#he's such an upright man I can't imagine how hard it is for him

[megaclubdiolis]

柄本 佑 || 「光る君へ」 (2024) · 第四十回 「君を置きて」 ​​​​​​

[writersdrug]

Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)

Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism

But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"

Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?

Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.

Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.

After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.

"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.

Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.

"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"

Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.

"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"

"Simon!!"

Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?

You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."

Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.

"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.

He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.

"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."

Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.

"You can take it off." You whisper.

He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.

He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.

He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.

His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"

You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.

"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.

You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.

He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"

He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.

“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“

“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”

The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.

“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.

“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.

“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”

Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.

“Yes sir.”

Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.

“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”

[bandgie]

More Please | Armageddon Event

Request: Greed | Christopher Bahng-Chan by anon song!

warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, exhibitionism!, pussy play, fingering, oral mentions (f!), sex flashbacks, double date w/ Changlix, piv mentions

notes! this song better be released because wtf? he can't drop that and dip

When his hand rests on your knee, you don’t overthink it. Chan is a physical lover in every sense. He needs you next to him. Close to him. He just has to know that you’re here, real, and safe.

But when his fingers trail to your lower thigh, you raise an eyebrow.

A silent question since you two are on a double date. Changbin and Felix love telling the story of how they met. Well, Felix does. Changbin only blushes and says ‘it didn’t happen like that’ more times than once. Perhaps Chan is invested in this new version of the story because he doesn’t seem to notice how you glance at him.

Whatever, you’re thinking too much. Chan got more than enough loving before you two left for dinner. The dress, your boyfriend claims, is all to blame. The way it accentuates your hips and makes the top of your breasts pop is sublime.

Sure, it’s cute. A simple floral gown that Chan tied and untied more times than you can count while getting ready. You had to cover the fresh bruises on your neck with so much concealer you think Felix can figure out why that specific spot is so yellow.

But it doesn't matter too much. You don’t regret being a few minutes late in the slightest. Chan is hardly the type for a quickie, so sex with him is always intense. It was only half an hour ago that the hair he styled for tonight was messy from your pulling. The shade of your lipstick was smeared on your face and his own. You doubt there was enough time to clean the pecks you left on his thighs.

And when he was between your legs, you were sure the dress he claimed was so pretty would get ruined. But Chan still insisted on keeping it on, opting to eat your cunt from under the material.

I’ll be careful.

You look down at your thighs upon the memory. You could see it now if you tried, the bobbing of his head making the fabric bounce. Something was alluring about seeing him, but not quite. The fact that you could hear and feel his mouth sucking only heightened the pleasure. You didn’t know what he was going to do next and you were more than eager to find out.

“Ya! Yongbok, you’re embarrassing me!” Changbin’s voice booms in the restaurant. His volume is something you four have grown accustomed to, but with your imagination running wild, you couldn’t help but jump.

Felix smiles, all teeth and pride. “That’s what I love about you though! It’s okay that you’re allergic to wood.”

You smile with them, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Not when all you think about is how Chan’s fingers are creeping between your legs and making your thighs tense.

And this time when you do look at him, he looks back. “You okay?” His eyes have a certain gleam in them. “You look like you’re thinking about something.”

That little shit. He is doing this on purpose.

“Nothing.” You can play his little game. “Nothing at all.”

His smirk tells you that he catches on. “Hm. I just couldn’t help but notice that you looked…deep in thought.”

Chan squeezes your thigh. Not hard in the slightest, but possessively. The same way he grips your legs when they’re over his shoulders. When he has to find leverage being on top, fingers digging into the underside of your thighs to keep you still and him upright.

“Ooo, I thought so too.” Felix's wide eyes blink innocently. “I thought you were being quiet. What’s on your mind, babe? Is Channie-hyung bothering you?”

Babe. Chan called you babe not too long ago.

His mouth was latched onto your pussy so good the slick started to run down his chin. He was eating like a starved man, greedy for more and more until you were shaking and oozing cum. Chan swallowed everything you gave him, gulping and licking his lips whenever he pulled away to catch his breath. You can still picture the messy curls from under your dress and how his eyes peeked over the material almost in a frenzy.

Fuck, babe, you taste so good.

Clearing your throat is the only way to make the memories fizzle into nothing but the arousal in your stomach. “When isn’t he bothering me? I don’t know how I’ve managed to put up with him for so long.”

Changbin laughs. Both at your words and Chan’s blushing face. Felix only agrees, stating how bothersome your lover used to be back in pre-debut days. 

“Ah, but you like it when I’m annoying, don’t you, baby?” Chan’s ears twinge with red, but his fluster doesn’t stop his fingers from prying your legs and finally finding the space he’s been aiming for. “You like it enough to stay with me, hm?”

His touches are soft on your cunt. The tips of his fingers brushing against your clit so sweetly it almost feels like a massage.

The buzz in your pussy spreads throughout your body. It’s warm and comforting, and all you can reply is, “Whatever.”

The conversation stirs to Changbin talking about a track he’s making; asking his hyung for advice on mixing and sampling. Chan answers as though he’s not playing with your folds through your underwear.

It was easy enough to listen in the beginning. All you had to do was nod and hum in agreement, but when Chan’s fingers prodded your clit and your clit only, you jolted.

No one seemed to notice. Felix was too entranced in his boyfriend to see how your jaw had slacked open and your eyes nearly crossed from Chan’s fingers.

And when he slid down, he could feel how wet you were getting through your panties. Chan could only imagine how swollen your cunt is from his lips, fingers, and cock. Neither of you thought there’d be enough juice left to get horny, but the slick on his fingers and your underwear shows how possible that is.

The pads of Chan’s fingers rub slow circles on your entrance. It leaves his digits warm and a little wet, and he uses that to trail back up to play with the peak of your clit. If you focus hard enough, you could make out the soft sounds of squishing and slicking from your pussy.

It’s barely audible, but Changbin’s booming voice easily overshadows it. 

Breathe. You have to remind yourself to breathe. Your moans force themselves into quiet puffs of air. Maybe to the couple across, it just looks like you’re catching your breath from eating, but everything feels so obvious. From the licking of your lips to the slight movement in Chan’s shoulder, you think Felix and Changbin have to know what’s happening under the table.

Then your boyfriend adjusts in his seat. You envision his fingers slipping away for a moment, but the exact opposite happens. Chan uses the movement to his advantage, making the slide into your underwear unbelievably smooth.

And gosh, his fingers are even warmer like this. You thought they’d be cold from the air, but being attached to your cunt even with the panties in the way kept them hot. The ridges of his knuckles glide perfectly over your clit and you can’t help the way your hips buck.

“Fuck! I-sorry.” They’re looking at you. Their eyes feel heavy - watchful. You look to Chan for help, but he only has a clueless look in his eyes that makes you want to strangle him. “I thought I felt something crawl on my leg.”

Changbin pales. “Don’t say that! Are you serious?”

You shake your head. “It was just my-” Chan slips a finger in, deep, thick, and welcomed. You suck in a sharp breath. “My imagination. Sorry.”

“Here. I’ll check.” Chan lifts the tablecloth. You have to pinch your lips together from gasping, pretending that Chan’s finger isn’t digging into your cunt for a waiter who decides to check in on your four to see.

He hums, fully acting as if he’s thoroughly searching.

Then a second finger finds its way inside. He even goes as far as to lean down, pretending to look under the table when you feel a string of warm saliva hit your cunt.

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

And his fingers are doing the same. They barely thrust to not make it obvious, but it so is. How can he possibly be hungry for more when he was just-

“Nope. I don’t see anything.” Chan’s face is red. You know his friends will write it off from being upside down, but you know the blood rushing to his face is the same reason his cock is straining uncomfortably in his jeans.

“I think my jagiya is getting tired. Should we go home soon?”

It doesn’t matter how good his fingers hit your sensitive spot. How the hard part of his palm rubs just perfectly on your clit. You won’t ever give him the satisfaction.“I don’t know. I think I’m feeling wide awake.”

The smile on his face says it all. You’re definitely getting it rough tonight.

Again.

“Yeah. You know what? I do need to finish that stupid album.” Changbin groans in annoyance. “I really wanted to have seconds too.”

Felix giggles at his lover - praising him for eating so well when you’re the one that’s stuffed to the brim. Chan nods, “Yeah, that sounds good. Plus, I think we have dessert at the house, right baby? You want a little more?”

Little shit. He hardly uses his flirty voice, but it makes you clench around him anyway.

You suppose you’ll let him indulge in you a bit longer. “Please.”

[quirrrky]

—•✦ STUPID CUPID! 

BOKUTO's got it all, but while all his friends have special someone in their lives, all thanks to him, he was left single and alone until that one accidental night ��˚꒰happy birthday, bokuto!! 🥳꒱༘⋆

3k+ f!reader, accidental marriage, suggestive

Bokuto “The Volleyball Hero” was the center of MSBY Jackals. He got special interviews, merch of his own and even a vlog series for god’s sakes. He seemed like he’s the most fortunate among the members, but little to what the outsiders know, he was the most envious. 

“I hope you both fulfill the love, family and happiness you're dreaming of,” Kenma called for a toast for his newly wed best friend and his wife. 

Everyone around Bokuto was getting married, engaged or partnered up.

Let’s not go anywhere far. Just take Kuroo right there who was so busy sneaking kisses from his bride from time to time.  

Not long ago, he was single as a pringle like Bokuto too. Man had casual to shallow relationships but nothing’s ever going anywhere, until that day Bokuto brought him as a plus-one at a wedding. Kuroo hit it off with another plus-one who’s not even related to the couple. It was love at first sight according to him, and now, he’s the one getting married.  

Bokuto was left single.  

He took a deep breath and saw his kouhai, Akaashi. Since he had been an athlete, he seemed to see his junior less. Excitement brewed inside him only to turn cold right away as he watched one of MSBY’s road managers lace her fingers with Akaashi’s. Yeah, it was all because of Bokuto’s meddling as well.  

Akaashi was an editor of a Volleyball-centric manga and he needed Bokuto’s insights back then and so Bokuto gave one of MSBY’s road managers as contact person to communicate with Akaashi. Now, they were set to get married next year too. 

A long sigh escaped through him. Everywhere he looked, everyone was happily in the arms of another. He slumped his shoulders. What’s so good about romance and relationships anyway? It’s not as if it’s as fun as Volleyball.  

He pouted.  

Bokuto was jealous, seething envious.  

He wanted someone to give him a loooong kiss after winning a match just like Atsumu and his fiance. He imagined someone would call him long-distance whenever he’s away like how his pretty manager would do for Akaashi. He would very much love to look at someone and laugh with her like the world only belongs to the two of them just as how much Kuroo was having the time of his life right now with the love of his life. 

All of them happened because of him yet he was left all by himself.  

Tears triggered to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed every drop of them in. He was genuinely happy for his friends, and he wished, with all his heart, that their relationships would be successful and fulfilling.  

Perhaps, he’s lucky in Volleyball but totally sucks in love. This is life. You can't have it all. So he won’t. That simple.  

All night long, Bokuto partied like an animal he never was. He drank all the hard liquor together with the bitter truth that he’s the fun single uncle his nephews and nieces would love to play with.  

“Bokuto-san, you've had enough! That’s- that’s too much!” He heard Akaashi called out to him, but he didn’t care.  

Curse all the gods! All this time he was playing cupid to all his friends and now he’s the one without anyone.  

“F@#k you!” He shouted to the heavens. Big F to that dumbass Cupid! He had been doing that loser’s job all along yet he ain’t having any reward. Asshole better train. He’d been missing his arrows when it came to him. “Aaarghh! Fu-” 

Bokuto clasped on his chest. A strong sting came right through and, all of a sudden, he bumped onto someone. He looked back and a shroud of white flooded his vision.  

Is he dead? 

But how can he hear birds chirping?  

Are there birds in heaven?  

Well, there can’t be any in hell so he’s lucky he’s in heaven.  

Bokuto opened his eyes as he slowly brought himself to sit upright. He rubbed the sleep off and took in his surroundings. Fancy room. He thought. Was this his apartment in heaven? 

He glanced at his side, and he marveled at the ethereal being he saw. Must be an angel. A smile appeared across his face. He’s so lucky to wake up next to an angel, indeed. Itching, he poked a finger on her cheek.  

Her eyes gradually opened, and he sure heard a chorus sang in his ears by how beautiful she was. She got up, wearing a large white tee, which looked immaculate on her by the way. She didn’t need wings to fly. She had already taken flight in Bokuto’s head.  

Wait! Was this even true? You blinked twice. Thrice. Four times.

"B-Bokuto..." Your eyes widened. He’s shirtless, looking so hot this early in the morning beside you in bed... 

Last night... 

You inspected your clothing which gave out every sign of intimacy and if you were right...

"Y/N!" It finally registered in his head! He's still alive and it was you? He studied you closely, taking in your swollen lips, flushed cheeks and beautifully disarrayed hair. You're lovely. You're still an angel regardless if he's just dreaming.

Who thought you were this pretty all along! Bokuto's the type of guy who could never take a hint unless you initiate and you...You never initiate nor flirt with him obviously that's why he'd never really see, consider you in that way.

Maybe it wasn't Cupid's fault, it's his. An angel was just around him but he always failed to notice.

Gulping the thick lump in your throat, if you would remember correctly...

You turned to the bedside table on your left. Surprise coloring your expression as you take the paper on the table. 

It was a dream. It was a dream. It was a dream.  

But no. 

Bokuto took a long read at the paper you were holding.  “W-Wait- We are...” 

“Yes.” 

You were, indeed, married to Bokuto Koutaro.  

One of the guests at Kuroo’s wedding was a government employee, who had the authority to officiate a marriage with just a stamp and now... 

“Semi!” Bokuto proclaimed. “It’s him! What happened?” he asked. “How?” 

You blushed. You’d rather not recall what happened last night which was a bit clear for you unlike Bokuto who was totally clueless. You snuck a glance at him. He’s so comfortable in his own skin, attractive mire than he knows it, and you were flustered, seeing him half uncovered.  

“I-I-I guess we better get dressed first!” 

“Oh! Yeah!” He agreed and stood up. The blanket slipped off his body completely, unraveling what’s left unraveled that had your eyes popping at the sight in front of you. “I’m sorry! I'm sorry!” 

You turned away red-faced. 

You were the content creator especially assigned by the JVA to Bokuto. Since he had a strong clout and they can utilize it to promote volleyball, he had exclusive interviews and vlog series, which were something you were doing for him.

You probably know Bokuto more than himself by now with all the research you've done about him and with all the time you spent with each other.

Since you were assigned to him, your career was centered around him, which was your entire life right now. You would be lying if you'd say you didn't find him attractive at all. You may have quite a soft spot for him you kept on burying to death, keeping things professional between you two until last night. If there's something aside from volleyball he's a pro at it's definitely...

You shook your head. You shouldn't be thinking these things.

Once dressed, you both decided to seek Kuroo's help. After all, the newly kept hinself sober last night.

“So we got married at the same day, huh?” Kuroo told Bokuto while waiting for Semi on the phone. The two of them talked over the guy in question to seek for a solution.

Apparently, according to Semi, divorce was the easiest method since annulment would be pricier. 

“He said we have to divorce,” Bokuto informed you. Now, this part came with a little bit of disappointment for him. “The papers will come in a month or few.” 

He was lowkey sad. He got his chance for a love life only to be taken away in a snap.

"No worries," you said. "I can wait."

Somehow, you shared the same sentiments as him. Despite your close relationship professionally, you'd want to get to know him more...personally—not as an athlete, but as an individual.

You were about to exit the hotel but a small commotion suddenly made its way towards you.

The reporters and vloggers were quick to pick up on the news, and as soon as someone saw you both together, they all approached with questions.

Bokuto couldn’t lie as he was actually proud and happy to have you, while you were worried that your accidental marriage might affect his image and sponsorship.  

