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ilguna · 1 year ago

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Can you do finnick with the number 13 ?

☼ too close pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing,

wc; 2.6k

prompt; 13. fake engagement au

notes; made this a modern au as well. also, too close by alex clare was the first thing that popped in my head... but it’s not a songfic!!

part two.

At this point, you think that setting yourself on fire and standing still while the skin melts off your body would be less painful than the conversation you’re having with Finnick, Annie and her boyfriend, Rain. At least then, Finnick might pay attention to you.

In the past fifteen minutes, you don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of her once. He won’t even look in your direction when you speak. It’s like she’s the center of his room, all the time. You thought that when they broke up a year back, he’d change, figure out the world doesn’t revolve around her.

He can find other things—other people to invest in.

You didn’t realize just how much he loved her, especially when he was so casual about it. He wasn’t compelled to spend every waking moment with her. They’d make plans, of course, but it wasn’t as frequent as it could’ve been. In fact, he spent more of his time with you.

It has something to do with how long the two of you have been friends. Ever since you’ve graduated high school, there’s never been a time where either of you have gone somewhere and the other didn’t follow. If there’s a pair of people on this dying planet that are attached at the hip, it’d be you two.

While you thought Finnick would be hurt when Annie broke up with him, you were under the impression that it wouldn’t bother him much. Not with how sparsely they’d been seeing each other in the weeks leading up to it. It was partially his fault, because he stopped making time with her, but that happened because she’d shoot down every attempt.

And then she did it. Finnick told you that she showed up at his apartment, on an evening where they’d planned to have dinner, wanting to talk. She started by telling Finnick that he was amazing, and the best boyfriend she could’ve asked for, but they didn’t share the same interests, and she needed someone who was more like her.

She wanted to see other people, and she couldn’t find herself committing her life to Finnick, knowing that they weren’t a perfect match. It was harsh, and brave of her. Personally, you think that it was a stupid decision, because they’d been together for over a year and a half.

She didn’t give Finnick any room to talk, canceled the dinner, and left.

The next time they saw each other, you were asked to be there as a mediator, per Annie’s request. It was a little odd, because she knows full well that you care more about Finnick than her. Though, over the time of them dating, you’ve grown to be better friends with her.

You felt a little bad for Finnick, but with how long you’ve been rooting for their downfall, it was like your prayers were answers.

Finnick’s reaction to the whole ordeal took you off-guard. You knew that he’d need recovery time, you just thought that he’d bounce back after a month or so. That’s what he’s done with his girlfriends in the past, you had no reason to believe that this time would be different.

Well, she rocked his world, hard.

And it’s clear that it was selfish of you to think that you could pounce on him. That’s why you were punished about three months later. When Finnick came to you in the middle of the night, sobbing because Annie had announced a new relationship. It tore you to pieces, listening to his feelings, how he thought she didn’t wait long enough.

The next morning, you found him wide awake on your couch, eyes puffy, bags beneath them. You opened your mouth to ask him if he’d even slept, when he told you that he’d come up with a plan, and he needed your help.

He wanted to make Annie jealous enough to leave her new boyfriend, Rain. The issue is that she’d never had a problem with any of his girl friends before. Except you. He said that there had been a few times where she mentioned how she wished she had a better connection with him, like you have.

The more he spoke, the worse it got. And when he asked if you’d be his fiance, you couldn’t help the way you looked at him. It was nothing close to adoration, it was resentment, because you’ve dreamed of him asking you plenty of times before. In those fantasies, you were actually together because he loved you. Not because he couldn’t live without another girl.

You knew he was desperate, he’d mentioned it before. You never thought that he’d ask you to do something like this. You were sure it was a joke, one that you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh at because you were too stunned to move. When he looked at you and you saw the expression on his face, you realized that you’d given him more credit than he deserved.

Finnick begged you for an hour straight, telling you that he couldn’t trust anyone else to do something like this for him. You’ve been best friends since you were teenagers, you knew that he wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important to him. When you didn’t agree by the time he left, he told you to think about it.

And it ate you up inside. Every last word of his. The look on his face. The years you’ve been waiting for an opportunity. And so, you stupidly thought to yourself, “Well, maybe this is how I get a foot in the door.”

You texted him later on the next day, thinking that this pretend engagement couldn’t possibly last longer than a month. If Annie had a scrap of love left for Finnick, and as much jealousy as he was saying she did, she’d come back. It wouldn’t be immediate, but she’d come and prove that he was still hers, even if they weren’t together.

When Finnick told Annie that he’d gotten engaged to you, after discovering a slumbering love, she had the opposite reaction than what you thought she would. The smile that spread over her face lit up her eyes, she was genuinely happy for the two of you.

You knew from that moment forward, it would be like swallowing poison everyday, because you’d have to lay it on thick in order to convince her. A part of you didn’t believe her happiness. It had been three months and a week since she and Finnick broke up, and you were suddenly engaged to him? With no prior mention of the two of you dating?

If you were her, you think you’d be more worried about him cheating the entire time, because that could explain the quick ring. Finnick thought of that, too, telling her that the two of you have been around each other so long that you skipped the dating stage.

Stupid.

You wanted to do this for him, though. You wanted to still be the person he could trust the most, afraid that he’d pull away if you denied this request.

And so long for sticking your foot in the door, because eight months later, he hasn’t shown an ounce of affection toward you. He’s stuck on Annie, and that’s where he’s going to stay, because she’s not budging, either.

“So, (Y/n), have you decided what season you want to get married in?” Annie asks, she’s got her eyebrows raised, looking at you between the pasta on her face.

You give her a smile, even though you’re growing tired of the questions about the wedding. You have to come up with reasonable answers that you’ll have to write down later to keep from forgetting. She’s caught you a few times.

“We were thinking about spring.” You tell her, reaching over to place your hand on top of Finnick’s, trying to make it convincing. “Isn’t that right, Finn?”

Finnick turns his attention to you, finally, gazing into your eyes with a dimpled smile. If you didn’t know that this was for show, you’d say that there’s something more between you than just air.

“New love and all.” He murmurs, fixing your hands so he can hold yours to squeeze it.

A flurry of butterflies rise in your stomach, swirling around your heart.

“Spring?” Annie echoes, a little surprised. Despite wanting to stay here forever, you tear your eyes from his to look at her. “I’ve always said that’s the perfect season to have a wedding.”

I know, you want to tell her, because Finnick told me.

“Really?” You ask. “Well, I hope there’s no hard feelings if we use it first?” You ask.

“Of course not.” She waves her hand, “I wouldn’t want to come between the two of you.”

Finnick’s hand loosens around yours, something you were prepared for.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n),” Rain starts, “Is there any way we could take some of this home? It’s getting late.”

“Of course.” You slip your hand from Finnick’s, rising to your feet. “I have the rest in the kitchen, if you want to come and tell me how much you’d like.”

“That sounds amazing.” He nods, leaning over to press a kiss to Annie’s lips, before getting to his feet, too.

You glance at Finnick, hoping that he’s looking at you. He’s not, his attention is completely set on Annie. You place a hand on his shoulder while you move around your chair, causing him to reach up to grab your fingers. Almost a natural reaction, if it wasn’t planned.

You move your hand before he touches you, heading through the dining room doorway and into the kitchen. The stove is on the far side, the pots and pans still sitting on top. Rain follows behind you, you can hear his footsteps on the tile.

“I’m not really one for leftovers, so please take as much as you’d like.” You tell him, opening one of the bottom cabinets to grab a container. You sit it on the counter, as well as the lid.

“What about Finnick?” He asks, you shake your head, closing the door. “He’s got his own food, at his apartment.”

“That’s right.” Rain says, grabbing the noodle scooper, taking off the lid on the pot. “I forget that the two of you aren’t living together yet.”

“It’s because of his lease.” You shrug. “It’s coming to an end soon, though. We’ve agreed he’ll move into my place.”

Rain lets out a laugh. “I would too, honestly. You’ve got such a nice house. Your parents bought it, right?”

“Yup, and gifted it to me when I moved out here. I was supposed to share it with Finnick in college, but he wanted an apartment so it wouldn’t be weird when he brought girls around.” You tilt your head, looking off to the side.

“Now look at you two.” Rain smiles. “You’ll get to share it, after all.”

“Yeah.” You murmur.

Once he’s loaded the container, and promised that he’ll bring it back to you next week, you two join Annie and Finnick back in the dining room. The second you step inside, you can tell that there’s something goin on, but Rain must be oblivious, because goes to take his coat from the back of his chair.

“Well, thank you for the dinner, (Y/n).” Annie says, joining Rain. “I’m excited to see what you’ll cook next week.”

“If you have any requests, let me know.” You wink at her, she rolls her eyes.

Finnick walks them to the door, while you begin to pick up the plates from the table. You can hear the door shut, and that’s when the air begins to get heavy. With them no longer here, there’s no need to keep up the act. Which means that Finnick will go right back to talking about her.

“I think I had her for a moment.” Finnick says, coming in with armfuls of plates and glasses. “When you went into the kitchen, she told me that she missed me. That was a great idea, (Y/n).”

You bite your tongue, back turned to Finnick as you turn on the sink.

“At this rate, I think she’ll leave him soon. She told me that they’re not as happy as they look.” He sets the dishware next to the sink, pulling out the trash can to scrape away the waste. “I’ll get her back in my arms, soon.”

You lean over the sink, closing your eyes while you take deep breaths. An ache is forming in your throat, tears appearing in your eyes. You grit your teeth, trying to tell your body to knock it off, because now’s not the time to cry. You save it for when Finnick leaves.

This isn’t right, it’s not healthy to be doing this to yourself.

“Then we can go back to normal.” Finnick says, bumping you with his shoulder. “I owe you, (Y/n).”

You back off of the sink, reaching for the engagement ring that’s been passed around his family for generations. The one you thought that would one day belong to you. You grab his wrist, turning his hand over, and placing the ring in his palm. He looks down at it for a second, before at you.

“You know I don’t need this back, I trust you to keep it safe.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” You tell him, throat closing in.

His eyebrows twitch. “No, (Y/n), we’re almost there. Just a few more weeks—”

“I don’t have a few more weeks in me, Finnick! It’s killing me!” You burst, throwing a couple plates into the sink. You shut off the water, walking out of the kitchen, shaking your head. “I just—when I agreed to do this, I thought, ‘this won’t be so bad’. I thought this couldn’t last more than a month, yet here we are, still going.”

“I told you it’d take time.” Finnick says, following after you.

You lead him to the front door, stopping next to it, hand on the handle. “I thought my feelings for you would go away if I gave myself a taste of what I could have.” You admit, Finnick’s face drops, skin paling. “It’s fucking ruined me. I can’t do this with you anymore, because you don’t love me. And I want to throw up my heart each time I see you look at her like that.”

You open the front door, shoving it open. A fall breeze blows through, pushing a few golden leaves into your house.

“(Y/n), why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s written all over you.” You motion at him. “You love Annie, and there’s nothing that I’ve done in the past eight months that have made you change your mind.”

Finnick stares at you, shaking his head.

“Go.”

“If I leave right now, you won’t talk to me ever again.” Finnick tells you. “You said that nothing would change between us if you did this for me. You said it wouldn’t ruin our relationship.”

“I lied.” You tell him. “Now, go.”

He sighs through his nose, “I’m going to come back.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll open my door.” You push his shoulder. “I’m serious, leave.”

He doesn’t say anything else, stepping onto your porch. You take a few steps toward the door, reaching out to grab the handle, face beginning to contort, body having enough. Finnick turns around in time to catch the first tear fall, before you slam the door in his face.

You turn the lock, head dropping as the first sob leaves you.

this was part of my 3k celebration!! also, you didn't specify a list so i went with the mystery list :))

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badlywritten-stuff2 · 19 days ago

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Unwarranted, pt. 2

Back at it again with a part 2. I hope the dialogue isn’t too clunky, because there is a lot of dialogue. Yay!

also some world building? i started writing this before i wrote the headcanons, but i wrote this with the nomad background.

RELATIONSHIP[S]: Implied/pre-Noa x nomad!reader

MEDIA: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Planet of the Apes

WORDS: 2.7k

SUMMARY: You have much to think about, feelings and what not. You tried to work it out in your mind if being closer to Noa and his clan would be feasible, but you’re coming up short of any ideas. To make matters worse, things are tense with Noa after he walks you to the tunnel home

WARNINGS: Angsty, stupid idiots not knowing how to talk to each other, inappropriate thoughts about teeth, some spelling errors I definitely missed, if you squint a little bit of unreliable narrating [only in the beginning], the remnants of jealousy from pt 1

_______________

You packed the rope you’d made into your satchel, finicking with the straps on your horse’s saddle to make sure it was secure on him. You found that, compared to the winter when you had first encountered Noa and his clan, the longer you stayed around this village and they warmed up to you, you had started being invited to have dinner around the communal fire. Now that it was deep in the summer, much of the foods eaten were rich berries and crispy roots and chunks of mouth-watering fish. You think it’s trout.

