#had a lot on my plate so things was a little slow here for a moment

[bruhstories]

Bet II

p.1 here & p.3 here

summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k

a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.

You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.

Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.

You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor. 

It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.

Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho 

A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.

Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.

You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.

Ding!

Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge. 

Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.

"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.

As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor. 

"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."

There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.

Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.

As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang. 

Kitchen and dining room done!

You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.

"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"

The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day. 

At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered. 

You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo. 

Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me. 

When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.

Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.

Ding!

Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.

Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm. 

I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.

You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.

"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?" 

Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.

When was the last time you watered the cactus?

Ding!

You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.

I don't remember. 

Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant. 

Ding!

Another text? You took your phone out and read it.

Why would your uncle be upset?

The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.

He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.

Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?

You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age.  You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom. 

Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you. 

Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair

i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo

[psychxpxthic]

|| @brutalscaled | 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹 || ______________________________________________________________ Above the welkin stood formidable shades of marmalade and mahogany; it was a telling sign, the sun was setting and the moon was rising. A battle had just commenced, and a retreat was most appropriate for the manikin known as Doctor Psycho. He was defeated, wounded with a fowl laceration being dealt upon his leg; making it humorous to say that he'd gotten out of this lucky.

Uneven footsteps treaded through the seperate shrubs and bushes. He'd taken a short cut to get back home, one that consisted of him venturing through the depth of an boscage. Once he knew he was no longer being chased, adrenalin began wear off, and his pace depleted.

One with a enhanced, keen sense of smell would very well be able to pick up on the distinct metallic scent of copper that Edgar's wound was emitting. To him, it was no matter; he'd treat this abrasion while he was in a more secure spot— back at his quarters, if you will. The evil genius knew the dangers he'd continuously put himself in. He had common altercations with some of the most strongest inhuman beings to ever exist. Wonder woman, superman, hell— He'd even vouch battles with those from the hero's opposing teams. His wrath had bounds; if he in any way, shape, or from felt disrespected, undermined, or belittled, vengeance were to always be carried out.

Hobbling down a desolate trail, Edgar came to a complete halt. He hunched over, chest pumping in and out from the heavy breaths leaving his vessel. He was tired— and he didn't realize just how tired and out of breath he was till the loss of his epinephrine. He could feel the aches in his leg, the burning of his lungs, the taste of ichor which lingered in his throat. He needed a moment, his body needed a moment; as for that, he kept in this position trying to regain enough energy to continue his walk home.

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him���even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[keikikait]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 4.6k

summary: you wait up for rafe after he leaves you for sofia

warnings: ANGST/THEMES OF DEPRESSION. please only read if you're comfortable!, reader literally sits on her couch for 2 days, forced undressing (not sexually), no smut but they shower together, rafe is trying to be good i promise, i haven't finished s4 so if i get shit wrong about his house i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: ik i just posted part 1 yesterday but like. i had to keep cooking. let me know if you want a part three! also, i think this is my longest fic to date...

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You wait for him all day. Like the good girl he expects you to be.

You shower and pamper yourself, trying to take the edge off, but it’s all for naught. You were going to be an anxious, stressed mess until you heard those three knocks. You sit, fully dressed in a simple crop top and miniskirt, watching TV. You don’t dare move from this spot, just in case he decides to come home to you early.

The clock strikes one, and the waiting is too much for you. You're anxious, stressed, nervous; everything that you didn't want to be. The waiting feels like hours but also like seconds, the seconds ticking away painfully slow and too fast, the minutes and hours passing without your realization or intention.

You watch the TV with unseeing eyes, still sitting on the couch, fully dressed. And then it strikes two. And all you can do is wait some more. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. You’ve already made it through a season of the show you were watching, mindlessly staring at the screen.

Sitting. 

Waiting.

The sun starts to set, orange and pink hues streaking across your living room. You don’t move from your spot, starting to grow even more anxious. The tag on your shirt is starting to irritate you, but you don’t dare to move. You didn’t want to miss him, didn’t want to miss the knocks from your bedroom. 

The sun completely sets, the only source of light coming from your TV. It’s just a few minutes after 6:00pm, but the room feels dark, so much darker than any other night before. Your phone vibrates, dancing across the coffee table, but it isn’t Rafe, so you don’t answer it, not wanting to miss the three knocks. Your patience grows thin, and each second feels like an eternity. Waiting is never a pleasant thing. Waiting for him is even worse.

6 PM turns into 9 PM, and suddenly it’s midnight. Rafe never came home.

You continue to stay up, pinching your arm occasionally to wake you back up. You didn’t want to miss him. You had a habit of being a heavy sleeper and sleeping in, and you knew that you would miss the knocks. 

You grab your phone, scrolling through Sofia’s Instagram with shaky hands. There was no point in checking Rafe’s, he barely posted. The little pink ring swims around Sofia’s profile picture, and you click on her story.

The first story is from 12 hours ago, showing a plate from a fancy brunch spot on the mainland. The date he ditched you to take her on. The next story is from 10 hours ago, a shot of both of their hands holding cups of ice cream on a pier somewhere. He was wearing the gold Ouroboros ring you bought him, and it makes your heart clench. The next story is from 7 hours ago, a selfie of her looking frustratingly gorgeous in Rafe’s bedroom, the covers pulled up over her bare chest.

Did they fuck? Even after everything that happened last night?

The last story is from 3 hours ago, a selfie of them together outside a sushi restaurant, her arm around his neck while he looks off into the distance, a cigarette in his mouth. He’s still wearing that stupid ring.

Did he forget about you?

It wouldn’t be the first time.

You hope, foolishly, that he would text you, tell you he’s running late and that he’ll be there soon. But he doesn’t. You don’t move to text him first, knowing he won’t respond anyway, especially if Sofia is next to him.

You set your phone down, feeling completely overwhelmed. The possibility of them sleeping together tonight makes you sick to your stomach, but you wouldn’t put it past Rafe to do something like that. Especially after what he said yesterday.

She’s my girlfriend.

And you were just his…what? His friend? His side chick? The other woman? A warm mouth and a tight hole that he sought out when he was done with Sofia’s shit?

You drop your phone onto the floor, grabbing the pillow from under your head and pressing your face into it, trying to silence your sobs. It takes everything in you not to scream into the pillow, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. How could you be such an idiot? He never fails to make you feel so naïve. You thought last night would change everything between the two of you, but it didn’t. 

All it did was remind you how worthless you were, that you were just his second best. Maybe the picture that you painted of him looks better in your mind.

You suddenly jump when your window slams shut. It blows open again before slamming once more, your curtains rippling with the wind. You get up, shuffling across the room. You shut the window, drawing the curtains closed, but not before looking out of them to see if Rafe’s car was parked outside. 

It wasn’t.

You lay back down, resting your head on your pillow, starting to stare at the screen again. You make it through a few more episodes of whatever the hell you put on before it suddenly shuts off. Even the show’s characters didn’t want to be with you. Your head is pounding, your throat is dry, and your eyes are red-rimmed and swollen from your tears. Your heart aches, and your lungs sting with every breath you take.

You don’t even move to turn the TV off or try to fix it. You just lay there, crying in the light of the TV static.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

The sun rises, and you don’t get up at first. 

You didn’t want to move, just in case he showed up, but part of you knew deep down that he wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. You fix the TV before laying back down, staring mindlessly at the screen, trying to distract yourself. You reach down onto the floor, grabbing your phone. You check Sofia’s Instagram again. The little pink circle around her picture taunts you. You click on it anyway, wiping the tears out of your eyes.

Joining the remaining stories from yesterday is one new post. A selfie of her with a clay facemask on, one eye closed as she blocks the sunlight with her hand, lounging beside Rafe’s new pool. She’s wearing a necklace with a diamond ‘R’ charm on it, as if she’s personally rubbing it in your face.

You lock your phone, putting it down on the floor before sliding it away with a flick of your wrist. It doesn’t go far, hitting one of the legs of your coffee table. You change the show on your TV, picking some true-crime documentary before laying your head back down.

You watch the show with distant eyes, feeling completely numb. You don’t know why you keep checking her account, knowing it would just make you feel even worse. But you do it anyway, because maybe deep down you deserve it. You think about texting him, asking him if he’s coming over today. But you don’t dare. You don’t want to come off as a clingy whore. 

Your phone buzzes from the floor, vibrating the coffee table, startling you. You stay on the couch, reaching across the floor with one hand and grabbing your phone. You eagerly turn it over, expecting it to be from Rafe, maybe a long apology text, or even just a simple ‘On my way over.’ The phone doesn’t immediately light up. You hate that feature. You tap on the screen, your face immediately falling.

It’s just an email from your electric company about your mid-cycle usage report.

You let out a sharp scream, chucking your phone against the wall. It doesn’t shatter, but it bends around the sharp corner of the plaster.

The scream of frustration is cathartic, but it doesn’t last long. It’s quickly replaced by the feeling of loneliness that has become so common these past few days. But right now, it seems like a million times more unbearable. You start to cry again, burying your face back into your pillow.

The sun sets, and then it gets dark. You don’t move.

You can’t move. What if he comes back? What if this is the time he knocks? You can’t miss them. You can’t miss him. You curl yourself into a pathetic heap on the couch, hoping that he’ll come back. He will. He has to. He has to know how miserable you are. He has to realize how badly he’s hurting you and actually care about it this time. 

But each hour feels even more hopeless than the last. You stay up, wide awake, all night thinking about him. You don’t hear a single knock. You don’t see any headlights or cars pulling up into your driveway. There’s nothing but crickets in the distance and the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

You barely pay attention to the show in front of you, staring with unfocused eyes at the screen. The sun starts to rise, casting a soft pink hue onto your living room. You’ve been sitting on your couch for two days, waiting for a man who probably doesn’t want you. Two days. Two days of sitting here, hoping, praying that he would come back. Two days of sitting here like a fool, waiting for a man who’s with someone else.

Yet you can’t seem to find the motivation to get up. You can’t. Just in case, this time, he shows up.

Your head throbs, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You shut your eyes, burying your face in your pillow. You wish you were laying your head on his chest instead. Your thoughts are too loud, too consuming, too overwhelming. It’s hard to think clearly, to sort things out in your head. You’re so exhausted, mentally and physically, that you start to doze off.

You fall asleep, face buried in your mascara stained pillow.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Your eyes suddenly shoot open when you feel your shoulder being shaken and a hand on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Wake up, I’m here.” Rafe’s voice is like music to your ears. Soft, low, deep. You feel his large hand against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he tries to gently coax you awake. He’s here. After two long days of no food, no shower, no company except your own miserable thoughts, he’s here.

“Rafe?” You ask, head and body aching from two days of laying completely still on your uncomfortable Ikea couch.

“Yeah, baby. I’m here.” Rafe says, his voice soft and gentle. His fingers trail along your cheek, his hand so big against your face. He tries to hide it, but you can see the slight grimace on his face as he takes you in. “Are you okay? I tried calling you this morning, but you didn’t answer.”

You glance around, trying to take in your surroundings. You finally fell asleep, and judging by the slowly setting sun, you slept for a while. “My phone, I um…” You gesture to the smashed phone laying across the room.

Rafe sighs, his brow furrowing as he glances over to your smashed phone. “I’ll buy you a new one.” He says, looking back at you. His expression falls, and his eyes narrow. “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Two days.” You say, sitting up. You’re still in the same crop top and miniskirt, your hair starting to feel greasy and itchy.

“Jesus, baby.” Rafe exhales, shaking his head. “Have you eaten anything?” He asks, brushing your messy hair out of your face gently.

“I was waiting for you.” You say, completely ignoring his question. “You said you would come back. I was waiting for you.” You look up at him, feeling completely and utterly pathetic.

His eyes soften, his hand moving to cup your face in his palm. “I know. And I came back, like I promised.” He says soothingly, his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Baby, you look terrible.”

“No, you promised me two days ago that you would come back.” You say, your voice growing thick as you start to cry again. “You said after your brunch date with Sofia that you would come back.”

Rafe opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He doesn’t say anything for a while, as if trying to come up with something to say. His expression shifts slightly, from sympathetic to something else, something almost akin to guilt. He sighs, finally speaking, “I’m sorry. I know. I didn’t realize how late it was until it was too late to swing by here.”

“So you left me hanging for an extra day?” You ask, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear.

“I’m sorry, alright?” He says, still gentle, but a hint of irritation is there. “I know I said I’d-… I said I’d come back, but I lost track of time, baby. I had to hang out with her for a while to keep up appearances.”

“Oh, fuck you and your appearances!” You say, standing up. You lose balance, reaching down with one hand to balance yourself on the arm of the couch. “Just admit that you didn’t want to see me.”

Rafe reaches out to steady you on your feet, frowning. “That’s not-… I did want to see you.” He says, his voice growing sterner, more irritated. “But I had other obligations. I had to keep up appearances. I told you that.”

“Don’t expect me to believe that bullshit, Rafe.” You say. You try to pull away from him, but he tightens his grip on your arm. “You can just dump me, you know.”

“Yeah? So can you.” He snaps back, his grip on your arm tightening even more.

Your face and eyes twitch slightly, your chest aching. You feel so stupid. Your breathing starts to escalate, coming out of your nose in short puffs. “Let go of me.”

“No.” He says, his voice hard, stern. He still grips your arm tightly, not wanting to let you go. He knows you well enough to understand that you would storm off, maybe even lock yourself in your bedroom. Both of Rafe’s hands move to your hips, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“No!” You shout, trying to pull away. You twist around, reaching down and trying to tug his hands apart. “You can’t do this to me!”

“Baby, look at me! I said, look at me!” Rafe raises his voice, finally using his strength against you, pinning you against his chest with his arms around your waist. He’s got you pressed flush against him now, one hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to face him, your neck craning. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, sweetheart.”

You squirm and wiggle, starting to cry. “You can’t treat me like this!”

His grip tightens, his jaw tensing as he grips your chin and face roughly. It almost feels like he’s manhandling you, forcing you to stay in place as he glares at you. His blue eyes have a hard edge to them. “I will treat you anyway I damn well please, sweetheart. You’re in no place to make demands or tell me what I can and can’t do. I said, look at me.”

You finally meet his gaze. You just sit in his grasp, sniffling as more and more tears threaten to fall. Your bottom lip trembles, and you wonder if you look as pathetic as you feel.

Rafe sighs, his expression growing soft. He loosens his grip on your face, his thumb caresses your cheek. He takes a deep breath, counting to four. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.” In one swift motion, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he makes his way towards your bathroom.

“No! Let go of me!” You whine, pounding your fists against his back.

“Quit it.” He snaps, reaching behind his back and grabbing both of your wrists, yanking your hands away from him as best he can. “I swear to god, sweetheart, I will spank you if you don’t stop punching me in the back.” He pushes open the bathroom door, setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, your wrists still in his grip. He turns on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before turning to you with a sigh. “Take off your clothes, sweetheart.”

“No.” You whine, trying to tug your wrists away.

He scoffs, exasperated. “I’m tired of having to repeat myself to you, baby. You’re gonna take a goddamn shower even if I have to force you to, so drop that attitude real quick, or I’ll strip you myself.” He leans in closer, his eyes darkening, his jaw clenching again. “You wanna be bratty and defiant with me? I can get real bratty with you right back, sweetheart. Real bratty.”

Your eyes water and your bottom lip trembles. Rafe sighs, taking another deep breath. He had to be nicer to you. “You gotta shower, baby, come on.” He grabs the bottom of your crop top gently, thumb rubbing along the hem.

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks. When your scalp starts to itch, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, mascara smeared, you realise he’s right. You raise your arms up.

“Good girl.” He says, sounding relieved. He reaches behind you to grab the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up over your head. He can see how exhausted you are, how awful you look and how horrible you must feel. He gently drops your shirt on the floor, gently running a hand through your hair with a sigh. He reaches behind you and grabs the waist strap of your skirt. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You obey, lifting your hips.

Rafe slides the skirt off your hips and down your thighs, setting it on top of your shirt on the floor. He then grabs the waistband of your panties, kissing your hipbones as he tugs them off of your legs and adds them to the pile of discarded clothing. He then reaches forward, gently running his fingers through your hair. “You’re so pretty, baby.” He says, his voice quiet.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

He can tell that you’re still upset with him, and while he’s annoyed by it, he tries to maintain his composure, trying to be patient with you. He steps back, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside before undoing his jeans. “Come on, pretty girl. Get in the shower while I undress.”

You nod, standing up on shaky legs and stepping into the shower. Your muscles instantly relax under the water as you step in, back facing the water.

Rafe watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your body before you shut the curtain. He quickly discards the rest of his clothes. Slowly, deliberately, he steps into the shower behind you, not wanting to startle you. He reaches over and moves you a little to the side, giving him room under the water to stand with you. He gently spins you around so your back is facing him, the water hitting your chest. He glances around the built-in ledges of your shower. “Where’s your stuff?” 

You point to the metal shelves you stuck onto the wall, full of expensive products, all gifts from Rafe.

He glances over at the shelf, noticing how neat and precise everything is. Rafe laughs as he grabs your shampoo. “God, you always gotta have everything organized.” He teases, pulling you against his chest with an arm wrapped around your torso, his strong hand pressed against your stomach. He kisses your shoulder before lifting your hair away from your neck to kiss there, his chest and abdomen pressed flush against your back. 

He pours a fair amount of the shampoo into his hand, setting the bottle down. He hasn’t had to actually wash his hair in so long, he forgot what a normal amount of shampoo looks like. He rubs his hands together, lathering it up before starting to gently massage into your scalp. “Keep your head tilted back so you don’t get anything in your eyes.”

You tilt your head back, reaching back and putting your hands on his ribs to keep steady.

He hums in approval as his fingers work, rubbing and massaging your scalp. His body is relaxed against your naked curves, his fingers now working through your hair slowly, ensuring it’s completely lathered before he moves onto the conditioner. He keeps the conditioner in your hair while he washes your body. You reach up and grab your face wash yourself, squirting some into your hands before thoroughly washing your face, trying to get the two-day-old mascara off. Rafe keeps his arm wrapped around your upper body so you can keep leaning against him.

After rinsing yourself clean, he turns the water off, pushing the shower curtain open. He grabs a towel for himself off of the hook by the shower, stepping out. “C’mere, baby.” He says quietly.

You step out, watching as he wraps the towel tight around his waist. He grabs another from your linen closet, holding it open for you. “Arms up, sweetheart.” He says, waiting for you to obey, and you do, lifting your arms. 

Rafe quickly wraps the towel around you, gently rubbing your body to dry you off. He then pulls you close, hugging you. One hand holds the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. He’s been craving the feel of your bare skin for the past two days, and it was nice to finally feel it again. “I’m sorry.” He says, quietly, sincerely. His lips graze your forehead.

“Why couldn’t you have just texted me?” You ask.

Rafe pauses, sighing. He was worried this would come up at some point. He tries to choose his words wisely, so he won’t start a fight so soon after the initial one. “Because… I…sweetheart, I was trying to keep a low profile with her.” His voice is just above a whisper. “Texting you would have let her know there was something going on.”

You shake your head. “You could’ve texted me and then immediately deleted the conversation. She wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I thought of that,” He starts, his brow furrowing. “But the thing is…she looks at my phone sometimes. So I just didn’t want to risk it, alright?”

You look away as he starts to dry your hair with the towel. “I wish things were different. I wish you could change.”

“That’s not fair, baby.” He says, his voice holding a hint of warning. He’s annoyed with you again, but he tries not to lash out this time, especially when taking into account how much he missed you. “You act like I don’t want things to be different.” He runs the towel over your head, gently squeezing your hair to wring out the excess water. “Do you even have enough respect to see me try?”

Your breath hitches. You watch him as he finishes with your hair, wrapping the towel around your chest. 

“I love you, Rafe.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you realise you even said them. “Of course I have respect for you. Of course I want you to try.”

Rafe pauses, his shoulders relaxing as his expression softens. He smiles at you, his eyes looking into yours. He grabs your hips, his thumbs rubbing along the soft skin there. He sighs, closing his eyes. “Then don’t act like I’m evil when I do try.” His voice is quiet, soft. “I mean it. Stop acting like I’m a complete ass to you, sweetheart, because I have been fucking trying.”

He didn’t say he loved you. You don’t care how crazy and clingy you sound at this point, you have to know. “Do you love me too?”

Rafe opens his eyes, his expression growing serious all of a sudden. He pauses for a moment, searching the gaze of your eyes. His hands on your hips move to your lower back, wrapping around you and pulling you close against his chest. His chest is warm against your bare breasts, his body firm and strong. “Baby, that’s a stupid question.”

“You didn’t answer it.” At least just lie and say yes. Please just say that you love me more.

He sighs, his grip on you growing tighter. One of his hands moves up to the back of your neck, holding you in place. He lifts your chin up with a single finger, looking into your eyes. “Loves never meant much to me, sweetheart. I mean… Ward told me that he loved me, and you know exactly what he did.” Rafe brushes his thumb across your cheek. “But…yes, I do love you. You’re the only one I truly love.”

“Promise?” You ask, your voice quiet.

Rafe holds that strong eye contact for a few more seconds before his face softens more, his gaze softening in his eyes. “I promise, sweetheart. I swear on my life. I don’t love anyone else as much as I love you.” His other hand runs up and down your sides, fingers spreading across your skin.

“Not even Sofia?” You ask.

“Especially not her.” He says, pulling you even closer against his chest. He’s growing agitated again. “I told you this before. Everything with her is fake, completely fake. I’m with her for appearances. All she is, is a pretty face.”

You want to believe him, so you do. You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Rafe sighs, relieved that you seem to finally understand. He rubs your back, one hand wrapping around your neck to keep you held against him. He kisses the top of your head, resting his chin on top like before. “Don’t ask me that question again, sweetheart.” He says, his voice gentle, yet stern. “You know I only love you, there’s no need for you to ask such dumb questions.”

You nod. “Can you stay tonight?”

He sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I can stay tonight.” He takes your chin in his hand again, tilting your face up to look at him. “Can you promise me something, though?”

You take a deep breath. “Anything.”

His brow furrows again, his thumb rubbing along your jawline. “Don’t ever doubt my love for you, alright? I can’t deal with that self-loathing bullshit you pull sometimes, sweetheart, you got that?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. You weren’t expecting that. But at this point, you’re so desperate to lay down with him that you’ll do anything he wants. “I promise, Rafe.”

He smiles, kissing your forehead. “Good girl.” He says, his voice gentler. “Now, let’s get you into bed, hm?” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to bed. He lays down next to you, tucking you in before handing you his phone. “Pick out what new phone you want.” When you look confused, he sighs. “I told you I would buy you a new one because you destroyed yours.”

Oh, yeah. This has been the longest two days of your entire life, and you weren’t even sure if any of that actually happened.

Rafe unlocks his phone before handing it to you, picking something to watch from the small TV on your dresser. You scroll through his pages of unorganised apps, before finally finding Google, typing in the newest iPhone model. You buy yourself a new phone in your favourite colour, all on Rafe’s dime. You’re tempted to text Sofia pretending to be Rafe and tell her it’s over, and to leave you alone, but you don’t. Rafe loved you, and Rafe wanted you. He could dump her himself.

You lock his phone, handing it back to him. He sets it on your bedside table, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

If it’s meant to be, then it will be.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

let me know what you think my lovelies!

part 3 is here!

★taglist: @ietss, @loves0phelia, @drewsphswife, @pillowprincess4him, @maybankslover, @theeternaloptimistt, @jumpme300, @xcinnamonmalfoyx, @matthewswifeeee. reply to this post if you would like to be tagged! italics mean i couldn't tag you! x

[dipperscavern]

your cregan thoughts changed my life. They are literally canon idgaf…

how do you feel about the stark men and their possessiveness 🫠🫠🫠 Because i knowww they don’t play about their women, especially cregan ohhhhh myyy goddddd. do you think they’re prone to jealousy… Lots to think about. lots to ponder.

POSSESSIVE STARK MEN!! POSSESSIVE STARK MEN I SAID!! i’m very very glad u enjoy my cregan thoughts, thank u sm for this delicious ask <33

as we’ve established, stark men are gentlemen. not just the starks, but northmen themselves don’t play about their women. and there’s also a difference between possessiveness & jealousy… lord so many thoughts. so many things to ponder.

okay, so, as for cregan, he’s very assured. very confident & unwavering in his loyalty to you, and your loyalty to him. cregan can get possessive, but he mainly thinks people ogling over you is funny, because he’s completely confident in your devotion to each other. you usually make your way over to him yourself, and he’ll pull you in by your hips as he teases about the man hitting on you. unless he sees them making you uncomfortable or overstepping — he doesn’t tolerate that. making his way over to pry you away… but honeslty sometimes someone just gets under his skin & he just wants you all to himself. maybe he can get a little jealous…. he does jest in jealousy sometimes though. i could see him wanting your attention. pulling you toward him & away from whatever had your attention if he was feeling particularly needy, jokingly muttering a-

“Come here, you’ve got me jealous.”

robb is so possessive & jealous nobody speak to me. nobody SPEAK to me right now. it’s just so innate/natural for him, you could be talking to anyone and his hands would twitch with the need to pull you away. he really does try and control himself, but he lets it slip sometimes when bedding you.