You tightly held onto his hand and looked at him. He leaned down and you whispered. “I can be your wife.” His eyes grew in surprise. “For a while.”  

An ecstatic grin appeared on his face. Who would’ve thought he’d be so lucky? He got an angel as his wife, though he felt so stupid not to realize how good of a match you two would make until something unforeseenike this would happen.

Bokuto's quick to pull you close to him and he proudly announced that he’s officially a married man. You couldn’t help but feel the same happiness he was radiating. You giggled just watching him. He glanced back at you, eyes watering with gratitude. 

“You’re the best!” 

Sure, he already said that to you a hundred of times, but there's something about the way he said it this time that made it different.

•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•

You both agreed to live together in the meantime since people’s noses would be up his business. Also, soon, he’d be away for overseas training so it wouldn't be much of a big deal.  

Bokuto took his role as a husband very seriously though. He’d welcome you with a big tight hug whenever he’d come home from practice. After all, you have already done more than that the very first time you got re-acquainted.  

You’d spend the rest of the day eating and doing chores together. Some nights, you’d be playing card games and watching movies together just like two best friends, enjoying each other’s company in cold nights. 

“There you go! Catch him! Go!” Bokuto screamed at the TV.  

“Uhm...I think that’s the killer though,” you pointed out. “He’s chasing after the victim.” 

Bokuto stopped, stupefied. Damn! How could he look so much like a loser in front of you. You just laughed at him. It was not mocking, rather it was very endearing. Just watching you laugh sort of made him much bubblier too.  

Silly! He was so silly. He laughed at himself and you both shared that small but warm moment. It felt so good he didn’t want it to end. 

Aaaargh! He was truly an idiot for realizing that you were there right beside him all along and he kept his sights to non-sense pursuits. It didn't matter now what mattered the most was he got you right with him at this very moment.

Days turned into a week and it’s time for his overseas training. Bokuto felt a little off. Everybody could tell that he wasn't his usual chirpy self. He got so used to being around you that not having you in a day made him lose all balance in spirits. A pout never left his face the entire flight.  

They took a break from practice and his teammates were teasing each other when his phone rang. Lazily, he looked into it and his face lit up when he saw it was you.  

“Y/N! It’s youuu!” He exclaimed with enthusiasm. “You called!” 

“Of course,” you said. “You were away so I thought I might check up on you.” 

Timezones had it. It was during this time when you’d both watch your favorite show together, so it reminded you of him. And...maybe a day without him was something so new now for you.  

His smile stretched from ear to ear. “I never thought you would! It’s great to hear your voice.” 

You giggled from the other line.  

“Me too.” 

“Will you call me tomorrow before the game too?” His tone was almost pleading. 

“Sure,” you said, rolling all over the bed like a giddy high school girl.  

“Yes! How ‘bout even after the game? Then the next day?”  

“I would. Everyday.” 

Atsumu quirked up an eyebrow, watching Bokuto go from zero to a hundred. Just what kind of vitamins did he take just now to be so bolstered up at an instant like that.  

“What’s with him?” The blonde asked his teammates. 

Hinata scooted close to Atsumu and whispered like a gossiping old lady. “Y/N...” 

“Ohhhh...” Tsumu reacted as they talked about Bokuto and his express wedding setup, but the person in topic had all his ears on you over the phone.  

Distance didn't matter between the two of you. He enjoyed listening and talking to you over the phone. It also made coming home more exciting. He never felt this way before.  

“Y/N!” Bokuto announced, arriving home. You turned in anticipation and he copped you in his arms and twirled you around like a Disney princess.  

You were in a fit of laughter and he simply found joy in your happiness.  

“Miss you so much!” He hugged you super tight, rubbing his cheek against yours. 

“Me too! Me too! I stopped watching the series because I’m waiting for you.” 

“Oh, Y/N!” he exclaimed then remembered, “I smelled like airplane! I better take a bath first before we get back to episode 7.” 

You laughed and he headed off to the bathroom, while you set aside his luggage and kept some of his stuff.   

“Y/N! My angel!” he called from inside the bathroom and you covered your face. He was always so cheesy like that even if it’s just you two and you’re still not used to it. “I forgot to bring my towel with me.” 

You grabbed his towel and knocked on the door. He partially opened the door, showing you a glimpse of his well-toned abs and a slight peek at his bare pelvis and legs. You reached the towel to him not looking at back at his direction.  

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked, curiously. 

“Y-Yes,” you admitted, flushed to the neck. “Are you not?” 

“Why would I?” Bokuto wrapped the towel around his waist. “I believe I look good,” he said. “The same as you.” 

“W-What?” Your face heated up profusely.  

“I think you look good with or withou-”  

“Stop!” You ran away, diving into your bed and hiding under the blankets. You knew you couldn’t say no if he’d ever make a move. Under the context of your agreement, you were married..for a while. You also live uder one room, so the possibility of that is highly likely.  

You heard his steps getting closer. He sat beside you and lifted the blanket, revealing your bashful self underneath.  

He giggled. “You’re just so cute. Do you know that?” His face inched closer to yours. He kissed your nose and you closed your eyes. Next thing you knew, he had already captured your lips. His arms now caging you as you got lost, fallen under his spell.  

His eyes were so loving when you’re under him. Peeling you off from where you hide, his smiled like he couldn’t believe what he’s seeing. “You look so good. So good just like how I thought.” 

Right then and there, you allowed yourself to believe him and get swept away.  

•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•

Koutaro usually comes home early but he was getting home a little late recently. You were glancing at the clock when the doorbell rang and you thought it was him. He probably left his keys again. You headed towards the door and opened it. 

“Mail for Bokuto Koutaro-san,” the mail man informed and you signed the receiving form.

You read the delivery details attached on the envelope. 

From: Semi Eita 

You gasped. 

Divorce papers. You knew this would be the divorce papers you and Koutarou requested when you initially found out that you got married by accident.  

And you remembered that this setup was only for a while.  

Your heart ached so suddenly. You didn’t want this to end. You didn't want you and Kotarou to end. You might not start the way normal couples do, what you had for him was real. At least, for the few months you spent with each other, it seemed so real. But was it ever real for him too? 

You must’ve prepared yourself when you agreed to this arrangement. 

Tears crawled down your cheeks. You’re in love with Koutarou, but you must do the right thing.  

The door to your, no, his apartment opened. “Y/N, my angel! I’m back hooome! Where are you?” Bokuto excitedly announced, but his face dropped to be welcomed by your crestfallen face. “What happened? Why are you...” 

You wiped your tears away and forced a smile. “No, this...is just...nothing. Nothing really!”  

He sat beside you. Before he could even tease you, you handed over the envelope to him. 

You heard the material being torn open as you focused your vision to your hands on your lap.  

Several scenarios played in your head. It’s either he’d play it cool because all this time he knew what he’s singing for, and all this was just a random episode in his life—something he could easily shrug off. The other one was the probability that he loved you the same, but he wouldn’t want to ruin the agreement between you and him, so he’d gladly set you free. 

You weren’t prepared for this. Could you ask for one more night, days, weeks, months, years with him? Would he allow that? Do you really have the courage to ask that of him? But you knew your heart would be broken into shards once he rejected you.  

Your mind spiralled out of control.  

“Is this...why you’re sad, Y/N?” he asked, full of concern. You couldn’t lie about that. “Actually, I asked Semi about this. I really wanted to divorce you immediately.”  

You pinched close your eyes and gripped the fabric of your skirt. 

“But seeing that this got you sad, I guess, I better tell the truth.” He took your hand and cupped it between his. “I want us to divorce so I can do things properly.”  

You raised your head to look at him.  

He knelt down on the floor and brought your hand over his cheek.  “Oh, how could I even hurt you? It’s my fault I made you cry like this.” 

“Koutaro...” you mumbled in confusion. 

“My friends are helping me plan things. Kuroo even helped me pick, but this couldn’t wait.” Scurrying inside his pocket, he pulled out a box, flipped it open and revealed a diamond ring. “I want to marry you properly, Y/N.” 

Your tears of sadness were replaced with pleasant surprise. Your hands flew to your mouth.  

“Now, this wasn’t as grand as we are thinking of but...” His lips quivered and soon he joined you in sobbing. “I can’t afford to see you crying. I can’t break up with you, Y/N. Ilove you. You’re my angel. How can I survive knowing that I let you fly away?” 

You lovingly laughed at his signature dramatics and you knelt beside him, engulfing him in a warm embrace. “I love you, too, Koutaro.” You parted a little, looking him in the eye. “I’ll marry you.” 

He burst out in happiness as you giggled like pre-school kids encountering the magic of puppy love.  

Bokuto recalled wishing for this not a while back...To laugh like the rest of the world doesn't matter just like Kuroo and his wife back then when you two first met.  

Now, he’s got a wife too.

Maybe it wasn't Cupid who was stupid all along. Maybe it was him. The love of his life was always right in front of him yet he failed to notice.

Thanks to Cupid for doing his job at last. He finally struck an arrow to the woman Bokuto could never live without. 

@pixelcafe-network

[satansamwriting]

HC Mk characters finding gn reader sleeping in weird position/places

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Just silly little hc I wrote for fun. Might not be my best cuz I wrote those quite fast but hopefully y'all like it.

Characters : Smoke, Kitana, MK9 Kabal

Disclaimer : English ain't my native language so there might be mistakes. I apologizes for them

SMOKE/ TOMAS VRBADA

Not having heard from you in a while, smoke goes on a search around the Lin Kuei temple.

Doesn't notice you the first time he passes by you.

Has to do a double take.

When he comes back, he can believe his eyes.

You seemed to be asleep while leaning on one of the support beams of the temple

How you managed to keep yourself upright while napping is a mystery for Smoke.

Spend a short time just watching you.

Thinks you might be faking it at first but after investigating, he confirms that you are in fact napping while standing up.

Has to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from laughing.

Knows how hard you've been pushing yourself in the Lin Kuei training.

Smoke would carefully pick you up, making sure not to move you too much so you don't wake up.

Brings you to your shared rooms

Hours later, (Y/n) woke up slightly disoriented. Panic started settling in them only to melt away as quickly as it came when an arm wrapped around their stomach flexed. Following the arm with their eyes, (Y/n) smiled softly as the face of a sleeping Tomas came into view. Deciding that another hour of napping would do them good, (Y/n) repositioned themselves to face their partner and went back to sleep.

KITANA

She was on her way back to her throne when she stumbled upon your sleeping form.

The place you had chosen as your resting place was the stairs.

Kitana stared at you in disbelief.

She did find the sight quite amusing.

So did the others that went up and down the stairs.

Kitana didn't want to disturb your nap but was also worried that someone could involuntarily hurt you.

Torn between letting you sleep or waking you up, she slowly approached you.

Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the beautiful smiling face of your girlfriend.

Can't stop herself from chuckling at you as you drowsily stood up.

Will genuinely laugh when you turn to face her and there would be an imprint of the stairs on your cheeks.

You feel a bit embarrassed but Kitana reassures you that she finds it adorable.

Will guide you back to your shared room as you are still quite exhausted from running around the temple, helping wherever you can.

As they lay on their soft mattresses (Y/n) glanced over their shoulders. Kitana was leaning against the doorframe of their bedroom. “Join me?” They asked in a sleepy voice. Approaching the bed, Kitana placed a gentle kiss on her partner’s lips. “I’ll join you soon, I have important matters to take care of first.” With one last kiss, they watch her leave. In a matter of seconds, they were back in sleep’s embrace. Hours later, Kitana would keep her promise and join them.

MK9 KABAL

The man would stumble upon you by accident.

Has to process what he's seeing to fully understand it.

You were half hunching over one of the special force vehicles, your head resting on your arms like a makeshift pillow.

Kabal can’t imagine how you’d be able to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable position.

Unless you were extremely exhausted.

Which he believed you were considering you didn’t even react to him gently shaking your shoulder.

Does consider leaving you there.

But decides otherwise since he knows how bad the stiffness is going to be once you wake up.

Uses his speed to bring you to your shared room and tuck you into bed.

Will tease you about this when he sees you again.

Massaging their stiff neck, (Y/n) walked inside the meeting tent. Kabal was already there, discussing strategies with Sonya Blade. Upon hearing someone approach, Kabal glanced their way.

“ Morning sleepy head.”

The meeting would pass in a blur and throughout it, (y/n) could somehow feel Kabal grinning at them behind his mask. As the meeting came to an end, (y/n) approached the man puzzled.

“Any reason why you’ve been grinning at me the whole meeting?”

Later on, they would regret asking this particular question.

“You weren’t in bed when I found you sleeping yesterday.”

In thus begin the incessant teasing from Kabal whenever he would find you near a vehicle. What he would never tell you was that in truth he was only worried about you. Seeing you this exhausted made him think how poorly you’ve treated your sleep schedule. Kabal would go out of his way to make sure you were sleeping properly and in a bed.   

[starryeyedjanai]

tell me (everything will be alright)

steddie | 814 words | cw: drugs

Steve doesn’t pretend to know what Eddie gets up to in his spare time. He imagines he probably smokes a lot of weed, maybe dabbles in some of the harder stuff he sells from time to time.

So he’s utterly taken aback when Eddie calls him freaking out about a bad trip, asking if he’ll come over and babysit him because he, “Took something, Steve. Please, just get over here.”

He’s even more surprised when he’s sitting on the Munson couch and asks Eddie what he took that he needs babysitting for and Eddie won’t give him a straight answer.

“I’ve just, I’ve never taken it before, so I didn't know how I’d react,” Eddie says, and Steve is concerned.

Mushrooms? LSD? PCP? Are those two the same thing? Steve is not knowledgeable enough to babysit someone as they trip; he’s totally gonna screw this up.

Eddie turns to him with wide eyes and says, “I feel crazy, man. Like, I’m seein’ shit.”

“Like hallucinating?” Steve asks, running a stressed hand through his hair. He is not equipped to deal with this. “I need you to tell me what you took, man. I need to know what I’m dealing with here.”

Eddie shakes his head, says, “It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“I promise I won't make fun of you. Please just tell me,” Steve asks, begs really, because this is starting to scare him.

Eddie grumbles and groans, but eventually says, “It’s on the counter,” with a frown.

Steve scrambles to get up and look. He looks on the counter and - he doesn't find anything. He sees leftovers, he sees a bottle of Benadryl, he sees random pieces of mail. He does not see drugs that would require someone to babysit Eddie while he trips.

“Eddie, I don't see- is it on the bathroom counter? I need to know what you took.” He turns around and sees Eddie listing sideways on the couch, like he’s fading fast. “Fuck,” Steve whispers, sprinting back over to the couch.

He kneels in front of Eddie and sits him upright again.

He’s not freaking out. He’s just going to be so, so calm about this. “Eddie,” he says, voice measured. “I need to know what you took so I can help you. I can't help if I don't know what I’m dealing with.”

Eddie looks at him through squinted eyes. “’told you it’s on the counter.”

“I didn't see anything on the counter,” he says, trying not to snap.

“It’s the-“ Eddie breathes deep through his nose. “It’s the goddamn Benadryl. Took two of those motherfuckers and now I’m so, so dizzy, Stevie.” He doesn't slur the words, but it's a close thing.

Steve stares at him. Breathes out deep and just stares for a minute. His lips twitch.

Eddie purses his lips. “You’re making fun of me in your head. I can tell!”

“Ed,” he tries saying, but a laugh bubbles up in his throat and he has to stop and throw a hand over his mouth to contain it.

“Steeeeeve,” Eddie whines, frowning, pathetic.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve says, pulling himself together. “You’re right. This is serious. You took two Benadryl.”

“I took two Benadryl,” Eddie repeats. He yawns, his jaw cracking.

Steve doesn't laugh. He tries to not even smile, but it’s so hard with Eddie looking at him with such sad eyes.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he says, pulling himself up and plopping down on the couch next to Eddie.

“How do you know that? I’m still dizzy,” Eddie says.