You’d love to partake in the dinner, especially if it meant you could have a moment of calm to learn more about Noa and his life, but you couldn’t. There were groups of intelligent humans who lived in the wilderness outside of the valley the Eagle Clan lived in, and you were apart of one.

Born and raised, you learned of human history and learned what had happened. It had been so long ago and much of what has been taught was embellished, however the ending was still the same; humanity was sick, you were a dying people. Humans worsened their survival, killing each other in the street for the last bottle of water. Apes took over the planet in droves, quickly outpacing humanity as the dominant life form. Apes flourished as humanity set themselves ablaze, putting your kind on the brink of extinction. At least, that was what you had been told. Most who survived went underground, hiding in ‘bunkers’, locking themselves away from the rest of the world. However, some who were immune stayed above to challenge the new world and they passed on that immunity onto their children. Until one day, you were brought into this world.

Many humans, both above and below, thought Apes were dangerous. That they have usurped the throne humans had, falling an empire who held tight to their power. These were the sentiments your own tribe held. If they knew you went out to see Apes, and talked to them, they’d never let you leave again, or worse.

It was best to leave. For your safety and Noa’s. You wished you could stay but you had to go, the sun was already dipping closer to the mountains and the trip back to your tribe was an hour’s ride by horseback. Breathing in, looking back one more time to look at the roaring fire building in the center of the village before your ride back, you instead came face to face with Noa. He was still approaching, eight to nine feet away but his direction was clear as he made his way to you. You turned to fully face him as he approached.

‘Leaving so soon?’ the corners of his mouth faintly droop, seeing you had finished up your packing.

You nod. ‘Was… just looking back. Before leave’ you wished your ability to sign was less clunky, but you were still learning how their dialect worked.

Noa chuffed in return, ‘sure you can’t stay?’

‘Yes. Sad.’

Noa laughed, a warm sound that felt like it surrounded just you and him. You felt your heartbeat faster as your eyes landed onto his sharp teeth and locked on, a million thoughts of Noa gripping you by your shoulders and sinking his teeth into your—

“Echo leaving is sad. Can… ride with you. To cave.” Noa’s voice pulled you back. You were always filled with a honeyed feeling whenever he spoke, his uncanny voice gentle and sweet. Capable of being stern and cutting, it was enticing.

“You don’t have to Noa, thank you. I can ride by myself just fine.” You responded, turning and reaching to the horn on your horse’s saddle and pulled yourself up. You turned back to say goodbye for the last time to Noa, but before you could say anything he placed his hand on your leg. Your face and neck went up in flames, the area of your leg touched by Noa’s large hand heating up and clawing up your body into the rest of you.

“Noa will…come with you.” He said definitively and before you could recover and decline, he was already walking away. “Wait here, be right back.” You rolled your eyes as his back turned to you. Didn’t even give you a second to make the decision for yourself.

Moments later he returned with his own horse, a lovely rich brown mare, riding up to you with a certain swagger you haven’t noticed until recently. He rides beside you with ease, his horse rubbing her nose against the nose of your horse. He looked into your eyes, and you almost lost yourself in his intense mossy green gaze. You felt a thump squeeze into your throat, your palms suddenly feeling sweaty.

‘Let’s go.’ And with that, you both rode off into the woods towards the tunnel that separated his grove from your dangerous world.

The sun kept moving down, turning the sky darker and darker and revealing the stars glimmering above. You liked being on this side of the valley near where the Eagle Clan resided, even as summer was slowly ending its reign and making way for autumn the trees and surrounding flora was at the peak of flourishing through the last hurrah before settling into colours of gold and rich oranges. The air felt different as well, despite it having no real difference, something about crossing into where you knew Noa lived, that you were breathing in the same air as him elated you. Abundance, that’s what it was. Knowing everything that thrived here was fresh, alive and growing and persisted to grow.

A part of you wanted to bring your own tribe here. It was warm in the summer and the winter was mild. Your people would be happy, you wouldn’t have to move constantly or be on the run, you would be safe. You’d be closer to Noa, you’d be able to see him as often as you wanted, no need to leave early and hurry to ride back. You could stay and learn about his world and he could learn about yours. However, unless you wanted death for both your tribe and Noa’s clan, keeping your ‘hunting trips’ to yourself was for the best.

You glanced at Noa, your irises overcast by your lashes. Noa was looking back at you, but he turned away and focused on his horse’s lead in his hands. You chewed the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the squeeze in your chest.

“So, uh. How was your day?” you keep looking forward, your hands started to feel restless.

“Day was good. How was… yours?” you heard Noa’s voice respond beside you.

A little bit shit. “It was good. Hung out with Soona for most of the day, since you were busy.” You felt bitterness start jabbing against your skin when thinking of earlier in the day. It tainted your voice, your mood turning sour. You had visited Eagle Clan today with the intent to meet with Noa, but his duties as clan leader kept him busy more often than not. This was normal and you understood that he had important responsibilities, but it still made you feel a certain way watching him wrap his hands around the hands of that female ape he was with.

You still hadn’t looked at Noa. “So, who was that female you were talking with earlier? Seems like you and her are close.” You let your eyes drift to your left, watching leaves and twigs go by as your horse walked over them.

“That… was Creek. Older than Noa. Born day after a… new moon.” You listened to his voice, but still didn’t meet his face. “Was working with Creek to fix drying rack… for fish. Noa was needed by another ape, but… rack had to be fixed.”

“Oh. Well, did it go well?”

“Yes. Rack is… holding strong.”

“That’s good.” You turned to Noa, who was looking into the forest ahead of you both. He turned his head and looked at you and met your gaze, his bright eyes staring into yours before you turned your head back forward. You weren’t sure what the moon looked like when you were born, but that particular detail rubbed you the wrong way. Why did he know what the moon looked like when she was born? Why did that matter to him? You turned away.

The silence between you both returned, permeating thickly through the air. Your neck felt tight. “What… were you talking to Soona about?” you turned to look at Noa again, who was already looking at you.

“Just stuff.” You really didn’t want to talk to Noa about what you and Soona talked about. “Trying to weave my rope properly, not much else.”

“Soona told Noa,” damn it, Soona. “you have found… new mate?” his voice tapered at the end, for a reason you weren’t sure you’d be able to pinpoint.

You felt your whole head and neck heat up, your stomach twisted maliciously. Your hands which kept tight around the reins of your horse’s lead had started to become clammy, the material dampening under your moisture. You bit the inside of your cheek more harshly, feeling a twinge of discomfort before feeling iron leak across your tongue which you then dragged over the backs of your teeth. You didn’t want to look at him, but you couldn't help yourself. Through your eyes you witnessed his gaze, he seemed downtrodden. Was it disappointment in his face? You weren’t sure.

“Uh… not exactly.” Your hand went and gripped the back of your neck, the skin and muscle kneading under your touch.

“What does Echo mean by… ‘not... exactly’?”

“I… don’t really wanna talk about it.” You ground your molars, hoping the pressure and friction would ease your growing bitterness. It did not.

Both you and Noa were silent for a beat, turned away from each other again, letting the sounds of the forest fill in your silence. A running stream of water could be heard if you strained hard enough, the leaves of the trees brushed together and small birds sang their songs overhead. Every now and then a small twig would snap under the weight of your horse.

“Maybe, Echo would feel… better? If talked about it with Noa.” Noa broached the subject again, his voice low.

You exhaled sharply, not bothering to look at Noa yet. Underneath the sourness that clogged your consciousness, guilt wriggled into your mind. Having an attitude with Noa wouldn’t ease your feelings, furthermore he barely knew why you were upset. It wasn’t fair to him, but you felt like you were being prodded and pricked with an icy point, you didn’t want to talk to Noa about it because it was about him. You were upset because he has found someone and that someone wasn’t you. Well—maybe. Admittedly you didn’t know anything about this ‘Creek’ individual. But you couldn’t tell him any of that, you’d be out of line.

“You like Creek?” it slipped past your mouth before your mind could approve it. The words came out all wrong, biting and frustrated, radiating nauseating envy. For the sake of your conscience, which would certainly be torn apart by embarrassment, you kept your eyes pointedly on the ears of your horse.

“…Noa likes Creek, yes. Why does Echo ask?” your hands squeezed on the reins.

“You just seemed close to her. I was wondering, since I’ve only talked to Soona and Anaya.” That part was true, you hoped it didn’t sound as maligned as you felt it did.

There was another beat of silence. “Noa doesn’t… talk to Creek, often. But still… friend.”

Yeah, right. Just a friend, sure. You knew you had no right to feel this way, the fact that you did made you want to recoil from yourself. You were acting insecure, like someone cussing out their partner out-of-line, which was amplified by the fact that Noa was not your partner. Your friend, sure… but he would never reciprocate any of the feelings you felt. It was taboo, unheard of, unnatural. He wasn’t human, and you weren’t an ape; maybe it would be different if you were from the same species. You pressed your tongue against your back teeth once again, feeling the muscle bend to the firm enamel. The surface of your cheeks felt inflamed.

“Is Echo upset with Noa?” Noa’s horse made a small noise as he moved to walk closer next to you, your horses touching snouts briefly before returning to face ahead. “Noa is… sorry. If Noa hurt Echo.”

“No, Noa. You didn’t do anything.” You grimaced and turned your head away, you didn’t want him to see your face in case he saw that you were, in fact, getting upset.

“Then why—”

“Noa, I do not want to talk about it please.” You swivelled your face to look at him. You were momentarily taken aback by how close he had become, about 3 or 4 feet away riding next to you. Noa blinked, his mouth slipping down-ward into a sad frown, his eyes holding the same sad confusion. Your eyes stayed on him as you turned your head, you blinked hard before looking back at your horse’s ears.

Noa didn’t say anything to you the rest of the ride, and you didn’t say anything either. The tension between you was palpable, but you both refused to breach and speak again. You felt bad, you wanted to apologize and spill what was making you upset, but you didn’t want him to know anything more about it. You travelled through the woods for an excruciating ten long minutes, before finally arriving at the tunnel that separated your world from Noa’s. You swallowed which irritated the lump stuck in your throat, looking up at the space in between the trees you saw the sky, which had started to turn from purple to a darker navy. You still had about a forty-five minute ride left between here and your tribe’s current settlement; you didn’t exactly like the idea of being out after dark too long, you had to be quick. You grabbed a short wooden pole you kept wedged in your saddlebag along with a small bag which carried two stones and began working on lighting your torch. Noa didn’t say anything as he watched you get your light going, sparks catching on the wrapping before slowly building into a small flame. You sighed, nibbling your lip. You turned to Noa, and only then did he look back to meet your eyes. You wanted to flinch, his green eyes were still vibrant in the dark.

“Ride safe. See you next time.” Was all you managed to say. Noa just looked at you, his expression was hard to interpret. Noa huffed sightly, before faintly smiling at you.

“See you… next time. Ride safe.”

You nodded at him before continuing on your horse, the light of your now lit torch pushing the darkness around you away as you ventured into the tunnel. You turned your head to the side to try and look back at Noa but halted your movement. He probably has already turned around to ride away, regretting his offer to accompany you back to this corridor. You sighed, all the venom your mind clung to vanish with the lowering of your head and falling of your shoulders. You urged your horse faster, changing from a mellow walk to a brisk trot. The faster you returned the better.

Noa watched you ride away, not missing how you stopped your head from turning. He inhaled deeply and let his exhale briskly rush out of him; a feeling he was unfamiliar with was running rampant through his body. He wished you had looked back, that you had spared him one more glance before leaving. Was he disappointed? Yes, yes, he was. But what was he going to do? He had no claim to you, nothing that bound you to him that would compel one more gaze from you. Watching you leave, your silhouette meshing into the dark and the light of your torch slowly fizzling out of view as you went further and further. Go after them, his heart said, but his mind willed his body firmly in place. You were not his, and he couldn’t figure out how to justify going after you. Noa turned his horse around, going back the way you had came to begin his journey back to the village. Maybe next time you visit, Noa can try and straighten things out with you and make things better. He didn’t know when you were coming back.

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woooooo bitterness and jealousy are one hell of a thing, aint they? it so totally sucks that both you and noa are into each other but yall cant seem to figure it out oooooouuuuggghhhh

thank you for readingg<333

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #noa #noa x reader #noa kotpota #x reader #planet of the apes #pota #kotpota x reader #pota x reader

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metaphorfordeath · 20 days ago

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Watch Where You're Going

Two trans people talk about life while one of them finishes her shift at the local video store. 2k words. Originally published in Olit Magazine. Content warning for discussion and depiction of transphobia.

“I’m not necessarily saying it’s a bad movie, I just think it’s in poor taste.”

“What makes you say that?”

Lake flipped the hatch shut on top of the lightbox and took a step back. Lit from behind, the new poster depicted an image of a shimmering red wave the height of a skyscraper looming over a seaside metropolis. The title, printed in screaming orange block letters, read “HEATWAVE.” Then, in smaller letters near the top: “It’s too late to run.”

“I dunno, doesn't it feel a bit tone-deaf to you? Like, people are dying, dude.”

A few steps back, Freddie picked idly at some flaking plastic on one of the DVD cases. “Or is it timely? It's basically commentary on climate change."