“You’re mine, yeah? C’mon, wanna hear you say it.”

it’s especially bad during the war, because he’s so frustrated all the time. his emotions are at an all time high, and he can’t find it in himself to try and mask how close he wants you to him & how far away he wants you from other people. “Will you just-“ & he grabs you by your cloak, pulling you to him. “Come here.” he doesn’t have time to hide his emotions when there’s so much on his plate. just let him have what he wants, honestly. 🙄

jon is quietly possessive. he’s never really had anything of his own before, he wants you alllll to himself. i don’t think he’s really jealous, unless you’re pushing his buttons on purpose. the prospect of you being his turns him on sooooo badly, though. you could be talking about how a man of the nights watch hit on you, just murmuring a small-

“Wasn’t interested. ‘M yours, anyway.”

hearing u say that.. and yep! you’re getting it tongiht! his eyes darken and everything before stalking closer to you to press his lips to yours tee hee. wait do y’all think he would… mmm. deep, slow thrusts while telling you-

“Say it again.”

[tinydefector]

Okay. You've got me invested on the newest installation of Human Effects.

Now I can't stop imagine both Humans and Mechs alike having some sort of Google Form where they click on the Human/Mech they want to fuck and see which is the most desired amongst their respective species.

Now that I think about it, I think there'll be a lot of fighting. And chaos.

But then again, we live for the drama.

Human Effects Lost Records

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: talk of sex, human/alien, pornhunting

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Masterlist

Lab logs

Did I take this as an opportunity to merge Human effects and laboratory logs together into a series yes I did. I'll be working on the human Effects timeline where human Effects 2 is spin-off pieces from the mainline.

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The Holo, cyber and inter webs had a strange beauty to them. It has given many the ability to communicate with different planets, species, to share culture, laughter, debates, videos And all sorts thanks to the many different satellites floating out in space. Everyone also enjoyed it for the use of downtime the most. Some had taken to enjoying Earth's entertainment platforms such as YouTube, Netflix and many other sights, others fell into more depraved sights such as Reddit, Twitter,Tumblr, Pornhub, interlink, Processed and other sights. 

Commlink: post Humans Aboard BLO freight.

BigBotNoStop: Alright mechs, I come bearing an inquiry. As you may have heard from some of my last posts, the newest additions to our crew are a thriving colony of soft, squishy humans. Word in the taproom is some have taken quite an interest in... extending cultural exchanges, if you catch my drift. Not really my field of experience and was hoping some of Xeno's here might have some input. 

Posted to Sublink: Human and cybertronian relationships?

But I'm curious, are interspecies acts even possible without harm? Their frames seem so fragile. One wrong motion and SPLAT! No more humans. quite a few members of our crew have shown interest in flirting... Thoughts? Suggestions for how to proceed with care- help a mech out!

Blazemech: Yo! You got fleshies on your ship! Fragging jealousy!. Your ship is looking for any dock workers?

TailOrTrails: Oh Primus, are we really having this discussion?? Look, I get the appeal of those soft little flesh bags. Really, I do - different wiring can be so freakin' hot. But there's no way a romp with one of those puny things ends well for them! Even accidentally bumping into a table puts them in the medbay. Think of the mess, One wrong thrust and you've got squish all over your plating.

ISOCLEAN: Just download some holofacing and use your imagination if you're that jonesing for an organic interface. Trust me, it's not worth the risk - or hassle of cleaning up after. sure you can find something from the Human sites on Mechanophilia, slutty Show and shine or Car Washes. Stay shiny and keep those servos to yourself, mechs! Some curiosities are better left to fantasies.

Flyboi69: Don't leave a mech hanging, I want deets!, has anybot here actually gotten friendly with a fleshie before? I'm talking about hands-on experience. We've all gotten curious watching, but has the real thing lived up to the fantasy? 

Pimptheride: Any tips for coaxing one into the berth, or does their tiny size mean you've got to take it slow and gentle? And most importantly... any videos out there of the deed? A mech's gotta do some, ah, research before taking the plunge. Hook a brother up if you've found any good amateur organic-on-mech action out there in the 'net. Gotta see it to believe it. 

ScienceSorcerer: For reasons. Does anyone know if humans have both Spikes and Valves? Or if they have any human anatomy holos or books and such from Earth they are willing to sell for some decent Shanix.  

T-Wrexz: Primus, you mechs are hungrier than fragging scraplets. As far as I know, relations between our kinds are still uncharted territory. Could be amazing, could end badly - who's to say until we try? Personally I'm keeping an optic out, just curious to see what new experiences those squishy aliens can offer us tough metal mechs. 

Bar-rizzla: Oho, look who's swapping tall tales. I've been keeping a close optic on our ships squishy company since they came aboard. And between you and me... I may have an in with their ambassador that could lead to some juicy first-hand intel. Just trying to track down the bot we think they are berthing with. Crews got bets out. Turns out they get just as curious about us big metal hunks as we are them!. The other night, their chat got particularly saucy after a few drinks. Lots of gossip and speculation about which lucky bot one of them might take for a private ride. 

WPHAS-Violation: I may have a certain special "human entertainment" vid I could share. Let's just say the organic in question got quite... friendly with an eager mini-con. You know where to find me if you're brave enough to watch! 

Tapemix54: Oho, mechs - think you've got it bad now? You should've seen some of the real deviants back before the war. When I was still stationed on Petrex, I knew this one smuggler - went by the name Rattler. Sneaky little scraplet, but Primus if he didn't have the wildest stories. Rattler used to run goods across time and space, dodging security at every turn. He'd pop up out of nowhere selling the rarest exotic "pets" to rich senators and other high caste mechs looking for a thrill. I'm talking aliens so bizarre even our data banks had never heard of their kind. But the highest bidder always walked away with a new "plaything" to break in, if you catch my drift. Word was Rattler even had a collection of sentient organics that he'd let special clients "test drive" between runs. Humans were apparently a favourite - their smaller frames could take all sorts of creative handling. Rattler had vids, too, of course, to entice buyers. I saw one once, let's just say "versatile" doesn't begin to cover it. Naturally the vids have all been scrubbed by now. But I bet if you knew where to dig in the deep web or some easily swayable Archivist, you might find traces of Rattler's stash still floating around out there.

 T-Wrexz: Whoa, whoa, slow your intake there tapemix! As much as I love a good far-fetched tale, I gotta call scrap on this one. Humans weren't even around back then, much less roaming the streets of Rodion as black market pets, I'm all for imagining exotic interface scenarios, but let's keep the stories at least somewhat rooted in known history, yeah?. Last I checked it was probably fabricated by Caminus cartels to make their actual goods seem tame. 

A few other mechs agree with T-Wrexz before a few kliks later a new post is put up. 

Post: 

"Old Iacon records saved of the Senator and his human Conjunx”

It's a file collection of holotapes and pictures: "Enjoy these are pre war photos of Senator Shockwave and his Human holding their sparkling" 

There are many holos and videos of the long gone senator smiling with his human perched on his shoulder, in the crystal garden with a young sparkling held in the human's arms. Videos of the sparkling playing with the two but the last The last holo looks like a family portrait with Shockwave’s frame in a lime green blue white paint with gold accessories,  his human lover is dressed in elegant robes and the small blue praxian sparkling held in their arms. Each holo is dated with the Iacon records seal of authentication. 

FlyBoi69: NO FREAKIN' WAY. Is this real?! *downloads files faster than Blurr* FRAG ME SIDEWAYS, I think I just popped a gasket! How in the PIT did you manage to dig up the holos of senator Shockwave, most of his speeches, debates and lectures were wiped. Where did you find this! 

Jackin0: of all mechs, with an actual human back in the Golden Age?!. I'm calling scrap on this being real. It's gotta be a flawless deepfake. By PRIMUS if true - to think ol' Shockers was living it up with a squishy. Maybe there's more to those Senatorial types than meets the optic...

T-Wrexz: Okay, I'll bite... but someone better explain to me RIGHT NOW how any of this computes! Last I checked, time travel and inter-species relationships were the stuff of erotic imagination, not legitimate pre-war archives. Tapemix, you better start talking. Where in the PIT did you source these files? How do we know they're authentic and not just an incredibly convincing parlour trick? Because if I'm gonna let these images ruin me, I wanna be ruined by the real deal! Spill it, mech. 

Iacon-Records: Tapemix54 could i please request where you discovered these as i work with Iacon records and this here is history that needs to be preserved. I'm willing to talk with you through a contractor if you would be willing for us to add these back into the new hall of records. Cybertron has lost so much and to find something like this I ask that we find a way to preserve it.  

BigBotNoStop: Pit take me now... I think I may have to reassess everything I thought I knew about interface and partnerships. That human is holding a sparkling curled around them - frag if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! If anything could make me believe in miracles, it's this! Tapemix, you glorious glitch - how can I ever repay such an enlightening gift?

Tapemix54: These were filed only cycles after Shockwaves Emputra; they were added to the Iacon records by some Archivist under the title. 'I will Remember you for who you were'. This was right when the senate fell apart on the brink of the war. From my knowledge of information on Rattler he apparently had an outlier who he got to take them to different times since he was a shuttle made it easier to transport. That's from the  records that still exist at least. I'll take you up on that offer Iacon-records. 

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[sansaorgana]

I love soft Benny sm, but can we have some smut? 🥺 maybe he and the reader in the car after a picnic

hi, baby! 😘 thank you for your request and I am terribly sorry that you had to wait so long but I had lots of things on my head 😭 I missed writing and I missed writing for Benny so it's quite long and it's basically porn WITH plot 🤣😊 The Reader here doesn't have a good relationship with her family and her biggest wish is to run away somewhere with Benny – meanwhile his biggest wish is for her to marry him (Benny being Benny 🙄 lol)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

my requests are currently closed 🙅🏻‍♀️

Benny wasn’t visiting you at work every day but when he was – it was your favourite moment of the day. He would always order the same thing and sit in the same place on the barstool by the counter. He was not a man of many words so sometimes he would just sit there and watch you work for half an hour before leaving and hopping back onto his bike. But it was enough for you – to just have him around. It made you feel safe, loved and appreciated. 

You enjoyed the way the whole diner would go silent the moment he entered the place with those lazy, heavy steps. You liked the way you immediately knew it was him by the sound of his boots and by the smell of gasoline and cigarettes. His hands, dirty with grease, handing you a few crumpled dollar bills from the depths of his worn out jeans’ pockets. He was a dream come true for a girl like you. A girl who had never found anything exciting about all those ordinary guys your friends had been trying to trap ever since high school. Those proper guys, those football team captain guys, those college high achiever guys… No, they all lacked something for you. Benny had it, though, even though you couldn’t quite name it but it didn’t matter. He was not a man of many words anyway.

“Wanna go out with me later tonight? Join the picnic?” He mumbled on that day when you were taking an empty plate from him with a few toast crumbles left on it.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded. You had a day off on the next day so you didn’t mind staying up late. “You gonna pick me up?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m gonna get a car, okay? You can wear a dress if you wanna,” Benny said and cleared his throat before standing up and throwing a few crumpled dollar bills on the counter as usual. Without any other word, he walked out of the diner slowly, making heavy and slow steps.

You grabbed the money and watched him through the window for a while. You smiled to yourself when you saw him hopping onto his bike and driving away while the engine roared.

You wondered why he decided to take the car and whose car was it but it didn’t matter, honestly. You liked riding a bike with him but cars were more comfortable and he was right – you could wear a dress. And Benny loved you in dresses even though he never actually ordered you what to wear. However, when you had met him, you were wearing a cute pink dress but as your relationship had been progressing, you had bought more and more jeans and black leather pants for bike riding.

Tonight, you decided to surprise him and wear the very same cute pink dress that you had been wearing on the day you met.

You were a little bit nervous waiting for Benny on your driveway. You knew that your mother was staring angrily through the half-opened window with a cigarette in her hand, squinting her eyes at the car your boyfriend had driven here in. You recognised it immediately as Johnny’s.

The sun was slowly going down and you were hugging your own self even though you didn’t feel cold at all but you were anxious about your mother watching you and about the dress you had worn. What if Benny would find it silly? He was not exactly a very romantic type even though he had proposed to you on the second date.

You had declined, of course. But you had been very tempted and sometimes you had regretted your decision. If you had been his wife, you wouldn’t have to live with your mother anymore and life with her was not easy. Especially now when she was angry at you for dating a man like Benny.

Benny didn’t leave the car, though. He parked the vehicle and his arm lazily hung out from the window. There was a cigarette in his hand and he nodded at you to come over.

“Won’t you walk out and open the door for me like a gentleman?” You giggled as you leaned by the car’s window.

“Not when your mother’s killing me with her hawk eyes,” Benny snorted. “Get your ass inside, dollie.”

You nodded with a chuckle and sat in the passenger seat. The moment you closed the door behind you, Benny started the engine and drove away as fast as possible. He placed his hand on your thigh and you grabbed it with both of yours to play with his long fingers and the rings he was wearing.

“Why did you take Johnny’s car?” You asked, looking up at him.

“He wanted me to do him a favour and I needed a car with a big trunk for that. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, yeah, sweetheart?” Benny answered without even looking at your face but you noticed his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel and you immediately knew it was one of the mysterious jobs he was being assigned to do around the club.

It was the source of his money and you never asked because you didn’t have to be a genius to know it was nothing legal and nothing safe. You didn’t want to know but you were awfully worried.

“I would go crazy if something happened to you, you know that, right?” You only asked and swallowed thickly.

“I know,” he nodded but still didn’t look at you.

“Do you like my dress?” You changed the subject quickly and Benny finally laid his baby blue eyes on you. He looked you up and down with a slight smirk before looking back on the road.

“I do,” he answered. “You look fucking beautiful, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, Benny,” you felt your cheeks heating up and you had to look away, too. You kept holding his hand but your eyes were focused on the road now.

You loved those picnics. They made you feel like you were a part of something and that was a feeling you had missed your whole life. Your family was far from perfect and you had never felt like you truly had it – a family. They were just a bunch of people you shared some genetic code with. At school and at work you never truly had friends either. Not that you had been a complete loser, no. And those girls you had been hanging around with probably thought you were close. But you knew it was not true. You had never felt any deep connection to them and you had never been interested in what they were talking about because they mostly talked about boys. All those boys you didn’t find interesting at all.

But women here – the women dating The Vandals – they understood you. They all were here for different reasons but you all shared this one quality that made you attracted to men like those bikers. They were outcasts and it took lots of bravery and lots of rebelliousness to love a man like that.

Some of those girls were just like their men – dirty with grease, downing one beer after another, loud and vulgar. Some were party girls who wanted to have fun. Some were ordinary wives and mothers. You felt like you were all of them at once and none of them at the same time. But just like them – you were there and you were enjoying it. Sitting by the fire and sipping on the beverage Benny had brought you, gossipping with the women and laughing as the guys watched and talked by their bikes and cars. Sometimes they were showing tricks on their motorbikes or playing games.

The night was warm and you watched the sky as the sparks from the fire danced in the air. Nights like this should never end, you thought. And just when you were smiling to yourself about it, Benny approached you and put his hand on your shoulder to squeeze it gently.

“It’s time for us, baby,” he announced.

“So early?” You batted your eyelashes.

“Most people are goin’ back home now,” he pointed out and you looked around. He was right, you just hadn’t noticed, too distracted by your staring at the sky and daydreaming.

“Okay then,” you nodded and put down the coke bottle. “Bye!” You waved at the few girls who were still sitting there and they waved back at you.

Benny walked you to Johnny’s car and this time he opened the door for you like a gentleman. You chuckled and got inside but when the door behind you closed, you suddenly felt an odd and sad feeling deep in your gut. You realised that this night was truly about to be over now and you didn’t like it.

With a heavy heart, you watched Benny getting behind the steering wheel and starting the engine. He noticed your weird behaviour, though.

“What is it, doll?” He asked when you were on the road leading back to the city already.

“I don’t wanna go back home, Benny. Not yet,” you looked down and began to play nervously with the hem of your dress.

“We don’t gotta go home, baby,” Benny said after a short while of silence but you didn’t say anything to that. It was an empty promise if he hadn’t actually proposed anything. “I ain’t got a lotta money on me, sweetheart,” Benny sighed as he glanced at you nervously. The whole idea of him not being able to actually provide for you was a touchy subject for him.

“We don’t have to go to the motel, Benny,” you quickly said although you couldn’t understand how he could be broke after doing a job for Johnny. It was between them two, though. “We can simply ride around. It’s Johnny’s gas, right?” You bit on your lower lip and Benny chuckled at that as he nodded.

“Yeah, baby, it’s Johnny’s gas, so we can use it all and ride around,” he agreed and you smiled widely at that. “You wanna ride ‘round town or what?”

“Maybe we could go somewhere private,” you nodded. “To the forest?” You proposed. There was a secluded spot Benny sometimes was taking you to on his motorbike.

One thing about Benny that had been surprising to you at first but then it totally made sense later was that he loved nature.

“Sure, we can do that,” Benny nodded and you leaned back in the seat with a sigh of relief. With each passing moment you were more and more further away from Chicago and from your home with your mother waiting for you inside.

“I wish we could just ride and ride until we reach California,” you whispered. It was not the first time you mentioned it to Benny and you already knew what the answer would be like.

“I can’t. I got the club,” he answered and cleared his throat, a little annoyed by the fact you were constantly bringing this up. “Why are you so crazy about California, huh? Wanna be a movie star, baby?” He tried to turn it into a joke.

“It’s not about California, Benny,” you rolled your eyes. It was not about the California Dreamin’ at all. It was about running away to a sunny place with the love of your life to start over. “What about your cousin in Florida? Maybe we could go there?”

“Why would you even go with me anywhere, doll? I ain’t no good to you,” Benny pointed out but you froze at his words.

“What do you mean you ain’t no good to me?”

“If I was, you’d marry me,” Benny pointed out and now it was your turn to get a little irritated. He was bringing up the marriage subject as often as you were talking about running away.

“I would marry you if we got away from this place,” you crossed your arms and looked out of the window because you didn’t want to see his face at that moment. You were scared of his reaction – you had never made such a promise before.

“You know I can’t. I have my responsibilities here, I have the club,” Benny’s voice broke a little.

“Fuck the club,” you snapped and it made him speechless. You angrily looked back at his confused face. “You always talk about being so free and having no roots, whatever, but it’s all bullshit, Benny,” you huffed.

“You scare me, baby,” he only shook his head but he kept on driving. “You’re crazy-crazy.”

To that, you didn’t say anything and the rest of the drive was quiet. You knew he was right about many things – you really acted crazy sometimes. It was because you were a coward – too scared to change your life on your own. Too scared to go to the bank, take all your savings out and buy a greyhound bus ticket on your own to start a new life somewhere. You wanted to somehow use Benny to get away from this place. But it didn’t change the fact you loved him. You were crazy about him, in fact. And if your fate in life was to end up as his wife in some shitty rented flat in Chicago, you would end up as such.

“Come on, baby, I don’t wanna fight,” Benny sighed as he parked the car near your favourite spot in the forest.

“I don’t wanna fight either,” you sniffed your tears back but refused to look at him. Benny shook his head and put his arm around you to pull you closer and force you to lay your eyes on him.

He was staring at your face for a while with a mix of worry and curiosity in his blue eyes. You were sure that sometimes he would pay real money to find out what was going inside your head but you felt the same towards him so it was only fair.

Benny raised his hand to caress your cheek and wipe off all the tears before leaning in to kiss you sweetly. You kissed him back hungrily and nearly desperately, clinging to him with your fists tangled in the fabric of his jacket to pull him even closer.

“You’re fucked up but sweet,” Benny murmured after breaking the kiss and you chuckled.

“Would you want it any other way?” You asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“No way,” he shook his head before joining your lips together again. Benny deepened the kiss and you moved from your seat clumsily to sit on his lap, tangling your fingers in his golden locks to pull on them slightly as you moaned into his mouth.

You knew that Benny knew that you hadn’t wanted him to take you here to admire nature. Of course, you enjoyed it but when you wanted to go to such a place in the middle of the night it only meant one thing. You had usually been fucking on a blanket by the lake but now you had a car so you wanted to make a use of it.

Benny’s hands grabbed you by your waist and began to squeeze the soft flesh there, pulling the pink dress in the process and revealing more and more of your legs as you were spreading them open until you felt the hardening cock inside his jeans rubbing onto your clothed pussy, making it grow wet.

You reached out to the back of the dress and unbuttoned it there to make it loose around your arms. The stripes fell down immediately, revealing your bra. Benny’s long and skilled fingers unclasped it and threw it in the backseat as he groaned at the sight of your exposed breasts.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed out and you chuckled.

“So are you, baby,” you leaned in to rub your nose with his and peck his lips.

Benny watched your breasts in awe as if it was the first time he had seen them. In the meantime, your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans. When you could finally grab and squeeze his hardening cock through the fabric of his boxer shorts, Benny kept you balanced with his hands placed flat on your back before leaning in to suck on your breasts. He began with soft kisses around your nipples, scratching you gently with his facial hair, which was making you giggle playfully. Your hands kept working on teasing his cock as he sucked and bit on your breasts to turn you on even further and you could feel your pussy leaking already.

When you felt a small wet spot from Benny’s precum forming on his underwear, you pulled the boxer shorts down and freed his cock. He groaned at the feeling and you moaned at the sight before grabbing it in your hand. You pushed him back for a moment and his eyes widened at the sight of you leaning in and spitting slowly on the tip of his red and swollen tip.

“Fuck,” his eyes rolled back and you giggled before starting to pump his cock with your hand firmly, setting up a fast and steady pace. Benny started to dig his fingernails in the soft skin of your back but he was trying to stop himself from scratching you too much. Your free hand grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to open his eyes and focus them on you again. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, his gasps barely audible.

“And all yours, Benny, baby,” you assured him and at those words, he groaned and moved his hands back to your hips. One of his hands went lower to pull your panties aside and reveal how wet and sticky you were already for him.

You guided his cock to your entrance and sank on it slowly, savouring every moment as your walls clenched around his length, which was filling you up sweetly and stretching you out. You hissed and threw your head back as your eyes rolled and Benny kept squeezing your hips to keep you steady and control the pace.

When you finally had him whole deep inside of you, Benny gave you a moment to adjust. A moment filled with your deep and loud breaths and his face pressed to your chest as he went back to sucking on your nipples.

Eventually, you looked down and put your hands on his shoulders for balance as you began to roll your hips and ride him slowly. Benny was an impatient man, though, and he started to help you immediately by pushing his hips up and rutting into you, which made you gasp and moan as your fingernails dug deep into his shoulders.

Benny moved his lips up from your breasts to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there and leaving his hot and wet open-mouth kisses all over. You wondered what Johnny would say if he had known what you were doing inside his car but you shrugged this thought off quickly.

The driver seat was squeaking from all your fucking and you were sure that the car was bouncing itself in the rhythm of your hips but you knew very well that no one would catch you there in the middle of the forest. Parking lots were much more risky. But not this forest, not this place. In fact, it was your place. And perhaps you would be missing it if you managed to get away from Chicago. 

You whined and trembled when Benny’s cock found your sweet spot after you moved slightly and he was able to fuck you in a different angle. You cupped his face to move it away from your neck and he looked up to meet your gaze. His blue eyes were hazy but yours were finding it difficult to focus as well since they were filled with tears of pleasure. You pressed your forehead to his and helped him to fuck you by rocking your hips back and forth.

“I love you, Benny,” you let out a quiet whisper from your lips to his, for nobody else to hear. “I’m gonna marry you, baby,” you promised, picking up the pace.

Your words made him groan and start rutting into you faster as well but his moves were growing chaotic. You didn’t mind, though, because you could feel a knot in your lower abdomen forming already and you were close yourself.

“I’m gonna be your wife. I’m gonna be Mrs. Cross, baby,” you were whispering promises mindlessly, knowing it would bring him closer and it seemed to be working for you, too.