“I think you just, you got yourself a little worked up, is all.” He puts an arm around Eddie, guiding him to rest his head in Steve's lap. “As soon as you relax, you’ll fall right asleep. And I’ll be here the entire time.”

“You won't leave? You’re sure? You’ll stay the whole time?” Eddie asks.

“I won't leave,” he says, brushing a hand through Eddie’s hair.

“Oh,” Eddie says, when Steve’s hands continue to play with his hair. “This is nice,” he says through a yawn.

“See?” Steve says. “You’ll be asleep in just a minute and everything will be fine.”

“You won't let the demons get me?” Eddie asks nonsensically, voice slurring with how to close to sleep he is.

“I won't let any demons get to you. I’ll fight them off,” he says, smiling down at Eddie.

“You’ll protect me?” he asks. And-

And something funny happens in Steve’s chest, like his heart skips a beat or something.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll protect you. I’ll always protect you.”

Eddie sighs and says, “Yeah, I know you will.”

And that feeling is still there as Eddie’s breathing evens out. Steve keeps his hand in Eddie’s hair, succumbing to the fact that he’s stuck here until Eddie wakes up.

He thinks there are worse places he could be.

[partycatty]

babe like your bratty johnny cage is um, wow holy fuck. But BUT LIKE WHAT ABOUT MORe WHINY JOHNNY.

But its like the first time he's ever whined during sex, this is new for him and you

Like imagine waking up in the morning, he's all sweet cause he's just woken up he's still tired and he's touchy, yall are making out, he's taking whatever clothes you have left on off and his aswell, he's surprisingly rough but sweet at the same time, you get caught up in how he's making you feel and your just pulling on his hair. Hard. And he just whines the loudest whine you've ever heard, but its like the hottest thing ever, he gets embarrassed but he's still fucking you, he gets shy he tells you that's the first time hes ever made that kind of noise, so just keep running your hand through his hair and pulling at it, now he's just whimpering and whining. I FUCKING NEED THIS MAN. THIS MOTHERFUCKER.

THIS ASK IS HAUNTING ME /POS I NEED TO WRITE THIS RQ

johnny cage > that was new

warnings: smuddy :3 and also kinda short :(

notes: i love my men PATHETIC and WHINY and BRATTY UGHHH im so fucking happy everyone understands hes a bottom bitch at times

[ masterlist ]

• johnny is the epitome of "anytime, anywhere," so it doesn't come as a surprise to you when he's sleepily bucking into you, his pajama pants doing little to hide how needy he was at the asscrack of dawn.

• you feel his form against your ass only concealed by underwear, with johnny's hand snaking underneath your baggy t-shirt (which just so happens to be his).

• "well, good morning to you too," you sleepily giggle, and johnny can only mumble incoherently before he crawls on top of you, latching his lips onto yours as his hips continue to try and seek relief from his aching morning wood against the fabric of your panties.

• it's not long before your shirt is pulled up and his bottoms are hanging off of the edge of the bed, and he's rocking into you steadily. you're both too tired to probably moan, just letting out little grunts and gasps with each thrust.

• your legs wrap around his middle, pulling him in to sloppily kiss. his hands trail down your bare sides, nearly falling on top of you from how much effort it takes to keep himself upright. it's not that sex is boring, it's just that he's too tired to be his fully dominant self.

• it didn't bother you much, considering you were too caught up in enjoying how much he filled you and pleased you just right. your hands wandered to his hair, massaging his scalp as your foreheads touch. it was sweet, it was loving and it showed that there was care in every gesture exchanged.

• johnny hit a sweet spot inside of you, making your back arch. your fingers instinctively tugged on his hair, and in response, you hear a long, needy whine escape from johnny's lips. it makes you both freeze, panting as you process what just happened.

• his lips part in surprise, hips stuttering before completely falling still. he glances around the room as if caught during a heist.

• "er..." johnny looks away, a blush creeping up his cheeks. he remains inside of you, twitching hungrily for more movement. "that... that was new. can't say i've ever sounded like that before."

• you're dumbfounded. your typically breathy, horny johnny would never whine. it was always moans or grunts, nothing as desperate as that. a blush sneaks up on you as well, realizing you're wetter than before.

• "i liked it," you shrug with a lopsided smile. "i like when you're vocal."

• "oh yeah?" he pants, capturing your lips tenderly again. "i can keep doing it, then."

• it always flustered you how open he was about the bedroom. you could only mutter out a small "please," as he chuckles, picking his pace up again.

• the whimpers and whines were like the hungriest foot in the door for you, and you sought out every opportunity to bring more out. your hands would grab a fistful of hair and tug at the scalp to make him whine out more, his voice vibrating on your neck as he buries his face there.

• although you're enjoying this new spice to the bedroom, johnny is absolutely relishing in the way you clench around him with each whimper he lets out. seeing you happy makes him happy, which applies to majority of... other emotions, too.

• "i love you," he whines out, his hips stuttering again as his lips brush against yours. "my perfect... my... fuck, baby, i-"

• you shush him, bringing your foreheads together by pulling him in by the back of his head. you're panting into each other's mouths, though johnny is more vocal.

• when you reach your own high, your nails dig in deep, making johnny cum hard. with each spurt, a long whimper drips from his mouth as he satisfies his morning wood.

• he falls onto your chest, where you lovingly stroke through his hair and kiss his damp temple. he hums, eyelids fluttering shut.

• "so, here's my plan," he mutters, tracing circles around your bare stomach. "we shower, we eat breakfast, and you tell me exactly what gets you going so i can make you cum like that again."

• "those noises were a good start," you giggle, scratching his back. "that was something that'll probably do it."

• "noted."

[bunnyluvx]

the hanged man.

featuring: julian devorak x gn!reader. (w/ asra!)

summary: the morning after the dock talk.

warnings: death mention. nothing else.

a/n: HELLO SWEETIES!! i present thee with my first fanfiction!! all of my other content has been hcs/imagines up until this point and i am very excited about it! i did not expect for my first fanfic on here to be angst but i got so giddy about this idea that i couldn't wait. i am about to finish nadia's route and omg i am so nervous???? literally one more book, then i find out which ending i got. i REALLY want her reversed ending but will not be completely displeased if i get her upright ending. we shall see within the next couple of days. thank you to the ppl who gave constructive criticism to help me better this fanfic!! proofread. now enjoy your angst >:3

date started: 10:24PM, july 4th, 2024. date finished: 9:30PM, july 8th, 2024.

divider credit: @thecutestgrotto

wc: 1.9k

Sun pours in through the window beside your bed. It tickles your skin, urging you to wake from your slumber. The light tries to pull the covers off of you as the day calls your name, but you do not answer. You lay curled up on your side, blankets huddled around you in a cocoon. You don't carry the usual motivation that you have to get up and get things done, not today. All you want to do is hide in the blankets away from the world and stay there forever. So many emotions that are far too heavy for you to carry weigh on your shoulders, and if sleeping forever was an option, you would have dozed back off by now. But the sun is persistent in its mission at waking you, so your eyes begrudgingly peel open.

Your sight is welcomed by the same view that you have been greeted with every morning for the past three years. You lay still for a moment to take everything in. So much has happened ever since the countess asked that you take on the task of finding Count Lucio's killer, Doctor Julian Devorak. The first time that you met him, he had broken into your shop, and you found him again at the Rowdy Raven. Somehow, you managed to run into him again after a few weeks, one thing led to another, and you had fallen in love with the very man that you had sworn to catch for hanging. This romance did not last you very long, for last night, he left you. He told you that he was a disaster waiting to happen, that he didn't want to hurt you. He was so convinced that if you chose him, you would have chosen a horrible fate, and he couldn't let you do that to yourself. He walked you home, and while having dinner with Asra after speaking about your day, you broke. You had spent most of that night in tears with them at your side the entire time, holding you and rubbing your back to comfort you.

You turn around to see Asra exactly where he was when you had fallen asleep; At your side, on their back with their arm extended out to you incase you wanted to curl up against them. He had warned you about Julian, and his words echo in the back of your head. "The only thing he loves more than drama is his own suffering. And he's determined to chase both." You reflect on the way that he spoke of himself when he was fighting with himself about leaving you, and you find it so hard to believe that Julian is anything like how he sees himself. With the little time that you had spent together, you can see Julian's big heart, one that is kind and adventurous and full of love for the people around him. Despite everything that happened in his past, whatever it was, you can't see him as anything more than someone you want to love.

Enough is enough. You cannot lay here and sulk all day, even though that's all you really want to do. Slowly, you manage to sit up from bed, careful with your movements so that you don't wake Asra. You decide to go downstairs to make some tea for yourself, since it always makes you feel better. You trudge to the shop below, still groggy from slumber, and grab the teapot before waking the salamander and politely asking to light a fire for you. The fire flares up, and you make your favorite brew.

After you make your tea, you delicately take the mug into your hands and blow on it before having a sip. A content sigh escapes your lips as your eyes close, savoring the taste on your tongue. You take another slow sip before your eyes open, looking around the shop that you have learned like the back of your hand. You figure that you'll probably need to open up today, which you don't think will be too much of a problem. Standing around won't do you much good, you think, so you decide to stand outside for some fresh air. You make your way to the door and open it, one foot is about to step out of the door when you stop upon seeing something just under your foot. You move it back into the shop, then lean over and see..a letter? Your name is written on the front in handwriting that you have seen in the palace's library, and you know exactly who it's from.

You scoop the letter up from the floor before dashing inside, slamming the door behind you before rushing to the front counter. Anxiety swirls around within your stomach hotly, and your hands slightly tremble as you rip open the letter. You free the paper from its prison and unfold it, then begin to read.

My Dear,

I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. At the time that I am writing this letter, it has only been a couple of hours since I dropped you back off at the shop. The moment that I walked away, all I wanted to do was come running back to you. My heart was screaming at me to turn around, to ask you to come with me, wherever that meant for us to have gone. I guess that just proves how selfish I am, or maybe just how alluring you are. In the end, the decision that I made was for the better of both of us. We could never be together, no matter how badly we want differently.

Believe me when I say that I did not want this to end the way it has. I have never wanted to cause you harm or heartache. If I could, I would spend the rest of my life taking your pain away. But I have only one purpose in this life, and that is to hurt. I am destined to bring misery to everyone in my life, and to live alone. Choosing a future with me would mean to choose a future full of disappointments, and I do not want to disappoint you anymore. I do not want to disappoint anyone anymore. So I will not burden you with my presence. You will be able to go on with your life, chasing a future that will not wind up with you getting hurt. You are the last person that I want to drag into my mess, so I have to let you go.

Though our time together was short, I enjoyed it all. Every moment with you made me feel more alive than I have ever felt before. It is not often that I find someone who is willing to get into some mischief with me, so finding you and sharing the experiences that we had together is something that I am very grateful for. I am grateful that you allowed me to be in your company for as long as you did, and I am grateful for the kindness and care that you showed me. You have such a gentle, beautiful soul, and everyone who has ever crossed paths with you are the luckiest people on planet to have been able to experience your presence.

I could go on about how lovely you are. You have so much love to give, and you are caring. You had the capacity to care for me, and for that, I am grateful. One day, I can only hope that you will understand that leaving you was for your benefit. I do not want to bring you the suffering that I have brought so many others, so I will spare you of myself. I am struggling to believe that this decision is the right one, honestly. All I can think about is running back to your shop and breaking in again to tell you how sorry I am, and to beg for your forgiveness. That's something that we are going to have to find out together, I guess.

Forever Yours,

Dr. Julian Devorak

You don't know how long tears have been falling down your face. Your chest feels tight, like it's about to burst, and you can't breathe. A hand hovers over your mouth as you stare in horror at the paper in your hand. Too many emotions crash into you all at once for you to even begin processing the words in front of you. You couldn't believe that this is how it's ending between you and Julian. You know that part of why he feels this way about himself is because he has no memory of the night that he allegedly murdered Count Lucio. However, there is also the opposite end of that spectrum; He doesn't remember. There could be a chance that he didn't actually kill the count, and if that's the case, then you need to figure out what actually happened that night. Your blood runs overwhelmingly hot inside you as you ruminate on Julian's irresolution. You feel like you shouldn't even be this upset about someone that you didn't even have a solid relationship with, but you can't ignore the agonizing stabbing feeling in your heart. He could be innocent, but he is more willing to live his life wallowing in his own guilt than to live knowing that the baggage that he is carrying is unneeded.

You are unable to control your body any longer as you collapse to your knees, your loud sobbing betraying the anger that you stirred inside you just moments ago. A brief feeling of regret is drawn from you for even thinking of being angry, leaving as soon as it comes to be replaced with desolation. Grief for what could have been, for what you so desperately wanted this to be, overwhelms you. Shrieks from your voice scream into the empty shop as you hold the letter to your chest with both arms, your torso leaning forward in a fetal position on the floor.

Footsteps scatter down the stairs, and familiar eyes lay upon you. Your cries have awakened Asra, and they are at your side within seconds. His hands are on your shoulders and he sits on the floor with his feet under his butt, his knees propping him up. They watch worriedly as you heave and wail, only when you sit up do they see the letter in your hand. He doesn't say anything, for he knows exactly what has happened. Their eyes darken before they return their focus to you, you are far more important right now. You cry out to whatever spirit will listen, and collapse into Asra's arms. A strong embrace comes around you, only protecting you so much from the hurt of your heart.

You cannot understand what is going inside of Julian's head for the life of you. You do not understand why he feels such a strong need to push you away when all you want is to love him. He has admitted to wanting the same thing, so you feel so confused as to why he just won't let you. You find it difficult to believe that he truly hates himself so much, that he despises the very person that you see so much good in. The fact that he hates someone who took on a curse in which he takes on other's wounds because of his own guilt baffles you. A future without Julian is not a future that you want, but it is what he believes that he deserves. He believes that he deserves to walk the world alone for the rest of his life, and despite the fate that he has condemned himself to, something muffledly admits to you that it is not what he is bound to live.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai.

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Lapses

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: In the wake of death our minds begin to wander. To better times, to little moments. Reality is so fickle in the minds of the weak. But he's coming back. Eventually.

Tags: No use of Y/N, hurt/no comfort, set mostly during the nine months Reader spent grieving before Billy returned in 'My Ghost,' disassociation, distorted reality, death, references to 'Twin Peaks' (1992).

Previous Works in Series: 'My Ghost' (original) • 'Repentance' (prequel)

Warning: You should at minimum read 'My Ghost' before reading this work in the series first. (For best reading experience, please read both previous works beforehand.)

Notes: :)

-¤°》◇《°¤-

Down comes clumps of wet snow from the grey sky, falling.

                And falling.

                         And falling.

I don't know when I wake up.

The TV has been on for hours. Flashing the same photos.

He smiled at me from across the room.

Don't think. Don't perceive. Don't focus.

"I think you look pretty with your hair like that," I told him. His cheeks are so rosy when he smiles.

Smiled.

Why is he smiling?

Where is that photo even from? Have they contacted me with any new details? Check your email.

"Is the internet working? I can't get this fucking email to go through."

He left on an errand.

"Did the auto-payment go through for the bill?"

He's coming back.

"You didn't tell me that was due, I don't have anything on the account."

He's coming back.

"You don't have anything?"

He's coming back.

"I don't have anything."

What are you supposed to do after a death?

There's no guide. There's no instruction manual. Grieve, move on. That's it. That is all we know. How am I supposed to do the second if the general public disapproves so heavily of the first?

There's a long while I don't even leave my house. I lock the doors, shut the curtains tight and nail them to the walls so he can't leave. Like he's captured in my basement, wilting in the darkness as I try to preserve his voice ringing in my ears like the sirens on the TV I eventually break when I throw the remote at it in a fit of rage and desperation.

"It's a piece of shit anyways," Billy would say when he saw it again. "I always meant to buy us a new one."

