eyes him with renewed caution, hand slipping to the hilt of her (comically ineffectual) cold-iron knife. "I'm many things, Raphael, but I'm no fool."

"Truly." He licks his lips. It's rare for him to be purely baffled, but here it is. Nothing about her suggests she's joking. A quick peak in the little idiot's head suggests she believes her statement with absolute certainty. He crosses his arms over his chest, indicating himself with a hand sweep. "My dear, what do you make of all this?" The horns, red skin, the tail…clearly infernal. 

She shakes her head. "A devil would deal more honestly. I'd be more inclined to trust them. This is…a glamor. Convincing, but false."

He blanches. "What." 

"You bring me here. You make me pretty promises and ply me with wine and sweet words. You speak in riddles and songs!" He wants to argue that those are all devilish traits, but gods, why bother? Raphael pinches the bridge of his nose. "Devils may be evil, Raphael, but at least they're honest."

"To their detriment, apparently." He sighs. "Pet…" 

"Tav." 

"Tav," he corrects, feeling his temperature rise in response to his temper. "I have offered a contract, its terms clearly stated."

"No. You've offered me a deal. No contract, no terms. And the matter with the Orthon! A purely verbal arrangement. No devil worth their salt would go along with that." 

"How dare you! Impertinent, thoughtless…" Raphael catches himself. He makes a mental ten count and assures himself the deal will be done shortly. It all comes back to the crown. He needs them. He…gods, he has to play along. It tastes like bile on his tongue. "Fae, yes. You've found me out, pet. A…creature of chaos. Such am I." 

Tav nods. "Thank you for your honesty." 

He honestly considers strangling the little idiot. 

[memerabilia]

| SENTENCE STARTERS | THE BEAR & THE NIGHTINGALE |

PART I. adjust as necessary.

What tale will you have tonight?

Pray the wretched ewe delivers tonight.

You are sure you have the strength for it?

Power is a birthright to the women/men/members of her/his/their bloodline.

Come to bed.

Remember before? You used to tell me stories.

You will give me your word to care for them, will you not?

Sleep, [name], for it is winter.

It is two weeks' riding if all goes well. I will need you on the road.

They are all like that, the princes that live. Either they are good judges of men, or they are dead.

But there is peace here, peace beyond anything. I see you have felt it.

Many pilgrims come here, and many ask to stay. But we only take those who do not know what they are looking for.

Wash off the stink. We are feasting tonight.

I see your holy man made quite an impression.

She/he/they is growing too old to lurk around the palace and make folk nervous.

There are convents enough. It is a simple matter.

She/he/they cannot fail to be a beauty.

Enough of that. I have decided, and it is for the best.

You thought that such as I do not walk in the places of men? Well, I go where I will.

Well, signs are not infallible.

The hour might have passed; the hour might never come.

No. Am I so easily defeated?

The blood holds.

I swear it. On the ice and the snow and a thousand lives of men.

There it is. A trinket, no more.

They will be here before nightfall; we must be ready to receive them.

I knew it must come, [name]. But it is a hard thing.

I think I need not tell you what will happen if you play me false.

To wed a decent man and be safe in his house, to worship God and bear strong sons—that is real and right.

Fairy tales are sweet on winter nights, nothing more.

The world is fair to me still, especially the north of the world in summertime.

I am sorry. It is a hard thing.

I must go, [name]. Do not hate me for going.

Give thanks. Your salvation is just at hand.

No, no, it really must be you.

Oh, a good woman; a good woman. Not like the mistress that was, but a good woman all the same. I know no harm of her.

Fear—and desire—not that you know anything of either.

Dying, they know me for who I am.

Here comes one who would be good eating.

He is full of desire. Desire and fear. He does not know what he desires, and he does not admit his fear. But he feels both, strong enough to strangle.

Perhaps he desires death. If so—I can help him.

I know what I need. But I do not know where to find it.

Gawky. Clumsy, half-grown. But half the house watches to see what she will do next.

At dawn tomorrow, I think, [name]. It is best to harvest before full light.

I know where the wild mint grows. And there will be elderberries if we are fortunate, and blackberries.

You are human after all. I wondered.

Not angels. Men only, but men with voices that would not shame angels. At nightfall they light a hundred thousand candles, and everywhere there is gold and music...