“Climate change commentary should probably have fewer explosions and CGI of people being vaporized.”

“Yeah, I guess. I do think the Rock was really good in it, though. Did you watch any of his marketing interviews? He’s basically an activist at this point.”

“Okay, now you’re antagonizing me on purpose.”

“Am I antagonizing you, or am I winning this argument?”

Lake shot them a look as she rolled up the former occupant of the poster display. “If the Rock wants to be a climate activist, then he can get an environmental science degree like the rest of us. Go pick a movie or I’m gonna make you salt the sidewalks.”

“I literally don’t even work here.”

“All the more reason to go pick the movie.”

The store, as usual, was empty. Muted screens flickered movie trailers over the vast expanse of green low-pile carpet, the rows upon rows of gray shelves packed with plastic anti-theft DVD cases. Plate glass windows at the front of the store looked out onto a desolate parking lot, wet pavement glittering in the light of the towering marquee sign.

Stowing the rolled-up poster under the front counter, Lake looked at the clock. Nine-thirty. Still an hour and a half before she could close, and no one besides Freddie had walked in the door since eight. Standard traffic for a weeknight—on nights like these, the cash deposits she took to the bank after closing were sometimes less than she got paid to be there. Oh well, she thought. At least my homework gets done.

“How about this,” called Freddie from across the store. Unseen between the high shelves, a hand shot up above them holding a DVD. Lake squinted to make it out.

“No, not that. Don’t pick something that someone would conceivably try to rent while we’re watching it,” said Lake. “I hate when people do that.”

“Okay, something else then. What about…” There was a long pause.

“Hurry up or I’m unmuting the ad reel.” Lake opened the cabinet that housed the DVD player and grabbed the remote. “I’m gonna do it!”

“ALRIGHT, Jesus, I’ll just pick one.” A second later Freddie emerged from the aisles, strode to the front and slapped a movie down on the counter. “Free her.”

With a click, Lake picked the magnetic pin out of the center of the case and removed the disc. “Priscilla,” she said. “Good choice.”

“I’m in the mood for some gay shit. Put it in.”

The movie blinked onto the screens simultaneously, spaced twenty feet apart around the perimeter of the store. While opening credits rolled, Freddie dragged two decorative chairs no one was supposed to sit in up to the registers, and the pair of them sat down.

“You brought snacks?”

“Sure did,” said Freddie, scooting a plastic bag across the carpet with their foot. “It sat in my car overnight so the candy might be a little stiff, but it’s still good. Nothing perishable.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Lake reached inside and fished out a pack of gummy worms. “Want a Code Red or something? We had a bunch that just expired.”

“I’m good, I got coffee before I came. Probably gonna have more when I get to work.”

“When’s your shift start?”

“Eleven, I know that’s when you close so I’ll bounce before you have to lock up.”

“Didn’t you just work earlier?”

Freddie shrugged. “Yeah, noon to eight. Such is the grind.” They plucked a worm from Lake’s lap and chewed thoughtfully. “Days like this are such a bummer. Too short of a break between jobs to go home and sleep, but too long of a break to sit in my car.”

“That’s what I’m for,” said Lake. “I’m like the truck stop of people. Rest your bones, take a shower.”

Freddie just laughed. On the screens, a man in the crowd whips his beer can at Hugo Weaving. He tumbles to the floor, laughter filling the room as he rights himself and staggers away. Backstage, he pulls off his wig and cradles his head in his hand, makeup settling into the somber creases of his face.

“Did I tell you some guy flicked his cigarette butt at my face the other day,” said Lake, staring up at the screen. “While I was getting gas.”

“Jesus, really? That’s horrible.”

“It’s fine. It’s not the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me. The look on his face hurt more.” She gestured to her own face, drew up her lip to show what she meant. It made her feel ugly to even approximate. “The sneer, you know. You get the sneer.”

“Yeah. My boss at the call center does it to me sometimes when he thinks I’m not looking.” Freddie folded their arms over their chest. “Haven’t told anyone. They’d probably just fire me to save HR the trouble.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

They fell silent as the movie filled in the gaps. Headlights flashed at their backs as cars on the road drove past, less and less frequent by the minute. Someone shoved a handful of DVDs through the drop slot with a metallic rattle but didn’t come inside. The gummy worms were depleted, and Freddie started in on a bag of spicy chips. On-screen friendships develop even as homophobic graffiti defaces the film’s titular bus between stops through the outback.

“Do you ever want more?” said Lake after a while.

“I’m good on snacks I think.”

“No, I mean—more from life.” She turned in her seat. Freddie was still looking up at the screen, a film of peach fuzz visible on their face in profile, whiskers turning gold in the light. “Do you ever feel like… I dunno. Like it’s all over?”

“You’re in college. Everyone feels that way in college.”

“Did you feel that way in college?”

Freddie shrugged, wiped red powder from their fingers onto their jeans. “Sure I did.”

“And now?”

“Now I don’t really care.”

“Okay. Elaborate on that.”

“Alright.” Freddie licked their fingers and turned to face her. “Here’s the thing: in college, everyone wants something from you. And they expect something from you. And they expect you to want something, and to put effort into going for it. But once you’re out of college, the number of people around you who give a shit about that stuff drops pretty dramatically. Right now you feel like it’s all over, but you haven’t even gone anywhere. Nothing has even started.”

“What if I don’t even know what I want?” Lake thumbed a buttonhole in her cardigan. “I’m getting this degree, but now that I’m almost done, I don’t even know if I want to do anything with it.”

“You see me using my degree? I work nights at a gas station, babe.”

“But do you like that?”

“I like it enough,” said Freddie. “I like that my boss doesn’t care if I sit and draw as long as customers get helped and checklists get done. I like that when I’m done with work I get to go home and make art and play with the cat and no one can tell me what to do. Granted, I don’t like the call center,” they added, “but the money’s fine for now. It’s just a job. As long as I get to make my art and be the most authentic version of myself, then I don’t care what other people think.”

“That doesn’t feel like giving up to you?”

“Not really.” They hesitated. “You know what would feel like giving up? If I stopped making art so I could like, go into marketing. Or if I detransitioned so I could be more hireable. I’m not interested in compromising what I care about so I can want what other people think I should want.” Freddie paused again, rubbed their eye with the heel of their hand. “Or, you know, maybe I’m just a burnout, and I’m only saying that to make myself feel better. I don’t really know.”

The two of them fell silent for a while. The movie played on. The door alarm dinged and Lake jumped to her feet, Pavlovian customer service response in action. He didn’t need any help, said the customer, and he returned to the register after a few minutes with a copy of some action blockbuster from last year and a porno. She felt his eyes on her as she pulled up his account and rang him up; a long, curious stare, like he was trying to figure something out.

Once he’d left, Lake glanced at the time. “You can hang out up here while I do the rest of these returns,” she said, “but you’ll probably want to head out soon. Almost closing time.”

“Already? Damn, I should have picked a shorter movie.”

“It’s cool. We can always watch the ending another time.”

“Definitely.”

Movies were scanned, then re-pinned and restored to their usual locations around the store. While she made the rounds, Lake watched out of the corner of her eye as Freddie tidied up the registers without being asked, even tying off the trash and leaving it by the door for her. When she came back to get Priscilla, she hesitated over the “eject” button, watching as the climax of the movie played out. The heroines climb up the cliffside, sweating and squinting in the sun, red dust coating their boots. At the top, they catch their breath. They are beautiful and tiny against the backdrop of the canyon, drag regalia resplendent in the setting sun. The camera pulls back, and back.

Click. The screen went black, and the player spat out the disc.

Ten minutes before close, Lake walked Freddie to the door.

“Thanks for hanging out with me.”

“My pleasure. Just doing my part to keep you from dying of boredom.”

“Much appreciated.” Then: “Um, I wanted to say—I don’t think you’re a burnout. I’m sorry if I made it seem like I did.”

“It’s cool. I know you didn’t mean it that way.” They took a deep breath. “Anyway, let me get out of here before I make myself late. Have a good rest of your night, Lake.”

“You too, text me later.”

“Will do. See ya.”

Eleven o’clock came and went. A flurry of snow began to fall outside, downy flakes disappearing on contact with the asphalt. Lights off, alarm set, door locked, and then Lake took the drive to the bank. The cash envelope for the day contained less than forty dollars, snapped up into the overnight drop box with a clank.

A mile down the road, Lake turned into a different lot, parked near a pump and turned off the engine. Then, in the silent car, she gazed through her windshield at the warm-lit interior of the gas station. Freddie was inside, alone at the register, staring down at the counter. A pencil moved in their hand, cutting broad strokes across a sketchbook page. They didn’t look up, focus falling completely on their work even as Lake watched them through the window.

The sky was dark and close, snow falling fast like hyperspace stars. There probably isn’t a right answer to anything, she thought, and then it was late, and there was nothing to say. Lake drove home and went to bed, and dreamed she was climbing a mountain.

#writing #mine #original fiction #writeblr #short story #RIP olit and thank you for publishing this in the first place #this piece is uncharacteristically wholesome as far as my writing goes so i hope you enjoy #it's also a little older so it does make me cringe to read now but that's just my perception. anyway

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bleach-your-panties · 1 year ago

Note

babe! H, J, & K for Kuroo and Bokuto please!!! I have a need and I am dying 🫣

This is so fun, thank you in advance!

You fed me with this, because I missed my man Bokuto!🤍🖤💛

❥⋱Koutarou Bokuto:

❥⋱H - Hickey: Nibble nibble nibble… how big or little, the redness, where it is, etc

Bokuto loves giving you hickeys and he highly encourages you to give him hickeys as well! He wants everyone to know that he’s a happily taken man with a very healthy sex life 🤭

He loves to leave hickeys on your neck- trailing from your neck down your collarbone and down your shoulder. They vary in shape/size because he's constantly changing the tempo of his kisses, bites, and sucks. They will all be a bright to deep red, though, because he suckles on your skin like he's trying to eat it.

When he returns to his team after a heated night with you, he’ll intentionally walk around in just gym shorts and a wife beater so they all can see all the marks, hickeys, and nail indents that you've left on him!

❥⋱J - Jamz: Slow Jamz to be exact. What song does he like to get it on to?

Sweet Love - Chris Brown

“Oh, baby, let’s get naked, just so we can make sweet love

All these sensations got me goin' crazy for ya

Inside on top of you, grindin' inside and out of you

Baby, I know what to do, baby, I know what to do

So come on, baby girl, let's just take our clothes off

Just so we can make sweet love

----

G-Girl, you shy you wanna slow it down? (Down)

And you start screamin' when I go downtown (Ow!)

Just as long as you get crazy

And baby, don't get it confused

I'll do everythin' you want me to

And just as soon as you get naked, makin' love

ᰔ

Planez - Jeremih ft. J Cole

“I can put you in the mile-high club, what’s up? Let's take a trip,

Have you ever read “the world is yours”, on a blimp?”

----

“I got you in the air, your body in the air - how it feel up here?

You can scream as loud as you want, loud as you can, ain't nobody gone hear”

----

“Oh you nasty, oh oh, you nasty

Both graduated, so fuck keeping it classy”

❥⋱K - Kiss: Get those lips ready! Smooches 💋

He is an overzealous kisser sometimes, and he gets messy with a lot of spit - so much that it’ll be dribbling down the sides of your connected mouths. It’s only because he’s away often traveling for games and he misses you so much! Not being able to kiss and taste you for so many months at a time makes him sad.

Once he’s home, though, he’ll calm down and kiss you softly - all over your body. Like I said, he misses you.

His lips suckle on your skin very gently. A stark contrast to his hornier, more urgent actions. He also likes to lick and flick his tongue over your skin while kissing it.

❥⋱Tetsurou Kuroo

❥⋱H - Hickey: Nibble nibble nibble… how big or little, the redness, where it is, etc

Now, you would think that he would be more open about giving hickies, but it actually makes him kind of shy.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still a little shit, but even he makes himself blush when he sees how overexcited he got in the bedroom last night once you’re getting ready for work in the morning and trying to cover up the marks on your neck with makeup.

The size of his hickies will vary depending on what type of mood he’s in. Pent-up? Large, bruise-like marks with uneven edges and a deep mauve color in the center. He’s feeling good that day? Medium to large, with less suction behind them but they might have teeth marks around the edges.

He’ll suck hickies into your titties as well, and lick over the nipples before raising his head to give you a mischievous grin.

❥⋱J - Jamz: Slow Jamz to be exact. What song does he like to get it on to?

Grind On Me - Pretty Ricky

“Baby, grind on me; relax your mind, take your time on me,

Let me get deeper, shawty ride on me.

Now come and sex me til your body gets so weak, with slow grindin’ baby”

—-

“I make em’ laugh and giggle, cuddle a little, suck on the nipple, lick the whipped cream from the middle,

Girlfriend I never go (raw), I rip off panties and I pop off (bras)

—-

“Pretty boy doin’ pretty good thangs, makin’ pretty good change

Gettin’ pretty good brain, from the pretty pretty chicks, gettin’ pretty damn rich

—-

“If loving you is wrong, then I don't wanna be right, so let's take our time and do it right, cause we got all night”

ᰔ

Meeting In My Bedroom - Silk

“There’s a meeting in my bedroom, so girl please don’t be late

There’s a meeting in my bedroom, so please don’t make me wait

----

Looking at my Rollie, girl, I see it's almost time

I hope you're getting ready girl and don't forget the wine

How long 'til Monday, girl?