First thing I did when I found out was rip open my nightstand drawer. "William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"What the fuck did you do? What the fuck did you do?" I whispered under my breath. "Where the fuck is the gun?in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

I tore the house apart looking for it. He's unwell. Wasn't it just last night he was curled on my bed, so sweet and small as he stared at the wall in front of him?

He didn't feel well. He said his stomach hurts. My stomach hurts. Must have been something he ate, he mentioned a mistake. He wouldn't do this of his own free will, I know him.

He walks through the living room, pulling on a jacket to fight the cold air that seeps through the thin windows.

"Whatcha watching?"

Your report "'Twin Peaks,'" I told him.

"Oh shit, seriously? I haven't seen that since high school," he laugh'sowhodoicallabouttheremains?"

"Apparently they came out with a new season," I said. "Got us a free trial if we wanna watch."

"We gotta start from the beginning. Won't make sense if we don't," he says as he throws himself and one other dead thus far against the couch, almost landing on top of me in his excitement. It makes me scream.

Our first date was a little bit of a mess. I wasn't really expecting to meet someone when I did. But I met him. And he was sweet.

"So he didn't tell you anything about this?"

I've dated. I've seen a few guys. Not to sound easy, it was only a handful. But I'd only dated one other guy seriously. It was high school, lasted all the way through. Didn't end well.

"He was running an errand. He does it all of the time."

Billy picked me up fifteen minutes early. Claimed Google overshot the time estimate to my address, so he left early. Later he admitted it was a lie.

                                   But he's not a liar. Why won't anyone believe me?

"What does he do on the errands?"

"I don't know, get groceries or something. I never asked."

                         I never wanted to know.

Billy hasd this romantic side to him. Oh yes, Mister 'Primps and Primes in Front of The Mirror For an Hour Just To Get Drinks' had a flare for the dramatics. Who would have thought? And he showed up with this grocery store bouquet of lilies and baby's breath mixed with wildflowers from the local park.

"They price the hell out of these things for half the product. Figured I'd give you the proper amount," he said with a wink.

"Did you know he was affiliated with gang activities?"

"No!" Yes. "Of course not!" I helped him pack a bag of coke about a week ago.

Did you know that I love the color blue?

                                                                        No.

Mm hmm. Had it on everything. Even dyed my hair that color in high school.

      You with blue hair? You're full of shit.

No, I'm serious! Hated the bleaching process though. Do you know how bad it looks when you grow out dark hair from neon blue?

                          I imagine It'd look co-

Ld.

                              It's cold.

It's been a week. The police have decided I have nothing to do with this. The town has nothing to do with me.

The house is in shambles. But some things are prestine. Like his ashtray sitting on the kitchen table. I kept the surface clean for him, for when he comes back. A string of photos is on the wall from when we went to the arcade and found a photo booth. Half of them are photos of us just looking at each other. Not kissing. Not smiling. Just looking. He has such gentle eyes, you know? I tried to draw them once. They're really hard. They're just so soft, just the right angle. The skin on his eyes crease so specifically. And if you don't draw them right, it doesn't look like him at all. Told him I was gonna get it perfect eventually.

"I may have to go away for a little bit."

They won't give me anything to bury. They won't let him come home. One time Billy was trapped at a bus station during a snow storm and couldn't come home. He'd been running an errand for a friend. I think I know who that friend is now. Billy could hardly even call on the phone from how bad the storm was. He was so cold. Said he wished I was here. Said how much he misses me. Said there was a rerun of 'Twin Peaks' at the station keeping him company. So I put on the same episode and stared at the TV while I waited for him to regain service and let me know where he was. I told him to give me a call when he could.

I'm at the bottom of his closet. Our closet. I don't know why I'm here.

       When I was a child, I liked small spaces

Yeah?

"This is a hard time. It's only natural that you're grieving," says my mother on the other side of the phone.

A month ago Billy sat across from me, eyes trained on the TV as we smoked our way through season two.

"If I have a psychotic break, would you reenact history for me?" He teased around his joint.

"Why don't you go to church?"

"No one talks to me there. I've tried, momma. They hate me. They keep thinking I was in on it." I helped him pack a bag of coke.

"God won't judge you."

Scientists aren't really sure what happens to your mind when you die.

I've looked it up. Once. Read an article. Well, read is a strong word. More accurately I stared at it on my ancient computer I'd had since college while I disassociated for hours on end trying desperately to concentrate. Maybe it's morbid, but when your soon-to-be husband dies in a fire one is prone to wonder about such a thing.

Recent articles suggest DMT- a psychedelic drug that can occur naturally in plants -can actually be produced by your brain in the final moments of brain activity.

"Do you think there's anything after this?" He'd asked me one time as we layed beneath the stars, sand in our hair from the beach of the lake.

"I think we see what we need so that we'll be content as we drift away."

"Studies of animals undergoing brain death have found that the organ begins to release numerous signaling molecules and creates unusual brainwave patterns to try to resuscitate itself, even as it shuts down external signs of consciousness."

I'm sorry. I can't focus anymore. On anything. I feel like my lungs are being squeezed from bottom to top like a tube of gogurt.

We were hardly paying attention to the show anymore. So smoked out it was hilarious to us, laughing at everything as we focused on nothing except for the feeling of each others skin. My hands on his cheeks, his hands covering mine so soothingly. It was so sweet when he guided me off the floor where I lay. Julee Cruise sang on the old TV. Falling, falling. All I can feel is falling as he guides me into a gentle sway across the old shag carpet lit with the mid-July sunset, holding me like I'll fall far, far away.

"I think I've fallen in love with you," Billy whispered against my ear. His breath is warm.

"Yeah?" I'm too high for this conversation. I didn't even realize how low my tolerance had gotten since the last time I smoked. "You make me feel like I'm in high school again."

We'd danced the whole night. He didn't know hardly any of the songs, causing him to be off beat. I was too drunk to keep time, so I stepped on his leather boots enough times there was a visible scuff on the top of one by the end of the night. I always felt bad, offering to replace or help pay to fix it. He wouldn't let me.

"I could die tomorrow and I'd be happy," Billy confessed in a strained voice, finally letting all of the walls come tumbling down around us to the gentle beat of the song. "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

I was so nervous during our first date that I forgot how to eat hummus properly. It sounds so silly, doesn't it? But there was something about him. He wore this white button up shirt, basic jeans that were tight on his thighs. Not that I was looking. Much. His hair was combed neatly, gelled away from his face in a chic manner. Really, he took the whole thing so seriously he almost looked like some youth pastor they would have shuffled into a room with high schoolers to play a guitar and say 'you know, I was troubled once'  before offering his story of repentance. It was so different from how he usually looked. Was he scared?

But anyways, I was so nervous that when they brought us our tray of hummus and bread to share, I took my little triangle slices and barely dipped them so to not look greedy before shoving the whole piece in my mouth one by one. I didn't even remember I was supposed to tear them apart until a week later. I was just trying to avoid double dipping.

"I think that's the first time I fell in love with you," Billy confessed. I giggle so stupidly, so incredibly high as I float on air.

"Because I was stupid?" I ask.

"Because you were sweet," he said.

There's a long moment of silence, the music swelling and making the cheap TV vibrate from the bass it was unequiped to handle.

"Tell me you'll marry me one day," he whispered.

What do you do with a ring that no one wants you to wear? I'm sorry I couldn't help you.

"Isn't it a little early for that?" I laughed softly.I'm sorry you went out on a romantic whim and borrowed money you shouldn't have for the ring I was too ashamed to wear on the proper finger. "It's only been a year." I don't even think we're dancing anymore. I think I'm sorry you couldn't come back for me.we're just swaying softly to the music flowing around us in a blind stupor, the humidity so suffocating outside that Billy shoved an electric fan in the living room window to try and blow in the cool air earlier that afternoon.

And I'm sorry for hating you when you showed up unannounced at my door.

“It shuts the door to the outside world and takes care of internal business because the house is on fire,”  says biomedical scientist Charlotte Martial of the University of Liège, who studies near-death experiences.

He looks guilty sitting on the bed, watching me fiddle with the small container in front of me.

"You can't bring much," he tells me. There's sadness in his voice, honest and tired. His clothes smell like lavender.

"It's fine," I said.

He simply stares at me, bags heavy under his eyes. He had this spark of life before he returned to me that evening. I'm so glad he's home. Things weren't the same.

"Your hair looks so pretty like that," I said, stepping closer to cup his face in my hands. The contents of my nightstand drawer stabbing the bare skin of my feet as I walk to him. He blushes, looking away in shame.

"You can't ever come back if you leave with me," he says softly.

"I have nothing to return to. Everything is gone," I insisted. But I can see he's having second thoughts, glancing down the hallway. "You can't leave me again."

"What the fuck is that?" I screamed into the phone.

"Baby, I don't know-"

"There is a manhunt for my fucking fiánce who can hardly kill a fucking spider and all you want to say is you don't fucking know?!"

There's an article staring at me. Sent by my mother just a few minutes prior. Billy had been gone for a couple hours after leaving me with a small little keychain on the kitchen table and a soft kiss on my forehead, saying he had some plans for that evening. But he'll be back soon. He wasn't lying.

"I want you to come. But you have to be sure."

His eyes are desperate, staring up at me as I stoke his hair away from his face. His clothes smell like lavender.

They finally sent him home today. Took nine months. First they had to confirm it was his remains. Then I had to decide where I wanted him to go. It's such a hard process trying to get your loved ones back, especially when you were running out of the pills that kept you sane. Kept you wrapped in the thick fog of memories left behind to damn the living in a house that has turned more into a tomb. No sunlight, no visitors. My mother came over to see us once, but the smell was so bad she left soon after. I got a new bottle today. Might as well, after all.

He looks so tired on my bed. Curled in on himself. You could fit him in a box. So small. So tired.

It's so cold.

                  "You know, today would've been our anniversary?"

Zemmar says, because “death is sort of a mystery—we don’t really know what it is.”

I wonder who found me alone in the closet of our room.

                    We were too busy dancing to notice.

▪︎》◇《▪︎

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist • Article

[gothgril69]

Levi Ackerman x Reader

MDNI (18+)

cw: smut (nothing crazy)

word count: 1k

Can't stop thinking about Bull Rider!Levi

He's not at all what you expected when Erwin invited you to watch the rodeo that night, giving you that charming smile as he looks down at you. You were hesitant at first, not usually one to go to your small town's fairs and events, but goddamn that bright smile under that tan cowboy hat had your heart skipping a beat.

He was riding that night, a young bull full of fight that easily launches him off his back in under the eight seconds he's trying to reach. You grimace when his back hits the ground hard, but Erwin is fast enough to get out of the way with a wide smile on his face and a skip in his step as the others wrangle the bull back in it's pen. He catches your eye and you give him a wave.

What you weren't expecting next was the smaller man that came out after Erwin, jet black hair peeking out from under his black cowboy hat. Levi Ackerman, the announcer speaks loud over the intercom, the rodeo's record holder and the only one to reach those eight seconds.

Your interest is piqued immediately, and you lean on the metal bar separating you from the ring. He's handsome, incredibly so, and you forget about Erwin and any of the other striking blond men you've seen today and focus on Levi settling himself on top of the bull. You watch his hands from a distance, watch as one wraps around the rope secured to the bull underneath him and let your imagination run wild.

The gates are released with a loud bang when the metal hits the barrier as Levi holds himself upright on top of the bucking bull. Your lips part in surprise as you watch how effortlessly he seems to do it, the way his hips move in time with the bull's movement to make sure he remains steady on top. He has his free hand on top of his hat, making sure it doesn't fall off in the process.

Those eight seconds are up quick, and it seems as if Levi could ride that bull for even longer as he hops off and quickly backs away from it as the others wrangle it in again. The crowd is going wild, cheering and yelling his name all while you stand there in surprise and clap along. He looks around the crowd, waving and nodding with an indifferent expression across his face as he circles the ring to give crowd members high-fives or autographs.

He stops in front of you at the end of his rounds, and then he's smirking while he removes his cowboy hat to place it on top of your head. You lick your lips and smile at him, unashamedly raking your eyes over the way his black collared shirt hugs his body tight while it's tucked into his jeans. He rakes a hand through his mussed hair, and then he's walking off to the other men that have taken their turn.

Erwin comes up to you when the show is over, parting through the crowd that shuffles themselves out of the metal fences surrounding the grounds. "Did you enjoy the show?" he asks you with that bright smile of his, gesturing for you to follow him.

You fall into step with him. "Yeah," you honestly reply. "It was a lot of fun. You did great." You smile up at him.

He laughs. "Ah, thanks darling, but I think someone may have caught your attention a bit more than me." He pats your head over your new cowboy hat.

You shove his arm. "Don't say that," you laugh. "I've just never seen anyone actually ride for the eight seconds."

The two of you walk together until Erwin is introducing you to all the guys, including Levi. He seems to understand that your attention has been captured by someone else, and you both respectfully part ways for the night as he leaves you alone with Levi.

"You can take your hat back," you offer to him, taking off the hat to hold it out for him.

"I think it looks better on you," he tells you with his hands tucked into his pockets, leaning against the back of his pickup truck he's walked you to. He stands with so much confidence it makes you feel flustered as he starts to walk toward you. "Let me help you with that." He takes the hat from your hands and places it on top of your head, adjusting it while you stare at him. "Better."

“You wanna get out of here?" you breathe.

—

Levi takes you hard and slow, fucking you deep into the mattress with every perfect roll of his hips against yours.

You barely made it inside his ranch home before he was slamming your back against his front door, his lips colliding with yours in equal fervor. Clothes were shed almost immediately, cowboy hat forgotten, and his hands glided across every surface of your skin to touch more and more of you like he couldn't get enough.

Now your back is pressed into his mattress, his body pressed close to yours with a sheen of sweat over your skin as he thrusts into you. “Fuck, your pussy is so good,” he groans into your neck, lips brushing against your pulse point.

“Levi,” you mewl, your arms holding onto his biceps as he takes you deeper. You arch your back into him, feeling every ounce of pleasure he has to give, and he slips an arm under your back to hold you close.

“Give me another one,” he gasps and lifts his head to look down at you. “Come on, love, you can do it.” He picks up his pace, thrusting hard and faster into you as his hand dips down to circle fingers against your clit.

Your eyes roll back when you cum, squeezing and pulsing around him to the point where he meets his end at the same time. His hot cum spurts inside you, his cock throbbing as his thrusts slow while he presses himself as far as he can go in you. His head falls forward until his forehead is resting against your sternum, heavy breaths panting against your skin as you do the same with your eyes closed.

“Stay the night,” Levi mumbles against your skin, leaving small kisses until he looks up at you again.

You open your eyes and nod dumbly.

[peppered-moths]

all roads lead back to you (even the ones i took to forget)

"Can you keep a secret?" Scott asks.

He's standing in front of the Secret Keeper, a monolith of stone and silence, eyes glowing with reflected starlight. His lips curl in a soft smile, simultaneously distant and inviting and just a little bit teasing. He looks like a memory long forgotten.

Jimmy doesn't think he can breathe. The aching familiarity presses behind his eyes, digs between his bones, where he'd thought he'd buried it. If he squeezes his eyes shut, he thinks, he could imagine that the loam beneath his feet is blooming. He can feel petals in his hair.

"Yeah," he manages, finally, trying to ignore the way his voice rasps, raw desperation scraping his throat. Tell me anything. Anything at all, as long as it's us. Scott smiles wider, one hand reaching up to adjust the poppy crown atop his head. Jimmy remembers weaving the stems together, fingers clumsy and uncoordinated as the winter chill bit at him (Dogwarts had always been a good place to find poppies, funnily enough), and the crown had ended up lopsided. He remembers the warmth of embarrassment in his cheeks as he presented it to Scott, expecting kindly mocking laughter, only to blink at his sudden grin. He doesn't think Scott had taken it off since.

"I think I'm still in love with you." If he had thought he was breathless before, it's nothing compared to now, as a little, crushed sound punches its way out of his chest. It's too much and not enough, all at once. He's not sure how he's denied himself this for so long, especially since it's been right at his fingertips the whole time. He's choking on the words, saccharine, honey-sweet.