You did not want to come here, did you? We have no music or lights, and precious few people... Can you not go away?

I go where God sends me. If my work is here, I will stay here.

Are you going to save us, then? I think you should be careful, [name]. We have never needed saving before.

I— of course, [name], I am well, I just—forgive me, I...

Tell me what brings you to seek solace at such an hour.

They have not told you that I am mad?

But they aren't—can't—be real. No one else sees...I am mad; I know I am mad.

Oh. Oh, please. Make it go away. Make them go away.

I will pray and think on it. Go back and go to sleep, [name].

Have mercy on us and save us.

Repent lest you burn. The fire is very near. It is waiting for you and your children, each time you lie down to sleep.

Why should we alone be allowed to raise our voices in praise? Crickets worship with songs as much as we.

That will teach her/him/them the price of sin.

We must look to our children and our livestock, and only go into the forest in daylight.

Be still. Sit down. This is unseemly.

I speak for my people; they are afraid; they are sorry.

It is the coming storm. The first sign is fear. The second is always fire. Your people are afraid, and now the fires burn.

It is my wrath and my warning.

Courage will save you. If your people are afraid, then they are lost.

You have done wonders already. I am—do not think me ungrateful, [name].

Fear is first, then fire, then famine.

And I say to you surely that if he lives now, many will die.

You've done enough damage; can you not let them be?

I want to save you, [name]. I will save you all. There are dark forces you do not understand.

And it seems to me we did very well before you came; for if we prayed less, we also wept less.

Mark me, [name]. Pray for the dead, comfort the sick. But leave me alone, or next time one of them comes for you, I shall not lift a finger to help you.

He will call me and I will answer; he will have my allegiance and I will turn against you. I cannot do otherwise.

The leaves are falling. Do not leave the forest.

You were frightened when they sent you here. You felt the forest closing around you like a fist; I could see it in your eyes.

Hush. Do not be a fool; you are making yourself frightened.

You are right. I am foolish. I was born for a cage, after all.

It is easy to die. Harder to live. Do not forget me, [name].

[youhideastar]

Rule of Law: Deleted Endings

A couple of folks have indicated that they'd be interested in seeing the many, many failed attempts I had at drafting an ending to Rule of Law. 😂 Truly, the ending persecuted me for days. It's like that Edison quote about learning 200 ways not to make a lightbulb. Anyway, if you are interested, read on!

There's a piece of writing advice that, if you can't write anything good to follow a particular line/paragraph, you should delete the line/paragraph. It crossed my mind many times that this advice was maybe correct and I should therefore delete the lines:

“Mn.” Lan Wangji rises to his feet, and Lan Jingyi joins him. “This person would also need a strong sense of justice. A strong work ethic. And a sense of humor.” He studies the young man before him, who was once a small, loud boy with a habit of interrupting Lan Wangji’s lessons to ask impertinent questions. “Lan Jingyi. I am proud of you.”

Because I was having a devil of a time following them. But my gut told me that I absolutely should not do that. That those lines were very, very important to the emotional core of the fic. And now that I have figured out how to end it, I'm so glad I kept them. The fic needs them.

But yeah... what comes next? The problem is that those lines have the feel of an ending to them already--but they're not quite enough to wrap up the fic, to tie a bow on it. I got the idea to have Jingyi say he was proud of Lan Wangji in return quite early, but discarded it since it would be such a violation of the norms of their society. I eventually decided to go with it anyway, but only after approximately a dozen alternatives:

#1:

For a moment, they pause on the porch, looking out over the mass of cultivators who have come for the conference: rogue cultivators in homespun and rich young masters in fine brocade; juniors looking around with awe and elders conversing in somber tones. Across the yard, Luo Qingyang is deep in discussion with Meishan Yu’s head disciple, holding Little Mianmian’s hand. Nie Huaisang is fluttering his fan; Wen Ning is crouched amid a gaggle of children, letting them trace their fingers over the black veins on his neck.

“I can take those for copying,” Lan Jingyi says, holding out his hands for the stack of papers. He smiles again. “I think you have someone to meet.”

“Mn.”

Lan Wangji entrusts the papers to Lan Jingyi and turns his steps toward the back hill.

Wrong - takes the focus off of LJY and LWJ, but the very last line would make it into the final version.