You moved one of your hands down to between your legs to rub on your clit but Benny realised what you were doing so he took one of his hands away from your hip and pushed your hand away to take the lead instead. His fingers found your swollen and achy clit quickly before rubbing circles on it and making you let out choked out sobs as tears of pleasure streamed down your cheeks.

You came with a loud cry of his name, arching your back and throwing your head back while your eyes shut close and your walls clenched around his cock. He came right after you, filling you up with a few grunts and chaotic thrusts.

You gave yourselves a short moment to come off of your highs. You waited for your heartbeat and breath to go back to normal before you relaxed your muscles and fluttered your eyes open to look down at Benny’s fucked out face.

“You look like a mess,” you chuckled in a raspy voice and caressed his face before fixing his ruffled hair.

“So do you, doll,” Benny winked and helped you to get off of his lap, letting his softening cock to slip out of you with a hiss. You felt his cum mixed with your juices leaking down your thigh but you didn’t mind and you just pulled your panties back into their place.

While moving back to the passenger seat, you reached to the backseat for your bra. You put it back on and buttoned your dress back up before fixing your hair nonchalantly with your hand in the mirror of Johnny’s car.

Benny wiped the sweat off of his face with the palm of his hand before pulling his boxer shorts back up and zipping his jeans. He got out of the car and lit himself a cigarette as he leaned on the hood of the car. You gave him a short moment of silence and peace before getting out of the car as well and sitting on the hood next to him. You didn’t say anything, you only put your head on Benny’s shoulder and you stared at the stars above with a loud sigh.

“Did you mean that?” He asked, eventually. There was lots of insecurity in his voice and it was unusual for Benny to feel this way.

“That I’m gonna marry you?” You asked and he nodded after a while of hesitation. “Yeah, why not? I only said no back then because it was our second date. Not because you ain’t no good enough for me, you know?” You looked up and caressed his hair gently.

Benny turned his head around slowly to meet your loving gaze.

“You know, I don’t like all those things Johnny’s askin’ me to do for him these days,” Benny confessed and you furrowed your brows. “I might not ride with the club anymore after all, I dunno yet,” he shrugged his arms. “I been thinkin’ maybe we could go to California after all. Or Florida. Or wherever you want, baby, really, I don’t care. I just wanna be with you, yeah?” Benny joined your foreheads together and you grinned at him.

“Yeah, Benny, I want the same,” you assured him. “Let’s get out of this place, we’re starting to waste here and we deserve so much more.”

“You surely do,” Benny chuckled and pecked your lips before moving his head away to take a drag of his cigarette.

You squeezed his arm tighter and chuckled sadly at his words before leaning to kiss his cheek lovingly.

“So do you, Benny. I’m gonna make you see that one day, baby,” you promised. “But until then, you just gotta believe me when I say that. You’re one of a kind.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[patrophthia]

take you to the basics | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott × hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff, (kinda) established relationships, theo is whipped, even more fluff, everyone are friends, everyone is an idiot, self indulgent, 7th year (after war), theres ginny here too, not beta read, awkward theo bc it’s cute, theo is basically just tall, and not buff ver of jeon wonwoo from svt

word count: 3.9k

is a sequel to love is sour grapes but can be read as a one shot as well!

With as much care as he could muster in his tone, he asks. "Will you give me the honour in courting you?" And then, as if he was realising he's supposed to take things slow -even though his intention was, and will always be, courting me- he corrects himself. "Will you give me the honour of being my girlfriend?"

What a way with words he has. I'd like to think it has something to do with the romance books he'd been reading just so he could have something to talk to me about all these months.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I counter after a beat.

Theodore stayed quiet for the briefest second before: "yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You're my boyfriend."

"Oh." There's a second of silence where neither of us spoke before my face breaks out into a smile, one that he doesn't bother to hold himself back from reciprocating it. "Okay."

Why was life so complicated? Okay, maybe not so much life —why was dating Theodore so complicated? That is if the two of us were even a thing. It was okay at first, now it's just plain out exhausting.

I like him and he knows it. And he likes me, and I know it. So why was things so complicated? We've kissed before, multiple times actually. We've gone on dates where we spent a majority of the time talking about the books we read —although it's more like me talking and him listening with that stone cold face of his, but that was just who he was and I would never change it about him.

What I do want to change though is whatever is going on between us. I've already embarrassed myself in front of him once and I would rather die than do it again. So what should I do in this situation? Talk to my friends apparently.

"I don't get it," says Hermione with a frustrated tone. "You both like each other and he acts like your boyfriend." I nod slowly and she continues. "But he isn't actually your boyfriend."

I nod again. "Yup."

"He didn't ask?" Ginny asks, now having joined our little friend group. Ron and Harry listen reluctantly, not enjoying the girl talk all too much.

"You have to ask?" Ron asks suddenly, obviously clueless. And when Hermione, and Ginny shoot him a look. He turns to his plate, mumbling. "I thought you'd be boyfriends and girlfriends after the third date."

"That's normally how it goes," I said. "After the third date the two of you are technically a thing but it isn't official until one or the other asks to make it official."

"Why don't you ask him?" Harry says suddenly, immediately regretting it when all our attention was fixed on him. "I mean maybe, he —like Ron and I— don't know about these things so he just assumes—"

"That's not excusable," Hermione cuts him off. "He's friends with a girl, Parkinson, so I'm sure she's filled him on this stuff."

"But what if she didn't?" I ask. Okay maybe I had a soft spot for Theo and is trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. And in my defence, I liked him, like a lot, and when you fancy someone, like really fancy them, the red flags tend to look like a dark shade of pink and I'd like to think that pink was a pretty colour.

Plus —and this isn't just an excuse, if I really thought about it, I don't think I've ever seen Theodore go out with anyone before he went out with me. So if he was a rookie at this dating thing, maybe I should be the one leading this relationship.

"Okay then go ask him," Hermione says pettily, she wants me to be happy, she really does, but she can't find it in herself to support me dating someone who can't make it clear what his intentions with me were. "Ask him 'what are we?' Or 'why did you tell me to not smile at other people?' I can't let you be with someone who doesn't know their place with you."

"And what makes you think he doesn't," Ron chimes in between a bite of his snack, when did he get one, I didn't seem to notice.

"You see her?" Hermione asks, she then says my name in the same questioning tone. "She wouldn't be talking to us about this if he did."

"Wait, aren't you supposed to be on a date with him right now?" Ginny says suddenly. "Why are you here?"

"He had last minute plans with Malfoy," I say, and I know, even without looking at her, that Hermione was disappointed with me. "And it wasn't a date."

"Yeah, just two people who fancy each other hanging out," Ron snickered, now being on Mione's side of disapproving of Theo.

"Did he tell you what he was doing with Malfoy?" Harry asks, curious as to what the Slytherins might be up to.

"I don't know," I told him. "I'm already stressing about this whole situation with him that I just accepted and went to find you four. I think I'm just going to take off my makeup, spend the day with you, then try to sleep good tonight."

I then added. "Unless you had plans that didn't include me in it?"

The four shook their heads. "We were just going to go watch Harry and Ginny practice." Hermione says.

"Great," I mumbled, standing up. "I'll come with."

"Wait," Ginny calls out, and I pause in my step, turning to where her voice came from. "I'll be quick."

She points at her shoe and it's then that I notice that it's been untied. Ron, Hermione, and Harry, who seemed to have not heard her, continued their way towards the quidditch pitch. I waited by her side, offering her a hand when she had to get back up.

"You know," she says lowly, "I heard that you're the only person Nott didn't reject, apparently he's pretty popular with the girls."

I shook my head. "That's not true," I say with a slight frown. "When I first asked him out, he just stared at me."

"Which technically isn't a rejection," Ginny smiles sweetly. "More like you rendering him speechless."

That was exactly what Theo told me after my first date with him. "I guess."

"Bloody hell, will you two please speed it up?" Ron shouts at the front of the quidditch pitch, only now realising that we're far behind them.

I felt half the urge to walk even slower, and from the small grin Ginny wore from the corner of my eyes, I'm pretty sure she was thinking the same thing. But Harry and Hermione were also waiting with him, and it was only a matter of time before they started bickering about it as well. So we sped up with our steps.

But just before we reach the pitch, Ginny stops me, yelling for them to go ahead without us. "You want to know a secret?" she asks, I nod. "Since I was Harry's first real girlfriend I had to be the one to ask him to be my boyfriend."

"Are you saying I should be the one to ask?" I murmur. I don't think I would mind doing so, but there was something more romantic about having your date ask you to be your boyfriend.

"No," she says kindly. "Just saying you should nudge him in the right direction."

"So guide him?"

"Yep."

Okay. That is surely something I can do. Now, for me to draw up a plan on how to do it. If I've managed to help take down a dark wizard then surely I can get Theo to ask me to be his girlfriend.

Both Ginny and I step into the quidditch pitch. Slightly taken aback to see more than six players in the field (with Ginny being the missing member), it didn't take us long to register why though.

Neither did it take me long to notice Theo, standing right behind Malfoy as he bickered with Harry. What was happening? And did Theo really ditch our (not) date just to watch his friend's quidditch practice?

"Badger," Blaise says suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to Ginny and I by the entrance. "I see you look pretty as always."

Theodore doesn't even bother to subtly smack his friend in the back of his head. It doesn't affect Blaise though, only finding it amusing to witness.

"What's going on?" Ginny asks.

"We booked this pitch," Malfoy says before Harry could get a word in. "And now you're trying to take it from us."

"No, we booked the pitch." Harry says sternly. "You're the one trying to take it away from us."

Despite Gryffindor and Slytherin (somewhat) friendship after the war ended —and the fact that our friend groups were now mixed because of whatever Theodore and I have going on. They were still competitive people. And they want more than anything to win this year's cup.

"I have an idea," I say, quite honestly done with their stupid rivalry. "How about you practise together?" I say off-handedly, knowing full well that they'd agree to come for my throat. "Just an idea."

"And have they found out about our strategies?" Malfoy scoffs. "I thought you were smarter than this."

Considering that I did better in classes then him, and that Ron agreed with his words. I technically am smarter than him. "Well if you're so sure about your strategies working then it wouldn't hurt if you gave up the pitch for just one practice right?"

Draco was on the brink of agreeing when it hit him, blinking at me. "Oh you're good," he murmurs. "Fine, have the pitch for all I care."

I was more than sure that he was only giving it for my benefits. Sure that if it had been someone else who had said it, he'd only double down and insist that he'd reserved the pitch (he didn't, not a single Slytherin booked the pitch for today). But it seemed as though he had a soft spot for me.

The theory of Slytherins having soft spots for Hufflepuffs gets proven right once more. And I'm more than glad to know that I was the beneficiary of this theory.

Blaise was the first to leave, waving at me as he went as the other Slytherins followed after him, the players grumbling under their breath with their brooms in hand. Theo was the last to leave, lingering just so he could pull me to the side.

A hand on my left arm leads me to a quieter corner of the pitch, just below the benches as the players start to get ready for practice. I don't look him in the eye when I ask him, "what?"

The hostility in my tone wasn't missed by Theo and if I didn't know him the way I did, I would've missed the flash of hurt in his eyes. "What do you want, Nott?"

And Theodore feels as if I was stomping on his heart. He hasn't been called Nott since the two of us started going out. "Are you mad at me?"

My brows furrow. "What do you think?"

"Did I do something wrong?" He follows up, his tone doesn't show it —neither does his face, but he was worried, scared, and quite honestly pissed with himself. "Is it because I cancelled on you? Doll, you said you were okay with it."

"No," I shook my head. Confrontation wasn't something I was fond of, nor was I good at it. So I'll settle with just being upset for now. "I'm not mad at you."

Theodore blinks, seemingly getting whiplash from my words. First I ask him what he thinks, in a —if he wasn't wrong— passive aggressive tone, and now I'm telling him that I'm not mad at him? What.

But he decides to take my words as is, trusting that I'd tell him how I feel despite him not telling me that he honestly feels like he'd fucked him over; ruining his only chance at love —oh, and that he doesn't even know what he did. "I'll see you at dinner?"

"No," I say with a slight shake of my head. "I think I'll have dinner with my friends tonight." Theodore fails to mention that Blaise, Draco, and Pansy were also my friends by now. "Next time?"

Theo nods, agreeing. "Next time."

It has been three weeks and 'next time' has yet to come. He's starting to realise it now: realising that I was actually mad at him when I said I wasn't and it'd be a lie if he said it didn't hurt him. He has somehow made me mad and he wishes more than anything that he was dead —because, quite honestly, he can't stand living if I was mad at him.

He needs to recruit help, he decided. And who better to help him with relationship problems than his friends (who he thinks has more experience with relationships than he does) and my friend (whom he knows has more experience in relationships then he does —take Granger and Weasley for example, the two have been together since fourth year).

"So you think she's mad at you and you don't know why?" Weasley comes to the conclusion after Blaise, who he'd already told the whole story to, summed it up for them. "You seriously don't?"

Theodore nods slowly, there was a slight shift in his stone cold expression, barely catchable by the eye but it was there. And it was that slight shift that reassured Hermione that Theo did actually have good intentions when it came to her friend; he was just clueless on what to do.

"She's upset with you because you said you were busy and left her to watch your friends practice," Ginny offers, it was clear that she was also mad on my behalf.

"That's it?" Malfoy mumbles questioningly. "Something as mundane as that is what we're meeting here for?"

"It might be mundane to you but it's not mundane to her," Harry jumps to my defence. "She's not you, Malfoy."

"Okay, so she's mad at Theo because he ditched her for us?" Blaise asks, trying to get them back on track.

"Don't say it like that," Ginny scoffs. "Phrasing it that way makes her seem selfish, which she's not. She just wants to know where she is with Theo and for him to at least try to prioritise her."

"I do prioritise her," Theo says dumbfounded-ly. He really did, he's spent the last however many months of his life reading cheesy books just to annotate them in hopes that I'd love them, he'd even picked up on cooking just so when (or really, if) we ended live together I'd always have a nice home cooked meal waiting for me. "She said she was okay with it."

"She said she was okay with it thinking that it was something important," Pansy explains, understanding exactly how I feel. She's been placed in the same position before, by no one other than Draco himself. "Thinking that Blaise had a heart attack or something, not a stupid quidditch practice."

"Careful," Draco warns. "You were also at the practice."

Pansy rolls her eyes. "Bite me."

"What do I do then?" Theo asks after a while, picking the topic back up.

And the Gryffindor's try their best to remain normal, never —in the last seven years they'd spent studying in the same castle as him— had they heard him spoken for such a long period of time.

"Well let's take you to the basics," Hermione says. "Where are the two of you right now? In terms of relationship that is."

"We're dating?" He answers slowly.

"No you're not," Ron says loudly. "You haven't asked to be her boyfriend yet."

Draco, clearly befuddled, says. "You have to ask?"

Pansy nods. "Of course," she says. "I thought you knew?" And then, after a beat, she adds. "Maybe that's why we didn't work out."

Draco rolls his eyes, mumbling something along the line of his fathers as he does so. "So what should he do then?"

"Apologise for what he did then make it clear what the two of you are." Harry explains, he's done this before, he did it when he first went out with Ginny —so really, he's speaking from experience. "From then on you take things slow so you can work out the kinks of your relationships.

Okay, he thinks he gets it. He has to apologise, make things clear, then take things slow. Surely he can do it.

Now for him to actually do it.

STEP ONE: apologise

Which is, more often than not, easier said than done.  Theodore has half the heart to buy something nice in order of winning me over but he knew me better. And he knew that I wasn't with him for his money. So he ought to do better. And he thinks he knows how to do it.

To apologise he should do something heartfelt, which was why he'd found himself learning to plant my favourite flower. He'd rather die than apologise to the one person he cherished more than anything empty handed.

He sees the few cuts on his hand from his attempt at gardening and he hopes that I don't notice it. He doesn't want me to notice his imperfections when I was (to him) perfect in every sense. He likes me every time he sees me, I was exactly his type and he hopes I know it.

He doesn't want to mess this up. He doesn't want to mess us up. And he's really trying his best not to.

With our shoes almost touching, Theo stood tall from my seat on Hogwarts many benches with a planted pot in hand. "I'm sorry," he says first and I mask my surprise at his words. "I won't do it again."

He doesn't bother beating around the bush, with a gift in hand, safe to say I'm impressed. If not a little bit amused by how frustrated he looks.

"Why?" I ask, a hand reaching for the plant and Theodore hesitatingly hands it over, his own fingers brushing against my own. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because I ditched you for—"

"Sweetheart, I told you that it was fine."

Theodore's pretty sure his brain is short circuiting. He's heard every variation of his name by now. All of which he can recall from the top of his head. Theodore, Theo, Nott, even Teddy from that ex-girlfriend he had back in kindergarten. But sweetheart is different.

And he thinks he likes it. He thinks he likes it when he's called sweetheart. He thinks he likes it because he likes me. And I was the one calling him sweetheart.

"But your friends—" he pauses, correcting himself "—our friends said that you were upset."

Relationships are built on communication, and I know that it was hard for Theodore to do so. So I won't make it harder for him and lay it all out. "I was upset, yes. But I also said that it was okay for you to spend time with your friends."

And after a second, I added. "And it's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything."

Theodore frowns, taking a seat on the bench besides me.

STEP TWO: make things clear

His chest feels heavy at my words. He doesn't like knowing that I think I wasn't his girlfriend. Because, if I really wasn't, was it normal for him to like me as much as he did?

He has to say something.

"But you are, aren't you?" He asks, brows furrowed.

His heart is leaning, waiting and waiting for an answer. His eyes flutters shut, and he doesn't know it. Wishing and wishing that I would say something.

"Theo." My voice comes out softer than I intended for it to be. "Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

His heart is speeding up. And he thinks that there should be a guide book on how to be in a relationship with pretty girls. But he guesses that he's being guided by one right now.

THE BASICS ON HOW TO DATE PRETTY GIRLS (FOR ROOKIES) by Theodore's and I friends.

His words get caught in his throat. Isn't it so incredibly obvious? He wants to say. Isn't it so incredibly obvious that I've bewitched him? He doesn't say it, but he does nod. And he hopes his nod conveys just how much he wants to be mine.

"Okay," I said first. "I'll be your girlfriend." But of course, things can't always be that easy. "If you ask me properly."

STEP THREE: take things slow

He blinks at me slowly. As if he's only just learning how to properly function; a shift in his eyes caught my attention though, knowing that he's finally processing my words.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows that I like him just as much as he likes me but he's nervous about it all. Forgive him for being new to this dating thing.

With as much care as he could muster in his tone, he asks. "Will you give me the honour in courting you?" And then, as if he was realising he's supposed to take things slow —even though his intention was, and will always be, courting me— he corrects himself. "Will you give me the honour of being my girlfriend?"

What a way with words he has. I'd like to think it has something to do with the romance books he'd been reading just so he could have something to talk to me about all these months.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?" I counter after a beat.

Theodore stayed quiet for the briefest second before: "yes."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You're my boyfriend."

"Oh." There's a second of silence where neither of us spoke before my face breaks out into a smile, one that he doesn't bother to hold himself back from reciprocating it. "Okay."

"Okay." I nod. "So what should we do first boyfriend?"

Theodore mulls everything over before he turns to me, his hair falling into his eyes. "What do you want to do girlfriend?"

I can't tell whether his hand reaches for mine, or mine his, but I knew that our hands found one another. "Go on a Date."

Theodore lifts our intertwined hand up, placing a careful kiss on my hand as he nods. "Let's go on a date."

STEP FOUR (UNOFFICIAL): kiss, go on dates, be happy!

note: if this guide works, please take the authors (Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron and Ginny weasley, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Draco Malfoy) out to dinner, all expenses paid by guide user (Theodore Nott).

— from bee: i lost the initial draft for this which was a lot longer and had to restart all over 😵‍💫😵‍💫 this wasn’t what i had planned for it to be like but it’s cute and im happy with it anyways!!

some other songs i used for inspo for this fic:

say something - twice

rookie - red velvet

+ bonus scene: The table goes silent as Theodore picks up the check, waiting with bated breath on how much it came out to be.

And despite knowing that all the Slytherins + Harry would be able to handle the bill without making a dent in their vault, they're still all anxious to know the price.

Theodore pulls out his card, sleek, black, and hands it over to the waiter. Once the waiter left, he turns to us. "I'll buy you dessert if you can guess it."

The group starts blurting out numbers, startling the other customers but they couldn't seem to care less. Beneath the table, with his finger tracing the skin of my thigh. Theodore writes the price, and inching a bit lower, he adds; "make me proud, sweetheart."

Safe to say the group wasn't all too happy to know that I was the only one who not only guessed right, but was right number by number. Draco would later on whine about this, something along the lines of: "Girlfriend privileges."

[romanarose]

Awake

Fem!Reader x Santiago Garcia, Francisco Morales, Ben Miller, Will Miller Santiago Garcia x Will Miller Ben Miller x Francisco Morales

All TF boys and reader mix except Miller Brothers

Awakening Series masterlist

YOU DO NOT NEED TO READ ANY OF THE OTHERS! There's a good story here about coming out, bisexuality, literally "awakening". This is the finally, where everyone is awake.

Written for my (day late lol) Oscar Pedro Pride Event, week 3, Sex/kissing!!!

Summary: You take Santi, Will, Frankie, and Ben all inside you at once. That's the fic.

Warnings and content: Literally everything. BJ's, triple penetration, double vaginal penetration, bukake, just like. im not listing everything happening but its a lot. everything bisexual. Then aftercare!

A/N its been NINE MONTHS!!! since i updated. I get it if no one cares anymore lololololol. Anyway THIS IS IT!!! the end!!!!!

*********************

It was amazing how, after all these months, the stretch of Will’s cock still got to you having to catch you breath.

Things were good, really fucking good these days. You, Will, and Santiago had a discussion about the relationship; firstly, between you and Santi where you both agreed that yes, you both wanted Will involved. You weren't sure how or if he really wanted to, but he meant too much to both of you to just keep pretending it was the same as when Ben or Frankie were inside you. Then, you talked to Will. He agreed that yes, he had feelings for both you and your husband. However, he was not at a place right now; he didn’t want to move too quickly. So you didn’t. Will came over sometimes and stayed the night, fucked you and Santi and got fucked in a tangled up mess on the bed… no labels, just taking it easy.

On the other side of things, Ben moved out of Will’s and in with Frankie a week after the camping trip. They were completely inseparable and 2 months later, engaged. 3 months after that, you were standing as a witness in a courthouse for their wedding and cooking multiple hot plates for a backyard potluck reception. Frankie was not one for being in the spotlight, and Ben was not one to dress up.

Now, you watch as your husband lay on the bed next to you, Frankie fucking his ass while his own husband eats him from behind. Your tits bounced with each thrust of Will’s hips, your arms wrapped around his back and stuck to it with sweat. You watch, Will’s breath against your neck, as Santi writhes in pleasure, hips bucking up to meet Ben’s mouth. Your hands were laced together.

Santi turns to you, smiling with his eyes glancing over your body. “You look…” He pants. “Really fucking good like this.”

You laugh a little. “So do you.”

You both grin at each other, unbelieving of your luck to find such a group. 4 men who you trusted with your life and your body to take care of you, and for you to take care in return. Will gently cupped your face, guiding your mouth to where his waited. His touch was a stark softness compared to the way his cock continued to pound into you. 

“You doing okay, princess?” He took your lower lip with his as he pulled away, drawing out the tender kiss. Beside you was the sound of Santiago getting absolutely fucking railed by Frankie. 

“I’m fucking fantastic.” You confirm, then nod to Santi with a cheeky smile. “I don’t know about him, though.”

Santi’s grip on your hand was like a vice, head propped back as he was practically screaming on his oldest friends dick.

Will chuckles. “He’s still not used to taking a dick.”

Careful as to not reject Will’s affections, you nudge him off you. You feel empty without him inside, but your husband calls. “Baby…” You caress his face after crawling next to him, knelt by his side. Your hand reaches out for Frankie, but he’s already slowing. “Baby are you okay?” You protected Santiago the way he always protected you.

Slow and bleary, Santiago opened his eyes, chuckling with disbelief. “I’ve never been better, baby girl.”

*

You and Ben lay up against your husband's arms, both your men feeding you water. Santi reminds Will to drink, and he does before wiping off you, Santi, and Frankie with a cool towel before passing it to Frankie for Ben. Will always watched out for Benny during group sex just as on the field, but was not about touch during these moments. As Will watched his brother smile in Frankie’s arms, however, he knew he was okay. Frankie took care of him.

Ben turned to you with his dopey grin. “How does it feel watching your husband regularly get his ass stretched?”