"Say it back." Scott's smile turns sharp. Jimmy opens his mouth. He wants to, feels the words in the way his ribs curl over his chest, caging his rebelling heart. I know, he wants to say, I know I want this, and I know I'm not supposed to. I know I've denied this for so long. I know I've hurt you, I've had your blood in my mouth and I liked the taste, but I don't want to anymore. I know I shouldn't feel this and I know I feel it anyways.

I know that I'm in love with you too.

The words stick in his throat. The words stick in his throat, and he bites his tongue, hard enough to draw blood. He's struck mute, caged in by an invisible force pressing down on his chest. And all the while, Scott stands there, eyes bright and knowing, with fingers like claws as he curls them around Jimmy's chin to tilt his head upwards. When did he get so close?

"You can't say it, can you?" Scott practically sneers, an edge to his voice that borders on vindictive. "Because you're a coward, isn't that right? Or maybe," and his voice drops, low enough that he has to strain to hear it, "maybe you never even loved me at all. Maybe it was all a means to an end to you, watching me trail after you, helpless, hopeless."

No, he wants to argue, no, that's not it, I just- but he wouldn't know what to say even if he could say it. Maybe that's the worst part; the not knowing. Why does anybody love anybody? Why does anybody leave anybody?

Scott has a crown of poppies and eyes full of stars, and he is an unattainable wish just out of Jimmy's reach, because he's too scared to reach out and get burned-

Wait.

Something isn't right. This isn't right.

Scott doesn't wear poppies anymore. Hasn't, since Third Life. The sky is too bright, the air too thin. He can't feel Scott's hands on his face.

The man tilts his head, a lock of blue hair falling into his face. "I'm the closest you'll ever get to the real thing, darling."

Jimmy sits bolt upright, hands clutching at the sheets of his bed. A dream. How cliché. It doesn't make it feel any less real, though. It doesn't stop the crushing weight in his chest. It doesn't stop him mouthing the words he couldn't say. I love you, I love you, iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou-

It doesn't stop them leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, from causing him to curl in on himself and think, maybe I'm not cut out for this.

A flash of red catches his eye, and he nearly gives himself whiplash with how quickly he turns to look.

It's... a poppy. Because of course it is. Jimmy vaguely remembers picking it up when he was wandering aimlessly, nearly second nature. Now it's lying on top of one of his chests, inadvertently making his heart beat faster. Jimmy swallows. Because you're a coward, isn't that right?

Love you! Scott- the real Scott- had called, waving a cheery goodbye. Jimmy had stopped dead, waiting. Waiting for the hunger, the burning, barely-disguised desperation of Limited Life. He had been waiting for Scott to beg.

And then, he hadn't. He'd just smiled- casual, not soft or deadly, not anything at all. He'd smiled, and he'd left, leaving Jimmy in a half-daze, with nothing to say back, not even the poor excuse of thirty minutes.

He wonders, if he dreamt for long enough, if he'd find the right words to say to him. A mix between I love you and I'm sorry and everything but silence. Anything but damning silence.

He's not sure he wants to know, he realizes, as he bends down to examine the flower. It's just beginning to wilt, the edges of the petals wrinkling. One dislodges itself and floats on the slight breeze. Jimmy follows it with his eyes, far too fond for something as simple as this.

He doesn't want to just dream it.

He picks up the poppy, gently, as another petal drifts to the floor. "It's a start," he says quietly, feeling the wry smile quirking at his lips. For old times' sake, he imagines he'll claim, and maybe Scott will smile, bright green eyes accented by the smudged blue eyeliner he's taken to wearing. Thank you, he might say, too raw, too earnest, or I thought I was the sentimental one? And Jimmy will laugh, and Scott will grab his wrist and tell him to stick around a little longer, just to catch up.

And maybe, just maybe, it'll be forgiveness.

[stargazer-sims]

The Art of Redemption

(part 20)

previous // next // story index

—————

"I didn't realize it'd be this easy."

Nikolai watches in fascination as Ginger slides the iron along the length of a damp towel spread over her ironing board. Underneath the towel is one of his medals. He can see the silver peeking out from under the edge. Tiny wisps of steam rise up from the towel, and the iron emits a soft sound that's somewhere between a sigh and a hiss, as if it can't make up its mind whether it's proud of a job well done or annoyed that this particular job is necessary.

They’re in Ginger’s kitchen with its cheerful yellow-painted walls and a large window that faces her apartment building’s courtyard. He’d spent last night here at her place and he'd slept remarkably well on the pull-out couch, with Tangerine tucked into the crook of his arm. This morning, Ginger made tea, waffles, and fruit salad with cottage cheese for breakfast, and then they went to the rink together. Afterwards, as Ginger had promised, she took him shopping for the things they’d need to restore and preserve his skating memorabilia.

Ginger smiles as she lifts the iron and sets it upright at the end of the ironing board. "I didn't say it'd be difficult. All I said was that it'd be a bit of work." She peels back the towel to reveal the medal. Its ribbon looks as good as new. "You've got a lot of medals. This isn't exactly a ten-minute task."

"Sorry."

"Don't say that," she admonishes. "I'm glad to do it. They deserve to look their best. Here." She lifts the current medal from the ironing board and passes it to him. "I'd be furious if anyone damaged my medals, but I know you'd help me fix them."

"I would, if I'd known this trick." He carries the medal to the table and lays it on the leaf of white tissue paper he'd already set out for it. Wrapping it carefully, he puts it in the plastic storage box he'd bought earlier that day. "Can I try doing the next one? Give your arm a break."

"Sure," Ginger agrees. "Shall I show you what to do, or has Beth-Anne been teaching you how to iron as well as teaching you how to cook?"

He shakes his head. "She irons my shirts. I don't think she trusts me with it. But I do know how to wash my own laundry now."

"She truly is your second mother, isn't she? Teaching you how to cook and do laundry. What else has she taught you?"

"I'm getting pretty good at cleaning my own bathroom. Apparently, she doesn’t do, uh… smelly man bathrooms, I think is how she phrased it.”

Ginger laughs. "Lord help us. Is she as bossy teaching you housekeeping skills as she is on the ice?"

"Surprisingly, no," he says. "I'm actually seeing a whole new side of her, living under the same roof, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it. She has more mom qualities than even I imagined."

"I'm glad it's working out," Ginger says.

"Me too. She’s letting me stay there until I finish my coaching courses, at least. We'll see what happens afterwards."

"So, you're doing that, then? Coaching, I mean."

"Yeah." He joins her by the ironing board as she pulls another one of his medals — a gold one this time — out of the cardboard box on the counter. His breath catches a little when he recognizes which one it is. "Ginger, I really have to fix this one myself."

She glances down at it. "ISU World Figure Skating Championship 2010. Yes, I can see why you'd want to sort this one out yourself. The 2006 and 2009 ones as well, I expect."

"When you find them, yeah," he says.

She gives the medal to him. "All right. Lay it flat, and press the ribbon as smooth as you can with your hand. Then we'll put the towel on."

"Okay." He does as she instructs. "How's this?"

"Good. Now, the towel. Don't cover up the gold bit. You don't want to iron that."

"Got it."

“Press down firmly, but not too hard.” Ginger positions herself behind him and places her hand over his to guide him for the first couple of strokes with the iron. "Yes, that’s the way. Well done.”

He concentrates on what he's doing, but that doesn't prevent him from thinking about the world championships. The competition was in Italy last year, and a record number of Canadian skaters had qualified, four of whom were from their very own Brindleton Bay Skating Club; himself in the senior men's category, Ginger in senior women's and their friends Hunter and Juliet in pairs.

Their coaches had considered it a triumph for so many of them to have made it in. However, by the end of the week, their elation at qualifying paled in comparison to the emotional high of what sports journalists had dubbed 'The Canadian Sweep'.

It hadn't really been a sweep, of course. That would've required Canadians to win gold in all four categories. In reality, Canadian ice dancers won silver, and although Juliet and Hunter didn't have a top-three finish, the other Canadian pair in the competition took home bronze. Ginger, who'd received her citizenship the previous summer and was finally able to officially compete for Canada, won gold in her category, and Nikolai had also claimed gold in his. It was his second Worlds gold in a row.

Would I have made it three in a row at Worlds this season? he wonders. Is Ginger going to be able to get her own double gold?

Like him, Ginger has more than one world championship gold medal, and also like him, she won her first and second ones in non-consecutive years. Nothing would excite him more than to see her earn back-to-back titles.

He hopes she's ready. She hadn't skated yesterday, and from what he'd seen from her in practice today, she doesn't appear to be concerned at all. Stan didn't seem particularly bothered either. He'd been going easy on her.

But, maybe that shouldn't have been a surprise. Ginger looked flawless on the ice. Nikolai tried to observe every move she’d made, and he hadn't noticed a single thing he thought she could improve on. Her performance was powerful and beautiful and technically perfect.

Don't worry about her. She's got this, he tells himself, but the directive only partially works. He's still going to worry, not just because he wants her to do well, but because he wants her to be safe, to not be careless or overconfident.

This year's world championship is being held in Russia, in Moscow, and it's taking place in just a couple of weeks, near the end of March. It's been more than a year since Nikolai has been to his grandfather and parents' home country, and he's overcome with the sudden, crazy notion that he could go and watch the competition. He's not a fan of flying, and he'd have to pay for the trip out of his own pocket, but he's certain it'd be worth it to see his best friend skate her way to a spot at the top of the podium.

"Nikolai." Ginger's voice inserts itself into his thoughts.

"What?"

"I think it's done."

"Oh." He sets the iron aside, and then pulls away the towel to find that it is indeed done. It looks as pristine as it did when the ISU official had draped it around his neck last spring in Turin.

On impulse, he picks it up and puts it on. Somewhere in the back of his mind, an imaginary crowd cheers and tosses bouquets of flowers onto the ice, and O Canada plays. He swallows convulsively.

Ginger's palm comes to rest on his back. She rubs gently between his shoulder blades. "You okay?"

He nods. "I'm... I guess I'm just a little sad. All of this has been a lot."

"I can only imagine," she says. "It's okay to be sad."

"I know." He touches the medal hanging around his neck. "I'm getting better, though. My leg's getting stronger, and I'm feeling better about most things. Going to the rink with Beth-Anne every day has helped me a lot."

"I think mostly everyone is glad to see you there."

"I'm glad to be there," he tells her. "I really do want to coach, you know. I wasn't sure at first, but I realized I don't want to leave the sport even if I can't compete. This seems like the way that makes the most sense since I discovered that I really like helping people learn new skills. Beth-Anne says I'm good at it too. She thinks I'll be a great coach."

"For what it's worth, I'd tend to agree with her."

"Thanks. Your opinion's worth a lot to me, if you want to know," he says. "Anyway, the other reason I want to get into coaching is kind of a selfish one."

"Oh?"

"There's this one little kid..."

"Eden?"

"Yeah, Eden Seong. Have you seen him skate? He's only ten and he's absolutely amazing. He's going to be a champion some day, and I want to be there for that."

"He's one of Beth-Anne's students, right?"

"Right, but Beth-Anne says he might be my student in a couple of years, once he’s in Junior division.”

“And how does little Eden feel about that idea?”

“He’s into it. I think he’d want me to start coaching him right now if we were both ready,” Nikolai says. “I've been helping Beth-Anne with Eden’s individual lessons, and with one of her Novice students, and the group classes. She thinks I'll be able to teach a preschool group class by myself by September."

"That's brilliant," Ginger says. "Do you think you're ready for the challenge of teaching four year olds how to skate backwards and how to stop without colliding with something?"

He grins, remembering the antics of the five little skaters in the Saturday preschool class. "Well, I already taught one girl how to stop without crashing into me or into the boards, so I think I'll be fine."

"Helmets are mandatory, I hope."

"For the preschool kids? Yeah, definitely."

Ginger laughs. "I meant for you."

"With the way they bounce around, I think hockey shin pads might be more useful for me," he says.

"When Beth-Anne gets back, I'm going to come and watch you in action," Ginger declares. She pokes around in the cardboard box and retrieves another medal. "Here's Worlds 2009. I'll look for 2006 as well. Can you do this one on your own?"

"Yes," he confirms. "Do you really want to watch me work with the kids?"

"Adorable children and adorable you? Why wouldn't I?" she says. "The only thing that'd make the entire scenario any cuter than that would be if you brought the bear."

"I could make that happen."

"We should go to Build-A-Bear and see if we can find some skates for him."

Nikolai laughs. "He actually has some already. Workout gear and costumes too. If you want to come to my house with me later, we can find all his stuff and dress him up."

"Sounds like a project for tomorrow." Ginger looks both amused and pleased. "I had something else in mind for tonight."

"LIke what?" Nikolai asks.

"Ordering Korean food and watching the opening ceremonies of World Juniors. You did tell Brett you were going to watch, didn't you?"

"To watch him skate, yeah. I honestly didn't think about the opening ceremonies, but I’m liking this plan. Korean food because the competition's in South Korea?”

“Exactly so.”

“I like it. Can I sleep over again?"

“I think you’d better. South Korea’s twelve hours ahead of us and the ceremony’s on at half-past nine. It’ll be your bedtime by the time it’s over.”

“Yours too.”

“Mine too,” she concedes.

"What are we going to do between now and nine-thirty?" he inquires.

"Finish this, for a start." Ginger gestures at the ironing board where he's pressing the ribbon of his Worlds gold from 2006. The other two are around his neck, and they clink together gently each time he moves. "I've got dance time this afternoon, and Uncle Stan's probably going to be there. You can come along, if you like. Are you allowed to dance yet?"

"As long as I don't jump or put all my weight on my bad leg, I don't see why not," he says. "Nobody specifically said I can't dance, and I'd love to dance with you. It can replace my time on the treadmill."

"How much time on the treadmill are you allowed to do?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Right, then." Ginger nods, as if settling something in her own mind. "After thirty minutes, you've got to stop, and if you get tired or your knee starts hurting before thirty minutes, you stop."

She looks so serious, he has to put the iron down and cover his mouth to smother his laughter. "Are you channelling Beth-Anne right now?"

She folds her arms across her body and arches an eyebrow as she gives him a mock glare so reminiscent of Beth-Anne that it's uncanny. She manages to smooth out her English accent somehow as she demands, "Nikolai Pavlenko, are you questioning my coaching decisions?"

He snorts inelegantly in his futile effort not to crack up, "Oh my God..."

Ginger obviously tries to maintain her stern expression, but she dissolves into giggles too. "We've all spent way too much time together, I think."

"No," he says, once he catches his breath. "There's not such thing as too much time spent with you. Or Beth-Anne, for that matter. Or Uncle Stan. We're family."

"I love that sentiment, honestly," she says.

"Me too." Steady enough to resume ironing once more, he finishes another medal and then puts it around his neck with the other two. "There. That's my third Worlds gold done. How many do we have left?"

Ginger peers into the box. "About eight or nine. Are you going to put those three away before you press any more, or do you plan to wear all your Worlds medals at once?"

He considers for a moment. "All at once. Do you see the silver ones, or did we already get to those and I didn't notice?"

"Let's see... Here's 2007 and 2008," Her hand emerges with the two silver medals, and she sets them on the ironing board. "We're only missing 2004 now. Just give me a second."

"No problem. These'll take me a few minutes. I'm not as good as you at ironing yet," he says. "What time is your dance session, by the way? I can drive us over there."

"It's at three o'clock," she answers. "But, I thought perhaps we could take the bus."

"And... keep riding past our stop on the way home?"

"Hmm... For a couple of hours, perhaps."

"Let's do it," he says. "Do you want to stop to pick up food on the way back, or should we just order in?"

"Order in. That way, we can put our pyjamas on and settle in for the night, and if we happen to accidentally fall asleep on the sofa bed together, at least we'll already be dressed for it."