Tonight is just for you and I

And it's gonna be so fly (so fly, so fly, what what, what)

I like having you around so I gotta put you down

So be there or be square

----

Step into mi casa, lay it down, down, down, down

(Come on yeah baby, yeah yeah yeah)

Got a little sumthing sumthing for my sexy mama, mama

Been checking for ya since day one

You're my moon and you're my sun

(You're my star, you shine, yeah)

----

❥⋱K - Kiss: Get those lips ready! Smooches 💋

He is a very, very, very good kisser. Playful. Just like a cat.

He’ll suck your bottom lip into his mouth and hold it before pulling back to stare at you, trying to make those golden brown eyes look as innocent as possible.

Loves to suck on your tongue and the sides of your mouth. His kisses will make you wet and leave you breathless.

When you fall asleep after a night full of passionate love-making with him, he’ll caress and kiss your back and shoulders.

----

valentine a-z © bleach-your-panties 2024. do not steal, repost, or upload my shit to tiktok! comments appreciated. reblogs always welcome.

#bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto smut #haikyuu bokuto #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #haikyuu kuroo #valentine's day #valentine event #valentine a-z #💗💗🍡°hq headcanons #💗💗🍡°hq masterlist #dividers by hitobaby #byp🌹

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whereianonymouslypostfics · 2 years ago

Text

The Flip Side Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.7k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: Here it is. The basically flipped script where Y/n is a mob boss and Wanda’s our adorable, lovable civilian. Overall this story has darker themes than the first one. There are a lot of references to alcoholism, violence, death, and past physical/emotional abuse. I’ll put warnings for each part, but if any of this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read!

Warnings: angst, references to alcoholism, suggestive content, domestic fluff (assume the first two will always be present unless stated otherwise)

The sound of Wanda’s screams reverberating off of the walls made you feel like you were crawling out of your skin. You hated to hear her sound so in pain, and knowing that she truly was made it even worse. You’d spent months, maybe longer trying to mentally prepare yourself for this day, and you truly never got to the point where you felt like you were ready. It was near agony having to just sit and watch and wait as Wanda did all of the work to bring your daughter into the world.

You and Wanda had wanted to have a baby since the day you got married. Honestly Wanda had wanted one earlier than that. She had always wanted to be a mom, and even though the foster dogs that ran around the penthouse counted as children, she wanted a baby. You’d been on board with the idea, but of course you couldn’t commit to it right then and there. A lot of preparation was required before you could feel ready to have a child. You needed to be at least a little more stable at work, and this was honestly the most time-consuming part of it all. Wanda had understood and you’d slowly done what was necessary to make sure you weren’t so front and center. You’d delegated until you felt like everything was out of your hands and you had very little control over it, but nearly three years later the day had arrived.

The equally important part of preparing for a baby that you conveniently had forgotten was arguably the most important. As you held your wife’s hand and tried to soothe her through labor, you realized that you hadn’t given being a parent more than the occasional thought. You knew that Wanda was over the moon and she was dying to meet your baby, but you were still a little nervous. You wanted this too, you hadn’t just agreed to make Wanda happy, but you’d forgotten how much pressure you would be putting on yourself by having a child with Wanda.

You feared every day that something would happen to her because of what you did, and you did everything you could to make sure she was safe. You had her tailed wherever she went, and you had gotten her to agree to being tracked in the least invasive way possible. You knew that Wanda tolerated it because she loved you, but you couldn’t help but want to put her and this baby on lockdown until the unforeseeable future. The idea of bringing your daughter into a world where she’s already at risk because of your less than legal occupation was terrifying. However, you’d agreed to this and now it was up to you to do your part and make things as safe as possible for your family.

“Y/n!”

You jerk away from whoever rudely shoved you awake, and you’re quickly reaching for your gun before you can stop yourself. You see Bucky out of the corner of your eye holding up his hands in surrender as he shoots you a look.

“Woah, it’s just me! Don’t shoot unless you want to drive yourself home.”

You frown as his words register and your hand drops from your hip as you sigh in exhaustion. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep here. You were supposed to be finishing up work before leaving on time to make it to dinner with your wife and child. It was mostly with your wife, but your now-6-month-old would be there, and you’re sure that Pietro would be as well.

You only take a second to wonder why you’d dream about Natalya’s birth of all things before you climb to your feet. You look around lazily for your phone and keys, and you curse when you see the missed calls from Wanda.

“She asked me to check up on you. You told her you’d be home earlier.”

You can’t help but groan in annoyance at yourself as you nod and follow Bucky out of the room. You had been swamped at work as usual, and as soon as you’d come back from an exhausting meeting this afternoon, you’d fallen asleep at your desk. You only cast a cursory glance at the mess you’re leaving before patting your friend on the back with a smile.

“Wanda’s cooking my favorite tonight. Do you want to join us?”

You have a feeling you know what his answer will be, but you wait until he tells you for certain that he’ll be busy tonight. You nod in understanding before following the brunette to your car. You sigh heavily as you get into the passenger seat and you close your eyes as you wait for Bucky to join you. He does quickly but he doesn’t start the car immediately as he turns to you with a frown.

You’d been really tired recently, and more so than when Natalya was born. Those first few months had been tough. You’d been sleep-deprived and as a result moodier than usual which wasn’t good for anyone. You’d wanted to drink more during this time than you had in the past 5 years, but you held off and tried to just find as much joy in having a young child at home as possible. Wanda had managed it a little better because she was able to take off work completely since she owned her restaurant, and she dedicated herself to her baby 24/7 for nearly 5 months. It wasn’t until recently that she started to talk about returning to work even if just part-time as Natalya got older.

Since your daughter had started sleeping a little longer at night, you’d recently had the luxury of sleeping through most nights. Despite having the nursery right down the hall, and enough baby monitors to start a store of your own, you’d been able to get more sleep recently now that Natalya’s gotten older.

So Bucky wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He hoped that you were just adjusting to everything still, or trying to figure out how to deal with the latest fire at work.

For the past 10 years, you’d been the head of one of Chicago’s oldest mobs. Your rise to power had been a treacherous one that included 2 assassination attempts, and multiple trips to the hospital as you tried to establish a name for yourself among a sea of misogynistic criminals. After being thrown to the wolves and proving your worth, you’d continued to build your wealth and reputation as you expanded your reach throughout the city. It had been the most difficult thing you’d ever done, and the stress alone had surely taken years off your life.

However, when you started drinking barely a few months into your reign, things became ugly quickly. You’d already learned to overcompensate for the fact that you were a woman by being more ruthless than your male counterparts. You’d killed too many people to count by the time you turned 23, and you’d turned to drinking and briefly drugs to deal with the stress and guilt that you brought upon yourself by staying with the mob.

You’d somehow made friends still, and they became loyal and eventually cared about you enough to try and help you beyond their loosely defined job requirements. You’d refused rehab and tried to handle things yourself, and that went about as poorly as it could have. You ended up in the hospital sick, and you’d eventually given up and started drinking again.

A few months later Pietro came to you asking for a job, and since you had a need for more employees and he looked strong enough you’d given him one. It wasn’t until you met his sister months later that you regretted this.

“Are you alright?”

You turn to Bucky in surprise, not realizing that you haven’t left yet as you drifted off. You shake your head before realizing what his question was, and quickly nodding instead.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just tired…and hungry.”

Bucky smiles and accepts this answer for now as he starts the car up to get you home. You own a number of properties around the city that you’ve either been gifted or overtaken by force that you utilized on a daily basis. One of these included a modern high rise apartment building that you lived in with Wanda and your daughter. There were an obscene number of floors, 42 you think, and the very top is where your penthouse sits. You and Wanda moved there shortly after getting married, and it’s since been renovated and re-renovated before its final modification right before your baby arrived.

You had way too many rooms for any three people to use, and honestly a good number of them were for your dogs.

When you first met Wanda, you had two German Shepherds that had been given to you by a business partner. It was the first time someone had given you a living thing, well at least that you accepted, and you couldn’t help but be wary. They’d been puppies at the time and they were now both close to 10 and they spent most of their days lounging around the penthouse or very occasionally going to the exercise room you had built for them. Given the fact that you were so high up and dreaded the idea of taking your dogs out multiple times a day, you’d had the rooftop outfitted with an area where the dogs could do their business and have it cleaned regularly by someone else.

Most of the rooftop you’d kept for yourself and Wanda to enjoy whenever the urge struck. However, given how busy you were and the fact that Wanda spent every waking minute with your daughter, trips to the roof were going to be far and in-between for a while.

When Bucky leaves you to probably continue working for a bit, you step into the private elevator that will take you up to your home. You slouch against the wall as you watch yourself go up and up through the large window across from you. You’d flirted with the idea of making it completely glass, but you honestly weren’t a fan of heights. Usually you had someone to talk to and distract you from slight nausea or at least a phone in your hand so you could studiously ignore it. Today, you had neither because you couldn’t muster the energy to take out your phone, so you just stared blankly at the brief view of city lights and the darkening sky.

When the elevator dings signaling that you’ve finished your journey, you stand up straight and put on a smile for your wife who hopefully won’t be too upset with you.

“You’re late.”

You walk into your 6-bedroom 9-bath penthouse and immediately sigh in relief. You’re such an introvert that the mere act of walking into your house recharges your social battery, at least a little bit. You walk down the short hallway that leads to the kitchen and living room, and you’re not surprised to see your wife cooking in the kitchen while your brother-in-law’s in the living room with your daughter. You smile at the sight of them before you go to greet your wife first.

“I know, I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

You don’t give Wanda much time to respond before you pull her in for a hug as you kiss her. You hear and ignore Pietro’s disgusted noise as you take a moment to look at your wife closely. She’s wearing comfortable clothing and her hair is thrown up into a ponytail as she cooks. Her face is bare of makeup, but she’s still the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. You kiss her cheek again before giving her one last squeeze as you look to the dinner she’s made.

“Thank you for making my favorite.”

Wanda offers a slightly pained smile as you squeeze her tightly, but you’re quick to notice and can’t help but frown. You loosen your hold on her before looking for any obvious injury that you might have missed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s fine. I’m just a little sore.”

Wanda’s gaze darts to where her brother’s holding her daughter up in the air while making strange noises before she looks to you with a small smile.

You frown before humming in understanding. Wanda had just stopped breastfeeding a little while ago, and despite starting Natalya on formula and somewhat solid food at this point, she still hadn’t dried up. You’ve read a lot about it and Wanda’s spoken with her doctor, but it sounds like it could be a while before she stops producing and therefore stops being so sore. They were told that if it’s longer than a week, she could be started on some medication to stop it.

“I’m sorry, love. Is there anything I can do?”

Wanda smiles at you but mutters a ‘later’ under her breath as she looks back to her brother. You nod with a smirk before you kiss her cheek once more as you head to the living room to greet the rest of your family.

“Hi there, Little Nat. How was your day?”

Despite not spewing more than a few short sounds that vaguely resemble words, you still talk to your daughter as if she understands you. It’s hard not to when you talk to your dogs the same way, but apparently it was encouraged. Pietro lowers your baby so you can take her into your arms and kiss her forehead. You smile wider when she laughs happily as you squish her belly and start to tickle her. You bounce her on your lap, content to just hold her as you turn to your brother-in-law.

“Pietro. I hope she was good for you today.”

Pietro Maximoff, your wife’s twin, was the one you’d met first all those years ago. He’d been desperate for money, and a little reckless but you’d seen potential in him. You’d had him assigned as your security detail to see what he was capable of, but he never got beyond that. Despite liking him well enough and trusting him to be loyal, you’d quickly decided that he wasn’t going to be working for you once you met his sister.

You remember that night like it had happened just the other day. You’d been ridiculously stressed about a deal that was falling through, and you’d had plans to blow off some steam. You’d called on Pietro because he was going to escort you to the party, but once you realized that he’d been followed you had a change of heart.

You still occasionally apologized to Wanda for trying to shoot her at your first meeting, but you both know that this night changed your lives for the better. You’d immediately been drawn to her and in a few short weeks you were dating, and Pietro was fired.

He held it against you for a while, but at this point you were pretty sure he was glad to be out of the mob. He certainly saw the hours you worked and how it drained the life from you, but he was your brother-in-law, and he made it his job to give you a hard time every now and then.

“She was an angel. Even as she threw her grapes around.”

You sigh at the thought of this and how Nat’s not been doing a great job during her transition to solid food. Well, she was doing fine you supposed since she was eating more than she was throwing, but it was more of a game right now to her and she mostly drank her formula and picked at the fruits and vegetables she liked. Apparently, grapes were not on that list. You nod before asking the follow up question that you are reminded of as you hear the sounds of dog collars clinking down the hall.