This makes you laugh, and you give him a kick. “Pretty fucking good, especially if I’m sitting on his face.”

*

Santi’s arms were wrapped lovingly around you, chest to chest, his dick deep up inside your swollen and tired pussy. He’d gone in easy, and you signed as Frankie bottomed out into your ass. Two down, two to go.

Frankie’s massive hands played with your hair, his mouth kissing your neck, moving up to nibble on your earlobe. “You feel me, baby? Feel me and Santi right up in you?” He gave a thrust inside, making Santi’s chest rumble in pleasure. “I can sure feel him, mmm, fuck, it’s just… I can feel that thick vein of his when I move.”

“I know just what you mean.” You say with a smile, egging him on. Santiago had the most perfect cock you’d ever seen in your life; long, thick, and veiny. Curved up just a little bit in a way that hit you juuuust right. “Gotta feel him inside you one of these times, Frankie” You right back and grab his thigh. “He fills you up in just the best way.”

The older man looks up to where Ben stood at the edge of your bed, hands soothing you and stimulating erogenous zones. He sometimes pauses to play with your hair, which you particularly love. When Ben sees Francisco looking at him, he goes for a kiss.

“I’d love to see that, Fish.” He likes his tongue over his lover’s face. “Watch Santi struggle to take you, watch him fucking whimper on your cock.”

Frankie was equally enthralled as Will situated himself in the back, getting ready to slide in right there with Santi in your cunt. Will’s hand splayed across Frankie’s ass, thumb sliding into his asshole as he moved his fellow soldier around right where he needed to be. In general, Francisco liked to take charge in the bedroom, but when it came to Will, everyone fell under his order. He was tall, large, companding but had the competence to back it. The last time you were all together, Santiago stayed on the sidelines for the most part to make sure you were safe and happy. Now, however, you’d all experienced so much, he trusted all the men to take care of you, take care of him, take care of each other. Now, Will slides into his natural element as the leader.

Squeezing an ample amount of lube on his hand, he covered not only his cock but added it to Frankie and Santi. You had no problems getting wet and they always took careful time to open you up, but he wasn’t taking chances with your precious body. His thumb was obviously nothing compared to Ben’s dick, but he wasn’t trying to split him up, just to add to the pleasure of being inside you. Santi languidly kissed at your lips as Will spoke to Frankie.

“I’ll fuck this tight little hole of yours while you’re inside Santi, hm? Thrust into you hard enough I drive you into him?”

Frankie moans at the thought, and Benny bends down to join in this kiss between you and Santi. You both excitedly welcome him in, tongues wrestling as he kisses between words. “And I can fuck our favorite lady while you guys are our personal porn.”

Santi sucked on your bottom lip. “Want me to be your pornstar, mi amor? You like watching me take it up the ass for you to get off to?” He punctuated his point with a harsh thrust up, spearing his cock inside. The moans from Frankie were nothing compared to the sounds you let out. He looked over your shoulder at Will. “She’s ready, fill her up.”

With his thumb continued to fuck Frankie, Will’s other hand was firmly placed on your ass. It wasn’t for guidance or smack or to massage… it was just there to ground you. You cry out against Santi’s neck you were sucking on, Will slowly and carefully inserting himself into you. There's so much of him to take, inch after inch it never seemed to end. Santi’s hands went to Will’s hips, stopping him. He wasn’t going to be able to bottom out just based on the sheer amount of people occupying a small space, but what he was able to fit in was almost too much. When Will stops, Santi holds your face. “You okay, bebita?” He asks you gently. “Is it too much?”

You take a deep, steadying breath and shake your head. It was a lot. Like a fucking a lot. “No, no I think I’m good.”

“Princess.” Will spoke above you. “We don’t wanna do nothing based on ‘I think.’ If you gotta stop or slow down, we want you to tell him.”

Considering his words, you believe him. You knew firmly that they would never want you uncomfortable outside of the stretch you begged for… And you probably could take them all fully… but you decided to call it. 

“Just…” You turn around to see his softly smiling face, Will’s beard still glistening with your wetness, Frankie’s chest sticking to your skin. “Don’t go any further, okay? The stretch is good, you don’t gotta take it easy or nothing just…”

Will bent around Frankie to kiss your lips, tender and sweet before Ben takes your mouth. “I got you, princess. I won’t push it.” And you knew he wouldn’t. Last but not last was Benny. You could understand why Frankie and him were always sneaking away to suck each other's dicks, Ben had a nice one indeed, one you enjoyed as he slid into your mouth. 

Santi in your pussy, holding you and Frankie both close. He fucked up into you, cock rubbing against Will’s where they were nestled in together. Will wrapped an arm around Frankie, playing with his nipples as Frankie humped his ass against Wills torso while fucking you in yours. His moans were swallowed by Ben, who kissed his husband while fucking you throat.

“Mi chica perfecta…” Santi whispers between wet kisses to your skin. “Letting me and my friends use all your holes, let off some steam… letting us break you in…”

You whimpering against Ben’s dick in affirmative. You loved degradation, you loved being objectified and they all knew it, because after it all was said and done, they touched you and cared for you in such a gentle way that assured you that they loved you in all their unique ways.

Soft stroke of a thumb over your ass steadied you as you listened to the kissing above you and Santi. Will’s gentle reassurance compared to hard pounding you were taking from behind. 

“Could’ve used something like her back in the service, couldn’t we boys? Something fuck after a long day, a pretty little toy.”

Frankie disengaged from Ben, a string of spit connecting them for a few moments longer. “Maybe we wouldn’t have waited 20 years to come out of the closet.”

“Speak for yourself.” Ben laughs, thrusting into your mouth. “I took full advantage of the frequent moving around and secretive bars.”

“Slut” Will laughs, shaking his head at his baby brother's antics.

Santi spoke from below you, never stopping humping his hips up. “You’re one to talk, IronHead.” This resulted in a smack to Will’s thigh. You felt full beyond belief feeling yourself approach orgasm as the men you loved use your holes and your body, bringing you and each other pleasure. Ben alternates between thrusting into your mouth, then pulling out and putting it to Frankie’s lips. Benny is quick with praise for you and Frankie, never making you feel like you were just an aid to their relationship despite the degrading teasing. Behind you, Will and Santi’s hands were all over each other and Frankie, Santi even reaching back at points to plays with Benny’s tightening balls. 

“You feel that, Will? Our princess is getting ready to come for us again.” Santi laughs mockingly, but you are. What on earth is going to feel like coming on 3 dicks? You can’t imagine having room to even clench right now, your body stiffening in pleasure and pain as everything became so dizzyingly good. You close your eyes, losing yourself in the joy, the closeness, the extreme trust that it takes to pull off something like that. The love that is found, romantic, friendship, brotherhood in multiple ways. Will managed to hike up Santi’s ass just enough to stuff his fingers inside, making both Santiago and Francisco moaning like moans on Will’s fingers, Ben guiding them to kiss. You join in, and so does Benny’s dick. You, Fankie and Santi slobber and kiss and suck in such a mess that half the time you don’t know whose skin you are kissing.

You pussy and ass begins to feel raw, the pleasure still whirling in your stomach but beginning to be distracted by the discomfort between your legs. You tap Santi, wet lips against his cheek as you’re barely aware of anything else. “Approaching yellow, baby” You warn, punctuating it with a kiss so he knew it wasn’t anything serious. Santi could sometimes get dom drop. It wasn’t often, but you liked to make sure he knew everything was okay.

Holding up a hand, Santi halted everyone’s movements. Will rested his head against Frankie’s lower back, panting. Ben dropped to his knees to take your hand in his. Frankie kissed your sweaty shoulder blades. 

But Santi is who you communicated to. You trusted them all, but Santi will always be your husband, your baby, tu amor. 

“You okay, bebita?” He asks with a gentle timber, his low voice rumbling against your chest.

“I’m okay, I just think after I come, I wanna get to the grand finale.” You say with a laugh and a kiss.

He kisses you right back, signaling everyone to get back to work. Ben, instead of fucking your mouth, stays on his knees to massage your neck and shoulders. “Come whenever you're ready, darl’n.” Ben’s absurdly deep voice tells you.

It takes less than a minute and you’re coming on 3 hard dicks stuffed inside your holes, Will letting out a guttural sound that told you it was taking everything in him not to come inside you. You shake under the force of your orgasm, finger nails digging into Santi’s soft, bare skin. Everything was so fucking perfect, your senses blocking out anything that wasn’t immense pleasure. You couldn’t hear a word of their praises, you couldn’t smell the musk of marathon sex, you couldn’t see the men who swarmed around you like bees to their queen. You were blinded by the light.

Santi kissed your skin, no longer moving. He knew how sensitive you could get after coming. 

“Everyone ready?” He asked, Frankie desperately humping your ass, chasing the high.

“Fuck, I’m so close…”

“Have Benny get you there, I think she’s sore.”

And you were. You were actually quite sore and you were glad you had someone who knew you as well as Santiago did to watch out for you. You were perfectly fine saying no, stop, not yet, later, etc. You trusted Frankie completely. But it was nice to have someone who knew you so completely that you didn’t even need to say it.

Frankie got up with no problem, kissing your lips and whispering a thank you. Ben spits in his hand, and while they make out like teenagers he brings Frankie to the brink. Ben grabbed the wipes, cleaning his husband off in case you end up blowing him. You knew you didn’t want any ass to mouth action. Santi and Will slowly get out of you, leaving you feeling empty without them. You look forward to whatever the future holds for the three of you, whatever parts Will was willing to give. Will’s massive arms pick you up, careful when he sets you on your knees on the carpet.

 Seeing 4 gorgeous, stacked, hung men standing in front of you… you were revived and needed a taste. You put Santi’s dick in your mouth first, fisting Ben and Frankie, then alternating to taste all four of them in your mouth. Delicious.

Then, then all swarm you, jerking their cocks rapidly until cum came flying out, splattering your face, your tits, your laved out tongue in white. They dump their hot spend on you, groaning and grunting and kissing each other and all you could hear was the sounds of their pleasure and the fap, fap, fap of their masturbation. 

When they were done, they wiped their tips in their hair.

*

Santi washed your hair in the shower, Will’s arms around you keeping you steady. The water was warm, not too hot, and he was very careful cleaning you and Will up. They both dried you with warm towels, as Frankie drew Ben in. You liked that Frankie washed Ben’s hair too, despite a 4 inch height difference. Will took you to bed while Santi made sure Frankie and Ben had enough towels and knew where shower items were. 

For a while, you just lay there in Will’s arms, listening to Frankie tell Ben to “stop messing with the water” and “it doesn’t need to be hotter, this ain’t a hot tub!” followed by Ben yelping how the water is too hot. You can feel Ben laugh. Santi gives you and Will water, instructing you both to drink as he settles into bed on the other side of Will. When Frankie and Ben return, Ben is carrying a butt naked Frankie, ass first, over the shoulder and into the room before flopping him down on the bed. 

“It’s my turn to take care of you, idiot.”

And he did. He dried Frankie off, gave him water, fed him some raisins which you though was odd but to each their own.

“Santiago, why don’t you ever feed me raisins?” You teased him.

“Because I love you, they are sickos.”

Will kissed your forehead. “I’ll feed you raisens, princess.”

“I don’t even like raisins.”

Will groaned. 

But they all slept there that night, in your marital bed, tangled up and limbs on limbs, arms slung across wastes and lips to skin.

It was nice like this.

******************

Well, after a year and a half i finally finished this bitch!!!! one less series to worry about!!!!

Pease let me know what you think, I sure hope this was worth it! Begining was hard to write, but once i got in the zone it's all over!!!!

I hope y'all enjoyed it! I sure enjoyed writing it!!!!

@bit-dodgy-innit @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cocodiem @imwaytooobsessedwithpedro @twistedboxy @juneknight @angelbabyyy99 @marshmallow--3 @ahookedheroespureheart @kandik @moonknightly @storyarcscribe @itspdameronthings @lou-la-lou @axshadows @saintbedelia @your-voice-is-mellifluousuous @nana90azevedo @luciferiorbxtch @djarinluvr @aretha170 @mystinky-butt @uglie-hoe @sirenphrynne @sammierae-16 @thismessthatsm @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @gogh-with-the-flow @paintlavillered @tiny-raccon @luciferiorbxtch @feltonswifesworld87 @whitearmsredhands @pimosworld @mrscadilllac @i-wanna-be-your-muse @violentdelightsandviolentends @lunar-ghoulie @meveispunk @missdictatorme @itspdameronthings @lonelyisamyw-0love @poeedameronn @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @luke-o-lophus @the-soulofdevil-reads @thepowerthismanhasoverme @miraclesabound @simps-central @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ssuperficialspacecadett @munson-hargrove-barnes86 @broken-arrow-ambassador @thedreadandthefugitivemind

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[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 13: You’re Not What I Would Call Nurturing

Anna gives birth and caring for a newborn is even harder than you expected. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 12, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild near smut, non-graphic depiction of childbirth, childcare struggles. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 8.7k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

April, 2018 

Gale had been holed up in his home office since you got home and your excitement was starting to exhaust your patience. 

He liked to have his space when he was writing. Then, so did you, and he respected it. Well, usually respected it. You did your best to do the same. But it had been hours now. You’d resigned yourself to having dinner alone, setting aside a plate for him, and waited for Gale to emerge so you could talk to him. It hadn’t happened, not even to use the bathroom or get a glass of water.

You set your book on your legs, rapping your fingers along the cover of it and worrying at your lip. You really didn’t want to sit here, holding everything in, any longer. 

You put in your bookmark and set the novel you’d barely been able to pay attention to aside, going to the kitchen for a bottle of sparkling water and a protein bar to bring your husband. 

“Hey you,” you smiled, peeking into his office after knocking once on the door. He glanced up from his desk, brows raised, head bent so low you could see where his hair was thinning.You came all the way into his office, walls lined with bookshelves and surfaces stacked high with paper. You held up the water and protein bar like an offering. “I haven’t heard you come out in a while and it’s getting late. Thought you should eat at least something tonight.” 

“Thanks,” he said, looking back down at the pages in front of him. You took it as permission to come closer, so you did, setting the food down next to his computer before perching on the edge of his desk. You crossed your ankles in front of you and held onto the desktop, rapping the underside of it with your fingernails in a sharp rhythm. 

Gale sighed, setting the page he was reading down and crossing his arms on his desktop, leaning on it before giving you a small smile as he looked up at you. 

“Something on your mind, baby doll?” He asked, brows raised, looking like he was trying his best to restrain his amusement. 

“Maybe,” you teased a little, not able to stop the smile on your face. “Remember how I had that doctor’s appointment earlier today?” 

“Think so,” he frowned. “Why? Did everything go well?” 

“It went great,” you smiled. “I actually… well, instead of it just being a check up, I asked her to check for a few things…” 

Gale frowned further before he took the bait. 

“Check for what?” He asked. 

“Check and see if I’m in a good place to have a baby,” you tried to keep from acting too excited about it but you were. You were practically giddy. “She said everything looked good. Great, in fact. And… well, I was thinking… you have that sabbatical coming up in, what, two years? Wouldn’t it be great if we could spend it together? I can take some time off, my book should be well and launched by then, you can work on your next book and we can spend a lot of time just you, me and… and a baby.” 

He watched you for a moment, an almost amused look on his face before he laughed a little. 

“Are you being serious?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” your smile faltered a bit. “Yeah, I figured that… you know, we’re not getting any younger, we’re at a good spot career wise, my body is apparently in prime baby making territory…” 

“Sure, the timing is great if we were going to do it but,” he laughed once and shook his head, turning his face to his lap for a moment before looking back to you, a serious expression on his face. He took your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but… Do you really think having children is a good idea for you?” 

You couldn’t stop your smile from falling this time, eyes searching his. 

“What?” You asked quietly. 

“Honey, just…” He sat back a little and sighed. “Look. You’re… I love you. That’s why I married you and you’re an extraordinary woman in so many ways. You make me the best possible version of myself and I’m grateful for that every day but… You’re not what I would call nurturing.” 

You frowned. 

“But…” 

“It’s not a bad thing, necessarily,” he said, as though you hadn’t spoken at all. “You’re just far more concerned with what’s in your head or on the page than about something like children. Do you really think you’d do a good job with a child? Be honest with yourself. Do you think you’d be able to make the sacrifices necessary and put them first? Or would you fail and make them pay the price? And then there’s everything with your mental health - we both know how you can get sometimes and you clearly got it from your mother - I doubt you want to pass that on to a child or burden one with it when you’re having a rough patch…” 

“But,” you said again, feeling the pinch of tears in your eyes. “I thought… don’t you want kids?” 

“Of course I do,” he shrugged. “But I decided I wanted you more. I went into this marriage with eyes wide open, I knew I wouldn’t be having children with you and I decided that you were worth the sacrifice.” 

You tried to keep from crying but felt a tear slip down your cheek, anyway, as you stared down toward your feet. 

“Hey,” he said, getting up and putting his hand to your nape, pulling your head up to look him in the eye. “It’s alright. I don’t hold it against you. I made my peace with it a long time ago. And it’s better if we just don’t have them instead of ruining them, right?” 

“Right,” you sniffed and he kissed you on the forehead before stepping back from you. 

“I’m going to try to finish this chapter research before bed,” he said. “I’m getting close but it’ll still be a bit, I’ll see you upstairs. Thank you for bringing me something to eat, I lost track of time.” 

“Sure,” you said, going to the door like you were on autopilot. You paused, your fingers on the knob before looking back at him. “I love you.” 

He was silent, looking over his papers, lost in his work again. 

“Gale?” 

“Hm?” He looked up, brows raised. 

“I love you.” 

“Oh,” he said absently, looking back down at the page. “I love you, too.” 

You looked at your husband for another second, trying to accept that he would not, in fact, be the father of your children before you left him to his writing and went to bed alone. 

April, 2023

You buried your face in his shoulder, straining to keep your nails from digging into his back, the cotton of his shirt bunching between your fingers as your hips canted up to grind against him. He licked and sucked at your neck, arms wrapped around your back, pressing your front tightly to his and he moaned as he worked his hard cock still trapped in his jeans down against your mound. 

“Fuck,” he panted, his mouth working his way over your neck to your jaw, wet on your tender skin and you tried to let yourself get in lost in him. 

It was hard, though. For one, you knew you should hold back. It wasn’t the right time to start sleeping with someone, life was too complicated without adding that into a relationship. For another, you hadn’t had sex since Gale and the thought of taking your clothes off in front of someone new made your heart race - and not in a good way. And, finally, there was something not quite right about him. 

Maybe it was his cologne, maybe it was the timbre of his voice, maybe it was the fact that he just didn’t feel right in your arms or between your legs but you just couldn’t make yourself want Stephen. 

At least, not in the way you wanted Joel. 

Not that you were proud of that. The opposite, in fact. You tried your damndest to bury that feeling deep and low inside yourself after the incident in Dallas. You didn’t WANT to want Joel. It hurt to want Joel. It always had and that didn’t change after that morning. 

You were still half entwined with Joel and trying not to panic when Sarah started knocking on the bedroom door, saying she was hungry and that she wanted to go somewhere that would have chocolate milk for breakfast and also could she try a coffee if you went to Starbucks since she was now basically a teenager and was tired after being out so late the night before at the concert. 

The two of you scrambled away from each other, your panties sticky and wet and you could feel the heat rising in your face. How could you have done this? Dry humped yourself to orgasm on your best friend? 

“It’s OK,” Joel said again, eyes wide and voice quiet. “Let’s just… we get back home and…” 

“Hey guys?” Sarah called through the door for the second time in as many minutes. “Is my Ears Tour shirt in there? I want to wear it.” 

“I got it baby girl,” Joel said, grabbing the bag and going for the door and then it was the three of you again. You weren’t alone with Joel until you stopped for gas in West, Sarah running inside to use the bathroom and start picking out kolache from the bakery case while Joel filled up the truck. 

His eyes darted over to you, like you were something volatile and unknown, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. 

“Look,” he said eventually, decidedly not looking at you. “What… what happened… Goldie, I… You should know…” 

“It’s fine,” you cut him off quickly. You didn’t think you could bear hearing him say what a mistake you were for the umpteenth time in your life. “Like you said, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Right?” 

He looked at you then - actually looked at you, his brown eyes warm and deep and soft - something almost sad on his face that passed so quickly you weren’t sure it happened at all. 

“Right,” he said after a moment. “You’re right.” 

“I’d rather this didn’t…” you tried to find the words. “I really don’t want this to blow things up with you this time. I don’t want to go no contact or… whatever it is that happens with us when… when we…” 

“It’s alright,” he cut you off, turning to watch the numbers tick up on the gas pump. “We just… pretend it never happened.” 

“Right,” you said. 

“Right,” he said back and you headed inside to find Sarah. 

When you made it back to Austin, you hugged Sarah goodbye, picked up Puck and gathered your stuff from the back of the truck, Joel carrying your bag to your car for you. 

“I know we said pretend it never happened,” he said after he’d put your duffle in the back seat. “But… I think it might be good if we had some space.” 

“Space?” You asked, your heart sinking. 

“Just… just a few days,” he said. “I think… I think I need it. Just a few days, though.” 

“A few days,” you said, hesitant. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I just… I gotta get my shit right.” 

You didn’t really know what to say to that so you just nodded. Joel looked relieved. 

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. “I… I really don’t want to lose you again, Goldie.” 

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” you said. 

“Good,” he said, turning and going toward his house before turning to face you, walking backwards as he did. “See you soon.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Sure, Joel.” 

“Like… Like two days,” he said. 

You laughed. 

“OK.” 

“Three, tops.” 

“Three tops,” you repeated. 

You went home and tried to distract yourself. You unpacked right away, put a grocery order in on Instacart and sat on the floor, shining a laser pointer on your legs and watching Puck try to pounce on it. Joel needed space. What the fuck did that mean? Why would he need space if it didn’t matter? 

It did matter to you. That’s why space was probably a good idea for you. You didn’t want it but it was a good idea. You clearly couldn’t be trusted within a few feet of Joel without losing your fucking mind so space was smart. But why did Joel need it? 

He wasn’t into you, at least not in the way you were into him. He’d made that plenty clear over the years. Every time something had happened, it was a mistake. You were a mistake. But… it kept happening. Did he want to fuck you against his better judgement? He’d always been a physical guy, with you and anyone else he cared about. He’d jumped from girl to girl in high school and, judging from the fact that Sarah existed but her mom was long gone, you figured he’d done the same after you’d gone away until responsibility came knocking. 

Maybe everything between the two of you had just been a carry over from that. You knew he loved you as a friend and you were happy with that, you really were. Maybe it was just his affection for you and the fact that he wasn’t getting laid anywhere else that made him keep doing things he regretted with you and you were so, so tired of being something he regretted. 

“Hey,” you said, scooping your cat up so his head was level with yours, a look of indignity on his small orange face. “Why am I like this? Why do I keep doing this to myself?” 

He just pressed one pink-padded paw to your nose and you sighed. 

“Well if you don’t have an answer…” you trailed off before kissing his little cat head and setting him back down. 

You gave Joel the space he wanted. You didn’t call, you didn’t text, you didn’t even send him the stupid video you saw on TikTok that made you think of him. 

In the mean time, you tried to write your book even though seemed to delete everything not long after it was down on the page. You saw Stephen. You tried not to text Gale. And, when Joel did text a few days later - just a picture of the Whataburger menu with a question mark - it made you feel better than you had in days. 

Things went back to business as usual after that. You never talked about what happened in the hotel room with Joel. You certainly didn’t mention it to Stephen. You just tried your best to ignore the fact that the best orgasm you’d had in years happened as you fucked yourself against your best friend’s dick when you were half asleep. 

But as much as you tried to pretend like that hadn’t happened, your body knew that it had. Joel had smelled so good and felt so good and Stephen just didn’t compare. No matter how much you wanted him to. 

“We should stop,” you panted, voice drawn tight, hands moving to brace against Stephen’s chest. He groaned and went limp on top of you and you laughed. 

“You’re killin’ me woman,” he said, sitting up from you enough to kiss you softly on the lips before moving to the other end of the couch and awkwardly adjusting his jeans. 

“I know,” you winced as you sat up, too, pulling your knees into your chest. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m basically moving in with my sister tomorrow and I’ll be there for who knows how long while she gets settled with the baby and it’s just… it’s not the right time and…” 

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out and giving your foot a squeeze. “You don’t have to explain it. You said you needed to go slow, I’m OK with that. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel ready for.” 

You smiled a little, willing your heart to at least try and flutter at this kind, smart, handsome man who was saying and doing all the right things. 