#2:

As they depart the office, Lan Jingyi asks, “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”

“I do not know,” Lan Wangji replies.

Lan Jingyi smiles. “Yeah. I guess that’s the point.”

Who decides?

“Indeed.”

The proposals have been gathered. Their fate is no longer in his hands.

Lan Wangji entrusts the stack of papers to Lan Jingyi, and turns his steps toward the back hill.

He thinks he hears the sound of a flute.

The early parts of this are actually fine, but they're still not an ending, and the transition to the bit about the back hill was brutally abrupt and would not smooth out no matter what I did.

#3:

“Who knows if the rule will even make it into the book.”

“We cannot know,” Lan Wangji agrees. Now, he smiles. “But I will vote for it.”

“Thank you, Hanguang-jun.” He laughs. The sound is slightly watery. “And thank you for—doing all this just based on my wild idea.”

This material is all fine but is not getting us closer to an ending.

#4:

He coughs. “Anyway, let me take those for copying. You have a meeting with a rogue cultivator to get to.”

Lan Wangji raises an eyebrow, but hands over the stack of paper. “I was unaware,” he says.

“As your assistant, I know these things,” Lan Jingyi says, grinning. “He’s on the back hill. With his donkey.”

“Ah.”

The beginning of the phase where I thought I needed to go out on an explicitly Wangxian note. There are going to be a lot of these and they're all wrong, because the ending needs to be about Lan Jingyi. He's the heart. Of the fic, and of the reason I wrote the fic.

#5:

He coughs. “Anyway. Let me take those for copying; you have… somebody to meet, don’t you?”

Lan Wangji does not ask how Lan Jingyi knows: it is the job of a good assistant to know these things. “Mn.” He hands the stack of papers over. It feels heavier than the mere weight of the paper.

Substantially similar to the last one and wrong for the same reason.

#6:

As they walk onto the porch, he says cheerfully, “Even if no one votes for it tomorrow, I’ll always have that.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees. At the next bend in the path that leads to the Jingshi, a figure is leaning against a lantern stand. Dangling from his hands, Lan Wangji can make out two jars of Emperor’s Smile. “Good night, Lan Jingyi.”

“Good night, Hanguang-jun.”

I really wanted the fic to be canon-compliant, which would mean WWX would meet LWJ in the back hill, but by this point I was desperate and was willing to sacrifice canon-compliance if it could get me an ending that didn't suck. Spoiler alert: it couldn't.

#7:

As they walk onto the porch, papers in hand, Lan Jingyi says, “Let me take those for copying – it looks like you’ve got a meeting.”

Lan Wangji follows his gaze. There, in the bend of the path, is a figure in black – facing away, and holding two dangling jars of Emperor’s Smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Wrong, wrong, wrong-ola.

#8:

As they walk onto the porch, Lan Wangji asks, “Are the preparations for tomorrow complete?”

Lan Jingyi smiles. “Almost. Just waiting on one last guest.” Putting on an air of innocence, he offers, “Should I go to the back hill to meet him?”

“No need,” says Lan Wangji, with a small smile of his own. “I know where to find him.”

Cute! But no. WWX shows up exactly the right amount in this fic. Any more is too much.

#9:

In silence, they carry the stack of papers out of Lan Wangji’s office, through the paths of Cloud Recesses—crowded, now, with guests for tomorrow’s conference—to the scribes’ hall.

At the door, the chief scribe greets them with a polite smile and bow. “Hanguang-jun. Lan-shao-gongzi. Is the compilation complete?”

Lan Wangji nods, and hands her the file. Her eyes widen when she takes it from him.

“It’s heavy,” she says.

It is. Lan Wangji had noticed that himself. There is more than paper and ink carried in those pages.

New direction: we're going to actually take the rules for copying, and therefore go out focusing on the rules rather than LJY and LWJ. Not a bad idea thematically! But it just didn't work.

#10:

At the closed door, they pause.

“Hanguang-jun,” Lan Jingyi whispers, “Do you ever wish we just—picked the best rules ourselves and got rid of the rest?”

Who decides?

“No.”

Then, unexpectedly, Lan Jingyi smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “Me neither.”

Together, they knock on the door.