“Did any of the fur creatures clean up after her?”

Pietro just laughs before he shakes his head and looks to the new arrivals that finally realized you were home. You smile at the two in front, your jack Russell mixes who hurry over to you with little yips. You reach out to pet their scruffy coats before kissing their heads as they jump up on you.

“Hello Rudy. Milo. How are you?”

The duo just pants happily before sniffing Nat and walking away. They aren’t super interested in her which is good and bad, but you’ll just have to keep a close eye on them like the vet and pediatrician said. The next dogs that come up are your two old shepherds that you swear are walking slower every day. You smile lovingly at them before you silently ask Pietro to take your daughter so you can greet the larger dogs.

Boone and Rogue were your 10-year-olds who you’d had since they were barely a pound. You loved them dearly and watching them grow older broke your heart. You remember the days where they’d follow you around as you worked, intimidating people and keeping you company. They’d saved your ass a few times when you were outnumbered and having to retire them a couple of years ago felt like the end of an era. You didn’t replace them because you didn’t need to at this point, but you made sure that they would be comfortable and happy staying in the penthouse for the rest of their days.

They had access to almost all of the rooms and they could go out on the roof whenever they wanted to sun, but most of the time they just slept. You scratch the pair and kiss both of their heads with a sigh. You let them greet their human sibling with a sniff or two before you get to your feet with a groan.

“Dinner time?”

You meant for you, but you felt bad when the dogs perked up excitedly at the prospect of food. After confirming that Wanda had taken care of feeding them, you only give them a little extra before setting the table and helping Wanda finish up in the kitchen. You can tell that she’s tired which isn’t new, but she’s also being quieter than you’re used to. You worry that something’s on her mind, and she just doesn’t want to talk about it with her brother here.

You of course insist he stays for dinner because he’s already here and he does so much for the two of you. Since Nat was born, he’d stopped working and was around for whatever was needed. He helped his sister take care of Little Nat while you were at work, and when your wife had run by the restaurant to check in, he’d stay to supervise. You wondered if he’d stay here full-time once Wanda went back to work, but that was something you could figure out later.

“I went by the restaurant today.”

You look up from your plate as Wanda says this and you smile when you see how happy she looks. She loved that place and you swore that as soon as she was old enough, Natalya was going to learn to cook there. It would become her new home away from home if Wanda had anything to say about it. As exciting as this sounds, for now, you focus on the present as Wanda tells you about how everyone is doing in her absence.

“Stella says that the new kids are doing well, and there haven’t been any fires since that first time.”

You smile at this for two reasons. One because when Wanda says ‘kids’, she really means anyone younger than her. The brunette isn’t anywhere close to old, but you swear that once she passed 30, she just started calling anyone younger than her ‘kids’. The two 21- and 24-year-olds that she’s talking about were hired just before she went on maternity leave. They were going to help in the kitchen and Wanda had taken a week to run them through all of the items on the menu until they knew how to make each one. They’d done a fantastic job and Wanda was going to keep them on even as she slowly started working again.

You’re glad to hear that she’s happy with how things are going at the restaurant and you’re about to say this when Pietro speaks up. You look to where he’s trying to feed Nat with a spoon, but she’s more interested in looking at what’s on the floor around her high chair.

“And how’s Bridget doing?”

Both you and your wife roll your eyes in unison at the predictable question. Pietro, despite being freer than either of them, hasn’t made an appearance at the restaurant for a while. He’d had a slightly awkward breakup with one of the hostesses that worked there and he’d been avoiding it like the plague. Wanda was annoyed because she’d warned him not to get involved with someone she worked with, but he hadn’t listened. He’d found it difficult to say no to this redhead’s…charms.

“She wasn’t there today, and even if she was, I wouldn’t tell you. You weren’t very nice to her.”

You just watch in amusement as you wife chastises her brother about his failed relationship. It had honestly ended amicably, but it hadn’t lasted long because Pietro hadn’t been looking for something serious, and Bridget had wanted to settle down. Luckily, work wasn’t awkward for anyone and it only got a little dicey if Pietro showed up and tried to show off in one way or another.

“I was very nice to her sestra. Just ask.”

The two start to argue in their native language and you just smiled as you picked up bits and pieces of it. Wanda wasn’t being very complimentary of her brother, and if you weren’t mistaken Pietro was being lewd. As usual. You sigh as you abandon your mostly finished dinner and get up so you can try and feed your daughter. Pietro’s mostly given up at this point, but you sit down beside her with a smile before picking up a clean spoon.

“Hi little one. This food tastes better than what’s on the ground. I promise.”

You scoop a little spoonful of it out of the bowl and hold it up to Natalya. She looks at you with a smile, but makes no move to try to eat, so you move to another tactic. You start to move the spoon around in an aimless pattern, pretending like you’re flying a plane and although it gets your daughter’s attention she’s still not interested in eating. You eventually give up and boop her on the nose before reaching out to try and clean her shirt. You’ll never admit this out loud, but she reminds you of yourself when she eats. She’s so enthusiastic that she sometimes gets more of it on her than in her mouth. At least she has the excuse of being a baby. You’re just guilty of being overzealous.

You don’t realize that the twins are done arguing and have switched to watching you try to tempt Nat into eating. After cleaning up the mess Nat made, you move her food aside before handing her one of her toys that was out of reach. You let her chew on it because it was sanitized right before dinner and you smile as she laughs happily between gumming the rubber ring.

“You’re such a cutie.”

You’re back in your seat and intent on finishing dinner when you realize that Wanda and Pietro are just watching you. You shoot them curious looks but Wanda just smiles before she takes a sip of her water with a shake of her head.

“Nothing, detka. You two are just cute.”

You sigh inaudibly at this but don’t argue even when Pietro looks at you with a smug smile. You focus on finishing your dinner as conversation about the restaurant continues. Pietro is the one who asks if Wanda will be returning soon, and she says that over the next two weeks she plans to go in a couple more times. You two had briefly talked about this but you hadn’t realized she’d made a decision until now. You’re glad that she’s not trying to rush things because although you know that she loves her work, you selfishly want her hidden away in the safety of your home.

While Wanda’s been with you, both before and after getting married, there are only been a few instances when someone has tried to come after her. It was on days where you were out late working, or you had a sudden change of plans. They hadn’t gotten too close either time, but even someone stalking Wanda was too close for you. These incidents are partially why you’d moved here and tried to make it as secure as possible. You knew short of building yourself and fortress that you demanded she stay in 24/7, there was no way to guarantee her safety. You just did your best by putting your best people by her side and making sure that you had multiple ways of tracking and communicating with her if necessary.

Your wife was very tolerant of all of this because she’d seen first-hand what happens to people who try to hurt someone you love. Although she knows it’s necessary to keep her safe, she wants to do everything she can to spare you from having to kill someone. It’s one of the many downsides of your job, and probably her least favorite, but asserting your authority by eliminating threats is something that you have to do often. She never wants to know how much time you spend a day torturing or killing people, but she can always tell when you come home at night how difficult your day was.

Whether you don’t bother to take off your jacket and shoes, or you look like you’d seen a ghost, she can tell that your work had been particularly rough on you.

She wonders how long you’ll want to do this, and if you have a backup plan for your next chapter. She knows that 10 years is a long time to be in something, and you can’t just leave it. Even if it was something else, like a desk job, she’s sure you’d have to plan your next step and take some time before making any changes. She’s not naïve enough to think that even if you wanted to leave, if you decided to, it would be easy. She’d seen you as you tried to take a step back from it all while she was trying to get pregnant. It had taken a toll on you and she still sometimes sees that you’re facing the backlash of your difficult decisions.

As much as she wanted to have this baby with you, she didn’t want the decision to make things more difficult for you.

Her desire to make your life as easy as possible is why she’s only going to go to the restaurant occasionally for the next month before steadily increasing her shifts until she’s working full time again. She knows that Pietro would be willing to watch Natalya until she was old enough for school, but she wanted him to go back to work too if he wanted it.

He’d started working with your friend Tony a few years ago, and despite not understanding the ins and outs of the technology he worked with, he enjoyed learning and getting to spend time with someone who was more similar to him than a 6-month-old was. This was a conversation for later though because as dinner finished up, Wanda realizes that you’re fading fast. You’d had a long day and you could probably sleep right now, despite your nap earlier. After exchanging a look with her brother, Wanda gets up and starts to clear the table.

“Oh no, wait. I’ll do it.”

The rule is that whoever cooks doesn’t clean, and this is something that you’ve stuck to even on your worst days. You actually didn’t mind cleaning because it was a very mindless, almost cathartic activity. Wanda smiles at you before she takes the stack of plates she has toward the kitchen.

“I know, I’m just bringing them to the kitchen for you while you get Natalya’s dishes.”

You obediently stand up and stack the tiny bowls and spoons before grabbing your daughter with your free hand. You hold her on your hip as you lead her to the kitchen to see the mess that you get to clean.

“Look Nat! Look at all the food, Mommy made. She’s going to teach you how to cook this as soon as you can hold your own spoon.”

Wanda rolls her eyes as she sets the dishes down by the sink, but she doesn’t deny it as she swoops in and steals her daughter. You smile and watch as she takes the baby into the living room. She leaves you to your dishes and Pietro returns from letting the dogs back in now that dinner’s over before settling on the couch.

“Come here, milaya. Let’s go play.”

You’re putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher when your phone rings from where you left it on the counter. You jump slightly at the jarring sound and you sigh as you dry your hands off before reaching for it. You don’t notice Wanda’s frown or Pietro’s look as you answer Bucky’s call with a sigh.

“Hey, Bucky. What’s up?”

You close the dishwasher and set the two pots that Wanda used aside to dry as you hold your phone to your ear. You listen to your friend tell you about what you’re hoping doesn’t ruin the rest of your night. Right before leaving ‘the office’ you’d made sure that everything was set for the hit that you had planned tonight against yet another politician that was trying to interfere with your business. He was trying to get legislation passed that would crack down on drugs in the city, and not only could that potentially ruin you but it would drive the prices of everything through the roof. You didn’t want to deal with that and you honestly didn’t mind taking this route to get ahead of the problem. When reading about the target you’d found that he wasn’t the most upstanding guy, and very few people except maybe his mistress and their kid would miss him.

“What do you mean he can’t make it? Did he double book himself?”

You try to keep your voice down and your anger under wraps as Bucky tells you about the flaky hitman you’d talked to about an hour ago. Apparently, he wasn’t available anymore and not only did that make him the newest addition to your list, but it left you in an awkward position. You weren’t sure who you could find to take his place so last minute. Glancing at the clock on the oven you realize that it was less than an hour before the hit was supposed to take place. You groan under your breath as you consider your options before you ask Bucky what he’d do.

Bucky has been your friend for a long time and you’d worked together for almost the entire time. You know that he always has a plan D while you occasionally get stuck on plan C. In this case, you want to hear what he thinks the best course of action is for this. You’d already had everything in place. His $300k, his spot on the guest list, and a getaway car were all waiting for him. Now, he’d be lucky if he sees tomorrow.

“What do you think, Bucky?”

You wait as your friend tells you exactly what you’d been thinking, but been reluctant to agree to. Not only was it risky, but it was going to cost you a lot more money that you didn’t currently have to throw around. You’d have to talk to Yelena to see if she could move her collection day up to tomorrow instead of later this week. That said, you didn’t expect to be able to cover this bill with that alone. You resist the urge to knock something off the counter top as Bucky gives you the bad news.

“Nat could do it, but you know her fee and I think she’s busy with a deal of her own at the moment.”

You head over to the fridge to look for something you know you won’t find before you take a deep breath. You know Nat is busy, she’s working on getting you drugs that you’d been promised last week. You couldn’t take her from that right now, not if you wanted to pay your employees on time. You reach for the leftover cake from Natalya’s half-year birthday and set it on the counter. You make the mistake of glancing up to see if your wife and Pietro were paying attention to you.

They’re watching you with very different expressions that make you feel equally ashamed and frustrated. Pietro’s eyeing you suspiciously because even after everything you’d done to get better, to prove to him and yourself that you’re doing better, he can’t completely trust you. You suppose you can’t blame him. You want to credit his reluctance to his brotherly duty to keep Wanda’s best interests in mind. He doesn’t want her hurt again, especially now that you have Natalya to take care of, and you don’t think he’ll ever forget how much you hurt her.

Whether intentional or not, a lot of the first year of your relationship had been hell for Wanda. You’d still been drinking and you had no control over your temper. You’d been acting so impulsively and recklessly for years that it had been difficult to just shut it off because of Wanda’s presence in your life. She’d suffered the consequences of your late nights, your random disappearances and your benders, but she’d still stayed. A lot had to happen for her to stick with you, but she did it and the idea of putting her through anything like that again wasn’t acceptable to Pietro in the least.

Wanda watches you with a worried frown as she tries to keep her baby from squirming in her arms. She knows it’s a work call because no one else would reach out at this time, and seeing how you tense and sound angry almost immediately, she realizes this isn’t good news. She waits to see what you decide and she would be lying if she said she’s not saying a little prayer that you don’t leave her tonight to do who knows what.