Nikolai smiles. More and more, he's learning that situations don't have to be monumental or momentous to be significant. Today's been a good day so far, an ordinary day. Nothing dramatic had to happen for him to find some sort of meaning in it. All he needs to understand right now is that he feels safe and that he’s content to be with his friend. Skating on TV, spicy noodles, and a sleepover. What more could he possibly want?

He and Ginger continue to chat amiably while they finish the task of getting all the wrinkles and creases out of the ribbons. Then, she takes a bunch of silly pictures of him with all six of his world championship medals around his neck at once, and they post them to their social media accounts with the most ridiculous captions they can come up with.

When they're done playing, they wrap the remaining medals and tuck them into the storage box. Ginger says she can keep the box here, if that'd make him feel more comfortable, and he agrees. He trusts her. If anyone would take care of them as if they were her own, it'd be Ginger.

Nikolai is just nestling the last small tissue paper wrapped bundle into the plastic container when his phone beeps for attention. It's a text alert. His phone is on the counter next to the microwave.

"Can you check that for me, please?" he asks Ginger.

"Sure," she says. She crosses the kitchen and scoops up the phone. A second later, she utters a half-spoken, half-groaned, "Ugh."

"What is it?" Nikolai inquires as he snaps the lid onto the storage box. "Or do I want to know?"

"It's Anya," Ginger holds out the phone at arm's length, as if it's giving off a bad smell. "She's written part of it in Russian, but I assume it's something disgusting if the string of pink heart emojis is anything to judge by. The other bit says, 'did you get our cat back?'."

"Our cat?" Nikolai echoes, incredulous. "Since when is Tangerine 'our' cat? She's mine. Anya barely tolerates her."

"Would you like me to send a reply to her?" Ginger asks.

"No, just delete that message. I'm not about to have a whole conversation with her through texts, and you shouldn't have to either."

"Do you really just want to delete it?"

"Yes," Nikolai says. "I'm determined that we're going to get to enjoy our plans for the rest of the day, and there's no way I'm going to let her mess it up."

[nesiacha]

In honor of Gracchus Babeuf's birthday, here’s a not-so-serious take: What if Gracchus had been on the Committee of Public Safety during Year II?

If you’re looking for a historical opinion, move on. This is not a serious post at all.

It would have been incredibly complicated. He would have arrived at the Committee like an overenthusiastic puppy, greeting everyone (except maybe Barère), and immediately spent his first day writing about how he's the humble and grateful "point of the revolution" (I've read some of his letters from the time he first arrived in Paris, and he was basically like a kid on Christmas morning, meeting so many important people). Known for his feverish passion for the revolution (I'm only half-joking, the man couldn't sit still sometimes—probably had caffeine running through his veins instead of blood), he would have talked non-stop about redistributing property, particularly focusing on the agrarian front, until the rest of the committee members would have been this close to just throwing him out the window (especially because he can't sit still in his chair) . In fact, they’d probably have had to remind him to calm down, like a hyperactive toddler who's had one too many sugar cubes.

To keep the peace, the Committee might have sent him on a mission to Picardy, where he was very popular. Besides, Babeuf always sought to understand the origins of economic problems, so he could have been effective in that regard. Lindet might have been pleased to have him there, even if they didn’t always agree. He could have been an ally of Lindet, given that they had once allied, even though Lindet didn’t take part in the conspiracy. The only common ground he might have had with Carnot would have been on women’s rights, but otherwise, not much (considering what happened in real life, the difference being that Lazare, as Director, might have hesitated to spearhead the repression of the Babouvists, perhaps because he knew Babeuf better, though that’s a big maybe).

His strongest asset would have been his closeness to the Marat family (especially Albertine Marat and Simone Evrard). He could have united both Robespierrists and Hébertists, as well as people like Lindet, even from a distance. This would have been a positive for the Committee. He was upright, honest, hard-working, and willing to risk his life and comfort (he only experienced 16 to 20 months of freedom during the Directory, so he was a true fighter, ready to give his life). From a family perspective, things might have been a little better. He wouldn’t have taken advantage of his position, but at least he could have fed his daughter Sophie, who might not have died of malnutrition.

He was much smarter than he appeared and wasn’t a utopian or a fool. For example, while Marat, brilliant as he was, constantly attacked Necker (justifiably), Babeuf would have tried to think beyond that, supporting tax measures, stable prices, and investigating the grain market. He would have wanted to understand why it wasn’t reaching Paris and would have volunteered to investigate. I can also see him declaring war on the black market and speculation.

In any case, Gracchus is a humanist who does not tolerate the slightest misconduct, even in the name of the revolution. This is demonstrated by his reaction to the assassination of Foulon and his response in Vendée, despite being a fervent revolutionary. I can imagine him reading the reports from Vendée, enraged, demanding that Carrier be severely punished, as well as Collot d'Herbois, when he learns that Collot used cannons for executions in Lyon. This would cause turmoil within the Committee (particularly for Collot d'Herbois). In this situation, Gracchus would immediately see Fouché's true nature, but he might innocently propose to the Committee of Public Safety (CPS) that Tallien be included, which would likely give Carnot, Robespierre, and others heart attacks. However, Gracchus would soon realize Tallien’s true character and withdraw his proposal.

A major point of divergence would arise during the struggle between factions, with both the factions and the CPS, as well as the Convention, all bearing some responsibility. On one side, Gracchus is closer to the Hébertists (some, like Chaumette) than to Collot d'Herbois, so he might try to calm them down. On the other hand, Chaumette did not participate in the insurrection attempt and withdrew, not out of cowardice or opportunism like Hébert—though the term may be harsh—but because he was more reasonable than many believed, despite his flaws, which didn’t prevent him from being guillotined. Thus, Gracchus would fiercely oppose the Committee, doing everything he could to avoid signing, especially for Chaumette. On the other hand, he would refuse any parody of justice, including that of the Indulgents, because he is a humanist and a reasonable person, and he would protest even more strongly the execution of Lucile Desmoulins and Marie-Françoise Hébert.

He might be expelled after delivering a speech that the Committee mishandled, publicly distancing himself from them. If he remains, I see him reluctantly forgiving them for what happened, because he understands that the CPS is being run by people crushed in an infernal machine, while still refusing to abandon his friends. After all, Babeuf supported Chaumette’s widow and, posthumously, reconciled with Robespierre. There is also a theory that explains why he spared a lot Carnot in his final speech, even though Carnot had been a key figure in his execution and contributed to his arrest, which ultimately led to his death. Despite knowing what Carnot had done against him, Babeuf often criticized people like Fréron, Tallien, Fouché, and Barras. However, he recognized that, for all his flaws, Carnot was more sincere than they were in safeguarding the Republic.

A minor drawback is that his wife (his political right-hand) can no longer spend as much time as a collaborator. Therefore, he would have a trusted friend manage his newspaper, while his wife would handle subscriptions, militating separately, assisting him, and accompanying him on missions.

However, it is very likely that he would eventually be deported. His wife, known for her strong character given all the trials she went through and her continued activism, would seek to escape with him, but if not, she would join him. She possesses incredibly terrifying courage, as evidenced by the many posts I have written about her. If he survives, he would continue his activism to the fullest, and perhaps he would even help inspire a larger uprising among the Black population, knowing him.

But here comes the biggest black mark, according to Pierre Serna: during his arrest, Babeuf was negligent and irresponsible, leaving a list of many people, whether conspirators or not, who were linked to him in his room. This made it very easy for the police to find everyone. So, imagine this: if he were in the CPS, went on a mission, and left secret documents unprotected (which is very possible, knowing him). An enemy or spy could have gained access to sensitive information or strategic plans. Imagine the faces of the other members of the CPS if it would have happened. Carnot would be shouting in his face, asking just how irresponsible he could be (a nice euphemism there), and how Gracchus seemed determined to ruin all their efforts. Maybe Carnot would even have a heart attack from the sheer foolishness of it all (RIP Carnot, but, hey, he survived Tallien and Barras, so maybe he would’ve survived this too... or maybe not). Billaud and Collot would exchange glances and say, “Well, it’s two against one. Let’s just get rid of him.” Prieur Claude-Antoine would do the most epic facepalm ever seen, probably with a loud sigh of frustration . Robespierre, on the other hand, would try to calm himself down by reading Rousseau, hoping to lower his blood pressure, but of course, that wouldn't work at all. His condition would get worse, and Momoro, would jump at the chance to mock Robespierre even more if he know about this (especially after hearing his speech about the tired revolutionaries and their broken legs). Couthon, trying to keep his cool, would attempt to write the Civil Code but would likely fail miserably (you can just imagine him scribbling down nonsense).

Saint-Just would also make the same reproach he made to Carnot in the movie Saint-Just et la Force des Choses (when, in the film, Saint-Just confronts Carnot over the Battle of Fleurus), telling him with great severity that, from another person, he would suspect a betrayal . In fact, he would be even harsher with Gracchus for making such a blunder that it would probably make the walls of the room shake. In any case, the CPS would no longer trust him with delicate missions. However, it would be interesting to see the aftermath with Buonarroti, who would need to join the CPS to channel his friend Gracchus.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Jack/Ava, really nice guy who hates only you.

[Do you know how happy I am to finally get part of their story down?It has taken so long]

Ava sees Crosby walk into the Officer's Club and lifts her hand. "Harry!" she calls, "we've got an extra chair!"

Crosby comes over and gives Ava the same flat, polite smile he always does. "I'm meeting some people," he says, giving Jack a nod. "But thank you."

Ava waits for Crosby to belly up to the bar before turning back to Jack. "See?" she says. 

Jack sighs. "This again?"

Ava puts her hands flat on the table and gives Jack a hard look. "He's the friendliest man on base to everyone else, but I've tried for weeks to get him to join us, and he always has an excuse."

"Because he's the friendliest man on base and always has plans," Jack says, tone flat. But there's a smile at the edge of his mouth. "He's never been anything but polite to you."

"He used to be nice to me," Ava replies. "Ask after the other nurses and if I've had word from home, but ever since you and I started setting each other, he's frozen me out."

"No, I'm sure that's not…"

Ava sips her whiskey and watches Jack's face as he thinks back over the last several weeks since they officially started courting. He can be hard to convince sometimes, but she appreciates that he will stop and think. It's also nice to watch him do it. The low, warm light in the O-Club softens the tired lines at his eyes and makes him glow a little. He's so handsome when he's relaxed, still upright in his posture, but languid in his movements. She imagines sometimes what it'll be like if they ever sneak away to London together. How relaxed could he get if he wasn't on or near base? 

"Okay," Jack says, pulling Ava from her thoughts. "Looking back on it, you have a point. He really has changed around you."

"I can't figure out why," Ava says. "Can you?"

Jack thinks again. He shakes his head. "No, I can't." He replies. He gives Ava a determined look. "So, I'll ask him."

Ava shoots out a hand and grabs his wrist. "What?! No!" 

Jack gives her a confused look. "But you want to know, don't you?"

Ava nods because, yes, she does. But also, no, she doesn't. What if she's committed some faux pas she's not aware of? What if she said something he wasn't meant to overhear but he heard it anyway? What if he thinks she's not good enough for Jack?

"Ava," Jack murmurs. He lays his hand over hers on his wrist. "Harry's a nice person. He must have a reason, or he doesn't realize he's changed his behavior."

Or he thinks I'm just a trampy hick, and you deserve someone better, Ava thinks. The thought makes her grimace, and her fear slips away into annoyance at herself. "You're right," she says. "It's easiest to ask him."

Jack takes her hand from his wrist and kisses her knuckles. "I'll be right back," he says. He stands and picks up his nearly empty glass. "Want another while I'm up?"

Ava downs the rest of her drink and passes him the glass. She watches him walk up to the bar, where Harry's got replacement navigators collecting around him like he's the main attraction at the county fair. Ava holds her hands, one in the other, and tries not to think too much as Jack places their drink order, then wades into the crowd of navigators and pulls Harry aside. 

It's not that she really thinks she's not good enough for Jack. She knows her own worth. Really. And she's explained to Jack why she gets nervous about it sometimes. How growing up how she did and the rumors about her stick to her like burrs even though she knows those rumors aren't true and that some people just need to push others in the mud for their own amusement. 

But she and Harry got along before. They really did. And the only thing that's changed is that now she wears the sweetheart brooch Jack got her. It's heart-shaped with a B-17 etched on the outside. His graduation photo from flight school is in there. The moment she's off-shift, she attaches it to her dress or her blouse and doesn't take it off until lights out. And ever since she started wearing it, Harry's been distant. 

Jack comes back to the table. He sets down their drinks before taking his seat. He's got a look on his face like he's been slapped. 

"Well?" Ava asks, never one for a long silence when there are questions to be answered. 

Jack blinks and shakes his head, then looks at her. There's a tenderness on his face that she's never seen before. Like he's just realized something very important. "Um, he doesn't hate you. You haven't done anything wrong," he says. He clears his throat, then reaches for her hand. She gladly gives it. "It's…" 

He looks at her again. Ava bites her lip to keep from demanding an answer. "We remind him of his early days with Jean," Jack finally says. "He says we both look completely smitten when we look at each other, and it's just hard for him to appreciate it with her so far away."

Ava blinks a few times. "Oh," she says. She presses her fingers to her mouth. "Oh, that's…that's quite the compliment," she manages. 

Jack nods. "I agree," he says. He takes a drink of his whiskey and squeezes her hand. "And as he was telling me, I was thinking, 'Well, that's not bad at all; that's a nice thought, really'."

"It is," she says. She clutches her glass and watches his face. The way he can't stop looking at her with this new tenderness. Like maybe he's just realized they could have something very permanent. It's something Ava hasn't let herself hope for just yet, even with his photo in her brooch. But now she feels the want of it, deep in her body. "It's a very nice thought,"  she adds. "I feel like I could think it for a long time."

The smile that blooms on Jack's face makes her almost cry. He looks so pleased. So content. So truly happy. She's done that. Her saying that made him do that. 

"Me, too," Jack agrees. 

Ava smiles back, hoping it's even half as obvious how much she cares about him as his smile was for her. They sit and they hold hands and they sip their drinks, and when the music starts, Jack leads her to the dance floor and holds her close, and Ava thinks that, yes, this is something she wants to think about very much.

[exololyunho]

working on one more

masterlist

Your honeymoon with Yunho marks the start of an adventure both of you are beyond excited for: parenthood.

wc: 6.1k

warnings: dirty talk, masturbation, established relationship, fingering, talk about babies, unprotected sex, Jeong Yunho has a breeding kink, multiple rounds/orgasms, mirror sex, belly bulge, cockwarming, spanking (ass and thighs), finger sucking, , food play?, hair pulling, rough sex, love making, pool sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, established relationship, 'slut' used once

an: so because part 2 originally picked up exactly where part 1 ended, I decided to just combine them into one fic. the first 2,000 or so words of this is just day 11. you should be able to pretty easily tell where it ends and the new content begins, but in case you can't, its when Yunho walks away to answer the door. enjoy!

This was something you and Yunho had been planning for a while, but there seemed like no better time than now. The two of you had just landed for your honeymoon, and after so many years with it being just you two, you had decided it was time for a baby. It certainly helped that not too long after you started dating Yunho you had quickly discovered his little breeding kink. Honestly, it surprised you that you hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. Your husband’s recovery time was insane and the man went nearly feral whenever you slyly ask him to knock you up.

But that brought you to now, waiting naked on your shared bed for him to come back to the suite from his morning swim in the private beside your bungalow. The man certainly loved his exercise and his physique was one of the things you loved about him, so you didn’t hold it against him. Plus, you two had the whole week to make sure he knocked you up.

You did however start to get impatient, your hand drifting between your parted legs. You found yourself already soaking wet from imagining what he was going to do to you this coming week. It wasn’t hard to imagine him running through the door, swim shorts low on his waist and that wild look in his eyes that you loved. His hand would yank you towards him, rushing to pull down his shorts, skin still damp. How he’d either bury his face between your legs or thrust his long fingers inside you.