This one would borrow the first few lines of the last one - carrying the papers to the scribes again. This one is, hopefully, redundant. If you get this far in the fic and still don't understand that LWJ shouldn't pick the rules, I've failed.

#11:

As they walk out onto the porch, Lan Jingyi blurts, “Hanguang-jun knows this junior has a history of disregarding proper etiquette and seniority, so this junior hopes Hanguang-jun will forgive him for saying he’s—he’s proud of you, too.”

Lan Wangji pauses, and turns to face his assistant, who blushes.

“Everyone knows you didn’t really want this job,” Lan Jingyi mumbles. “Hanguang-jun worked hard and gave up a lot. So. This junior is proud.”

After having tried what felt like literally everything else, I decided to try having LJY say he was proud of LWJ in return, to see if it would write. It would!! Not like this, though--too clunky--so one more iteration was required.

#12 (final version):

Lan Jingyi blinks hard for a moment, then looks away. “Thank you, Hanguang-jun.”

As they step onto the porch, Lan Jingyi clutches the file of proposals to his chest and blurts out, “This junior is proud of you, too, Hanguang-jun.”

It is, of course, a breach of etiquette and seniority for a junior to speak to Lan Wangji in such a way.

But if Lan Wangji placed a higher value on etiquette and seniority than on sincerity, he would have selected a different assistant.

“Mn,” says Lan Wangji, with a rare smile. Then he turns away and sets out for the path that will lead him to the back hill.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

[satureja13]

Winter Solstice Since Summer Solstice in June, the Night has stolen a few minutes of light every day - until today. Therefore today is the longest night of the year - and the beginning of the long, cold winter. But - just like a miracle - from tomorrow on, the days are getting longer. Leading us through the darkness until summer starts again. This is my favourite festival throughout the whole year. Because even when you hit rock bottom and you think you will never see the light again - there is still hope. And the sureness the light will come back. And the best thing: You don't even have to do anything to get the light back - it just happens! A happy Winter Solstice, y'all - may the light come back into your life <3

At Batuu, the light comes back even three times stronger with it's three suns. Saiwa, Jeb and Jeb went back to the woodlands, where they'd left the stolen borrowed shuttle. Lt. Agnon and Kylo Ren already arrived for the handover.

Lt. Agnon: "B.D will be here soon and we'll make a short briefing. Then we start the broadcast and tell the folks how we solved this diplomatically and peaceful." Saiwa nodded: "Sure." It's hard for all of them to remain professional to not endanger their mission. How hard must it have been for Albaleyh!

And finally the shuttle from Belsavis, the prison planet, landed - with B.D on board! Lt. Agnon had kept his promise.

And Saiwa is glad they'd left Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack at the cantina. They are still a bit dazzled. But Vlad would have made a huge fuzz for sure if he'd been here...

But they sat quietly at their table, trying to process everything. They don't remember much. Vlad had been shocked by the Stormtrooper after throwing a tantrum, Jack had collapsed because he can't stand being locked up and Ji Ho shut down completely, overwhelmed by their feelings that had hit him through the Bond... Ji Ho: "Why are these people staring at us?" Jack: "I don't know!"

But then the broadcast started. Jack, still a bit out of it, dreamily sighed: "Look how hot Kiyoshi looks..." Vlad was having a hard time looking at the man who had tried to take Ji Ho from them - him - and avoided to look at the screen...

None of them has an idea how it had happened that all of them and B.D are free now. Cantina Guest: "They are friends of Lenny, the Legendary, you know? He made all this possible! Lenny finally brought peace to Batuu." Cantina Guest 2: "You sure? They look a bit - drably..." Cantina Guest: "Pshhhhh! If Lenny hears you!" Vlad: "Tch."

Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack left the cantina. Too much commotion for their still dazzled brains. The fresh air will do them good. And Jack was still hungry, so they sat at a food stand. Vlad and Jack are still utterly amazed of how stunning it is here. They don't want to leave Batuu - ever.

Jack: "I mean, we're drinking Bantha Milk while looking at a TIE Echelon in a Galaxy far far away!"

And that was when Kylo Ren and Lt. Agnon returned from the broadcast... Master Ren looked longingly over to Jino... Of course he'd seen them.

Whether Vlad didn't understand how fragile this new peace was - or he just couldn't contain his anger. He never can when it comes to Ji Ho... "Hey, you!" he yelled in Kylo Ren's direction.