“She can’t miss that; we need the money.”

You bite your lip as you consider plan C. It’s not great, and you hate that you’re even considering it, but you’re running low on time. You grab a fork and start to eat the cake in front of you mindlessly. You’re not even hungry, but you need to do something with your hands that isn’t punching a hole in the wall.

“What about Steve?”

Steve had been part of your security detail early on because of a few reasons. The first was his experience. He’d been in the military before coming to Chicago, and he was a real asset that you’d been grateful to have. You’d met him and Bucky at the same time, and despite his intimidating stature, he was a kind and dependable friend that you trusted with your life. The other reason he was with you was because he was a crack shot. On the rare occasion that he wasn’t busy or watching over your wife which was the primary task you’d given him, he would help you with loose ends. If the situation called for it, much like tonight’s did, he’d off someone for you. He did it for free even if you ended up paying him anyway for his trouble, but he was one of the most efficient people in your employ.

The only issue with having him do something like this for you was that he was easily recognized at this point. Despite his best efforts and yours to keep him incognito, it was impossible for him to go completely undetected, and people knew what he looked like now. He was recognized by many, and only kept out of jail because of a deal you had with a corrupt judge. You’d negotiated his freedom upon certain terms, and these included not letting him commit crimes, especially murder.

You don’t know what to do. Short of going after Jacobs yourself, you aren’t sure who you can ask to infiltrate the party that starts in 20 minutes and get in and out without being caught.

Bucky is on the same page as you and he sighs deeply as he decides on what to do. He had a couple of things he needed to finish up tonight, but those could wait for a bit. He was privy to the original plan and he was less recognizable than Steve, so he could give it a shot.

“I’ll do it.”

You’re shaking your head as you drop your fork and give up trying to distract yourself. You walk out of the kitchen without a word and step into the closest room with a door. You take a deep breath as you look into the mirror in front of you and cringe at your appearance. You look like shit which is honestly not a surprise considering how shitty you feel. You’re tired, anxious, and now sick to your stomach as you realize what you have to do. You’re not going to let Bucky off the hook completely, but you don’t want him going after Jacobs tonight. It’s not worth the risk, and you’d like to know more about why this happened in the first place. It couldn’t be because someone was so bold that they thought they could change their minds and refuse you. The mere thought makes you want to scream, but you just take another deep breath before finally responding.

“No, Buck. We’ll just wait on it. For now, I’d like you to find Logan for me and keep him somewhere safe until I can see him. I have a few questions.”

Bucky agrees to have this done by morning and you hang up with a disappointed sigh. This is just not your day.

“Y/n, are you okay in there?”

You turn at the sound of your wife’s voice and you nearly curse yourself again for being so broody. You are certain she’s a little on edge because she always is when it comes to your business. She hated when you brought work home, honestly you both did, but sometimes you couldn’t help it. The last time it happened you’d had to leave in the wee hours and not only did Wanda hate having you leave her, but she knew that whatever got you out of bed at this time wasn’t anything good. She’d learned during your time together that delegation was a double-edged sword. It freed you up to do other more important things, like be home with her while staying out of danger, but it also made your anxiety near unbearable depending on what the problem was.

Wanda had learned how to help you manage this through the years of therapy you’d had. She’d helped you avoid replacing one bad habit with another, and encouraging you to focus on something positive is what she was attempting to do now.

You open the door to the bathroom to see Wanda standing there with Nat in her arms. Your daughter was smiling widely as she swatted Wanda’s hair with her grabby hands. You couldn’t help but smile and you reached out for her with a sigh. You kissed her face a few times until she giggled before turning your attention to your wife with a shake of your head.

“No everything’s going to hell, but it will work itself out.”

Wanda is surprised by how relaxed you sound, or rather resigned. She would have thought you’d start cursing and threaten to murder someone, but instead the majority of your focus is on your daughter who despite enjoying herself is starting to get sleepy. You kiss her forehead one more time before you start heading for her bedroom.

“Is it bedtime little one?”

Wanda follows behind you as you head back through the living room to get to Natalya’s nursery. Pietro’s still sitting in the living room but when he sees you, he stands up before looking to his sister. You don’t bother worrying about what they’re deciding as you stop just long enough to see what your brother-in-law’s plans are.

“Thank you again for today. I’m going to put this one to bed.”

Pietro only hesitates for a second before Wanda nods and he decides that he can leave. He, just like Bucky and Steve, lives on the floor just beneath them so they’re nearby if needed. Not to mention they live rent free. Pietro hugs his sister before telling her to call her if she needs anything before he leaves for his own apartment. He’ll be back tomorrow depending on if his sister goes to work, but for now he can tell she’s only worried about her wife.

“What story do you want to read tonight, Little Nat?”

Although she’s too young to understand what you’ll read, just the act of talking to her is good practice for her later months. You also like to tell yourself that hearing your voice will help her recognize you even if you’re gone often. You feel bad that you’re not very present, but you’re trying to do better, and you’ll be damned if you’re here for a bedtime and you don’t tell Nat a story.

You set her down and give her a moment to settle in her crib before you start to look through her books. They’re mostly picked out for when she’s older, closer to 1.5 or 2 years old, but you love these stories and want your daughter to know them. You start to grab the Yertle the Turtle book when Wanda steps in and sits beside you with a smile.

“You read that one two nights ago, detka. I think she’ll have it memorized soon.”

You smile widely at the thought and you go to open the book anyway before you look to your wife with a thoughtful hum.

“What would you have me read instead, Wands? Maybe the scary wolf book, or the sad fish who lost his scales?”

Wanda knows you like those books, but she forgoes the ‘traumatic’ books for one that might be your all-time favorite. She skims the bookshelf before finding it in the exact same place as last time. She pulls it out and hands it to you with a shrug.

“What about the one with all of the colorful animals.”

You can’t help but look interested in this one and you only hesitate for a second before exchanging your book for Wanda’s. You kiss her briefly in thanks before clearing your throat and opening the book. It isn’t until you check to see if your daughter is paying attention, that you realize that she’s already asleep. You chuckle under your breath before you close the book and set it aside with a sigh.

“Maybe tomorrow then.”

Wanda follows you to your bedroom once you make sure that Nat is truly asleep and good for you to leave alone. You make sure that your dogs are in their section of the penthouse before leading your tired wife to the bedroom. You know you’re going to have to talk about Bucky’s phone call, but for now you’d like to jump in the shower and rid yourself of today. When Wanda realizes what your intentions are she takes the baby monitor on the bedside table and holds it as you get changed.

“Would you like some company?”

Wanda rarely needs to ask, but you nod regardless as you shed your clothes and head into the bathroom with your wife on your heels. You let her get the monitor situated while you start the shower and get the hot water running. You sigh before you make sure that your wife is all set before reaching out for her. She shoots you a confused look, but you just bend slightly at the waist before asking dramatically.

“All ready, milady?”

Wanda rolls her eyes, but she takes your offered hand and lets you lead her into the shower. You adjust the water when you realize it’s too hot before letting Wanda lead the way and shutting the door behind her. You sigh in relief as the hot water sprays your sore muscles, and you shift slightly so you’re completely under the shower head. You open your eyes to see Wanda’s watching you as she reaches for the body wash, and you smile in anticipation as you hold out your hands.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

The brunette smiles as you start to lather her arms before carefully moving to her sore breasts. She groans before nodding slightly as she runs a hand through her wet hair with a smile. She hinted earlier that a massage might help, but she’d actually started earlier when you were on the phone and you can’t help but laugh at the image.

“I’m sure Pietro loved that.”

She slaps you playfully before emptying more of the sweet-smelling wash into her own hands so she can start to clean you up. She can tell you’re incredibly tense, and she wants to try and remedy this now if you’ll let her.

“He studiously ignored me and focused on Natalya.”

You smile widely at the thought of Pietro being such a good brother. You sigh once again as Wanda starts to squeeze your biceps as she runs her hands down your arms. You let your eyes fall closed as you let Wanda work her magic. You relax quickly and you have to remember to keep yourself standing upright as you feel the urge to lie down overtake you. Wanda has given you dozens of massages over the years, and it really was the only thing that could calm you down when you were stressed. Well, the only thing you were allowed to have. However, you realize that unfortunately as you get clean and calmer by the minute, this leaves you unprepared for what your wife asks you next.

“What did Bucky tell you earlier?”

You hesitate to answer and you contemplate pretending like you didn’t hear her, but the gentle squeeze she gives your side when a few seconds have passed in silence make this option less appealing. You sigh heavily as you think about your call with Bucky and how this was going to be a pain in the ass to replan. You don’t want to worry about this now. You just want to enjoy your time with your wife, but Wanda is asking you for something. You open your eyes and look down slightly at your wife who’s shooting you a curious look. You can tell that she’s worried and you feel badly about this, but there’s not much you can do about that other than reassure her that everything is fine. At least it’s not worse than it usual is.

“Something I had planned fell through and it’s going to be a bitch to reschedule.”

This was the most detail you would give Wanda, and you knew that she preferred it that way. She’d learned the extent of what you did only hours after meeting you. She remembers Google searching you and learning about all of the atrocities you’d committed and being afraid for her brother. He’d been working with you at the time, and she had correctly concluded that being anywhere near you put a target on him that Wanda was not happy about.

Once you started to care about what Wanda wanted, you made sure to fix this by firing him. He’d been mad at you, but making Wanda happy had overshadowed this and paved the way for you two to start dating.

Now not much has changed since Wanda first learned about what you did. The basics were the same. It was illegal and dangerous both physically and financially. You gambled a lot given how you trusted numerous people to do jobs for you, and sometimes they disappointed and you lost out. When things like that happened it was usually money you lost, but tonight you’d probably lost more than that depending on how successful Bucky ends up being.

“I’m sorry.”

It’s the only thing that Wanda can really say in response. She doesn’t ask for details. She certainly doesn’t want to know who you’d planned on killing tonight, so she offers you the only consolation she can. Once you’re both clean, you head back into the bedroom wrapped in towels as you look for your change of clothes. Wanda throws on a long t-shirt and you find a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before you slide under the covers.

“I’m so ready to sleep.”

You practically moan as you lie down on your very comfortable mattress and wait patiently for your wife to join you. As you look up at her, your gaze travels down to where her shirt stops mid-thigh and you can’t help but smile as you reach out to touch. Wanda settles on the bed before grabbing your hands to kiss them with a sigh. She lies down facing you and she looks you over carefully. The circles under your eyes are darker than usual and she can see your stress lines are more prominent as well. She can’t help herself and she squeezes your hands where she holds them to her chest with a sigh.

“How are you really feeling, detka?”

You expected this question much earlier, so you’re ready for it now even though you’re seconds away from sleep. You aren’t; however, prepared to see how softly Wanda’s looking at you. She’s only inches away from you and despite considering that she might think you’re buying your time, you lean forward and meet her lips for a kiss. She doesn’t respond immediately, but she doesn’t pull away so you take that as a win. You continue to kiss your wife, and your hands roam her body as you think about how to answer her.

You’re feeling as stressed as usual, but despite tonight’s hiccup you don’t think your mood is anything to worry about. You take your antidepressants and you do your best to focus on the good things in your life, like your family and friends, when you feel like lashing out at someone. You only crave a drink a couple times a week, but it’s manageable and you are still avoiding bars as much as possible.

You realize that this sounds way too rehearsed, but it honestly is just how you feel. You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to relax with the job you have, and surely that’s a reason to rethink your occupation. You have a wife, and a child, you should be able to enjoy your time with them without having your mob responsibilities looming overhead.

You had to go to one last week to meet a client, and despite the fact that you just got water your nerves about this particular deal made watching him drink his Manhattan near unbearable. You’d gone home and immediately cuddled with your daughter, and if Wanda picked up on your weird behavior, she didn’t comment on it. She also didn’t comment on how you practically dragged her into bed later.

Wanda eventually just nods before she leans in to kiss you this time. You smile against her lips before you run your hands up under her shirt to graze her ribs. The resulting gasp makes you scoot even closer to your wife so you can tangle your legs with hers.

“I’m glad it’s not overwhelming you.”

“Stress is a constant, but it’s not overwhelming.”

You nod when Wanda says this and you mutter something in agreement, but your main focus is on your wife’s breasts. You are careful because she told you earlier that they were sore, but you can’t help but want to get your hands on them. Seeing how Wanda’s body changed was one of your favorite parts of her pregnancy. You’d been called a teenage boy for admitting it, but watching Wanda swell as your child grew in her made you insatiable. When the first trimester filled with sickness, cravings and poor sleep ended, you’d spent all your free time with your wife and a lot of it had been in bed. You think back on these times fondly, but you quickly return your focus to the present when your wife’s voice registers.

“Mhmm, it is.”

Wanda hisses and arches toward you slightly as you squeeze her breasts before slotting your leg between her thighs. You peek under the covers as you continue to push up your wife’s shirt and you can’t help but smile at what you see. You don’t think you’ll ever stop believing that your wife is the most beautiful woman in the world. As she lays beside you flushed and needy, you can’t help but want to spend hours appreciating the wonderful woman who gave you a beautiful, albeit sometimes exhausting daughter.