“Thank you,” you said. “That really does mean a lot.” 

“Hope things go well for your sister,” he said. “And not just because, selfishly, I know I get you back sooner if it does.” 

“Good to know you care about the welfare of infants outside your personal gain,” you said wryly, smirking a little. 

He laughed. 

“I know, it’s what makes me such a good guy,” he said. “When’s Anna due again?” 

“Two weeks from tomorrow,” you sighed. 

“Isn’t you basically moving in tomorrow then a bit early?” He frowned. 

“Well, she might come early,” you said. “It sounds like she’s going to be a big baby. Trust me, I’m not exactly eager to go stay with my sister but…” 

“You might like it more than you think,” he said. You looked at him, skeptical. He laughed. “Family’s weird that way.” 

“One can hope,” you said. 

You walked him out, kissing him goodbye at the door and wishing you felt something more as you did. Before you went to bed, you looked through your bags to make sure you had everything you needed and, eventually, settled in with your phone in hand, Puck curling up next to you. He nuzzled into the crook of your elbow, tucking his tail into his body before taking a  deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“What do you have to sigh about?” You asked. He adjusted, spreading his little toes out before settling again. “A likely story.” 

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone when you got a text from Joel with a photo attached. You opened it. He was in bed, too, with the TV on, the first Curtis and Viper on the screen. 

The TV edit is bullshit. 

You laughed a little. 

You can just put on the copy you own, you know. 

Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? And then I’d have to get up… much rather watch Curtis say “get plucked” 50 times than do that. 

You snorted.

Lazy ass. 

Lazy ass? I’m getting old, respect your elders. 

“Jesus,” you said to yourself, shaking your head. 

You hesitated for a second, debating about what to say next. Eventually, you just bit the bullet. 

I miss you. 

There was a pause before he texted back, long enough that you wondered if you should try to take it back, maybe make a joke of it. And then, he responded. 

I miss you too, Goldie. 

You were trying to figure out how to respond when he called you. 

“It’s pushing midnight,” you said by way of greeting. 

“Way past my old man bedtime,” he agreed. “Channel 62.” 

You sighed but turned on the TV all the same, finding the station just in time to hear Curtis say “get plucked” to some henchman before gunning him down. 

“Oh that’s bad,” you laughed. 

“Told you.”

You watched the movie with Joel that way for a while, laughing and joking and providing commentary on the stupider parts until the love scene came on. You fidgeted in your bed, the campy sequence somehow still arousing because you knew Joel was listening. 

“You’re going to tell me when she has the baby, right?” He said as the couple on screen undressed each other. 

“I can tell you,” you smiled a little. “Assuming Anna doesn’t change her mind about that.” 

“Good,” Joel said. “Haven’t held a baby in a while, I miss it.” 

“Awww big bad Joel Miller secretly loves babies,” you teased, trying not to picture Joel holding a tiny Sarah because you thought your heart might explode if you did. “Who knew?” 

“Hey, babies are cute as hell,” he said, mockingly defensive. “And they smell good. And they make these adorable little noises. Am I supposed to not love babies? What am I, a monster?” 

“I will let you abuse your connection to me to snuggle my niece,” you smiled a little.

“Yeah, you better,” you could hear him smiling, too. 

You switched off your lamp but let the TV on and laid down, Puck looking at you indignantly before adjusting so he was curled against your chest. 

“You know if Anna or, you know if… if you need help with her,” Joel said, almost hesitantly. “You can always call me. It took a while to know what to do but I like to think I got pretty good at the single parent thing.” 

You smiled a little, feeling overly tired. 

“You’re very good at it.”

“Got the world’s greatest dad mug and everything to prove it,” he said. “I know it seems like a lot right now, Goldie, but it will be OK. Promise it will.” 

Your eyes got heavy during the climax of the movie, laughing sleepily with Joel and nodding off before the credits. It was a few hours later when an unnaturally loud commercial jerked you awake, your phone still sitting next to your head on the pillow. 

You groaned and sat up, turning off the TV. Puck had moved, probably bounding through the house somewhere at some imagined prey, and you got up to use the bathroom, bringing your phone with you. Out of curiosity, you checked the time the call with Joel had ended but frowned. Judging from the length, it seemed like it went on for a while after you’d fallen asleep. You went to text him but, instead, found a series of texts from Anna. 

Hey, are you still up? 

Guess not… FYI, feeling weird. 

There was a break and then another text had come through just half an hour earlier. 

OK these are either those fake contraction things or I’m in labor

“Oh fuck,” you said to yourself, quickly going to wash your hands before calling her but she beat you to it, your phone springing to life on your vanity, the vibration making it jump across the marble. You wiped your hand quickly on your pajamas and answered. 

“Not the fake contractions!” Anna said quickly instead of a hello. “Sorry, I know 4 a.m. isn’t a great time but…” 

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you said, walking quickly to your bedroom and taking off your pajama pants as best as you could with one hand. “How far apart are they?” 

“Eight minutes?” She said more like a question. “I think? But they’re strong enough that I can’t talk or walk during…” 

“OK we have a little time,” you said, breathing a little easier as you grabbed a clean pair of underwear and leggings from your drawer. “I’m just throwing my clothes on, my bags are already packed, I’ll be there so soon. Just… unlock your front door and lie down on the couch and I’ll be right there.” 

“I can do that,” she said, sounding a little panicked. “Thank you. For everything, I couldn’t do this on my own, I know I couldn’t and just… thank you.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Of course,” you said. “OK, I’m going to let you go but I’ll see you soon. You’ve got this, Anna. You do.” 

You got dressed as quickly as you could before checking that Puck’s food and water bowl would be at least set for the day and jogging to your car, bags in hand. 

Anna had done as you’d asked, unlocking her door so you didn’t need to fumble with keys in the dark and you found her in the middle of a contraction on her couch when you came in, grimacing and moaning in pain with her hands around the bottom of her stomach as she did. 

“Hey, you’re OK,” you said, running to the couch and kneeling at her side. “Want my hand?” 

She nodded frantically and you held it out. She squeezed it so tight you thought your knuckles might crack. As the contraction lessened, she took a deep breath, her face already shiny with sweat. “Think we can get you sat up and moved to the car?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “But watch out, my water broke when I was unlocking the door, it’s wet over there.” 

You almost laughed at that. 

“That’s alright,” you said, helping her sit up. “It’s tile, think it will live. We’ll get you to the car and I’ll mop when we’re home with you and baby girl. You ever going to tell me her name?” 

“I want to meet her first,” she said. “Think it’s weird for someone else to know her name before she does.” 

“Makes sense,” you nodded, looping her arm around your shoulders and notching yourself into her underarm. “Ready?” 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

“Then let’s go have a baby.” 

Her contractions were seven minutes apart when you reached the hospital and they got her back to a labor and delivery room quickly, hooking her up to what seemed like countless machines as you sat there and watched, feeling more helpless than you had since you watched your marriage fall to pieces at your feet. 

You realized, as Anna labored and nurses walked her through it, just how much you’d grown accustomed to being able to take things on for her. When she had an issue with her phone bill couldn’t figure it out? You called and handled it. When she wanted an NA meeting closer to her office? You tracked one down. When she was shopping for everything for the nursery? You looked up the safety ratings and handed over your credit card at Buy Buy Baby. It had always been that way. When her grades tanked, you tutored her. When she had a bully at school, you stepped in. When she wanted a snack while your mom was at work, you made it. If you could do it for Anna, you did. This was different. This, you couldn’t do for her. 

But you did everything you could. You did everything they taught you in lamaze classes and gave her ice chips and got the nurse when she needed help you couldn’t provide. Still, you felt decidedly useless when, more than 12 hours after you got to the hospital, her daughter came into the world with sharp, angry little cries. She was slick and red and wailing, tufts of dark hair on her tiny head, her small limbs flung out from her little body and she was beautiful.

“Congratulations, Mama,” the doctor smiled, putting the baby on Anna’s chest. “It’s a girl.” 

Anna sobbed and smiled as she held her daughter, cradling her close. 

“Hi there little one,” she whispered down to her. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

The baby cried even louder, the sound sharp and cracking, and Anna laughed wetly. 

“Yeah,” she said. “You tell ‘em, Ellie.” 

“Ellie?” You asked, trying to keep from fully crying but failing miserably. 

“Yeah,” she said, still looking down at the tiny figure in her arms. “Ellie.” 

The three of you got to know each other, Ellie rarely resting anywhere but in either of your arms. A few friends of Anna’s came by to meet her and Joel and Sarah did, too, Joel texting to ask what Anna was craving after spending the day in labor. 

“Fried chicken!” She said. “With everything. And Dr. Pepper. Maybe a milkshake? Oh, and a burger if it’s not too much trouble.” 

The two of them came with bags of food so comically large you couldn’t help but laugh as they brought them in, Sarah trailing balloons along behind her. 

“Someone saw these in the gift shop so we had to stop for them,” Joel said, nodding to the balloons as he set down the heaping piles of food. “Here, baby girl, gimme those…” 

He tied them off on the rail of Anna’s bed while Sarah fawned over the sleeping newborn. 

“She’s so small,” she gaped down at her. “That’s insane.” 

Joel came and stood behind her, putting a large hand on her shoulder. 

“You were that size once, baby girl,” he said, sounding a little choked up. “You were a tiny thing, seemed like you fit in the palm of my hand.” 

“That’s just because you have freakishly large hands,” you said. 

“Shut it,” he gave you a look and you smiled. 

While you and Anna ate, Joel showed carefully showed Sarah how to hold a baby, how to support her tiny head and how babies liked when you moved with them. 

“See?” He said, sitting next to you on the little couch beneath the window as Sarah delicately cradled little Ellie. “You got it.” 

“That’s just because she’s perfect,” she said, staring down at the baby before her eyes went wide with excitement and she looked between her dad and Ellie’s mom. “Can I babysit? I promise, I’ll take such good care of her and…” 

“We can talk about that when both of you are a little older,” Joel laughed. “Glad to know you’re ready to start contributing to the household though. Have to start charging you rent…” 

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes before looking back to the baby. 

Joel held her next and you couldn’t help but stare at him as he did. He seemed so impossibly large compared to her, able to hold the tiny bundle that was your niece easily in his large hands, a look of awe and total adoration on his face as he did. But he was so beautiful, too. The gentle way he held her, the way he looked at her, the way he just seemed to be so happy to be caring for something so vulnerable, it made your heart ache with a want you’d long ago tried to set aside.

“He’s such a sucker for babies,” Sarah said, perching on the couch next to you and helping herself to a french fry. “He’s so weird.” 

“Must be because you were a perfect kid from birth,” you teased and Sarah smiled, smug, as Joel scoffed. 

“Please, if anything it’s in spite of her,” he said, still staring down at Ellie. “She had colic, seemed to love to pee right as I was changin’ her…” 

“Hey!” Sarah said. 

“But you were still the most amazing thing I’d ever seen,” he said, looking at his daughter before looking back to Ellie. “This one might be a close second, though. Good job, Mama.” 

“Thank you,” Anna said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “Actually, would you mind giving her to me? I’m going to try and nurse…” 

“Alright, I’ll hand her over and I won’t make you fight me for her but only because you just gave birth,” he said. “Next time though…” 

Anna laughed good naturedly as Joel gently laid the baby in her arms. 

“Alright, kiddo,” he said. “Let’s get out of their hair, give them some time to relax.” 

He and Sarah gathered up the trash from dinner and you walked them to the elevator, Sarah pressing her face against the nursery window to look at the babies as you went. 

“And how are you doing?” He asked as he waited for the elevator. 

“Me?” You asked, brows raised. “I’m fine, I didn’t just push a human being out of my body.” 

Joel laughed a little.

“I know but still. It’s a lot. You OK?” 

You thought for a moment about how powerless you’d felt as Anna brought Ellie into the world, how you wished your mother had been here because she was better equipped than you’d ever be, how you didn’t know how to help raise her without finding some way to ruin her. 

“I’m alright,” you said instead of saying any of that. “I’ll get them home and settled and then we’ll just… see how it goes, I guess?” 

“That’s all you can do,” he said, watching you with an almost soft look in his eyes. “Meant what I said before. Don’t matter what time it is, don’t matter what you need, we’ll figure it out. Did it before, I can do it again. And so can you.” 

“Thank you,” you said, letting yourself almost fall into him. He hesitated for a moment but wrapped himself around you, his arms almost swallowing you. 

“You’ve got this, Goldie girl,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Know you do.” 

He had to practically drag Sarah away from looking at all the babies and as you watched the elevator doors close, you wondered what you’d ever done without him. 

Anna and Ellie were released the next day and you drove them to Anna’s house at a snail’s pace, trying to press the break as gently as possible when approaching a light so you wouldn’t jostle the precious cargo in the back seat. 

At first, things went well. Or as well as it could when there were two people with basically no experience with children trying to care for an infant. Ellie didn’t need much, after all. She mostly slept, ate and pooped. 

And cried. She definitely, definitely cried. 

By day three, you were starting to get worried about the lack of sleep for both you and for Anna. You knew how exhausted you felt, how delayed your movements seemed as you tried to go through your routine on just two or three hours of sleep for the third day in a row. Anna, you knew, had to have it worse. She’d just given birth, after all, and was still recovering. On top of that, she was nursing Ellie. 

Or she was trying to, at least. 

After you’d left the hospital, Ellie had been reluctant to latch. She’d been doing an OK job of it before but now she seemed to do nothing but reject her mother’s breast or pull away quickly while wailing, her small face scrunching and getting red as she screamed. 

“I know, I know, I know,” Anna said in the afternoon on the fourth day, bouncing Ellie on her shoulder and sounding on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I’m trying! I know you’re hungry, I know!” 

“Maybe we can do formula?” You said, anxiously picking at a ragged cuticle as you watched your sister pace. “It’s better if she eats at all…” 

“I should be able to fucking do this!” Anna snapped. “I’m her goddamn mother, I should be able to feed her!” 

“You can,” you said, trying to soothe her. “Just… do the formula, I’ll make up a bottle, at least until we can get in to see the lactation specialist. That’s what it’s for. It’s OK, then you’re feeding her…”

“No, you’re feeding her,” she spat. “You bought the formula! You bought the formula and her crib and her goddamn onesie! Because I fucking failed at that, too!” 

“You didn’t fail at anything!” You said. Anna had stopped bouncing Ellie and her cries got louder. “I know it’s hard right now but it’s going to get better, it is.” 

“I need a break,” she stalked over to you, passing the baby off and all but storming out of the room. You bounced Ellie, who kept wailing, and you resisted the urge to cry yourself before going to make her a bottle. 

It was that afternoon, one of the few hours a day that Ellie wasn’t crying and was instead sleeping - but not content to do it anywhere but on your chest - that you checked your phone. You had some general messages from Joel, check ins and funny pictures and offers to bring by dinner, and an update from Alyssa with information about the classes she was covering for you. There was also a text from Gale, one that sounded almost ominous. 

I think I’ll always regret how things played out with you. 

You frowned and considered texting back. You’d sent him basically nothing in months, only responding when he had a question about something related to the divorce - even though you knew that should really be going through your attorneys, but it was so hard to resist talking to him when you had the excuse. This text, however, seemed different. 

You opened Facebook, hoping to go to his page and find some kind of hint but you didn’t even need to go that far. Sitting at the top of your newsfeed was a picture he’d been tagged in just a few hours ago, his arm around your younger, prettier replacement except, in this picture, her stomach was round, a blue dress tight over the swell near her hips as he looked at her, a tranquil smile on his face. 

“Our soon to be party of three!” She had written on the post. “Baby boy Newton, coming this July!” 

You just stared at your phone, heart racing as your stomach felt hollowed out. Gale was having a baby. Something you’d always wanted but he said was a bad idea, had really only been a bad idea because it was with you. You’d always secretly hoped that it was just an excuse, that he didn’t really want children but that wasn’t it. It was you. You were the problem. 

Ellie stirred from her place against your chest, starting to squirm and you could feel her start getting herself worked up. 

“It’s OK baby girl,” you said, your voice thick and wet. “Let’s see how you’re doing, see if you need a diaper and if we can let your mom sleep a little while longer, OK?” 

As you tried to calm her down, you couldn’t help but remember what Gale had told you. How you weren’t nurturing, how you couldn’t be selfless enough, how you’d ruin a child. How could you pretend like he was wrong? As you clutched tight to your screaming, squirming niece and tried to get her to settle or eat, how could you say that you would do anything but fail her? 

“Are you OK?” Anna asked a little while later when she emerged, groggy, from her room to find you with red eyes and a tear-streaked face and her daughter in your arms. 

“Fine,” you said, bouncing Ellie. “I’m fine.” 

You couldn’t tell her what Gale had said - Gale had known - about you. Not right now, not when Anna was already stressed and worried enough. You’d just have to deal with it and with the crying baby who was in your care.

And Ellie basically never stopped crying. You’d get a few hours of blessed quiet in a day but it seemed like, if she was conscious, she was screaming. You were coming up on the end of the first two weeks of her life with little understanding as to why she wasn’t able to settle and you needed to get back to work for a few days to finish out the semester. 

“You’re seriously going to leave me here with her?” Anna asked, her eyes wide. 

“Just for a week,” you said. “I have to do exam review, final project presentations and office hours before exam week. I have to, Anna, I’m sorry. I can see if I can find a nanny for a few days…” 

“No,” she shook her head. “Don’t. I can do this. I need to be able to do this.” 

“If you start feeling overwhelmed,” you frowned but she cut you off. 

“She’s my daughter,” she said. “I can take care of my own damn daughter.” 

Anna insisted you go home for the work week, wanting to try things on her own since you were going to be gone all day, anyway. You brought your bags so you could do laundry and pack a fresh round of clothes and you found yourself reveling in the silence of your home when you walked into it, closing your eyes and soaking it in. 

Joel had picked up Puck while you were at Anna’s and he said he was down to keep him for a while but, after a few hours, it was strange, rattling around your house without another soul in it. No crying baby, no frustrated sister, no playful cat. Just you and your exhaustion as you collapsed into bed. 

You checked in on Anna in the afternoons after work and, on Wednesday, went to Joel’s for dinner, Sarah begging you to sneak her more Sprite when Joel got up to use the bathroom halfway through. 

“Don’t tell your dad,” you said, filling up her cup from the two liter in the fridge. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” she smiled before chugging the first half of the soda before Joel made it back to the table. 

You sat on the couch with Joel after dinner, Puck purring furiously on your lap after giving you the silent treatment for the first hour you were there. 

“If my kid can’t sleep tonight, that’s on you,” he said as he settled in. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because you’re the one who let her have more sugar,” he said as Swiftie jumped on his lap and he started absently petting her. You gaped at him. “Don’t look so shocked. I’ve learned to watch the levels in the Coke bottles around this house with that kid.” 

“She could be doing actual coke, you know,” you said. 

“At 11?” 

You nodded. 

“You’ve got it easy,” you said. 

He laughed. 

“Suppose I do,” he said. “How’s it going with Ellie?” 

“She’s still crying like crazy,” you sighed. “It’s constant…”

“I told you I can come help!” He said, incredulous. 

“I know!” You replied. “But Anna doesn’t WANT help, she’s insisting she can do it. I’m worried about her, I don’t know how clearly she’s thinking right now…” 

“Given how sleep deprived she is?” Joel raised his brows. “Probably not very.” 

“I’m this close to just having you come over anyway, whether she likes it or not,” you said. “I don’t want her completely losing herself to this.” 

“Bring the kid here for a bit and give her a break,” Joel said. “I can watch ‘er, or I can come there…” 

“I appreciate it,” you sighed. “I’ll bring that up to her tomorrow. We have Ellie’s next check up in the afternoon, we’ll see how she’s doing. Maybe the doctor will have a good suggestion, who knows.” 

“Hope so,” Joel said. “It’ll be OK. Promise you, it will.” 

You almost told Joel about Gale then. About him having a baby with another woman because one of the only people who had ever been able to see you - really, truly see you - saw how bad you would be at this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

Despite Joel’s promise, it didn’t feel like it was going to be OK. Especially not at Ellie’s check up the next afternoon. She had lost a few ounces, moving down the track for weight percentile, and Anna looked like she was about to cry. 

“She won’t nurse,” she said, her voice thick. “She doesn’t like the formula, what do I do?” 

The doctor gave her some advice that you wrote down, a glassy look on Anna’s face, and drove home, worried that the doctor needed to see Ellie back in less than a week. 

“I’m going to ruin my kid,” Anna said when you got her home, Ellie blessedly asleep in her carseat, the only time you could reliably get her to pass out in the back of the car. “I can’t even feed her right, I’m going to destroy her when all I want to do is do the right thing for her.” 

“It’ll be OK,” you said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I can stay over tonight…” 

“No,” she shook her head. “May as well finish the week out, right?” 

“Sure,” you said uncertainly, “If you change your mind, just call me. I’ll be over in like 10 minutes, just call.” 

“Right,” she said, giving you a tight smile before walking you out. “I’m sure it will all work out.” 

You felt off all evening as you reviewed the final, frantic emails from students as the semester wound down. You should never have come home like this, you should have just gone to work and gone to Anna’s after whether she liked it or not. You seriously considered packing up and heading over that second but just chewed on the inside of your cheek instead. It was late. You’d be back the next night. Less than 24 hours. Closer to 18 hours, actually. What could really go wrong in 18 hours? 

You went back to work but only lasted another few minutes when Anna texted you. 

Are you at home? 

You frowned at the phone. 

Yeah, what’s up? Need me to come over? 

She didn’t respond. You drummed your pen against the edge of your desk and tried to hold yourself back from replying. She had an infant at home, after all. She wasn’t staring at her phone. 

But after five minutes, you texted again. 

Is everything OK? Is Ellie OK? Are you OK? 

You stared at the screen, willing her to respond. Another few minutes passed when you saw the bubble pop up, saying she was typing. 

Check your front porch. 

You frowned, picking up your phone and going to respond when another message appeared. 

I’m so sorry. 

“Anna?” You said, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. Your heart raced as you frantically called her. It rang once and then went to voicemail. “Fuck!” 

You sprinted for your front door, grabbing your keys from the bowl in your entryway and ripping the door open and you stopped in your tracks. 

Sitting there, on your front stoop and in her carseat and next to a diaper bag, was Ellie. 

“Hey sweetheart,” you said softly, picking up the carrier and folding the handle back, carrying her gently inside and setting the carseat on the kitchen table. “Just going to make sure you’re all OK…” 

You pulled back the blanket that had been tucked around her. She was all strapped into the carrier, her little legs and arms pulled in tight to her torso. You almost cried in relief when you saw her tiny chest rising and falling. 

“So where’s your mama baby girl?” You asked, watching her as you pulled up Anna’s number and dialed again. This time it rang out. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse. 

You tried to keep calm as you texted her. 

If you don’t answer I’m calling 911.

You gave her a few seconds to see the message before you called her and she picked up on the first ring this time. 

“I told you, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wet. 

“Sorry for what?” You asked. “Anna, just… just come here, we can talk about this…” 

“Talk about what?” She cut you off. “About the fact that I can’t do anything right by my own kid? I can’t even fucking feed her right, you heard the doctor today…” 

“We can figure it out,” you said quickly. “Doing… whatever it is you’re doing is not the answer. Just come here, we’ll take care of it together, we always do and…” 

“No, no there is no we,” she said. “You always fix it, you always handle it, not me. I’m just ruining her, I’m bad for her, I’m not capable of this. She should be yours not mine, she’s… she deserves better than me and…” 

“No,” you said, trying not to panic. “No, you’re her mother, what she needs is you! Anna, don’t do this, don’t…” 

“It’s not forever,” she said. “I’m just… I’m going away for a little while. I need to be better for her. I’ll come back when I can. Take care of her for me, OK?” 

“Anna, no, Anna don’t-“ 

You didn’t get a chance to finish. She hung up and you frantically tried to call her back but it just went straight to voicemail. 

“Fuck,” you teared up, looking down at your infant niece in her carrier. She was so small, she needed so much, so much you weren’t capable of giving her. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this afraid of anything, all the hope and potential carried in Ellie’s tiny body now resting on your shoulders. What were you supposed to do with all of that? When all you were capable of was failing?

You were about to do the only thing he could think to do - call Joel - when Ellie made one of her small noises, one that came just before she started crying and, sure enough, half a second later, she was wailing, her little legs kicking out as she did. 

“Hey now,” you said, desperate to soothe her. “You’re OK baby girl. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.” 