Before Jack could stop him, Vlad ran over, still a bit wonky on his legs, but he has to make a point. Master Ren and Vlad produced their lightsabers. Vlad: "This is for what you did to Jino - and Ji Ho!"

Master Ren: "You should have left him with me - you have nothing to offer him! He should belong to someone who loves and cherishes him."

Ji Ho: "Vlad is so hot..." Jack: "I know, right?! Damn - even I think he's hot!" Ji Ho: "Eh - did I say that out loud?" Jack: "What do you mean?"

Vlad: "Ji Ho belongs to no one! He's free to make his own choices!"

They kept on fighting for a while until Lt. Agnon cleared his throat. Lt. Agnon: "Master, it's time to end this if we don't want to taint our new found peace."

But before they ended this, Vlad took one last strike. Vlad: "And this is for Han!"

Spoiler: Kylo Ren killed his father Han Solo in 'The Force Awakens'. And neither I nor Jack and Vlad will ever forgive him! (I didn't even watch those movies ^^' They didn't happen ö.ö')

Kylo Ren and Lt. Agnon went back to the First Order Building and Vlad back to Ji Ho. Ji Ho: "I wouldn't mind belonging..." Vlad: "To him?! Fine! If that's what you want!"

Ji Ho: "I want to belong to you." Vlad: "Oh..." Jack: "Aouwwwww!"

Let's cherish this as long as it lasts and they're still dazzled ^^'

Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack eventually arrived at the campsite by the shuttle where they are supposed to spend the night. B.D will leave early tomorrow morning to meet his kids, he'd already called them. And as soon as the Boys found a hike to the orbit, where Great A'Tuin is waiting for them, they will leave Batuu too.

'Later on, we'll conspire, As we dream by the fire To face unafraid, The plans that we've made, Walking in a winter wonderland.'

Macy Gray - Winter Wonderland (This is my favourite version of this song)

Jack and Vlad wanted to know everything about B.D's adventures and they chatted excitedly - when B.D suddenly looked up: "Now these are some weird meteorites!" Jack: "Meteorites? Where?" B.D: "Over there, above the trees!"

Jack: "The meteorites! They are back! And they're leading us the way!"

Meanwhile at the First Order Building - at Kylo Ren's apartment. After the fight with Val, the Master felt the need to use Lt. Agnon again. To help him to forget about Jino. The Master even left his mask on! A secret little kink of Lt. Agnon :3 Lt. Agnon: "Master... the shaft of your lightsaber is poking me. You should set it aside." Master Ren: "This isn't my lightsaber..." Lt. Agnon sucked in a breath: "Oh, Master! *Lt. Agnon's hand wandered down beneath the blanket* Is this - all - for me?" Master Ren: "It is, Tarek. You did well today, bringing peace to Batuu - and for me." The Master also never called Lt. Agnon by his first name before - Tarek.

The Master usually took Lt. Agnon in the closet when he needed to use him to forget about Jino. This was the first time he took him to his bed. Hope is the last to die. The Master has a lot to forget about this Boy and Lt. Agnon has a lot of hope...

(The meaning of the name Tarek is: Quote: 'Tarek is a masculine name of Arabic origin. A variant of Tariq, this name translates to “night visitor” or “knocker at the door,” referring to visitors travelling at night. In the Qur'an, it also means “bright star,” which leads the way through the darkness.') (Lt. Agnon has no confirmed first name. Tarek is non-canon only for us ^^' I think it matches him, and for this Winter Solstice episode that wouldn't have went so well without his help.)

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[lulublack90]

Prompt 31 - Lock

@jegulus-microfic January 31 Word count 1755

This is it folks. I'm quite emotional. I really hope you all like it.

For my biggest fans @weirdtinkerbellversion @thedvilsinthedetails and @beautyoftheships I love you guys.

Previous part First part

All he could hear was white noise. His brain couldn’t process James’s words. His eyes found the bottle of wine, and he automatically poured himself a glass and downed it. 

He grasped the edge of the counter with both hands and felt his body shake. 

James remained silent, not wanting to push him. 

Regulus bit back tears and turned around, putting his protective mask in place, leaving his face devoid of emotion. 