You went with his fingers, trying desperately to recreate the feeling with two of your own, but whining in frustration when you couldn’t reach the pleasant depths he could. You settled for rubbing your clit, slow circles as you imagined how he’d finger you. 

Starting with one. He’d sink one into you, curling it up to stroke over your g-spot, having your body jerk in response. How he’d nip at your neck and shoulders. Or maybe move down, leave marks all over your breasts as he growled about how good they’d look full of milk for his baby that he was going to put in you.

One of your hands came up to pinch at your nipple, playing with it as you increased the pace of your fingers on your clit. 

Yunho never stuck with one finger for long, usually sliding in a second or even jumping straight to three quickly. He’d made you cum on his fingers countless times, but both of you preferred when you came on his dick. 

You were so lost in the sensation of your hand grasping at your breast, the circles you were tracing on your clit, and the fantasies playing in your mind that the feeling of two long fingers sliding into you made you gasp and jerk upright. The sight of your husband smirking at you as he slid his fingers back and forth inside you had you crying out his name. When he got back you weren’t sure, but damn were you happy to see him. Almost as happy as he was to see you, judging by the tent in his swim shorts. 

Yunho’s brown hair was damp, hanging across his forehead as his eyes scanned your body. It was as if his eyes didn’t know where to focus. On your face, mouth open as gasping his name, or his fingers, swallowed whole by your soaking pussy, or your hand grabbing desperately at your breast.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” His voice was low, almost gravely as he scissored his fingers inside you. 

“You, Yunho,” you choked out as his smirk widened.

“What about me, love?” His fingers quicked upwards again and you choked on your next words.

Taking a deep breath you looked him in the eye. “Your dick in me, fucking me. Cumming in me. Being filled with your cum and knowing it’s knocking me up as we go round after round after round.”

His movements stopped as he froze, staring at you with wide, wild eyes. His stillness seemed to last an eternity before he was jumping up, yanking his shorts down, and thrusting into you as fast as he could.

You gasped, head thrown back as he buried himself into you, leaning over your frame to growl in your ear. “I don’t care that we’re in a beautiful place like this, you’re not leaving this suite all week.”

His hips started snapping into yours, one of his hands reaching up to knock your hand away to grab your breast causing your hands to grip onto his broad shoulders. “You’re going to be pregnant by the time we go home, I’ll be sure of it. I’m going to fuck you over every horizontal surface I can, maybe against the walls, who knows. But I’ll be damned if I let you out of my sight or off my cock.”

Yunho’s words had your eyes rolling back into your head. Your trembling hands raked scratches down his back as he kept talking in your ear while he moved his hips expertly, reaching the deepest parts of you. “I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum you’ll have no choice but to get pregnant. And you’re not going to waste a single drop.” 

One of his hands came up to grasp your jaw, tilting your head so you had no choice but to stare at him as he fucked you as hard as he could. “You’re not leaving until I’ve emptied every load I possibly can into that hungry little cunt of yours.”

His hand on your jaw migrated down to rub his fingers over your clit. His movements combined with his filthy words and incredibly precise thrusts had you hovering just on the brink of your first orgasm of what were sure to be many if you believed what your husband was saying. And you did. 

“You’re gonna cum for me. Then, I’m going to keep fucking you until it’s lunch time. Don’t think you’re off the hook, though. You’re going to sit on my dick while I feed you lunch like the little princess you are,” his hips were moving at what felt like an inhuman speed. They were slamming to yours as you whimpered and clung to him for dear life. His voice was nothing more than a growl when he spoke next. “Now cum.”

And you did. Hard. It left you gasping for air. You knew your nails were digging into his back hard, but he’d always liked a little pain. His groans were breathy as you tightened around him, lost in your own pleasure while he pushed forward, chasing his. 

When you started squirming away from his fingers still on your clit, he moved them away, grabbing your waist instead. He pushed his body up and away from yours to sit up on his knees, using his hold on you to angle your hips up. Then, he really went to town. If you had thought his pace before was brutal, this was worse. But in the best way possible.

Yunho’s hips were battering into yours, his dick rubbing against your walls causing you to cry out. You were chanting his name, clutching at the bed sheets as you took everything he gave you.

“Fuck, Y/n, baby,” he panted, sweat dripping from his brow as he tossed his head back. You nearly fainted as you looked down to where the two of you were joined, only to have your view obstructed by the sight of your lower abdomen bulging slightly with every one of his thrusts into you.

The strangled moan you let out was anything but graceful, although it drew his attention to where your gaze was. The noise that left him at that sight was almost as bad. As soon as he saw the bulge he was cumming.

“God, fuck, fuck Y/n,” Yunho’s hips jerked, his grip on you tightening as he came. You could feel him, wet and warm inside you and you gasped out another moan, panting his name.

Yunho fell forward when he was done cumming, covering your frame with his as his lips met yours in a lazy kiss. The two of you stayed like that for a while, lips and hips connected as you simply held each other, appreciating the closeness and intimacy. 

He eventually parted from you, lifting himself up to slowly ease out of you. Both of you winced at the friction when he moved, still a little oversensitive from your orgasms before.

You couldn't help but giggle as Yunho immediately lifted your hips, shoving a pillow under your ass to make sure none of his release dripped out onto the sheets. He was still settled between your spread legs, slowly stroking the skin of your thighs.

“Don’t laugh,” he pouted as he crossed his arms and pretended to glare down at you. “We have a mission here.”

Now you were really laughing hard. Your laughter was abruptly choked off when Yunho’s long fingers connected with your pussy, dragging up the length to collect some of his cum that had leaked out of you. He gathered it on his fingers before sliding them inside you.

It was his turn to chuckle, smirking down at you. “Gotta make sure that stays where it belongs.” 

You were panting again. Yunho was steadily scooping up any of his cum that was leaking out of you and pushing it back in. On every push in he made sure to stroke his fingers along your walls, tutting disapprovingly when you clenched around him at the feeling and consequently caused more cum to drip out. 

Yunho’s eyes were fixed on you, watching every twitch of your limbs and the rapid rise and fall of your chest with dark eyes. His tongue came out to wet his lips as he shoved more and more of his cum inside you, pausing to wipe the remnants off his dick that was nearly fully hard again. 

Something in him seemed to crack because in a heartbeat he was flipping you around onto your stomach and lifting your hips in the air. He gave you no more warning before lining up and slamming into you.

You gasped at the intrusion. Yunho was pistoning in and out of you, holding your waist to keep you steady as he watched his dick bury inside of you over and over.

“You take me so well, Y/n,” one of his hands shot out to wind its way into your hair. He tugged and used his new grip as more leverage to slam you back on him. “Always so ready for more of my cum. Can’t wait to see the baby I put in you.”

Your mouth was open, your eyes closed, and moans joining the sound of his grunts and slapping skin. Yunho’s thrusts were literally punching the air out of your lungs with every inward thrust. 

Yunho pulled harder on your hair, dragging your body up to lean against his. He sat back on his heels, bouncing you up and down to meet his thrusts. His hand in your hair moved to hold you by the throat while the other settled over your stomach.

His lips were pressed to your ear when he spoke. “Look, baby, look at us.”

Your eyes opened, and a breathless moan made its way out of your mouth at the sight before you. The mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed was facing you, giving you a fantastic view of your body cradled by Yunho’s bigger one. Your hair was a mess and you looked positively fucked out.

“Yunho!” you cried, hands scrabbling to hold onto him behind you.

“Cum,” he growled, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Cum and I’ll put a baby in you. Do it for me, Y/n.”

Your hands came up to hold his forearm as his hand gripped your throat harder. It was impossible to control the spasming of your body as you shuddered through another orgasm. It rocked you. The only thing keeping you from falling face first into the bed was Yunho’s tight hold on you. 

Your whole body shook, eyes closing as you came. Yunho kept thrusting through it, pushing and pulling you hard onto his dick as he chased his own orgasm. 

He reached it with a gasp of your name. His hips jerked while his hands held you down on him, keeping your body locked as close to his as he could.

As you both came down slowly, Yunho moved his hand from your throat to wrap around you, making sure to keep you upright before he shifted to lay both of you down on the bedspread. His dick stayed inside you while he held you to him. 

He laid kisses against your hair and cheek while you caught your breath. Yunho gave a soft, satisfied sigh as his left hand brushed over yours, fiddling with your wedding ring.

The two of you laid there, content to just cuddle. At least, until there was a knock at the suite door, a muffled voice calling out ‘room service’.

Yunho gave you a wicked smile as he pulled out to throw on clothes. As he was headed out of the bedroom he turned to glance at you. 

“I meant what I said earlier about brunch, baby.”

There was no way you could sit still. Yunho had you on his lap, back against his chest as he fed you pieces of fruit. Everytime he lifted a piece to your lips, he let his fingers linger there for you to lick clean once you had swallowed. 

Both of you were still naked and sweaty from the two intense rounds from before the food had been delivered. Yunho had kept his promise, immediately lifting you to sheath his cock inside you once he’d retrieved the cart from the hotel staff. From there he had tortured you with small bites of pancakes and bacon and fresh fruit that had been included in the ‘Honeymoon Brunch’ set that Yunho had ordered for your first morning in paradise.

Every shift of your hips was punished with a smack to the inside of your thighs, spread wide over his. The little punishment he doled out didn’t really work. The sharp sting of every slap quickly faded into pleasure quickly and had you tightening around him and squirming even more.

“Keep. Still.” Yunho’s words were growled against your ear as he pulled your head back by your hair to rest on his shoulder. You could only nod, your breathing ragged as your back arching only further added to the pressure building inside you. 

He seemed satisfied enough with your nonverbal answer. From your position, you couldn’t see what he was doing, but it sounded like Yunho was messing with something on the cat before you. It was quickly revealed what he was doing, as his fingers were back to pressing against your lips. Something sticky was dripping from them and the taste of maple syrup exploded in your mouth as you enveloped his middle and index finger.

Hopefully, if you could rile him up enough, he’d go back to fucking you instead of just keeping you stuck on his cock. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, sucking enthusiastically and putting on a show. His eyes were fixated on your mouth, watching intently as your lips pursed around his long fingers.

When the taste of the syrup faded and Yunho seemed satisfied with your cleaning job, he withdrew them. He glided the tips of those two fingers down the center of your body, over your throat, then your sternum, and down your stomach. The light, damp touches had your body twitching at the sensation. 

The only sound that could be heard after Yunho removed his fingers from your mouth was your panting. Until his fingers made contact with your clit and you released a half-squeak half-moan noise into the still air. His hand in your hair shifted to hold you by the throat as his hips started slowly grinding against yours, his fingers on your clit rubbing small, soft circles. 

Yunho’s movements were unhurried, almost leisurely. Nothing about them seemed to acknowledge or care about the steady level of arousal he had kept you at for nearly an hour or the burning need to get off that you could feel rising with every perfectly aimed swipe of his fingers.

“Do you like it when I hold you here?” Yunho’s lips were brushing the shell of your ear, voice rough as his fingers tightened against your throat. “Do you like it when I make you wait for a good fucking? Like how I can just use you to keep my dick warm?”

With every word he muttered into your ear, his fingers increased the pressure and speed at which they were circling your clit. Your orgasm felt so close but just out of reach. His words and his movements had your breath hitching on every other inhale. Tiny gasps and whines were leaking out of your open mouth in time with the rhythm of his fingers on you.

Just when it felt like you might go crashing over the edge and cum, Yunho stopped all movement. His hips froze their grinding and his fingers lifted off you.

A jilted noise of confusion left your lips as you tried to circle your hips, chasing the orgasm you had been so close to reaching. Yunho slapped the inside of your thigh again, growling out, “be patient.”

You stilled as he shoved the cart filled with the remains of your brunch away. His hand around your throat shifted to press against your sternum as his other grabbed your thigh. With ease, he stood, carrying you with him all the while keeping you impaled on his dick as your hands grabbed at his arms to hold on. Yunho walked forwards quickly.

“Yunho, what-” your sentence was cut off as your husband pushed your front against the closest wall, letting your dangling leg touch the floor, but only the balls of your feet. He kept hold of your other leg, hitching it high to give him better access. His hand on your sternum moved to grip your hip tightly as he started thrusting. 

After being tortured with feeling his huge length in you for so long but having him not moving, his first thrust felt so good it nearly brought tears to your eyes. His second thrust did actually have you crying when he pushed inside as far as he could. Your eyes rolled back as a few tears trickled down your cheeks. 

“Just be good and hold still,” Yunho grunted as he settled into a rhythm of slow withdrawals and quick thrusts back in. You were trying, but it became harder and harder to balance as your mind slowly became foggy from the pleasure you were feeling. 

Your leg was trembling, trying desperately to stabilize you. The more force Yunho put into his movements, the harder you shook and the harder following his instructions became. It took all of your concentration, drawing your attention away from the sensations of having Yunho inside you and the sounds of his grunts mixed with the sweet praise he was muttering into your ear. 

That’s why Yunho suddenly pushing himself as hard as he could as he came inside you again caught you off guard. Your leg gave out and Yunho rushed to grab onto you to stop both of you from suffering a hard fall. He succeeded in wrapping a firm arm around your waist, clutching you to him as he rode out the last waves of his orgasm. Your own was so close, just around the corner, but your weak legs and the feeling of Yunho softening slowly inside you was chasing it off.

“Are you ok, love?” Yunho was breathing hard. He slowly lifted you as gingerly as possible to slip out. Your head tipped back as he just as carefully set your feet back on the ground. Breathing heavily with your eyes closed, you nodded. His arms stayed wrapped around you as he placed a kiss on your hair.

“Ok, let’s go back to bed, ok baby?”

You nodded again, opening your eyes and letting Yunho guide you back to the heavily soft king bed. The desire to fall back asleep was creeping upon you, fighting the need to cum again. 

As you flopped rather ungracefully back on the bed, Yunho chuckled, watching as you wiggled your way to the center of the bed. You shifted, trying to get comfortable before settling on your side, facing him with your thighs pressed together, trying to ease the arousal you felt still.

Yunho looked incredible, still standing at the edge of the bed. His dick had gone soft, but the view of his strong legs and hips leading up to his lean and lithe torso with his wide shoulders was beautiful. The look on his handsome face was so fond, your heart skipped a beat. Those loving eyes were sweeping over you, naked in the middle of the messy white sheets. 

His eyes stopped, focussing in on where your thighs were pushing together, rubbing together ever so slightly. A grin started to form on his face as he slowly crawled into the bed, making his way to your prone figure. As he settled on his side facing you, one of his huge hands reached out, separating your thighs and pulling the top one to rest over his hip.

“Aww is my baby still needy?” His hand on your thigh started making its way over your legs until he was grasping your ass. 

“Don't patronize me,” you grumbled while still readjusting your leg high on his hip. 

“My bad, love,” the stupid smirk on Yunho’s face didn’t fade as his fingers curled around your ass to brush gently against where his cum was starting to leak out of you. You shivered as the simple feeling brought pleasant jolts to your increasingly oversensitive body. He leaned forward, laying kisses and sucking hickies across your throat.

“So what do you want? My mouth or my fingers? Or maybe my thigh?” Yunho’s words were uttered against your throat, his voice rumbling through you as he teasingly flexed his leg under yours. As tempting as the offer of using his muscular thigh to get off was, it was no match for his long graceful fingers or his wicked tongue.

“Fingers and mouth,” your words were breathy as he took your earlobe between his teeth. Yunho was leaning so far over you to reach your ear, he was practically pushing you onto your back.

“Anything for you, my love,” Yunho fully pushed you onto your back, letting his hand switch to your front. His mouth was still working over your neck and collarbones as his fingers began to softly trail between your legs, letting them just barely dip inside you before circling your clit as lightly as possible. 

Your legs were twitching and your teeth were pressing hard into your bottom lip. Every brush of his fingers as they lightly repeated their journey had you embarrassingly close to the edge already. Yunho’s lips moving towards your heaving breasts didn’t help, either.