Anna had, at least, left the base to the carseat and a container of formula with the diaper bag on your porch. That, plus the things you’d stocked your house with so you could take Ellie for a few hours or even a day if Anna needed, made it so you could look after her without needing to make a store run for a day or two. You tried to focus on looking after her as best you could even though you had never felt so lost before in your life.

You moved all your office hours for Friday to virtual and did your best to take them with Ellie there, but it was hard. She was inconsolable all day. Every now and then, she would settle against you but then she seemed to realize that you were wrong. You didn’t feel like her mother or smell like her mother and you weren’t who was supposed to be taking care of her. It was like she could sense the thing about yourself that scared you most.

Things got worse as the day wore on. You’d been up with her all night and you’d had to take advantage of her brief periods of sleep to work that day and it seemed like she was getting more and more upset as the night wore on. She shoved her bottle away, her tiny face scrunched tight as she screamed. 

“Come on,” you said, crying right alongside her. “You… you have to eat something, I know I’m not your mom but you can’t just… you have to eat, please just eat something I promise you’ll feel better if you do.” 

She didn’t listen. She just cried in your arms and all you could think about was what Gale had told you. He’d been right about so many things, of course he was right about this, too. 

“Maybe you’re just too worked up,” you said, carrying her to her car seat and setting her gently inside it. “Just… going to try to calm you down, maybe then it’ll be OK.” 

You didn’t know if that would work but you were desperate. You carried her to the car and triple checked that she was secure before just driving. She liked the car, she always quieted down in the car. This had to help. It had to. 

Something had to. 

But it didn’t. You weren’t sure just how long you’d been driving aimlessly, Ellie wailing in the back seat, but you couldn’t keep doing this. Not to her. 

You weren’t sure how but you found yourself outside Joel’s house. It was dark outside, the glow of light from inside the houses on his street warm and welcoming and you wished, desperately, that you belonged with that light. That you could be somewhere soft and nurturing and where Ellie would be cared for the way she deserved, not the way you managed to ruin everything you touched. 

You gave up on stopping your own tears. Instead, you got out of the car and unhooked Ellie’s carseat from the base, looping your arm through the handle and carrying it to Joel’s front door. You knocked, even though you were sure he could hear the baby crying, and it was only a few seconds before he opened it. 

“Goldie?” He asked, looking you up and down, his eyes soft and wide. “What’s going on? What…” 

“Please, Joel,” you said, holding the carrier tightly against yourself. “I need your help.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Poor Goldie, Ellie and Anna! Stuff is ROUGH for them right now but don't worry, Joel is now on the scene.

We'll just have to see what a lot of stress and desperation from Goldie while Joel is being hot and paternal makes happen 👀

OK LOVE YOU BYEEEEEE!

Also thank you for reading because you're the best. Truly.

OK now love you bye ❤️

[the-winter-smoulder]

For The First Time

For The First Time

Characters: Bucky x Virgin!reader

Word Count: 1969

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, fluff, smut, virginity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), Language!

A/N: This was a request from my dear friend @Gemma. I hope this is everything you ever wanted and more 😊

You and Bucky had been dating for a few months, and things were starting to, uh, progress.

Last night, you could tell he really wanted to take things further, and you did too, but you hadn’t had “the talk” with him yet.

But now, feeling the way you did about him, and those damn urges taking over, you had to tell him your secret.

You’re a virgin.

Ugh… the dreaded “V” word. You assumed, though you did not know for sure, that Bucky was not a virgin, and try as you might, it felt a little awkward for you to bring it up. Not that there is anything wrong with it, but it’s just an awkward conversation. You never had to talk about doing hand stuff or oral, but this was different. This was far more intimate for you.

Bucky had agreed to take it slow when you first started going out, but you hadn’t had a conversation about it since, so the idea made you a little nervous.

As you waited for him to come over for your date, you couldn’t help but to start to feel anxious.

Why didn’t I just tell him before. It’s not embarrassing, it’s just a fact. Why am I so nervous about this?

Lost in thought, you jumped when you heard a knock on your door.

Fuck! It’s him.

“Come in!” you said, cheerfully.

“Hey, doll!” he smiled, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“Hi, Bucky,” you blushed, “Um, I was hoping you would be okay with us just staying in tonight? Pizza should be here any minute.”

“Yeah, that sounds great!” he said, hanging up his coat on a hook by the door and kicking off his boots.

“Okay, good,” you said, a little shakiness in your voice.

“Everything okay, doll? You sound nervous.”

Damn his super-soldier hearing!

“Um, yeah, everything is okay. I just have something I want to talk to you about. Nothing bad, just something I need to share.”

His response was interrupted by a knock at the door. He turned to answer it and pay the delivery kid. He closed the door and placed the pizza box on the counter.

“Are you keeping secrets from me?” he asked, a coy smile on his face.

“Well, yes and no. It’s not a secret, per se, just something we haven’t talked about.”

“Is it… um… about sex?” he asked quietly.

“Yeahhhh… yes. It is,” you replied, cheeks hot.

“Oh! Doll, don’t be embarrassed. You can tell me anything. Are we going too fast? Do you want to slow down?”

“No! Bucky! Just… stop for a second!” you laughed, “Just grab some pizza and let’s sit on the couch.”

You both settled on the couch, and Bucky looked at you with concern as you took a deep breath.

“Okay, Bucky. So, as you know, we’ve been getting a little more intimate lately, and I do enjoy it. I do want to take that next step with you, but…”

You stopped and took another deep breath. You closed your eyes and blurted out, “I’m a virgin!”

Bucky’s face softened as he leaned back, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, and he just smiled.

“That’s it?” he asked sweetly.

“Yes. That’s it.”

“Okay,” he smiled.

“Okay? That’s it? Just ‘okay’?”

“Okay, doll, calm down. It’s just… that’s okay,” he said, setting his plate on the coffee table. “I’m glad you told me. I’m sure you assumed that I’ve got more experience, and I do, but it’s okay. You know I would never do anything you don’t want me to, and I definitely wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Is that what you’re so nervous about?”

You thought about it for a minute, a smile creeping across your lips.

“Yeah, probably. I’m nervous about a lot of things. Will it hurt, what if I don’t like it, what if you don’t like it, what if I start crying…”

“Y/n, doll, stop,” he smiled, placing a hand on your knee, “None of that matters, not in the grand scheme of things. Look, we’ve done other stuff, but if it hurts, I’ll stop. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop, and we’ll never do it again. Don’t even worry about me not liking it… it’s you. I’m going to like it no matter what. And, if you cry… well, then you cry, and I will make sure you’re okay before we do anything else.

Y/n… we never have to do anything that you don’t want to do, I promise you. Absolutely no pressure, okay?”

You smiled at him and shook your head “yes.”

“Good. Let’s eat this while it’s still hot and watch a movie, okay?”

“Okay. Do you want to watch the next Lord of the Rings movie?”

“Yes! That sounds awesome!”

****************************

You finished eating and curled up with Bucky while watching the extended version of Return of the King. You had your arm across his chest, your head on his shoulder, and he stroked your hair, kissing your forehead every so often.

When the movie finished, you looked up at him and saw the biggest smile on his face.

“Did you like it, Bucky?”

“It was amazing! I loved it” he said with a little yawn.

“So, do you want to stay over?”

“If you want me to, absolutely,” he said, smiling and wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Race you to the bedroom!” you squealed, jumping up and running down the short hallway.

“You’re gonna get it!” he laughed, running after you. He tackled you gently onto the bed and things began the way they normally did.

Bucky began kissing your lips and neck. He slid his hands under your sweater, rubbing your back like he always did, as if to calm and soothe you. He moved to take your sweater off and began to kiss your neck again, moving toward your chest. You felt his hands slide your bra straps off your shoulders, his metal hand unclasping it from the back, his other hand pulling the fabric away from your body.

He licked his lips, and quickly his mouth was on your breast, tongue moving languidly around your nipple. You let out a moan, your fingers running through his hair. You felt him smile against your skin as he kissed your stomach, his hands on your hips. You felt his hands move around to your ass, fingertips pulling at the waistband, your leggings and panties rolling over your ass, your hips, your thighs.

Bucky tossed them aside and removed his own shirt, tossing it the way of your pants. You felt his fingers running up the sides of your calves, his palms rubbing over your knees as he gently pulled your legs apart.

He drew in a slow, deep breath, “Mmm… you always smell so sweet,” he said quietly. His face inched closer to your sex, kissing your inner thighs along the way.

You felt his warm, wet tongue slowly lick your dripping wet folds, and you let out a deep sigh. You arched your back as he placed your legs over his shoulders, his tongue delving deeper, swirling around your clit. He introduced his thick finger to the mix, sliding it slowly until it was all the way inside of you.

He looked up at you, making sure you were comfortable. When you let out a moan, you could feel him smiling against your sensitive skin, his tongue working its magic over your clit as his finger moved in and out of you.

“Another one?” he asked.

“Yes,” you whined, “More.”

You felt a slight stretch as he inserted the second finger. It felt so good that you let out a little giggle.

“Mmm, yeah, you like that, don’tcha, doll?”

“Yes, Bucky…. Feels so good. I… want more.”

“You sure? Tell me what you want, doll,” he said in a low, husky tone, fingers moving quickly in and out of you.

“Ahh, Bucky! Fuck! Feels so good,” you moaned, feeling yourself tighten around his fingers, grabbing at his metal arm. You came hard and fast, panting and moaning. Your eyes rolling back.

“Good girl. Tell me what you want, Y/n.”

“Take off your pants, Bucky,” you breathe, “I want you inside of me.”

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“Yes, Bucky. Please.”

He kissed your lips and you felt him move off of the bed. You sat up slightly, leaning back on your forearms. He met your gaze as he began to unbuckle his belt. You felt your cheeks get hot, his dominant lust-filled eyes staring you down as he unzipped his jeans.

You averted your gaze, watching him as he pushed his pants and underwear down over his hips, his muscled thighs tightening to let them drop to the floor with a soft thud.

He stepped out of his pants as he leaned forward, peppering your body with kisses as he crawled up from the foot of the bed to lay gently on top of you.

“You’re sure?” he asked again.

“I’m sure, Bucky. I want you.”

His leg moved to part your thighs. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his waist.

“Let me know if you need to stop,” he said, reaching down, grabbing his hard length and lining it up with your warm, dripping entrance.

You felt yourself stretch as he entered you, feeling a slight pinching sensation. You winced, sucking in a breath as he slid further into you. With a worried look on his face, he started to open his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“I’m okay, Bucky.”

He kissed your lips and moved his hips so he was fully seated inside of you. You were keenly aware of how he filled you up. The sensation was odd, but not completely uncomfortable. There was a little pain, but it was tolerable. You felt him slide back and forth slowly, gently. You could tell he was holding back for your benefit. He wanted this experience to be good for you, slow and sweet.

He looked into your eyes as he continued his movements. You moaned, closing your eyes, feeling the pleasure beginning to build. You clenched your thighs at his waist, trying desperately to hold onto him as he began to move faster.

You could feel his hot, panting breath on your neck. He nibbled your ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Something came over you that you couldn’t describe, and you gently bit his shoulder, sucking and licking the skin as he moaned, moving faster.

Both of you were panting and moaning as you felt pressure build in your abdomen. Bucky shuddered as his hips stuttered, stopping with his cock buried deep inside of you. You moaned loudly with pleasure as your walls tightened around his thick member.

Clearly, you’d had orgasms from his tongue and fingers before, but not like this. Something about him being on top of you and inside of you made this orgasm so much better.

You felt your thighs begin to shake as you loosened their grip on his waist. You felt his entire weight on top of you, sweat glistening on his forehead, neck and back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kissing your neck.

“Yes, Bucky. I’m fine,” you smiled, looking into his eyes, “That was amazing. Was it okay for you?”

“Doll… it was perfect. I loved it. I love you.”

“Bucky… I… I love you too.”

Bucky rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him so your head was on his chest. He gently massaged the back of your head and neck with his metal finger tips, moving his other hand up and down your spine.

Slowly, you both drifted off to sleep, the promise of a new day ahead of you, together and in love.

[red-doll-face]

Snow Angel

Chapter 2: sated < chapter one > chapter three

Low to Medium Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Arthur has been living by himself, laying low (for real this time) somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. After the whole Pinkerton and Micah debacle, he has been hiding away, waiting for it all to blow over, occasionally getting letters from the people who still know that he's alive. He's been alone awhile and at first, he thought he could handle a little loneliness. He has been wrong before. Lucky for him, you look like the perfect thing to break up the monotony.

Warnings: dubious consent, smut, naive reader, low honor Arthur as a warning but he’s not too bad, ‘yandere’ Arthur a bit ? I guess. Very possessive Arthur

This is actually the porn part so sorry, I ended up splitting the first chapter because I feel like 7000 words is a lot for people to do in one sitting. Thanks for reading! If you read the long version, this is just the second part of the first chapter. I’m figuring it out lol

WC: 5025 still long 😭

Tags: innocence kink, size kink, vaginal and oral sex, no TB thank god. Arthur is sweet still but has mean tendencies obviously.

Arthur shows you how a man treats his woman.

The weight of him thumps down the wooden floors of his home. He’s big and he seems very adept at killing things. And you think you’ve heard the name Arthur Morgan before. The very man has his big hand on your lower back, warm and firm. He guides you to sit, pulling a chair out for you at a small dining table, plates and tin cups, forks out for your dining needs. Very gentlemanly for such a gruff man.

“I already had my supper but I thought you might be hungry,” He sets down a bottle of fine brandy and a plate of steaming food. More of the potatoes and salt pork, fried in more pork fat. Your hands slowly reach for a fork. He has two small tumblers set out, in which he pours two small servings of the liquor. You don’t think you’ve had much to drink except perhaps a bit of wine. He slides one glass to you and you nod.

“Thank you-”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. Think your company is enough for me,” He stares and he watches until you finally take a slow, small bite of the food he had laid out for you. As if the name he called you wasn’t enough to make heat rise to your face. He hasn’t done anything too bad yet. But you can’t shake the feeling that something at some point may go awry. Not that you could do much about it. He’s made sure of that. Finally he takes a sip of his drink, throwing it back with no hesitation. It slips easily down his throat. You decide to taste it and it immediately begins to burn the back of your throat, you can’t help but make a displeased face at the bitter taste. You can hardly bring yourself to swallow the fiery liquid. He smirks.

“Now ain’t that cute. You ain’t never had no drink before?” Arthur’s face is smug and endeared all at once. As if he’s just seen a puppy or a litter of kittens, all snuggled up. You feel embarrassed at his reaction.

“I have; some church wine, once,” You murmur out, trying to sound brave but you only sound defensive and inexperienced. Based on what you’ve seen of him, you don’t think there isn't liquor he hasn’t tried, an animal he hasn’t shot, or a gun he hasn’t fired.

“Where you from, girl?” You finally tell him your name in, again, what is a defensive and girlish tone when you had wanted to be assertive. He quirks a brow, repeats his question and somehow your name in his mouth makes you shiver. The half smile he gives you is even more charmed. He leans over the table, pouring himself another glass of brandy.

“I’m from west of here, out by Long Pine and that abandoned lumber mill. My family has lived there a while. My Pa traps and once upon a time, he went to California to find some gold with my uncle. My ma is from round here…” He listens to you, attentively. Focused on how your mouth moves, how your fingers mess with your hair. The prongs of the fork sink into a softened piece of the potatoes he made you. He nods, watching as you take more and more bites of the food he has given you.

“Not really from nowhere, moved around a lot when I was a boy. Had to make my own life. Didn’t matter though, that all went up in smoke…” It seems as if he remembered bitter memories at your included topic of family. It's all rather secretive, no Ma or Pa to be mentioned. The crackling fire does little to fill the silence.

“Do you like living here?” You ask him, hoping to not put him in a bad mood, especially with drink involved. It was your turn to question him anyway. He looks up at you, his eyes meet yours and your stomach feels strange. It feels like he's glad you’ve asked him a question. Like your interest is unexpected.

“Well, maybe not right now, weather’s shit, long ride to town, real quiet and lonely, but I can think of a few things that have made it more bearable today,” You nod along, his voice rough and deep, you can feel how it almost touches you, over your ears and down the sides of your neck. “I’ll let ya finish, all this yammerin’ on,” you try to finish but he really has given you much more food than you had even wanted nor needed. He corks his brandy, storing it away and takes away the glass you hadn’t touched after your first sip. He finishes your glass, putting away the dishes in the basin.

You’ve eaten all you could and you stand, placing the dish with the rest.

“I ain’t the best cook but I get on okay,” He stands in the small kitchen. As you set down the plate, he corners you again.

“Might be better if you did it next time, the cookin’, I mean. Your Ma teach you to cook?” You can read the subtext. Did she teach you to cook for a man, your prospective husband and family. The idea makes you feel strange. Just what does this man think is going to happen?

“As much as any mother teaches her daughter, I suppose. Somehow I feel you wouldn’t be too hard to impress,” You let your tongue move before you think but he seems to just enjoy it. He breaks into a smile, playful but still, he has you backed into the counter.

“I like your little spitfires, girl, think I’d like your cookin’ too, more than any fancy bullshit they make in St. Denis,” You feel that shy heat in your cheeks. A compliment for your cooking and you haven't so much as boiled some water. His hands are up on you, your hips, petting and rubbing with his thumbs. “You’re just the prettiest girl, you know that?”

“Mr. Morgan…” you saying his name in a soft tone only makes him more excited, leaning in. He crowds you with his body, his broad shoulders and muscled forearms trapping you against his wooden counter.

“Y’ain’t got no boy at home, do ya? Some yellow-bellied greenhorn, trying to touch on you like this?” He’s almost angry at just the idea of you having a younger beau waiting for you at home. No man has ever called you pretty, let alone the prettiest thing he ever saw. Maybe being alone on this mountain has driven him mad. “Wouldn't blame the feller, I ain’t exactly no better,” his hands tighten, pinch into your flesh, to almost the bone.

“Sir, you must be drunk, I don’t think you mean that,” his expression becomes more annoyed at your words.

“So you do?”

“No, I don’t have anyone, Mr. Morgan,” his grip is on your waist now, just under your breasts. A satisfied smile stretches his lips, his eyes relax again.

“You can call me Arthur but I kinda like when you call me that, respectful little girl I got. N’ I ain’t the kinda man gets drunk on half a bottle,” The front of his wide frame is up against yours again, a quiet groan leaving him, something rather stiff presses into you. “Mean every damn word I’m sayin’. I look like I’m a liar?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Your voice falters slightly, “I’m sorry, I hardly know you, Mister, I shouldn’t be here, I can’t-” You sound so squeaky and whiny but you have no wherewithal to notice. Your hands come up to grab him, trying to push him away in a panic. He’s finally pushed you enough that you’ve started to squirm.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll make an honest woman outta you, said I’d never leave ya alone,” Then there’s an iron grip on your wrists. “Swear I’ll make you my wife,” He’s shushing you, calming you like a skittish mare. His lips against your ear, the scratchy stubble on his jaw against the delicate skin of your face. Your arms stop pulling so he lets you go, slowly. He takes a deep breath, thinking for a moment. He deliberates, looking down at your chest, at your face and hair. You look up, bewildered and unsure.

“Darlin’, I’m gonna take ya to bed now and I don’t want too much fuss from you, do you understand me?” His voice is hot and cold, low like a sweeping bird of prey. Your eyes well with tears. You can’t believe that this man is the one who saved your life. His hand is around your neck, so small in his hold. You can only imagine what will take place in the next moments of your life.

“I said, do you understand me,” He punches his words out one by one. Arthur’s fingers don't tighten around your neck, a small notion of his patience. He hasn’t quite ravaged you like you thought he might either, hasn’t torn your clothes and groped at you crudely. Hasn't gripped cruelly at the hair on your head. You hum and nod, trying to stay strong but you’ve never been particularly good at that. He hasn’t been too mean about this and you hope nothing you do spurs him to be meaner.

“Good girl,” he picks you up, like the bride he thinks you are, carrying you towards the bedroom you had changed in. He’s much more excited now, happy to show off his strength. His tone is proud; you think of you but you're not too sure. You think you’ll make the distinction.

“Please, Arthur, no,” You whine through your hiccups, trying not to sound too defiant but it’s hard with the word ‘no’ in your mouth. “Can’t we jus-t-t-talk more? Please…” You cling to his shoulders, aiming for his heart strings. He looks down to your face, your appeasing expression. “We haven’t even kissed yet…”

“Well, honey, I can fix that,” His smile widens, he sets you down on the bed, blankets sprawled over the mattress. His mouth is over yours as he spreads your legs and pushes the breadth of him into the space. “You're so goddamn beautiful when you look up and beg,” His lips fit over yours and start kissing, licking along the softest flesh. You squeal and hold onto his shoulders, legs kicking weakly at nothing. His lips don’t feel unpleasant, you actually quite like the feeling of him kissing you, even with the taste of liquor on him.

“My girl's first kiss, how special is that,” It’s piping hot and messy, his spit all over you, the strange feeling of his tongue trying to touch yours, inevitably succeeding. You gasp and grip onto him. Your heart feels like it’s going much too fast.

“As good as you look wearing my clothes, I think it’s time we take these off you,” He pulls at the buttons of the long johns you put on, fiddling and then impatiently tearing at them.

‘Christ alive’ are the words he mutters when he has the front opened, staring at your breasts. Your face is white hot and your hands reflexively move to cover your chest. However, he’s faster than you, grabbing onto you. His eyes of blazing blue warn you without a word spoken, then they scan over you, drinking in every detail. His gaze makes you burn, you can feel the reverence of every second he spends committing you to memory.

Like a furnace, he runs so hot, making you sweat. His hands are slow and gentle, rubbing the swell of them, watching the way your face reflects your feelings. You're not supposed to enjoy how a man touches you, especially a man like Arthur. But his hands are just the right texture, temperature.

You can hardly think of anything to say, listening as he pants, getting spurred on by the sight of your skin, your soft underbelly and the sensitive tips of your nipples. How to make him stop is completely lost to you. A small part of you doesn't want to find out how.

“C’mere,” he lifts your midsection to his lips with his big rough hands, helping himself to you, putting one of your nipples in his mouth. Every bit of you tingles, a million shivers rack your insides. The sound you let out makes him laugh. Each swipe of his tongue, glance of his teeth on you makes you squirm. His stubble tickles your chest and scrapes roughly. Your hands are easily held down, he catches them.

“I thought I said there weren't gonna be much fuss,” His voice is firm, scolding. “Tell me you were listenin’ to what I damn well told you,” You flinch even if he hasn't even so much as raised his voice. You nod again. “C’mon darlin’, wanna hear you say you’ll be listening to me from now on,” His hands wrench the rest of the union suit off you, down your now bare legs.

“Yes, I’ll listen,” you breathe and whisper, putting those meek airs he seemed to like in you were you not giving him lip.

“That’s better, you know how to make me happy already, don’tcha?” This time, his head lowers to tuck into your neck, biting and sucking. The feeling has you squirming away more, harrowing noises that embarrass you to the core leak from your voice box. Your fingers are in his hair, legs squeezing him as hard as they can.

“You like this, I know you do,” when you try to shake your head, his hand slaps your thigh, like a horse that needs to get. You feel betrayed almost, having convinced yourself that he wasn’t lying, that he wanted to be sweet on you, marry you. That he wouldn’t hurt you. Whimpering and a small cry, make him look at you.

“Aw, honey, don’t like when I hit ya?” You’re so confused, as if he would care, his tone only slightly mocking you. A laugh jitters his words, a deep soft sound. Warmly, he kisses you, rubbing along your thigh, spreading you open. Can hardly see when his hand dips down between your legs, his thumb grazes the little slit which usually was nothing more than your unmentionables to you. The hair that grows there is tenderly pet and laid flat by gentle strokes of his fingers, making you whine, shutting your legs. To no avail on his strong grip on your legs.

“Sometimes girls who don’t listen need a little spankin’ from their daddy, don’t they? Not all the time but only when you ain’t actin’ right,” a finger of his starts to explore the tightness of you, pushing against you. Your body feels alight, a pure pleasure filling your lower belly. A pleasure which you had always been told was for lesser women. But how did he know how to make you feel so good?

“Promise I won’t hit ya if you keep listenin’, honey, never raise a hand to your face, neither. Girl like you don’t need a violent man,” your legs are tense and your lungs stall, unevenly breathing as he takes liberties exploring your most private spots. His finger is shallowly pumping against you, testing your limits, watching your face. Your body is half relaxed and half electrified. You can hardly stand to loop up at him, shy and ashamed but not enough to stop your body from relishing in his ministrations.