“You’re beautiful, Wands.”

You can’t help but smile as you break away from Wanda’s lips to kiss her neck. You feel her pulse quicken as you tease her heated skin with your teeth, and her grip on your arm tightens as she releases a breathy curse.

“Fuck, Y/n. You should really sleep.”

It came out as a question rather than a suggestion, but you still shake your head as you roll over so you’re hovering over your wife. She gasps again and you smile down at her as you carefully position yourself on top of her without moving your hands from her heaving chest.

“I feel great, Wands. Will you let me help you feel good?”

While that does sound appealing and the feeling of your hands on her sore breasts make her want to buck her hips, she’s hyperaware of your attention and it’s making her self-conscious. She knows that she’ll never have her pre-pregnancy body again. She’ll never be slim with a body free of stretch marks, and despite your insistence that she’s still perfect; that you don’t care about that, sometimes the voice in her head is louder than yours.

You know her well, and you can sense that her hesitation is due to her insecurity. It also helps that Wanda’s becomes tense beneath you as she squirms uncomfortably and you have to keep yourself from sighing in disappointment. Instead, you lean over to kiss your wife gently before your hands start to drift down her sides. She jumps slightly as you expected, but they keep wandering until they fall to her hips.

“I know I can say it until you’re sick of hearing me talk, but I love you so much. Do you know that?”

Wanda shifts to help you push her shirt up and off despite wanting to stay hidden. She curses when she feels lips against her breasts, and you wait until you feel her relax a little before moving down to her stomach.

“Well, I do, Wands. I love everything about you.”

Your hands squeeze her hips before you press a kiss against your wife’s tummy rolls. She’d lost most of the weight she’d been carrying with Natalya already, but she still had a little left that she’s not sure she’ll ever shed. Given how busy she is with Natalya and how exhausted she feels by the end of the day, there’s not time for any exercise. She doesn’t count running around while she takes care of her daughter, or the work out you occasionally give her in the bedroom.

Tonight’s not going to be one of those nights though because she can already tell by how tenderly you’re kissing her stretch marks, that you’re just trying to make her feel better. She feels herself relax under your touch, and after a few minutes she releases a tired sigh, and with it some of her anxieties. She reaches down to bury her hands in your hair with a smile. You look up at her from where you’ve rested your head with a smile.

“Thank you, detka. I feel better already.”

You smile wider before reaching for one of Wanda’s hands and kissing it with a questioning look. You’re nearly falling asleep as your muscles continue to ache in protest of your continued consciousness. You need to go to bed soon since you have an early morning, but you need to make sure your wife’s feeling better first. You hate that you may have stressed her out, and you want to fix it if at all possible.

“I’m glad to hear it, but is there anything else I can do to help you relax?”

Wanda smirks at you as she runs her hands through your hair carefully. You haven’t put it up yet, and she loves seeing it unkempt and wild like you are. She can see you’re fading but you’re watching her carefully and she knows that doing anything but telling you the truth will get her in trouble. She sighs as she shifts so she’s more comfortable against her pillow. Wanda meets your gaze with a teasing look that immediately makes you perk up. You’re never one to back down from a challenge.

“You can either hurry up and finish what you started, or you can come up here so we can sleep.”

You smile widely as you move up your wife’s body to kiss her deeply. She moans against your lips and is just short of pushing you away from her when you break the kiss with a sigh. You slide back down the bed before moving to sit between Wanda’s legs. You move so you’re where you need to be before teasing her with your fingers along her inner thighs.

“I’ll make it quick, baby.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #wanda x you #yelena belova #natasha romanoff #pietro maximoff #the flip side #mob au

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happy-beeeps · 2 years ago

Note

Jumping on the band wagon since I’m a massive TCW fan and found your account! Hear me out

What about reader having to dress up for a dinner meeting and Rex sees them in a dress for the first time? 💃🏻

Anon, I adore you. This was so fun to write. Fair warning, I absolutely blacked out the first part of this request and it's definitely not a dinner meeting, but I feel like the vibes still work, I'm so sorry!😭 This was so fun to write though omg

Lucky Hand

Summary: When reader goes to Cantonica to find a Separatist arms dealer, Rex reacts to seeing her dressed to impress for the first time

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Alcohol mentions, reader gets her thigh touched by a weirdo but that's it I prommy, Rex is not saving room for the holy spirit but it stays PG-13, no editing because I haven't before so why start now

* * *

This isn’t the worst plan Anakin’s ever had, but that isn’t saying much. It’s also not the worst plan you’ve ever had, so that gives you slightly more comfort. It’s simple, in theory. There’s a separatist arms dealer who frequents the sabacc table at Canto Bight. You are supposed to slip in, get his attention, and hopefully some intel. You’re prepared to meet resistance, but you’ve been assured it won’t come to that. Still, you don’t know how you’re supposed to access your saber in this dress, maker forbid it comes to that, or how you’re going to get access to this arms dealer in the first place. Anakin can sense your discomfort as you enter the room, picking at the sheer, glimmering fabric as you walk, willing it to stop clinging to your body for just a moment so you can pull yourself together.

“Where does Senator Amidala even wear this?” you mumble, grateful that the Senator had a dress she didn’t mind donating to the cause, but you wished she had sent you with something a little less revealing. The skirt is full and floaty, with layers of sparkling sheer fabric dyed in a rainbow of blues and greens. The bodice sweeps off the shoulder into two sheer long sleeves that clip around your fingers, but is centered around a plunging neckline that cuts nearly clear to your belly button. It’s through the will of the force alone that you haven’t had a wardrobe malfunction just from walking.

“Yeah, I was gonna ask the same question.” Anakin grumbles before walking over to you and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Snips and I are behind you the whole time, we’re going to keep a close perimeter to Canto Bight once you touch down on Cantonica.”

“Remind me why we can’t send you on this mission?” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. You try not to blush when you feel Rex’s force signature shift from where he’s standing across the room, your Captain’s stoicism failing him in ways only you can see.

“Because, frankly, I’m too distracting, we can’t have everyone in the casino offering to buy me a drink.” Anakin chides, and you send an elbow into his ribs with a laugh. “Rex and Bubs are going with you as security. Figured they’re pretty much the only two without face tattoos, hopefully the guards will just think they’re brothers. You’ll take one of the transport ships we have on the Resolute.”

You swear you hear Bubbles snort from where he stands across the room, but the sound is soon silenced by a motion from Commander Leo.

“Ok, I think I’m ready.”

The small squadron that will be landing on Cantonica with you begins to prepare their weapons while Anakin pulls Ahsoka aside to find an ideal landing zone. You’re watching the chaos unfold from the back of the room when you feel a presence begin to enter your orbit. You say nothing, but slip out quietly, making your way down the hall until you pass by a small supply closet, ducking in without turning around. Just as you suspected, the door slides open a minute later, and you find yourself chest to chest with Rex, breathing heavily as he takes you in in the cramped space.

“Mesh’la” he breathes, reaching out towards your face before you intercept his hand, catching it, and placing it on your waist.

“It took me and Ahsoka nearly a full hour to do my hair, can’t have you ruining it Captain.”

“Wanna ruin more than that,” he breathes, his eyes focusing on your perfectly painted lips, but shakes himself out of it, holding you firm on your waist. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you dressed up.”

“I think this is one of the only times I’ve been all dressed up.” You can’t say you hate it, both the way you feel and the way his eyes burn as they devour your form. “Are you ready for the mission?”

“It’ll be easy,” he shrugs, cooling off back into the casual nonchalance Rex always has. “You’re good at negotiations,” he taps your hip where your saber is carefully guarded beneath layers of expensive silk.

“I’m not worried. I’ve got you and Bubbles to back me up.” You shrug and Rex laughs a quiet, breathy laugh.

“Kid’s got spunk, I’ll give him that.” But he looks at you fondly, placing his pointer finger and your chin and tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “I trust him.” He backs away from you too quickly, and you barely suppress the sigh that threatens to escape your lips as he ducks out the door. “Follow me out in a few minutes.”

* * *

So, it wasn’t entirely going wrong. You were able to get in with Rex and Bubs, and quickly located the arms dealer, a Theelin man with bright purple skin and coiffed blue hair. Bubs quickly broke away under the guise of getting you a drink, and Rex maintained a close detail, just as any security agent would. The casino was busy, you were able to float through with near anonymity, and you quickly sidled up the man sitting at the sabacc table, placing your handful of credits next to his. “Can a girl get dealt in?” you crooned, and the man gave you a wide grin before moving his chair to the side.

“For a beauty like you, I’d nearly offer my hand.” He said, and you could feel Rex start glowering from where he stood a few feet back. “I’m Grafan Thif.” He extended his hand and you shook it delicately.

“Amila Shula,” you smiled, offering him the pseudonym you’d landed on. “Let’s play.”

The mission had been going well, Grafan had been slowly letting on intel the whole night as you followed him through the casino, your hand loosely through his arm. The two of you settled at a quiet table near the patio, he looked at you, his eyes barely focusing from the drinks he’d consumed. “You should come with me, see my new vacation home.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows rose, and Rex and Bubbles stood straighter, listening to his words, “Where are you going to take me?”

“Got a new job on Agamar, some backwater system, overseeing a new factory out there.” His hand began to slide up your thigh over your dress and you tensed, trying to urge him to stop as his hand grew closer to your saber.

“Sir, if I may-” Rex stepped forward, his face a blend of calm and barely concealed jealous rage when Grafan’s hand grazed the shape of your saber beneath your dress.

He glanced at you, then at your two guards and his eyes grew wide, as if he was connecting all the pieces. “You, you-”

“Are leaving.” You hoisted your dress up to grab the saber out from where it hung around your hip, gesturing for Rex and Bubbles to follow. The three of you ran towards the patio as Grafan shouted for security, and you pressed the concealed comm on your bracelet to reach Anakin. “We’ve got company!”

“Already on it!” came his reply, and as the three of you ran down the stairs, you were greeted with the always reassuring sight of the Twilight near crashing onto the beaches of Cantonica.

“Are you waiting for an invitation!” Shouted Ahsoka as the ramp lowered, and the two troopers rushed towards the ship.

“This karking dress!” You grumbled, a few feet behind them as the security team scrambled down the steps. Rex turned around and saw you fumbling with removing the shoes and ran towards you, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder in one fell, seamless beat. “I don’t need to be rescued.” You grumbled, pulling out your saber and deflecting the blaster fire that now approached you.

“Yeah, I know. Been looking for an excuse to hold you since that sleemo touched you earlier.” His hands gripped you tighter and you couldn’t help but grin as he brought you both on the ship, setting you down gingerly as Bubbles helped Ahsoka and Anakin pilot their way out of the atmosphere. Rex gave you one more wicked grin before whispering in your ear. “Think Senator Amidala would notice if you never gave the dress back.”

You winked back at him before giving his arm a pat, “I’m sure I can think of more excuses to wear it.”

#star wars #rex x reader #captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x f!reader #captain rex request #commander rex #clone trooper rex #requests #platonic!anakin

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 7 months ago

Note

A more normal ask this week I think

🧟

🔮🔮

⚡⚡⚡

🩸🩸🩸🩸

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

But because I'm a bit crazy about the prospect of these new ones

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐

And I'm obsessed with Cranberry

🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺

So more normal in terms of most of the numbers perhaps but still a bit extensive either way sorry lol

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Hey!!! Love these pyramids of emojis I've been getting. Don't be sorry AT ALL! I love it.

Okay 3 for 🧟:

---

Buck leads Bobby out back behind the community center portion of the building. A utility shed with power access, padlocked, is where Buck keeps all his fishing net gear and other miscellaneous things. It’s also where he’s hidden the radio, signal booster, and laptop.

---

6 for 🔮:

---

There is complexity in her expression. Not the plain grief of someone who has just lost a husband; something more confused than that. Something that makes Buck think, for whatever reason, of his sister.

The other boy, an older teenager - Charles? - is scowling. He sneers when the priest says something kind about his father. This takes Buck by surprise.

---

9 for ⚡:

---

He never had one the first time. But he’s fairly certain you’re supposed to, one, be a bachelor. Which Eddie is not, technically. And two, not spend the night more or less attached to the person you’re marrying. Which Eddie did.

And that’s exactly how Eddie wakes up. More or less attached to the actual bachelor in this situation.

He’s laying sideways across a hotel bed, legs hanging off the side of the mattress. Buck is pretty much flopped on top of him.

---

12 for 🩸:

---

“Please forgive me, Maddie,” Buck whispers.

Maddie exhales. “I feel like I should have known.”

“How could you have?” Buck asks.

“That 9-1-1 call, when you found him dead… I… It was horrible. I thought… I guess I thought a part of you sort of broke.”

Buck shrugs. “Maybe it did. I don’t know.”

---

15 for 🚨:

---

It all happens so fast.

One day, life is the way it is. The next, it seems, the world is ending. Decisions have to be made. Systems have to change. Everyone has to stay home. Everyone, excluding first responders. Things still need responding to.