Suddenly, your back was arching violently as several sensations shot through you all at once. Yunho’s teeth sunk into the top of your breast, just hard enough to send painful pleasure through you. At the same time, two of his fingers had thrust themselves deep inside of you as the palm of his hand pressed into your clit.

After waiting for so long, two thrusts of his long and lean fingers had you crumbling into a long overdue orgasm. The sensation was all consuming, rolling across you in waves. Vaguely, you were aware of the gasping moans you were releasing and the way your legs were shaking, clenched together and squeezing his hand. 

The ringing in your ears as you came down faded, allowing you to hear Yunho’s soft chuckle as his fingers continued to gently move inside you. “I didn’t even get to use my mouth, baby.”

“Too bad,” your words were breathy as your body sagged back into the sheets, muscles relaxing one by one.

“I think you have one more in you,” Yunho looked down right evil, with a dark look in his eyes and a devilishly handsome smirk on his face.

A whimper left your lips as his shoulders pushed aside your thighs so he could settle between them. Sparing a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table, it revealed it was only 12:39. There were still 5 days left of your honeymoon and Yunho was clearly planning on killing you before you made it home.

Yunho had relented after one more world rocking orgasm via his mouth, allowing both of you to take a much needed nap. Unfortunately, that nap was cut short when he gently shook you awake around 3 pm.

“Come on, love. If you nap any longer you won’t sleep well tonight. Time to get out of bed,” despite his words, your husband hadn’t risen, still spooning you with an arm wrapped possessively around your waist.

“Let me sleep,” your words were slow and slurred with sleep. “I’m sure you’ll tire me out in time for bed.”

Yunho didn’t reply, instead choosing to run his hand gently across your side for a few moments. It didn’t take long for what you had assumed to be a soothing gesture to wake you up to turn into torture. His fingers dug into your side, tickling you until you were yelling as laughing, rolling across the bed to get away from him. 

Making it to the edge, you stood, pushing yourself to flee. You didn’t make it far, though. His arms quickly wrapped around you, yanking you back into his chest as he held you against him.

“See? Wasn’t so bad to get out of bed,” he punctuated his words with a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re evil,” you mumbled even as you leaned back into him. “I’m filing for divorce.”

“I don’t think ‘he tickled me’ is a good reason for divorce,” he laughed.

You didn’t give him a real response, instead grumbling something along the lines of ‘fucking bastard’ which only made him laugh harder.

“Stop threatening me, let's go swimming!” Yunho released you, moving across the room to rifle through his suitcase, searching for trunks. As he bent over, you couldn’t help the urge to slap his still naked ass as you moved past.

“Hey!” He jolted upright, throwing a still folded pair of socks at you. “My poor ass!”

“Shouldn’t have bent over,” you shrugged, grabbing the closest suit, sliding on the  side tie bottoms as you bit your lip to contain your laughter.

“You’re asking to be tickled again,” Yunho’s eyes were narrowed as he watched you tie the bikini top into place. 

“Tickle me again and you’re not getting your dick wet for at least 3 days,” your own eyes narrowed, staring him down and daring him to try anything. 

He relented, shaking his head with a laugh and finally pulling on his shorts. “Fine, fine, no tickling,” striding towards you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned down to kiss you. You met the gentle touch of his lips with your own, allowing  your hands to creep up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “Let’s go swim, the private pool is incredible.”

Yunho separated from you, snagging your hand and dragging you towards the small villa's patio. 

The place was gorgeous, still attached to the main resort, but far enough away with high walls to give the allusion of being alone on an island. The private pool and deck were hemmed in by said walls and the backside of the villa itself, but still provided a wonderful view of the clear blue sea beyond the edge, including the beach that was open to the public. It was unoccupied, being so far from the main resort beach, the only people you had seen so far had been couples taking a walk or inhabitants from villas nearby who were making use of a less crowded area. 

On the deck, there were a few lounging chairs, a table with two normal chairs, and a rather large and deep pool only accessible to you and Yunho. This was where he had been habitually swimming laps in the mornings since you’d arrived. According to him, it was a way to exercise that didn’t involve fucking you against the nearest surface, which he had also been doing daily.

As Yunho pulled you through the sliding glass door into the humid air outside, he dropped your hand crossing the distance to the pool quickly. He jumped, cannonballing into the previously calm water. Unhurriedly, you walked towards the edge, sitting down and letting your legs dip into the cool water which was still sloshing about.

You watched fondly as Yunho finally came up from underwater. At this depth, the water only came up to his chest, decorating his shoulders and upper arms in lovely little droplets. His hair was wet and his biceps flexed deliciously as he pushed it back out of his face.

Lost in staring at him, it took you a moment to catch onto the salacious smile starting to appear on his lips.

“Yunho, no,” you tried to warn as he walked towards you through the water. As he approached where you were sitting, the water became shallower until he was just slightly taller than you where you sat. Both of his hands were situated on the wood beside your thighs, his face dangerously close to yours. “We’re in public.”

“Barely,” his head dipped to ghost his lips over your jugular. Instinctively, your head tilted back to give him room. You could feel his smile as he dotted wet kisses across your neck. “What happened to my adventurous little girlfriend who would let me fuck her brains out in her  university parking lot for lunch.”

You shivered as he sucked a bruise into a sensitive spot below your ear. Your hand came up and laced through his dripping wet hair. It was only slightly audible how much his words and actions were affecting you when you spoke. “She grew up and got married.”

“Mmm, that’s right. She got married,” his head rose and his lips captured yours. This kiss was intense, his tongue immediately swiping over your lips and pushing its way into your mouth. Your hand tightened in his hair causing him to groan. Yunho's hands moved to grip your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the pool so the seat of your swimsuit pressed into his quickly swelling length.

With a gasp, your head jerked away from his. “Any chance I can convince you to go fuck me in the shower instead?”

“We’ve already fucked in the shower. Why not try out a new location?”

With a sigh, you acquiesced. The chance of people seeing or hearing you from the beach was nerve wracking, but the idea sent a shiver of arousal down your spine. “Fine, fine, go deeper.”

Yunho smirked, his hands on your ass pulling you off the edge and deeper into the water. “With pleasure.”

He guided your legs around his waist and hands up to his shoulders as he walked the two of you farther into the pool until only your heads were free. Yunho’s lips attached to your neck again as his hands reached up to untie your bikini. After undoing the bows you had tied before, he pulled both pieces off you and let your top and bottoms float away. 

Yunho pressed you against the wall with your back facing the villa. The position gave you a beautiful view of the beach and ocean and the young couple walking along the shore.

Your hand grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him back. “Yunho, Yunho there’s people on the beach.”

He hummed, lifting his head to smile slyly at you. “Then you better be quiet.”

 You rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to retort, but were interrupted with your own gasp as two of his fingers slipped inside you. Unsurprisingly, you were already wet for him, although you were pretty sure it was a combination of your own wetness and his cum from before. As his fingers started to stroke and scissor inside you, all you could focus on was the couple walking past, even though they were a few hundred feet away and not looking towards you.

Yunho’s mouth was at your ear as he tried to bring your attention back to him. “I don’t think fucking in a pool is the best way to knock you up, so I guess we’ll have to get out and fuck on the deck.”

He made to lift you up, but your hand in his hair yanked hard. He groaned and involuntarily thrust his hips into yours.

“Don’t you dare take me out of this pool Jeong Yunho,” your eyes were wide and your tone was scathing. Until the very end of your sentence, at least. As you said his name he stroked your g spot causing your words to become breathy. “You can try your best to get me pregnant later. Now, I need you to just fuck me here.”

“Oh?” His naughty grin was back. “Why the change of heart about the location, love?”

With another eye roll and a pull of his hair, you ground forward against him. “You’re the one who desperately wanted to fuck in the pool, I’m just giving my husband what he asked for. Plus,” your own grin matched his, “maybe I do miss getting railed in public sometimes.”

He groaned again before crushing his mouth to yours. 

Yunho’s fingers pulled out of you quickly, fumbling to push down his own shorts. His tongue was tangling with yours and his own hand came up to grasp your hair in his large hand. Your hand released his locks, instead grabbing the back of his neck.

“Ready love?”

“Hurry up!”

He chuckled and angled his hips so he could push in slowly. Your head dropped back against the edge of the pool as the pleasurable feeling of being connected to Yunho in the best way possible filled you. 

His thrusts were much slower in the water than they would be outside of it, but he still reached pleasantly deep inside you, only stoking the fire that was building in your gut. 

Yunho’s hands were roaming everywhere since the combination of the water and your limbs wrapped around him didn’t make it necessary for him to carry you. You noticed, rather quickly, that his favorite parts of you for him to rest his hands were on your lower stomach and your breasts.

As his thrusts grew in power, every one had you biting down harder on your lip to keep quiet. You could see over Yunho’s shoulder that the couple were long gone, but you couldn’t help but try to silence yourself.

Yunho, seemingly knowing exactly why you were being quiet, started targeting each of his thrusts to hit your g-spot, his hips pausing to grind his pubic bone against your clit on every thrust up. It was all starting to be too much. The constant onslaught of pleasure combined with the exhilarating rush of doing this all outside within view and earshot of anyone who wandered by was pushing you so close to the edge.

“Cum,” Yunho’s low, gravely voice in your ear had you whimpering. “I want you to cum out here, for anyone to see. Come on, slut,” each of his sentences was punctuated with a powerful thrust inside you. His left hand came up to wrap around your throat and his right migrated down to draw circles around your clit. 

The cold metal of his wedding band against your throat, the pressure he was putting on the blood supply to your brain, his filthy words, and his fingers on your clit were too much. 

It all propelled you into an overwhelming orgasm. The feeling washed over you, lighting up your body and causing your inner muscles to squeeze in time with the waves around his dick. Yunho didn’t stop his thrusts, although he did lose his rhythm, hips stuttering as his orgasm hit him as well.

Both of you rode out the sensations, panting and clinging to each other, letting the water cool your flushed skin. It was so easy to get lost in the feeling of being close to him, losing yourself in the intimacy of just holding each other.

[godlizzza]

hihihihi! i love your spider-dan au and (sorry if i sent an ask about this i can't remember if i did) but can u write a danbert spider-man kiss scene :3

Herbert stumbled as Dan set him back down on his feet. In the pouring rain his dress shoes slipped on the slick road and Dan had to reach out to catch his arm and keep him upright. Herbert glanced at him and muttered his thanks before gently drawing away. Dan was reluctant to let him go. The scene they'd just fled from had been utter chaos, Hilltop robots in pieces around a massive sinkhole in the road. Dan had watched Herbert nearly pitch over into that gaping hole, a line of his webbing the only thing keeping him on his feet.

Dan swore he'd nearly fainted from the painful swoop his heart had taken to the pit of his stomach at the sight. He was becoming more and more aware just how attached his health was to the continued safety of the scientist he was meant to have a strictly working relationship with.

"Are you sure we should have left?" Herbert asked, pulling his soaked coat tighter around his shivering shoulders.

Dan wanted to go to him, pull him into his arms and warm him up with his superhuman body heat. He resisted the urge though, balling his fists at his sides and keeping himself still.

"It wouldn't have done any good for me to be there when the cops showed up," he replied, imagining Lt. Chapman's surly face scanning the wreckage, looking for any opportunity to blame the whole thing on Funnel Web.

Herbert sighed, his breath emerging from his lips in a puff of steam in the cold air. "I suppose you're right."

Dan itched to say more, do something, but he couldn't say or do what he really wanted, so he just turned away. He shot a webline at the wall of the alleyway high above and pulled his feet off the ground.

"I should go."

"Wait-"

The sudden desperate plea had Dan freezing midair, paused as he'd been ready to swing away. Instead, he turned, hanging upside-down from the string of webbing to face Herbert, who slowly paced towards him through the rain. He only stopped when he was mere inches from Dan's face, his eyebrows drawn together as his gaze flicked all over across Dan's mask. Those quizzical eyes stared into his, full of questions and emotion that Dan couldn't read.

"I have to know," Herbert began, his voice shaky and hard to hear over the pouring rain. "Do we know each other?"

Dan sucked in a breath, his whole body instantly tense as a bowstring. Herbert had never dug at his identity before, past some idle questions when they'd first met as Funnel Web and Dr. West.

"You know I can't tell you that," Dan murmured.

He couldn't tell Herbert that they'd gone to med school together, that Dan had been bitten by the spider that gave him his powers in his final year. That all those instances where Dan had been forced to race out of class, earning him odd looks from Herbert had been a result of him growing into his hero persona, rushing off to danger. He couldn't say that even now that they had become acquainted through his hero work that they still ran into each other at a coffee shop they both frequented as civilians. Every time Dan saw Herbert in line, waiting to order his oat milk latte, he had to pretend they hadn't just escaped a death-defying experience the previous day.

He couldn't tell Herbert it killed him to keep his distance as Dan Cain.

Herbert frowned at him but didn't seem surprised. The lenses of his glasses were fogging up from his own breath and the heat emanating off Dan's body.

"I just can't believe," Herbert said softly, reaching up to trace the seam of Dan's mask beneath his jaw, "that I could know you and not realise. Even though I have no idea what you look like beneath this, I feel as though I could take one look at you and instantly know that's my spider."

Dan inhaled sharply as Herbert's fingers dug beneath the thin fabric of his mask, beginning to peel it back. He shot a hand out to clasp one of Herbert's wrists, stalling the motion.

"Herbert-"

"Don't worry," Herbert soothed, continued to gently tug the mask down until his mouth and nose were exposed, his skin instantly soaked from the rain. Herbert traced the pad of his thumb over Dan's upper lip, leaving shivers that had nothing to do with the cold in his wake. "Maybe I wouldn't know you by sight. But by touch..."

Dan's eyes fluttered shut of their own accord as Herbert leaned forward. He was aware that on the list of bad ideas he'd ever had since becoming Funnel Web, this was probably the worst. It was unwise and completely catastrophic to get involved with someone directly under Hill's thumb. But he couldn't deny the desperate ache he felt for Herbert, his desire to be close to him. And in that moment, suspended in the air, the rain pouring down on them, and the distant wail of police sirens sounding in the air, he couldn't resist that pull any longer.

When Herbert's lips brushed his, all the doubts and worries fled his mind, leaving room only for the sensation of their mouths pressed together. Herbert's hands rose to clutch Dan's face between his palms, his fingers curling under Dan's jaw. Dan had never felt the tip of someone's nose brush his chin as they kissed, but he'd never felt like this kissing anyone before. Like his whole body was being pumped full of electricity, setting his nerves alight. He so deeply wanted to reach out and hold Herbert in return, pull him close until they could be touching everywhere, consumed by the other, but he had to keep his grip on the webbing, lest he tumble to the ground.

Laying in a heap at Herbert's feet sounded appropriate. Herbert had thoroughly obliterated him.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but Dan built an eternity in that moment. One he wanted to construct a comfy home in so he could stay there forever. Herbert stepped back, breathing heavily. He kept his hands cradling Dan's face for a moment longer before pulling his mask back into place.

"Alright," Herbert said, sounding as out of breath as Dan felt. "You can go now."

Dan blinked his eyes open, taking in the flush dusting Herbert's pallid cheeks. He wanted to say something but his tongue felt thick and dumb in his mouth. After a few agonising seconds of the two of them just staring at each other, Dan shook himself out of his stupor and adjusted his hold on the webbing.

"Right," he said, drinking in the sight of Herbert's slick lips. "Okay. See you soon."

Then he turned and swung away, leaving Herbert on the trash-strewn ground. That tingling pulse of static electricity pounded through his veins as he swung through the city. It didn't leave him until he scaled the wall of his apartment and slipped through the window, where he promptly rolled into a starfish position on the floor. He pulled his mask off and brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth.

Herbert had tasted like mint and coffee. It was Dan's new favourite taste.