“Need a gentle hand, don’t you? Like when I’m sweet to ya,” dipping his head lower, he licks down the center line of your body, “need your man to lick your little pussy, sweetheart,” the sticky spit dries on your skin, mouthing at your belly and down to your pubic triangle, tongue parting the fattened folds. If you were being forced to do this, why couldn’t you fight anymore, couldn’t kick at him? Why could you only whine for him? Were you really so weak? You spasm and moan, thighs over his ears, his hair tickling you. Small fires are set underneath your skin, you don’t understand why your body panics but also receives him, wants him to continue, finds his touch pleasing.

Arthur spreads you wide over the edge of his bed. Your hazy eyes look at the wooden ceiling, hips moving around in search of the way he makes you feel. He licks along your slickness and drinks you in. After a minute of his exploratory advances, he finds the spot you so longed for him to touch, heaven blooming on the tip of his tongue. The loudest he’s ever gotten you, abandoning the fight to enjoy the smoothness of him moving in circles.

Everything seems to slow down, makes you feel as drunk as drinking that bottle of fine brandy might have gotten you. You can’t understand what he’s making your body feel and do, continuing his assault. There’s something building in you, the pleasure is stacking up and you’re not sure what should happen when you’ve no more room for it inside you anymore. It feels warm, sloshing against the walls of your lower belly. Something about him makes you feel protected, even as he goes against your will.

“Arthur,” it's embarrassing how uncontrollable you are, how you’ve just let it slip from you in the face of this man. Your rather lewd call of his name makes him groan, licking all that you’ve been leaking from his lips. You were warned that a sin such as this was simple to avoid but you had let Arthur do what he wanted with you. Any propriety of yours peeled off along with his union suit. You want to cry, every tingle, every pinprick of pleasure, every bead of sweat pushes you further. His hands hold you, thumbs pinning you wide open for him. An undignified moan has you covering your mouth. You don't want to caterwaul like a cat.

“Wanna hear you, honey,” backing away from you, his fingers taking the place of his tongue. They start pushing harder than they had before, trying to pull even more from your lips. Tears track down the sides of your face. You promised you’d listen so you let him hear your desperate whining. You call his name, your legs helping your hips wiggle. Guiding his fingers to the perfect place.

“Arthur, I can’t, stop,” It's a weak plea, something is happening to you, wells up inside you, and you feel fit to burst. Your face is all scrunched up, mouth drawn open to cry for him. He responds by squeezing your hand.

“I ain’t gonna stop, girl,” You thrash, his fingers slick, sliding in and out of you, faster and faster. The feeling of him defiling you is so warm and good, even as he holds you down, waiting out whatever wracks your body. Your back arches and he gives you an affirming noise, encouraging you to buck and meet him, crying out. Floods and floods of sensation make you writhe and twitch, your mind blank for just a moment, completely subject to his will. And he has surely imposed it on you, you lay at his mercy, panting, confused and so very relaxed. The most perfect feeling you’ve ever felt, and at the hands of a man who has just met you. At least he also proposed. You don’t have the courage to look down at him. When you do work yourself up into looking, he has the most satisfied smirk on his face, looking at how he’s ruined you with just the touch of his tongue and the tips of his fingers. With sweat dripping all over you, and your hair all tangled about you, you're hardly the image of beauty.

Yet the look he gives you makes you wonder just what he sees in you. All of the comments at just how pretty, beautiful he found you. His grumbles are low, a panther's purr, a wolf's growl.

“I don’t think you know what you’ve done to me,” He drags out his words, his hands unbuttoning his pants, pulling down his suspenders, leaving them dangling down his hips. There's an erotic undertone to the jingle of his belt as he unbuckles it and spreads it open. His shirt, he unbuttons in a hurry, ripping and popping at least two of the buttons off. Revealing his chest and his own belly, soft but still showing all the years a man like him has labored, kept himself upright on a horse for hours. There are scars, pale and jagged all over him and you think of him telling you where he got them. You're getting more and more nervous, you can see what you know men have going on between their legs but you haven't seen one so close.

Arthur is only happy to show you, rather proud looking of his manhood, standing at the edge of the bed. Your skin is damp but you can’t bring yourself to complain about the temperature. His hand comes to caress it, slow motions over the entire length, while watching your face, staring into your eyes.

“C’mere,” Husky and slow, his command moves you, makes you sit up and let him pet your hair, your cheeks. “Give it a kiss, honey, right there on the tip,” Putting your mouth on him makes you shiver, sure that this isn’t what husband and wife do behind closed doors but who were you to argue? Impolitely, you can’t tear your eyes away from him, staring at the small slit at the very tip, the vascular texture, the red and pink flush to the skin. Wiry hair crowns the bottom, the same dark blond of his stubble. His hand only covers some of it and you had thought that his hands were big. His hips inch forwards, eager to get you to lick and kiss him. Something in your throat makes you gulp.

“Be a good girl, ‘fore I lose my goddamn patience,” Rushing to appease his rather short tone, you nod and approach, trying not to seem so tense. You're sure your face gives it away anyhow but he seems unbothered, gladly holding your hair, fingers rubbing along your scalp.

“There’s my girl,” He sighs as you kiss, gentle and timid, a small peck at the very tip and center of him. It's warm but you don't taste anything with your lips closed.

“Do you… want another?” Hushed words fall from your mouth and he gives you another smug look. Looking down at you, at the way you tremble, your nude form. He must know that he has you right where he wants you, naked on his bed, about to do unholy things with him, despite your reluctance just twenty minutes ago. Easy and whore-like. You thought good men don't like women like that. Maybe he’s not such a good man.

“Mmhm, then you can open that sweet little mouth of yours,” You kiss and ease your mouth open, a groan escaping him at your tongue brushing against his smooth tip. Your mouth obediently widens to fit him over the width of your tongue, salt and the natural smell of him on your taste buds. “Take me, jus’ like that, sweetheart,” you’ve never thought in your whole life that this could happen to you, a man holding you and making you take him in your mouth. You struggle to inhale around him, trying not to retch as he pushes forward. He looks down at you, breathing heavily at the mere sight of you. Could swear there's some type of love in his eyes, some softness that gives way for you. Even if you think he’s mad.

“Don’t know how I got on without ya, darlin’, won't be able to after this,” Arthur pants out his words. His rough noises of pleasure spur you on, relaxing your jaw for him. He grunts when he hits the back of your mouth and throat and you whine, holding yourself open for him, flushed with heat. Your fingers go to touch his thighs, feeling skin you’ve never felt before. The hairs and marks on his skin are completely novel to you. The first time you’ve actually touched him. His words lull you, soothe you more than you want them to, considering he could still prove them to be empty promises.

Very suddenly, he pulls himself away from your mouth, a debaucherous line of your saliva dripping down to the floor, the weight of it pulling between you two. You feel dazed, gone from the world until Arthur pulls your attention back up, tilting your face to look upon him. He looks smitten, a thumb pulling across your lips, wet with the deed you’ve just done.

“Was gonna finish in your mouth, tha’s how good y’are, make a man like me finish from just the sight of ya, chokin’ on me,” He hitches you up the bed, so there's more space to take up more of it. You know what’s next but at the same time, have no idea what to expect.

“Look at what you’ve done, just by walkin’ in here, lookin’ like you do,” He strokes along himself again, spreads your legs, like he’s meant to be there. “Drove me damn near crazy, teasin’me, actin’ all sweet. Can tell you just need a man to be sweet to,” Your face is hot at his usual heavy flattery, not nearly close to used to it. Even after he had talked all his talk. His hands are on your hips, squeezing your waist. Then the tip of him is pressed flush to the slit between your legs. He sees the way you tense up.

“Relax, darlin’, can’t fill you up if you’re shut tighter than a frog's ass,” He chuckles and you wince at his peculiar and crude comment. “Aw, I’m just messin’, c’mon, show me that pretty little spot,” reluctantly, your legs open and you relax again, letting him cover you, press into you. “There she is, I know what you need, girl,” The push of just the tip of him makes you whimper, panicking and clenching your thighs on him. He fights to gain control of you, his voice in your ear to shush you.

He’s lost in his own pleasure for a moment, letting you cling to his chest and shoulders, pumping shallowly inside of you. The most obscene slick-wet sounds fill up the room, along with his groans, your squeaky whines. You're frightened at how quickly your body accepts the feeling of him officially taking your innocence away, turning the uncomfortable stretch into the most toe-curling warmth inside of you, the sweetest pain. Every loose part of you bounces to the rhythm of his slow rocking.

“Lemme hear how good you feel, honey,”

‘Arthur…Please,” you cry and beg for him, not entirely deciding on what you want him to do. He seems to know anyway, pushing harder and faster. Arthur may not be your husband and you not his wife, but he treats you so well, kissing you, reassuring you, holding you so tight.

“Who do you belong to?” He pants between his pleasured grunting, rocking his hips and slamming against the most sensitive parts of you. “Y’ain’t listenin’, girl,” He smacks your inner thigh, making you squeal again, clenching down tight.

“I said, who do you belong to?” His hand is on your throat, there's the smallest squeeze, right between his thumb and middle finger. The growl in his words makes you swallow, letting him feel the effect he has on you.

“You, Arthur,” Your answer is soft and just what he wanted to hear, a hazy smile breaking his straight face.

“That’s right, only man you need,” Slinging your legs up on his elbows, he makes it feel as if he’s been going easy on you, the frame of his bed almost scraping against the wooden floors. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, you’ve got the tightest little pussy,” You certainly feel as if he’s stretching you on him, the thickness and length pressing into. So delicious, you roll your hips, even if you don't notice it until he’s smirking down at you, all smug and Arthur-like.

“Gonna make yourself finish on me, sweetheart? Makin’ yourself feel good?” He lets out his gruff laugh, which compels you to stop your movements on him, shy and embarrassed. Your little pout makes him grab at your face. His wolfish grin doesn't falter, even as he grunts and forces himself as deep as he can, into the squeeze of your walls.

“Keep goin’, don’t you stop now,” He holds your face, not too harshly, you grind into him, the dirty slap of his hips into your thighs so obscene. Shivering and bucking against him, you feel that euphoria spread down your muscles, boiling your blood. Your moan has him groaning and holding you down, grabbing your hips so tight. Your spasms don’t stop him from rutting his hips into yours.

“Ah, shit, darlin’-” In a hurry, he pulls away. You whine, your body missing him, missing the stretch of him within you, the fire it sends racing up your spine. Your grip is practically tearing into his arms and shoulders. The sound he makes is like nothing you've ever heard before, a growl of what sounds like so much pleasure it's painful. Something hot and messy splatters against your skin, all over the softness of your belly. His face shows his relief, his brows are still drawn together, Arthur’s arm wipes sweat from his forehead.

He gasps for air, watching as you ease and relax. The pads of his fingertips pet down your face, so soothing and mindful. It's truly suffocating now, the heat in the room makes you wish you could open a window. You're exhausted out of your mind, limbs numb. He hums, turning you over gently, kissing along your neck and lips. ‘So good for me, honey’s and sweetheart’s and darling’s’ tumble from his lips, slow and easy praises. He licks at you like you're made of honey, down your neck and chest. Drifting off, you murmur and sigh.

Sorry if you had to repeat this lmao, thanks for reading if you haven’t seen it !!! 😭❤️❤️❤️

[keen-li]

What you need | 02

synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? do you even know what you need.

Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.

jungkook x reader.

prev | next

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'’I’ve been in Seoul for a week now’’ he says hand in pocket, and tall figure towering over you as you just stand there.

‘’oh,’’ you say not knowing what else you could add. Namjoon’s aura is quite intimidating for you.

‘’I’m sorry I delayed your flight though.’’

The awkward smile you’ve got on your face makes him chuckle.

You take the time during his smile to admire the little dents on both his cheeks. You’ve never seen a man with dimples. Or maybe you're just paying too much attention to namjoon's face.

‘’That's alright yn’’ The way he says your name has a little more essence than the way others say it. ‘’I hope you enjoyed your lunch at least’’

You smile at the thought of lunchtime with jungkook. You enjoyed yourself and had your first full meal. Which you’re glad about.

You don't know if it will happen again it jungkook isn't around to force feed you.

‘’yeah I did’’ you smile and Namjoon can tell you’re not smiling at him.

‘’is it a boyfriend?’’ he asks walking on eggshells.

You internally scoff.

‘’that’s personal, don’t you think’’ you say knowing jungkook is far from your boyfriend. But it is personal for him to stick his nose in.

‘’you’re right, I apologize’’ he says, ‘’ I'm overstepping’’ You don't reply instead just let the silence sink in. You think you've indulged in personal conversation for too long. You never go past hi's and hellos when with make customers and neither do you spend so much time admiring their faces, but here you.

‘’what car do you have in mind’’ you change the topic and get to working. You’re not going to get yourself into personal conversations with a client. Last thing you need is more men on your plate.

‘’honestly, all of them’’

You know people like Namjoon, have too much cash and don’t know where to spend it and want to show it off (softly of course)

‘’wow, that’s a lot. Giving me a run for my money’’ you scoff

Namjoon shows you his dimples once more. You walk forward to the first car and Namjoon’s eyes follow your figure.

‘’I think you can handle it’’

-

‘’sorry I'm late’’ You walk to the booth jimin, willoe, and jungkook are sat at. All eyes are on you as you try and calm your breathing.

‘’what happened to you? ’’ willoe spits out eyeing you in concern as you breathe like you’ve got asthma.

‘’got off at the wrong stop and had to power walk here’’ you puff out. Jungkook moves out of the way so you can sit by the window and opposite facing willoe.

‘’you walked? What happened to your car’’ jimin asks staring at you even more concerned. You can see from the look on his face that he’s worried about you. It’s the first time you’ve seen him since your phone call. So he takes the time to analyze you.

‘’My car’s in the shop’’ Immediately you say it Jungkook’s eyebrows go up and he turns to face you. You bite your lip and avoid his eyes knowing what’s on his mind after your words.

You fight the urge to laugh nervously.

‘’That’s what happens when you don’t drive it.” Willoe spits out munching on some cheese sticks.

‘’I did drive it’’ for like a week, you honestly don’t even know why you bought the car if you weren’t willing to start driving it. You kinda place the blame on the fact that you recently got your license and are still shit scared of the road. Jungkook offers to help you get comfortable but you always procrastinate.

‘’what shop’s your car in?’’ jungkook eyes you warningly as his tongue grazes his inner cheek. He’s asking to provoke an answer.

‘’just some shop near work’’ You avoid long eye contact cause you know he’s probably feeling some way about it and you don’t want to face it.

‘’you didn’t tell me about it?’’ his words come out like a silent fire and everybody else at the table can feel the heat. So, willoe and Jimin ignore as they look at each other and speak with they’re eyes.

‘’yeah. I saw you were busy and I didn’t want to bother you’’ you spit out a little harsh. You understand what’s got his mood changed but you don't think it’s that big of a deal. You took your car to another auto repair shop, so what? ‘’it’s not that big of a deal kook’’ your words leave you mouth too quick for your liking.

‘’yeah you're right it’s not’’ his tone says otherwise. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being. He can get childish sometimes over nothing and it bugs you.

‘’okay how has everyone been’’ willoe chimes in to change the air and you couldn’t be happier. But you were gonna have to talk about it later anyways.

-

‘’Now that the house is sold I have less work on my plate. Cause that house was impossible to sell’’ She exaggerates her tone and emphasizes how hard it was.

‘’That's great babe, I'm happy for you’’ Jimin rubs his hand on her thigh.

‘’thanks’’ she replies blush on her cheeks.

‘’how about you yn, how’s work?’’ she turns to you, who's mind is so far away.

‘’as horrible as ever but at least I just got a really big client’’ you adjust in your seat.

‘’ou, who?’’ willoe puts her elbows on the table.

‘’just some entrepreneur. I think he lives in France or something’’ you state like it’s nothing.

‘’he?’’ you can see the tease in Jimin’s eyes.

‘’please shut up jimin’’ You roll your eyes and scoff.

‘’what did i do?’’ he shrugs his shoulders amusingly.

‘’I thought you only worked with women?’’ jungkook decides to finally speak to you and it’s nothing more than a shallow inquiry.

‘’It’s not that I only work with women, it’s just that I prefer them over men.” You the words come out a little sharp and bored. You bite awkwardly into your cheese stick.

Jungkook hums.

‘’I know you want to say something’’ you turn back you Jimin as jungkook goes back to being silent after having his query's answered

‘’nope,’’ he shakes his head childishly.

‘’say it’’ you narrow your eyes.

‘’Nothing. Just be careful with these entrepreneurs from Europe’’

‘’why? He’s Korean though’’ you defend.

‘’doesn’t change a thing’’ willoe adds, she’s always on Jimin’s side. That’s what happens when in a debate with a couple.

‘’Their favourite thing is to prey on girls from here and promise them a fantasy’’ jungkook spits out. You can’t believe he’s still sulking.

You look at them as they seem to agree with each other. Why do they always act like they know better than you?

‘’you guys are being so dramatic. I'm not even interested in him like that’’ you insist ‘’plus I promised myself to never date again’’ you say like a vow and jungkook’s heart throbs in his throat.

‘’Whatever, I hope you just stick to your word’’ Jimin mutters with a cheeky smirk pasted on his face.

‘’yeah I will’’ your mood goes down a bit. You will prove them wrong.

You watch the waiter put the food down on your table and willoe is almost drooling.

‘’you’re gonna droll all over the table, babe’’ you hear jimin mock her before she lands a gentle smack on his shoulder and a soft mumble of words leave her mouth.

You turn to stare at jungkook to see if he’s still sulking. He is. You frown at how distant you feel from him when he’s like this.

You’re busy talking about your week and just some funny moments.

You watch willoe and Jimin bicker and it makes you smile at how cute they are.

You’re smiling when you turn to look at jungkook again. Your smile drops when you watch how silent he is and how he hasn’t touched his food.

‘’you okay?’’ he doesn’t seem to catch what you say immediately but when he does his smile and reassurance are unconvincing.

You don't poke more at it. He can’t be seriously this moody over you taking your car else where.

You're forced to stare out the window cause of the awkward silence in Jungkook’s car. The whisper of the wind the only conversation going on.

You haven’t spoken since you left the restaurant. You don’t want to nag him but you’re just worried he’s upset about the car thing when you didn’t mean to make him feel bad.

‘’kook’’ you speak so softly and unsurely you almost think he doesn’t hear. But the hard hum he releases lets you know he’s heard you. Now that you have the floor you wonder if you should even ask, you don't want to irritate him.

‘’Are you mad?’’ he raises his brow at you but still stares at the road. ‘’about the car thing’’

‘’I'm not mad’’ his tone says otherwise.

He takes a turn.

‘’it doesn’t seem that way’’ you ease in more.

‘’well I'm not’’ It comes out sharp and angry causing you to raise your brows ‘’Sorry’’ he murmurs out.

‘’I never meant to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t want to bother you with my junkie car’’ Your car was far from junkie but you’re just spitting out rubbish to ease the tension.

‘’it wouldn’t be a bother’’ he takes another turn. He doesn’t even know why he feels the way he does cause he’s not really mad, he just has this dull achy feeling in his chest and he doesn’t know why it’s there. But it’s there and making its existence known.

‘’I know, but I’ve seen you. You’ve got so much on your plate’’

You are right.

‘’I know but I just wished you’d told me, I could’ve recommended somebody I know’’

Why jungkook prefers you go to him about car issues is because he knows how some other auto repair shops work. They see women and find an opportunity to swindle. He believes he’s told you enough about it. But he still worries and prefers you tell him and he deals with it.

He pulls over at a red light.

‘’I’m sorry’’ you say taking a risk and bringing your hand into his free one, while the other stays on the wheel. Your body shivers at his warm hold which is contrary to your freezing ones.

You bring his hand to your lips to place a peck on it, just for fun and to catch his reaction. Jungkook crunches his face at the action, not that he minds but it just feels weird.

‘’don’t kiss my hand’’ he chuckles out. Then he interlocks your fingers together.

In your friendship you’ve become comfortable with this little holds and touches, so nothing feels weird about this. Just comforting.

‘’why?’’ you question with a huge teasing smile on your face.

‘’cause I'm the one who should be kissing yours’’

You watch him pull your hand to his lips. With his eyes locked on yours, he places a tender kiss on the skin.

The action soothes the ache in Jungkook’s heart, slightly. It brings some form of comfort to him.

You smile when he pulls his lips away, you can feel his lips still tingle on your skin.

You don’t know what to do but smile. At least he doesn’t seem to be mad.

The green light causes him to pull his eyes back to the road.

You try to pull your hand away from his so that it’s easier for him to drive. But his grip tightens around your hand, you raise a brow at him confused.

‘’ your hands are cold, I’m just warming them’’ he smirks and his thump caresses your skin.

--

‘’you don't wanna come up?’’ you lean against the window and wait for his response. ‘’I have banana milk?’’ you bribe.

He sucks air between his teeth ‘’it’s tempting, but I can't’’

‘’Maybe next time?’’ he bargains and you nod.

‘’yeah sure’’ you back away from his car.

‘’I’ll call you though’’ he says before he drives away, almost reluctantly. He watches you figure through the side mirror and watch his car disappear. The sad look on your face makes jungkook want to turn around.

But its not a sad look, more of a ‘I’m grateful to have you as a friend’ look.

When you’re back in your apartment and into your warm comfy bed. You throw your coat somewhere on the floor and make a mental note to pick it up soon, it was too expensive to throwing on the floor. But you’re exhausted.

Your mind slowly and unintentionally slips to the moment and feeling of jungkook holding your hand. You’ve held hands before but in the car, it felt...

In that moment for the first time, you never thought of yunho.

Ring, ring.

You groan when you hear your phone ring. It could be willoe cause she promised to call when she got home, but knowing willoe she’d never call cause she would forget to. Or it could even be jungkook. Your heart jumps at the thought.

Your smile drops and you let the phone ring to voicemail when you see the name that’s there. Unchanged still saved with the red heart and teddy bear emoji. You wonder why you never deleted it.

That sick and horrible feeling returns when you see the text that follows up on your screen.

Yunnie: I know you probably don't wanna talk to me, but I really wanted to hear your voice.

Yunnie: I've missed you.

Yunnie: are you free this weekend, I wanna talk things out.

You have a mix of emotions going through you and you can’t think. You could honestly throw up. Why the fuck is he texting you and why the fuck do you feel your heart pound.

The feeling gets even worse when a message from jungkook pops up and you open his chat.

[image]

Kook: goodnight bunny, <3

The picture of him on his couch with his black t-shirt and pajamas on and bunny smile in view causes you to smile. It almost makes you forget your dilemma for a second.

You: goodnight kook <3

[niechys]

Now how does one know if an ask has been eaten? but I guess nevermind? I also did a few revision so I'm posting it here is stead.

So, this is a bit of my spin on @keferon #tf mecha universe. Basically an au of Transformers francise where some of the characters are human who pilot robot but some are still Cybertronian and how they interact.

First Aid is a medic turned pilot who pilot a mech haunted by Vortex.

I think we haven't explore a lot about First Aid being a freak. So Ima take some time to do just that. This should go back to before First Aid got used to connecting to Vortex.

Also an excuse to write some gore. I totally wasn't going for that but I guess I needed it.

Also probaly lots of grammar errors incoming.

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

It was in biology class when he first got to dissect an animal at school. His friends had looked at him weird because he was a little too enthusiastic about it. Most kids were curious alright, but he already knew these stuff. He read in the books and was ecstatic to see the real thing, to cut the real thing apart.

After that He learned to keep it down. To hide the sparkle in his eyes even as he entered medical school. People don't cut things open for fun. Even if he did it for study, he shouldn't be having fun doing it.

---

It started with a soft mumble.

Felix curled into a ball on the pilot seat, knees hugged tight to his chest. Restraint in place but not connected to the neural link, not touching the controls. Watching intently as Vortex sliced through monsters' limbs.

It was one of his early mission as a pilot. Hot Rod was sent out with him. The red mech fighting several hundred meters to his right. The Quintesson had sent monsters with long, jointed legs and tentacle. They looked like someone cross bred a spider crab with an octopus with a hundred arms. Except they are the size of a big building. A bunch of them together look like mountains were moving to meet them.

Vortex's twin blades cut through tentacle, splashing green blood everywhere. Sometimes he wondered if Vortex got his callsign because of this move, twirled the two blades around himself, cutting everything in his path like a tornado.

The blade hit a hard plating on one of the legs. He had to pull back before going for another tentacle instead. Or hacked at the leg until it came off. It wasn't a big trouble for Vortex, but then he heard a small voice from inside his cockpit like a whisper.