“So that’s it for us then?” He stared at James with dead eyes, his voice a bored monotone. It made James shiver.

“I don’t want it to be.” Tears dripped down his face. “Reg,” He croaked. “I love you. I want to be with you. Lily told me this life-changing news,” He looked at his watch. “Four hours ago.”

“So, you didn’t know anything while I was arranging my return to England?” He sounded cold and accusing. He tried not to care. James shook his head. 

“No, Reg. I swear. I’ve only just found out.” James looked at him, features full of heartbreak. “You’re the first person I’ve told. Not even Sirius knows.” This shocked Regulus almost as much as finding out James was going to be a father. 

He smelt burning. He spun around and pulled the ruined dinner out of the oven. He threw it on the side and bit down on his lip. 

“James, I need you to go. Please.” His mask had slipped. It would be only moments before he broke down. 

“Reg—“

“Please, James. I need to figure out if this is the life I want. Kids were never my plan, and now…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, so he let it sit. 

“I’m so sorry, Reg. Nothing ever seems to go right for us. Does it? I really hope that changes.” His voice was thick as he continued. “Please remember whatever you choose, I will always love you.” With that, James left. The door hadn’t even banged shut before Regulus was sobbing. 

———————————————————————————

James’s chest hurt. What should have been a hopefully pleasant evening had turned into yet another nightmare. He looked up at the skies and called out to whoever might be listening.

“Could whoever is writing our story please give us a break?!” When he got no answer, he walked back to his empty house. Even Leo had gone out.       

His phone buzzed. 

‘Hey. Reggie just texted me and said you’d gone home already. Take it it didn’t go well then? Wanna meet for lunch tomorrow? Usual place?

Love ya

xxx’

He sent back a quick, ‘Yeah, sounds good to me. See you at noon x.’ He decided the best thing was to go to bed and deal with everything in the morning. 

***

James heard the sound of thundering boots coming up fast behind him. He began to turn, but before he could see what was happening. There was an almighty thud. He looked down at the pavement and sprawled across it. Hair in a wild mess was Sirius. 

“Trip over your laces again?” James said flatly. 

“Yup.” A muffled reply came from the heap on the floor. James snorted loudly as he bent to pick his friend up. 

Miraculously, Sirius had gotten away with only a slight graze on his cheek. 

“Is it true? Am I going to be an Uncle!” He shook James vigorously in his excitement. 

“I suppose so, I guess,” James said as he tried to escape Sirius's grasp.

“I’m godfather!” He burst out, bouncing up and down. 

“Sirius, we’re not even religious.” 

“Fine, fairy godfather, whatever. Either way, I bagsy it.” James sighed and clapped him on the back.

“You got it, you absolute crazy man.” He bent down and tied Sirius’s laces for him. 

“Awww, you’re gonna be such a good dad.” He gushed as he wiggled his foot, checking out his shoelaces.

“Come on then, let’s go get lunch. I had some amazing news to tell you.” James chuckled as he threw his arm around Sirius’s shoulder and continued down the street to the little cafe on the corner. 

Sirius didn’t stop babbling about all the baby things he’d googled and spouted off so much information that James felt his chest tightening in panic.

“I think he just needs time, you know.” 

“Hmm, what?” James had completely zoned out, picking his sandwich to pieces.

“I said, he just needs time. It’s a lot. But I really hope he picks you, mate.” Sirius said, taking James’s hands away from his decimated sandwich and squeezing them gently. He didn’t want to get his hopes up again, but he didn’t fight very hard.      

***

He was painting when the door went. He nearly fell off the ladder as he hurried downstairs to answer it. He was covered in paint, so he tried to touch as few things as possible. 

He yanked the door open, slightly red-faced, and lost all his breath when he saw Regulus standing there. 

“Hi,” 

“Hi,” 

“I’ve made my decision.” Regulus blurted out, not waiting to be invited in. James felt his mouth go dry.

“And?” His tongue was like sandpaper. He couldn’t take the suspense.

“I’m in,” Regulus said confidently. “Nappies, late night feedings, helping them plot their revenge on the school bully. All of it. I’m in.” Without warning, James flung himself at Regulus. He gathered him up into his arms and spun him around. He was bursting with joy. 

He suddenly dropped him and ran into his office. He rooted around in a draw and rushed back to Regulus, who was still waiting at the front door. 

“I got you something.” He held out the small box.

“What the fuck! James! Are you proposing?” Regulus’s eyebrows disappeared into the curls that hung over his forehead. James’s eyes widened.

“NO! No, No,” He opened the box. “It’s just a key!” 

“Oh,” Regulus sounded disappointed. James made a mental note to put a pin in that for later. 

“And what lock does this open, James? Your heart?” A playful smirk settled on Regulus’s mouth. 

“It’s a key to the house. So you don’t have to knock any more, you can come and go as you please. And—” He took a deep breath. He’d been preparing for this. “And if you’d like to—No pressure, by the way—But if you’d like to, I’d love it if you moved in with me.” Regulus took the silver-coloured key from the box and held it in his hand, staring at it, flipping it over in his palm. He looked up at James, a sweet, shy smile on his lips. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Okay, I’ll move in with you. Being away, I forgot how obnoxious Sirius is. I’ve had to buy earplugs to block out his nighttime noises.” He pulled a face, gagging slightly. James grabbed him in his arms again and lifted him into the air. 

“I love you,” He whispered across Regulus’s lips before closing the gap. 

Only when he set a breathless Regulus back on his feet did he remember he was covered in paint. He looked in horror at the cream-coloured paint splattered all over Regulus’s black coat. Regulus looked down as well. 

“Is that paint?” His eyebrow shot up as he questioned James. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was painting the room that’s going to be the nursery. Er, put your coat in the wash, and you can borrow one of mine. I’ll just go get changed.” He ushered Regulus inside and shut the door. Being very careful not to touch him again.

Regulus shrugged off his coat. 

“Did you get it finished.? He asked matter of factly. 

“Er, no, I didn’t. I barely even started. Only done about half a wall.” Regulus pulled his jumper off and started up the stairs. James chased after him and into his bedroom. But Regulus wasn’t there. “Reg?” He called out as he tried and failed to figure out where he’d gone. 

“I’m in the baby’s room. Where are you?” Regulus called back. James hurried out of the bedroom. Clearly, he’d gotten the wrong idea. 

Regulus, roller in hand, was making a start on the wall that James had started. He’d already accomplished more than he had and didn’t have a lick of paint on him. James leaned against the door frame, watching the man he hoped to spend the rest of his life with painting his unborn child’s room. 

He didn’t think there were enough words in the world to describe how much he loved him.     

———————————————————————————

Nine months later

“James, he’s beautiful.” Regulus hadn’t expected to feel this way when meeting baby Harry for the first time. The tiny raven-haired boy slept soundly in James’s arms. James grinned the biggest grin Regulus had ever seen on his face. He turned to Lily. “He’s amazing, Lily. How are you doing?” She looked exhausted, but she still had a smile for him and a cheeky wink. 

“You know me. Cup of coffee, and I’ll be right back up.”

“Do you want to hold him?” James asked him as he slowly rocked the baby to and fro. 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Regulus said quietly. His palms felt sweaty as he looked nervously at the tiny, delicate bundle that was nestled in James’s arms. 

“You’ll be fine. Here.” James stood and awkwardly transferred Harry into Regulus’s arms. 

He looked again at the tiny baby and felt a protective love surge through his body. 

Harry fussed in his arms, and he instinctively began to sway. Harry opened his little mouth in a perfect O and settled back down. He was so in love. 

There was a quiet tap at the hospital door, and Sirius’s face popped around it. 

“Can we come in yet?” He whined. James nodded.

“Yeah, of course you can.” 

Sirius rushed in, followed more slowly by Remus. They crowded around Regulus so they could get a good look at the baby. 

“Look, Sirius,” Regulus said, pulling his gaze away from Harry to look at his brother. “Isn’t he perfect?” Sirius wrapped an arm around him.

“Yeah, Reggie, he is. Now give me a turn!” Reluctantly, Regulus handed him over and went to stand next to James. James pulled him in close, wrapping his arms around him as they watched Sirius and Remus quietly argue over how long Sirius got to hold him before it was Remus’s turn. Lily had fallen asleep. She was exhausted after the long labour. It was peaceful. 

James leant his chin on Regulus’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“How you doing, Papa?” Regulus’s heart melted.