"Hit the joint"

"Under there"

"That seam there"

First Aid was still curled up in a little ball on the pilot seat, watching. Something sparkle in those blue eyes behind his visor. Mouth mumbling occasionally, telling body parts or directions.

At first Vortex ignore the words. But when he started looking for the parts First Aid says and hit them, he realized it was more effective. It's like a weak spot had been pointed out.

Amidst the carnages, text appeared on the screen, overlaying the visuals.

[Stop backseating and connect to me]

"Huh..?" Felix asked, looking around as if he could see the ghost talking to him.

[Speaking is slow. Connect to me now or I feed you to big ugly over there]

Not wanting to test Vortex's patient, First Aid reached for the neural link with trembling hands and snap it to the connector on the back of his head.

He felt like he was falling, the next second he was standing outside, face to face with the monster. A threat. A living thing waiting to be diced up. His body made of metal, his sight are not just sight but sensors and infrared and targeting module.

Killed or be kill.

His mother dragging him along as they ran for the shelter.

Scalpel making precision cut on human flesh.

Kill it before it kill you.

His hands deep in someone's torso, Pharma lecturing through the process.

Blade cutting into flesh. His hand gripping the control, forcing it to cut through the bone.

Mangled body of another pilot in the seat he had to pry off.

Tentacle with barbed tip stabbing into the cockpit, into his face.

An alien's organ kept in quarantine.

Onslaught yelling at him.

Blood in his eyes.

Pain flaring through his body

The cockpit shook violently. The monster slammed into him.

'Concentrate'

The impact pulled First Aid back to the present. Vortex's voice echoed in his head. Then he realized he was seeing memories, both his own and Vortex's.

Slowing his breath, he concentrated on the sight before him. The crabtopus monster is still there, tentacle snaking onto his -Vortex's- midsection.

He looked at the tentacle, not where it coiled, but where it came out of the body. His blade stabbed at the base of it, twisted, sliced and the tentacle came free, falling slacked from Vortex.

'You aren't half bad for a medic'

Vortex's voice in his head. He almost panic again before remembering that he was connected to Vortex and not dead. He was still capable of thoughts.

And so First Aid looked on.

The giant monster was before him, preparing to strike again. They didn't just see the enemy. But analyzing it at the same time, even as they dodged the attack and raised blades to cut with renewed surgical precision.

He was seven years old when he cried his eyes out after taking a beetle apart and realized he couldn't put them back together alive. He never wanted anything to be hurt or die.

He just wanted to know how they works. What the inside were like. He wanted to open them up. If he know how they works, surely he would know how to save them, right?

Or know how to kill them better.

The blade penetrated the seams under hard shelled armor, then pried off the shell, revealing tender flesh underneath. The monster screamed, lashing at them with tentacles. They ignored the attack, instead, Vortex stabbed at the flesh repeatedly until the monster went still.

First Aid knowledge informed Vortex's action at the speed of thought. There was no need to think. They combined mind knew how to take this thing apart effectively.

Vortex was bleeding into him. First Aid was lost in a whirlwind of violence. They tore one monster to pieces and move on, hacked the limbs off the other before stabbing it through one of the joint, deep enough that the mech's arm went inside the body and tore out god knows what from the hole.

All the ones in front of them were gone. They turned, there was another monster, half of it on fire, trying to mow down the red mech. They grabbed it, peeled it from Hot Rod's mech and slammed it to the ground. Hot Rod backed away, swaying a little on his feet.

The fire slowly died down leaving a half cooked monster, screeching, writhing fruitlessly while being pinned to the ground with Vortex's blade.

'Where's the heart?'

'I think...here...'

'Haha! look at that, you're right!'

'So that's what it looks like....'

It was still squirming. Vortex step on the head and it cracked open, green liquid splattered out.

Insects are insects. No matter the size.

You can take them apart and never have to feel guilty ever again.

+++++

"---ome in. First Aid come in. This is Hot Rod. Can you hear me?"

'why don't you answer him before I hit that guy too. He's been calling for a while' Vortex speak in his head and he came back to himself.

"oh..."

First Aid took a while to realized Hot Rod was radioing him from his mech. The fire had died down, it seems that the other mech isn't in too bad a condition.

"Hot Rod. This.....This is First Aid. I can hear you"

"How's your condition?"

"I'm...I'm alright. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. You stole my last kill."

"I...um...sorry...."

"Nah. Also, don't forget to put that down before return to base"

First Aid looked down and saw that the monster's heart was still skewered on Vortex's blade.

'Why don't we keep it as trophy'

"Where am I gonna keep it? It's the size of a fridge"

"Pardon?" Hot Rod asked. First Aid was still on the radio.

"Sorry I was talking to my self. I....I will return in a bit. First Aid out'

With the radio off, First Aid leaned back and let out a long breath.

He just realized he was sweating. His hands squeezed the control so hard that they were trembling. When he could let go, his palm sting.

Vortex put the heart down, using the other blade to nudge it off, then cleaved it in half while First Aid watched.

'You like that, hm?'

"I......well....yeah" he was going to deny it. But Vortex probably saw everything already. "I just want to know, okay?"

'Sure, First Aid, sure' He can just hear the grin in Vortex's voice inside his head. He could only shake his head at it.

On the way back, First Aid feel for the link on the back of his neck and disconnect.

[What. Leaving already?]

"...I...just need some time. That whole thing just now was...."

[That whole thing just now was good. We make such a good team]

"How was that good... My head is still spinning. And how would I know you won't melt my brain"

[Your brain is too freaky to melt. I like it a lot.]

"What do you even mean by that"

But First Aid heard a rattling sound echoing from somewhere in the mech like a deep rasping laughter.

He couldn't sleep that night.

------

Once the battlefield has gone quiet, the mechs returned and parameters secured, the science team and rescue squads are dispatched.

They passed the mechs on the way back. Vortex lagging far behind the others, covered in green blood, blades still slicked with what ever was inside the alien guts. Every step shaking the earth beneath.

"Don't you think this is creepy?"

"What?"

"The aliens... they are in pieces.....".

"Well, think on the bright side. Sample extraction is really easy now. They even cut the organs out for us." That would be true. Except for the ones that was turned into mince meat.

"That doesn't make this any less creepy"

"I heard the pilot used to be a medic. Maybe that's why he cut them like this"

"Why did a medic decided to pilot that thing?"

"Beats me. Some people were saying Vortex chose him"

"Poor guy"

--------

Also I want First Aid to interact with other pilots. Hod Rod seems fitting and he hasn't show up a lot so here he is.

[mikaxd1234]

[Tough Day At Work]

Where Vanessa comes home in a bad mood and... Well... Angry sex?

Warnings: Dark!Mean!Vanessa/Vanny. F!Reader. Sex :3. Vaginal fingering. Oral sex. Praise kink. A sprinkle of degrading? Knifes use. Idk what else to say hehe.

Edit: also, i should have said that this is the first fic i ever wrote in my life aha

(used an Amy Hughes pic in this one cuz it kinda fits and she's so pretty and hot and-)

It definetly wasn't a good day for Vanessa.

Her boss was acting like a bitch today saying something about that her work wasn't really "impressive" enough. Vanny was ready to tear his head off but, of course, Vanessa opposed to that.

That, and today's patrol was really slow and stressing since all she got to deal with was a lot of speeders here and there, and a few drunk men.

And all she wanted to do was to go home, have some dinner and then just sleep in her beloved girlfriend's arms.

But... She kinda lost all her temper today to even be kind with her girlfriend.

//

Y/N was peacefuly laying in the couch of the living room watching a movie, she wasn't really paying attention at all. Everything she could think about was her girlfriend, Vanessa, she missed her so much... I mean, yeah, she saw her this morning, but still...

Y/n and Vanessa had been dating for eight months now, they moved in together to Vanessa's place a little after the fifth month, and they were the happiest together.

To distract herself with something else, she got up to make her way to the kitchen and start making some dinner, since she already knew that Vanessa must be really hungry after her shift and it wouldn't be long before she got home.

But before she could even take a step, the front door suddenly bursted open, startling Y/N in the process.

- Holy Jesus! - Y/N gasped.

A certain blonde with her police officer suit barged into the house, muttering something to herself while closing the door with her foot as she loosened up her black tie.

- Oh! Hey Ness! How are you? - She walked up to Vanessa with a smile on her face - You're early! I was going to start dinner before you-

- You haven't started dinner yet?! - Vanessa interrupted her, her tone harsh - God, it's just ONE thing that you have to do and you haven't even started?!

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks - U-Um... Ness? - She took a little step back - W-Wha-... Are you okay...?

- I break my back out there every day only to expect, i don't know, a little plate of food and you can't even do that?! - She grabbed Y/N wrist tightly.

- A-Am... N-Ness?! - Y/N winced- What a-are you doing?! Let me g-! - She stuttered as she tried to take her arm away from Vanessa's grip.

- "Go"? No, no, no. I think this deserves a little lesson - With her free hand, she grabbed Y/N shirt and slammed her on the wall - What's your excuse to this disrespect?

- "Disrespect"? What are you even talking about?! V- - Y/N got interrupted as she got slapped on the face.

- Wrong answer, i won't ask again... - she whispered coldly, her eyes burning with anger.

Y/N started tearing up, Vanessa has never acted like this before.

- I-I don't know, I... I was just... Laying on the couch and-

- Oh, so you were just being a lazy brat while i was working? Is that your excuse? - Vanessa pushed Y/N to the wall even harder - Don't know you, but i think this is worth of a punishment.

Y/N's eyes widened as she got slammed to the wall again, the impact making her slid down to the floor as Vanessa let go of her shirt. Then she saw Vanessa walking away towards the kitchen,the opening and closing of drawers could be heard as Y/N still sat on the floor, confused and with tears on her eyes.

Then, the sound of heavy footsteps where heard when Vanessa walked back into the living room, now holding a knife.

Y/N let out a gasp and started crawling away from her until her back hit another wall.

- Now, there's no need to be scared, sweetheart - Vanessa crouched in front of Y/N and took a hold of her chin - You trust me, don't you? - She lifted Y/N's chin up slightly so they could be face to face, her face softened slightly.

Y/N hesitated fo a second, but then, she nodded. Vanessa smiles slightly and leans in, joining their lips together.

Things get heated fast as Vanessa deepens the kiss. Y/N was extremely confused and a little scared (and kinda turned on) with Vanessa's behaviour tonight.

Once they pulled apart, Vanessa's hard expresion returned as she grabbed Y/N's shirt with her free hand again and pulled her up.

- Good, now move - She pushed Y/N towards the hallway that led to their bedroom.

Once they got there, Vanessa pushed Y/N to the bed, making her fall on her face.

- U-Uhm... N-Now what...? - Y/N stuttered as she sat on her knees on the bed, now facing her girlfriend.

- Undress. Now. - Vanessa ordered, her voice still harsh.

And Y/N, as the sucker she was for the blonde, she complied. Trembling hands started to peel each layer of clothing off until she was completely naked and sitting on the bed.

- Good girl - Vanessa praised, walking up to Y/N, she stood next to the bed - Finally you did something good today...

- Van... I-I swear i didn't mean to- - she got interrupted as Vanessa's free hand came up to her throat, gripping her neck.

- Shut up... Just shut the fuck up - Vanessa pointed the knife that she held right below Y/N's chin, making her gulp.

- Now, what am i supossed to do with you? - She faked thinking as she tapped the tip of the knife on Y/N's chin - A brat who can't do a simple job... One, making dinner, and maybe cleaning up the house.

- That's two jobs- - Y/N muttered before being interrupted.

- Quiet - Vanessa snapped, tightening her grip on Y/N's neck.

- Yes, Ma'am - Y/N muttered again.

Vanessa stared at Y/N for a few seconds before pushing her to the bed, making her sit with her back on the headboard - Now i know what to do - she raised the knife, Y/N was already flinching, but then, Vanessa stabbed the knife on their mattress, the knife's handle was pointing up.

Y/N gasped, now she was definetly scared, but confused at the same time.

Vanessa grabbed Y/N by the hair on the back of her head and pulled her face to face with her, then she crashed their lips together in a messy kiss. The blonde swept the tip of her tongue on Y/N's lower lip, demanding access. Access that Y/N already eagerly provided. They both moaned as Vanessa's tongue began exploring the insides of Y/N's mouth.

Now Y/N was both scared and turned on... She even felt herself get wet with just a kiss!

Vanessa seemed to notice that as she trailed one of her hands through Y/N's body, slowly inching down. Once she got below stomach, she kept her caress feather-light. She trailed her hand slightly over Y/N's slit, making her moan softly - Wet already? Such a slut - she mumbled.

The officer pulled on Y/N's hair, forcing her to pull back - Ride It - She whispered on her ear.

Y/N was still dizzy from the kiss as she so suddenly got pulled back - Wh-Wha..?

- Ride the handle - She coldly ordered.

Y/N looked almost scared, but complied anyways. She slowly climbed on top of the handle until she was hovering it. She looked up at Vanessa, who's eyes darkened. Then she lowered herself on the knife's handle, moaning as she felt how cold it was.

- Mmm... V-Van... - She moaned as she slowly moved her hips to accomodate to the stretch.

- That's right, good girl - Vanessa cooed as she softly caressed Y/N's hair - now ride it like the slut i know you are...

Y/N nodded and slowly raised her hips, then slamming them back down, moaning loudly. Then repeating the action. She repeated this until she found a steady pace.

- Is that all you got? Come on, pretty girl, i know you can do better -Vanessa teased, her hand coming up to take a hold of Y/N's throat again - Be better for me.

Y/N moaned at that and started moving her hips faster, moaning and whining desperately as she rode the knife's handle harder. She already felt herself embarrasingly close to her climax.

- That's it, you're doing so good - She coed, her voice deep - So good for me... - Finally, Vanessa started taking a little of her clothes off, first starting with her jacket, then her tie. Then, she climbed on the bed, right in front of Y/N, placing her hands on Y/N's hips to help her with the movements.

- A-Ah... V-.. God~... Nessy! - Y/N moaned, throwing her head back.

- Now, pretty girl... - the blonde said, her voice sounding a little more glitchy now.

Y/N was too dizzy to understand anything until she felt the officer grab her from the hips and lift her from the knife's handle and shove her to lay on the bed.

Y/N saw the blonde crawl in between her legs before she dove into her cunt, licking and sucking her whole. She moaned and gripped the sheets.

The officer grabbed the now wet and kinda sticky handle and raised it off the mattress. Then she slowly trailed the tip of the knife through Y/N legs and stopped in her left thigh. And in a swift motion she passed the knife on her inner tigh, making a noticeable cut, then leaving the knife next to them. Y/N yelped at the sudden pain.

- A-Agh! Vanessa?! W-What are you doing?! - Y/N screamed out, the blonde still licking her up, and feeling the blood of the cut trail down to the sheets.

- Oh... Vanessa would be sooooo mad~ - the blonde said with a more noticeable glitchy voice before laughing maniacally and then diving right back in, Y/N's mind finally clicked.

Y/N moaned softly before she said - V-Vanny?! B-But i thought-!

- That I was Vanessa? - She chuckled - Oh no, dear. Vanessa was too tired to even drive the way home... Poor her if she saw this...

- I- B-But how did you...? - Y/N stuttered, now being embarrased at the situation and closed her legs slightly.

- Imitate her voice? I learnt to do that - Vanny smirked - Now shut up and spread your legs for me, bunny~

Y/N hesitated, but then nodded and spread her legs again.

- You know what i want to hear, my dear bunny~ - Vanny teased.

- I-I'm all yours... - Y/N stuttered softly, her hands ready to grip the sheets.

- Good girl~ - She cooed before diving into Y/N's cunt again, lapping her up and massaging the cut on her thigh.

Y/N moaned and threw her head back, feeling the last almost-climax build up again.

Vanny seemed to notice that and started moving her tongue faster on Y/N's clit - O-Oh... Mhmm... V-Vanny! - She moaned. Vanny decided to sped up things even more and put two fingers inside Y/N, curling and scissoring them inside her.

- Doing so good for me, Bunny - Vanny coed with her glitchy voice, speeding up the motion of her fingers and tongue - Come on, Come for me, pretty girl~.

Y/N moaned one last time before closing her eyes crying out as she felt her climax explode, feeling herself squirt right on Vanny's tongue and fingers. Vanny let her ride her high until she finally her motions stopped.

Y/N panted as she tried to recover, she opened her eyes and saw Vanny crawl on top of her.

- H-Hey you... - she panted as one of her hands went to Vanny's face to caress her cheek.

- Not bad, i'm proud of you, baby - Vanny giggled before leaning in to press her lips on Y/N's, caressing the cut on her leg again.

They kissed for a little while before Y/N suddenly felt Vanny lay completely on top of her, as if she passed out.

Y/N sighed in relief since this meant that Vanessa was finally coming back.

A few minutes passed before she felt the blonde stir and groan slightly.

- Vanessa...? - Y/N muttered softly.

- Y-Y/N...? - Vanessa mumbled, her voice deep as if she just woke up from a nap.

Y/N sighed again and smiled - Ah... Finally... There's my girl...

Vanessa suddenly tensed up and lifted her head up, now noticing the weir position they were in - W-What the...? - She then sat up in between Y/N's legs and also noticed the cut in Y/N's tighs - Oh my god... Y/N, Y-You're okay?! Fuck... Um... What happened?! - She panicked.

- Hey, Hey! Easy! Easy! I'm fine, i swear! - Y/N giggled slightly.

- No, you're not! You're bleeding! Fuck... What did she do to you...? - She muttered as she got closer to her thigh to examinate the cut - Fuck, it's nasty...

- First of all, come here - Y/N extended her arms towards Vanessa.

Vanessa smiled slightly and laid on top of her again, hugging her tightly.

- Secondly, well, she... Kinda made me ride a knife's handle and... We need a new mattress... - Y/N mumbled the last part.

- She what ? - Vanessa raised her head again and looked around, finally noticing the knife next to them in the bed. Y/N smiled innocently - Well, i think it's a little unfair that she got to see you like that and not me... So i might have to do it again... - She grabbed the knife and felt how the handle was sticky - How does that sounds, pretty girl ? I promise to patch you up later - she teased as her eyes got darker.

- Please, make me yours... - Y/N looked at her as her own eyes darkened too.

Vanessa chuckled slightly as she put the knife's blade on the hole that was already done on the mattress - God... I love you... - she sighed softly.

- What? - Y/N raised an eye brow teasingly.

- I love you - Vanessa repeated, sighing.

- Say it again?

- I said i love you, dumbass, now get on that thing and ride it like the brat you are, you won't get a chance to rest tonight.

- O-Oh... Yes ma'am... And i love you, too...

It was definetly going to be a long night...

The End :3

God, this sucks like hell. Definetly the first and probably the last time i'll ever write stuff like this.

Anyways, sorry if u don't understand something, english is not my first lenguage.

[honeysghost]

Warm Honey

Pairing: Porter/Treasure

Word count: 1,179

Porter and Treasure won the poll I put out, so here’s some mushy sick comfort featuring my favorite freaks 🖤 Up next (a lot sooner than you'd think) is Guy and Honey!

The AO3 version if you prefer: Warm Honey - honeysghost

“I’ll admit, when I decided to pay you a visit I was hoping for something… more, yes—but you’re clearly not up to the task, Treasure, and that’s not your fault.” Porter’s voice feels like honey in their ears. 

He’d dropped the usual bite in favor of something much softer after one look at them, knowing sex should be the last thing on their mind right now.

“I know, but I still feel bad. You came all this way and-”

“Treasure.” 

He places a hand on their cheek and face their head in his direction. “You are the only thing I’m concerned with right now. Whatever came before, whatever comes after, none of it matters if you aren’t in good condition.” 

They stifle a laugh at his phrasing. 

“Good condition,” they repeat, giving him a funny look. “Like I’m some worn down item at the thrift store?”

“Well, if you’re just going to make fun of me the whole time…” He makes a show of turning around, putting one foot toward the door. 

They catch his wrist with their hand, wrapping shakey fingers around him. “Stay, please.”

It’s not often Porter finds himself unable to ascribe words to a feeling, but being around Treasure seemed to elicit that response more and more. It’s odd, he thinks, being wanted the way they want him. It’s not sexual—at least not all the time. 

They want him simply because his presence brings them comfort. 

The strangeness of it all isn’t lost on Treasure, either. They found it just as weird to seek comfort in him, safety, warmth. This man, this decades old vampire—who kicked off their… whatever you could call this by telling them they had shit friends and asking to drink from them in some piss-soaked alley only 20 minutes after first meeting.

He was even an assassin of sorts. No one in their right mind would see all those bloodstained red flags and still jump into bed with him at any given chance.

His hands find their shoulders, spinning them around to walk down the hall, leading them toward their bedroom.

“We always end up back here,” they remark, smiling to themselves at the thought of having him in their bed again. 

It had been too long since the last time—which was half the reason they’d been so eager to have him, despite being sick. 

Every inch of their body craved his touch.

“You’re trouble,” Porter chides, fighting a smile of his own as the memories of all their late night dalliances surface in his mind.

When they’re settled into their bed, he heads back to the kitchen in search of tea. It wasn’t so irregular for them to start an evening slow, often finding Treasure cooking something whenever he comes over. 

They’d chat idly about their days until their plates were cleared, make tea afterward to relax just a little before getting on with their more… aerobic activities. It was an easy sort of routine they’d found themselves settling into.

When Porter arrives in the bedroom again, their favorite mug in hand, Treasure looks paler than they were when he left. He sets the tea down on the nightstand and presses his hand to their forehead.

It feels like heaven, Treasure thinks. They can’t help but lean into the touch, his cold skin soothing their feverish head. When he pulls away, they let out a small whine, reaching for him again.

At this, he laughs. He’d gotten used to them being a little needy, but that was usually reserved for after they were finished exhausting each other. 

“I made you tea.” He settles into the bed beside them, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and sighing contentedly when they lean into him further, nuzzling into his neck. 

“What kind?”

“The kind that’s good for you,” Porter sighs, pushing their head back and picking the mug up again, bringing it to their lips.

They make a face when they taste it, scrunching up their nose at the amount of honey he’d put in it. “Too sweet,” they whine.

He scoffs, taking a sip for himself. 

“It tastes fine, darling. You’re being dramatic—honey is good when you’re sick.” 

They mime gagging, fighting a smile when he rolls his eyes at their antics.

“Hush.”

They curl up against him once more, resuming their previous position with their face buried in his neck. “You feel so good,” they mumble, breathing him in.

“You’re delirious,” he smiles, brushing off the compliment.

Treasure focuses on the steady beating of Porter’s heart, letting the sound lull them into a calm state.

If they had the energy, they would think about how easy it was to relax when he held them. A hand on their hip, the sound of his breathing, the way he would kiss the top of their head when they were quiet for too long—it was his way of reminding them he was there, that he wasn’t going to just take what he came for and leave, he would stick around a while longer.

“I really am sorry,” they sigh, lifting their head to meet his gaze. “I should’ve told you I was sick, and you didn’t need to come over.”

Porter looks them over for a moment, his brows quirked like he doesn’t understand why they keep apologizing.

“I told you, darling, it’s no bother.”

Treasure nods, not quite satisfied or rid of guilt, but tired enough to let it go.

“Will you stay the whole night? It’s silly, but I feel better knowing you’re here… just in case I get worse or something.”

Or something… If he picked up on their meaning, he didn’t comment on it, instead just agreeing to stay—something Treasure was immensely grateful for.

There were going to be other times much more suited for a proper feelings talk. Neither of them seemed ready for that, anyway. They would much rather settle for the strange kind of uncommitted-commitment they had going on.

“If I knew enough about healing magic, I would offer to speed up your recovery.”

Treasure hums sleepily in response, questions about magic running through their head that they file away for later. “That’s alright, this is enough.” 

Porter lets out a breathy laugh. “This? Me holding you? That’s all it takes, is it?”

They close their eyes, readjusting into a more comfortable position, throwing one leg over Porter’s. “Must be the magic.” 

“Hm. Must be.”

The overwhelming amount of heat radiating off their body makes Porter wiggle around until half his body is outside the blankets in an attempt to regulate his own body temperature. 

He runs a hand through their hair, ignoring the flutter in his chest when they let out a soft moan at the touch.

“Do you want me to put you to sleep?”

“Like a toddler?”

Another laugh. “No, Treasure. With magic.”

“Oh, no. 'M sleepy enough already.” 

Porter presses a kiss to their hair, and another to their temple, before closing his own eyes and waiting for their breath to even out.

“Sleep well, darling.”