For Eddie, it involves a hard choice. One he didn’t think he’d have to make. He’s spent the past nearly two months worried about dying. Mortality. Leaving his son orphaned and traumatized. Missing this beautiful life he’s somehow stumbled upon. And, well, he could. Nobody knows anything about this illness yet.

---

27 for 🔼:

---

If he thought he was confused before, Eddie is practically reintroduced to the concept of confusion. He has no understanding of what is happening or why. He feels dropped in a train station in an unfamiliar country, where no one speaks the languages he speaks, and the writing might as well be cuneiform. He has no idea why Shannon would do this to him. He has no idea why she would lie. He is so deeply angry. He is so deeply worried. He loves her. He hates her. He just wants her to be alright.

She is alright. Although, it takes hours for them to get official word on this.

Shannon’s shoulder is dislocated. They reset it; a painful process for her. That will heal, though they worry with the severity, it may require some physical therapy.

Her ankle isn’t broken. They think badly bruised and sprained. She’ll be off her feet for a little bit.

She’s banged up pretty badly from her fall. Lots of wounds that require cleaning. Bruising, to be sure. But no head or spinal injuries. This is the main thing. This is the best piece of luck. Everything else will heal.

Then there’s the other matter. The one that feels like a cold grip around Eddie’s heart.

---

27 for 💐

---

"Of course not, May. You’re always welcome. More than welcome.”

So she keeps coming.

One day, Hen and Buck approach her. May isn’t sure if Bobby put them up to it, or if there’s simply not a lot going on. Eddie, Chimney, and Ravi seem otherwise occupied with fire station chores, so she’s not sure how they got off easy. Either way, Buck takes a seat in the chair adjacent from her, and Hen sits beside her, and they both strike up a conversation. As it turns out, the exact sort of conversation she was looking to avoid.

“Alright, May,” Hen sighs. “What’s really going on?”

“What do you mean?” She asks, not looking up from her books. “I’m just studying.”

Hen clicks her tongue off the back of her teeth, unimpressed with May’s answer.

“Speaking as someone who tried to study for med school exams on this same couch? That’s bull.”

May scoffs. “Hey!”

“It’s kind of loud,” Buck backs Hen up.

“The alarm. The echoes. The constant activity.” Hen says. She points at Buck. “This one talking.”

“I’m kind of loud,” Buck agrees.

---

39 for 🦮:

---

Buck is actually sleeping when he gets the call.

It’s been nine months since he lost his leg, and in that time, he’s sort of gotten used to a normal schedule. Shift work kind of fucked with his circadian rhythms, and even before firefighting, he’d never had a proper routine. If he has to give it to one aspect of being traumatically medically retired from the career he loved, it’s the fucking routine. Getting a full night’s sleep every night? Game changer.

The point is, he’s asleep when it happens. Curled up with a fifty-five pound golden retriever, who is currently somehow the big spoon in this arrangement. And although nine months may have passed since he last took a call, when his phone starts ringing on his bedside table, Buck snaps awake with first responder levels of awareness.

He scrambles to grab the device, disrupting Cranberry, who gives a loud, dramatic sigh. She stands, walks from Buck to the opposite corner of the bed, and flops down, annoyed. Fair enough. Her beauty sleep is important.

“...Lo?” Buck slurs into the phone. He answers it without checking the caller. If it’s spam he’ll be pissed.

“Buck?” Bobby’s voice responds.

Buck feels suddenly twice as alert.

“Bobby? Is everything okay?”

“Have you been watching the news?”

“No? It’s the middle of the night.”

“It’s not even eleven.”

Okay. Well…

“Bobby, what’s going on?”

“It’s Eddie.”

Buck goes rigid.

“Is… Is he?”

“He’s okay. But he’s had a very close call.”

Buck sighs, relieved. That was the longest single second of his damned life.

“Jesus.”

“And he’s asking for you.”

#daisies and briars writes #things we're all too young to know fic #weary memory fic #go and kill go and die fic #long death fic #any other way fic #buddie shannon throuple fic #buck service dog fic

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blackjackkent · 11 months ago

Text

15 Lines Tag Meme

Tagged by @morganaseren

Tagging: @istibaethoriel @thedarkstrategist @astreamofstars @bardic-inspo (also retagging @morganaseren and @writer86 bc I did this slightly differently than y'all did and maybe you wanna try it this way too :D )

(Want me to tag you in work-sharing memes like this in the future? Toss a like on this post over here! Would love a bigger list of folks to tag. :) )

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well!

I just realized that I don't actually have a WIP currently running that involves an OC, which is a bit wild. (Two WIP Jaheira longfics and a bunch of one-shot ideas I haven't started yet. XD ) So I'm going to do this as not a WIP fic quote but instead fifteen different quotes from Hector across several different existing fics that are representative of his personality. (I'm not sure which the originator of the meme intended and I know prev (Lee) did it the other way XD but I'm gonna reinterpret the instructions bc this is where my brain is taking it instead.)

-----

“Where your Lady looks for emptiness, mine looks for…self-reliance,” he finally says slowly. “Which is itself…not conducive to…” He trails off. “I have not ever felt this way before.” (Happy For You)

Hector hesitates. “I think perhaps I ought to ask you to forgive me,” he says quietly. “There were– and still are– many steps along this path that I have not handled as I should have. I was…very confused for quite some time, and very afraid, and perhaps my actions betrayed too much.” (Happy For You)

“It was one of the mantras of grounding I was taught from when I was a very young boy,” he says. “To…calm myself when I was upset or angry, to stop crying or raging, take control of the feelings and quiet them.” (The Center Cannot Hold)

“I love it,” he murmurs. “And I will keep it close to me going forward, you can be sure of that.” He turns the small talisman in his fingertips, watching it catch the light. “I've seen many of these,” he adds reverently. “But never one of such fine make. And old, too. Some monk carried this through hell before it made its way to you. I suppose I will add to that tradition...” (The Mystery of the Night)

“I don’t think I can go back,” he finally says quietly. “Not after all of this. I’ve… changed too much.” (Riverbed)

“I don’t know how to do what they want me to do,” he says softly. “How to… be what they think I am.” (Riverbed)

“It is only through meditation and strength of will that we master our emotions,” he says. “So I was taught.” (What Good, This Heart of Stone?)

“Discipline,” he mutters. “To control one's body is to control one's mind.” (What Good, This Heart of Stone?)

“SHUT UP!” The roar bursts from him and cracks apart into a sob. Tears flood his eyes, blurring his vision. “Gods… please… just leave me alone. I can’t… I can’t… she is dying and she is in so much pain, and I can’t help her, I can’t stop it. If you were anything less than a monster, you would grieve with me, you would want to help her… you would give a single, solitary damn… but you don’t. All you care about is your fucking worm, and it’s all falling apart… it’s all gone… it’s all gone…” The tears are coming heavier now, choking him, blinding him. “What the hell am I going to do?” he whispers. “I won’t… I won’t do it, I won’t do what you want… I won’t become an… an abomination just to save my heart… I won’t take her choice from her… but how will I bear it…? ” ("Because of What You Are" - drabble)

He swallows the lump that forms in his throat at hearing these words. “There is so much… so much more to the world than I ever imagined…” (vision of selune - drabble)

He flinches, not meeting her eyes. “I was thinking about how I’m scared because I could die. And then I thought about how perhaps there is a certain level on which that would be the simplest outcome.” (night before the brain - drabble)

“You’re perfect,” he repeats softly, and to his shame he hears his voice tremble. “I just…have no idea what I’m doing, and you surprised me.” (Prayers and Hellfire)

“You make me smile,” he goes on when the kiss finally breaks. The words come slowly, carefully - he considers himself no orator, but there is an ocean of feeling inside him waiting to be spoken of. “So many terrible things we see out here, and yet you make me laugh. You see the good in everything, even when it looks so dark to me. You've suffered so much and you're still kind, still want the best for everyone.” He pauses, then adds with fervent sincerity, “And you are so… so beautiful…” (Prayers and Hellfire)

#morganaseren #tag meme #hector carlisle #idk if this is a way i was supposed to do this but it was definitely fun to do :P #this is making me think maybe i should go back through hector's liveblog and port some of the longer posts over to AO3 at some point

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akehoshimystar · 2 months ago

Text

Riku SSR

Walking through the city dyed in the color of Christmas Eve

Part 1

Ito: (What a beautiful illumination..... Seeing things like this reminds me that Christmas is near.)

(Hmm? Isn’t that…?)

Riku: Ito….. What a happy coincidence to meet you in a place like this.

Ito: Good evening, Riku-san.

Taking pictures? Did you get a good shot?

Riku: Just like always, I guess.

On the screen of the phone he handed me, a slightly blurred image of the illuminations on the trees was shown.

Ito: Wow, so elaborate. It looks more magical in the picture than it does in the view of the naked eyes.

Riku: Haha, thank you.

But I still want it to be even better. It's not easy at all to get the balance right.

Ito: (Riku-san seems to be having fun. He must really love taking pictures.)

Then, instead of the whole picture, why not just focus on one spot?

Riku: Ah, I see.

With that, the center will be captured clearly. I'll try it right away.

Hmm, here’s the result.

Ito: Ah…..

The center of the screen was a sturdy branch of a street tree. The composition overall had faint light surrounding the branch, making it even more beautiful than before.

Riku: Not too shabby, isn’t it? It's all thanks to your advice.

Ito: It’s not like I did much. But I'm glad I was able to help you

Riku: There you go again, miss humble. If you don't mind, can I send you this photo as a commemorative for today?

Ito: Thank you. Please do so.

Riku-san smiled and danced his finger on his phone before turning to me with a satisfied look.

Riku: So, where are you going?

Ito: I’m on my way to the shopping mall up ahead.

I finished work early today, so I thought I'd take a look at the daily necessities.

Riku: Another coincidence, huh.

Ito: Riku-san too?

Riku: Yeah. I was on my way to do a little shopping.

It must be fate that we met here, care to join me?

Ito: Of course.

Riku: I'm glad to hear that. It would be a waste to walk on this road alone.

Well then, let's go.

Ito: Yes.

Thus, we started walking to the shopping mall.

Part 2

A little while later, we arrived at a general store in a shopping mall.

Riku: Is this your destination?

Ito: Yes. What about you?

Riku: I also need to buy a few things here.

It’s not like there's any particular store I want to go to, so this place should suffice.

Ito: The timing was perfect then.

Riku: I guess you’re going to look at daily necessities.

There are probably things you want to see on your own, so let’s go do our own thing. And we will meet up again later.

Ito: Yes.

(Perhaps Riku-san was being considerate of me.)

As I was putting what I needed in my basket and enjoying looking at various miscellaneous goods. A beautiful aroma candle suddenly came into view. The pure white candle tester in the crystal container gave off a nice smell just by holding it.

Ito: (It's nice. But it's not like it's a necessity.)

(...I'll give up for today and think about it a bit more at home.)

Though I was feeling a bit reluctant, I gently put the candle back on the shelf and walked to the opposite corner.

Riku: Ito.

Ito: Oh, Riku-san. Have you finished shopping?

Riku: Yeah. Since I'll have a work meet-up soon, I got a Christmas present for the other party.

I know their preferences, so it didn't take long to choose.

Ito: (I expect nothing less from him.)

Riku: The hardest part here might be the wrapping paper. There are so many different types this season that it's hard to pick one.

Ito, if it were you, which one would you choose?

Ito: Me? Let’s see...

I looked at the sample wrapping papers in front of the cash register.

Ito: All the wrappings are lovely, but...

I think the one with a golden Christmas tree pattern on a white background is wonderful and has a special seasonal feel to it.

Riku: I'll use this as reference for the future.

Ito: This is just my opinion, so it can only serve as reference.

Riku: I know.

So, have you found anything you want to buy?

Ito: Yes. I've got everything I wanted...

There's a line at the register. I need to get going now.

Riku: Okay. I'll wait outside the store then.

After paying the bill and leaving the store, I spotted Riku-san sitting on a bench a short distance away.

Ito: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Riku: Don't worry, it’s not that long. More importantly, here.

Ito: Oh….

Riku: A cafe au lait I bought at the cafe in front of me.

It's cold outside, so drink this while go home. Also, it's getting late, so I'll walk you back.

Ito: Thank you very much. I don't know where to start repaying your kindness at all.....

Riku: Don't worry about it. I just want to talk to you a bit more.

Ito: Sure.

(Riku-san is really a textbook definition of a smart guy.)

Part 3

A few days later, Christmas day. In the midst of a busy cafe business, it's finally my turn for a break.

Ito: (It's hectic… As one could expect from Christmas...)

Riku: Good work. It was a great success, huh?

Ito: Riku-san? Good work.

Do you need something here?

Riku: Let me put this away for a bit.

Riku-san showed me a big paper bag he was holding behind his back.

Riku: To all my hard-working friends, Christmas presents from Santa.

I mean, don’t you think I look like one now?

As he laughed, Riku-san spread out the contents of a large paper bag. One after another, wrapped presents of all sizes were placed on the table.

Ito: That’s a lot...

Riku: Yeah. I bought a lot of things so that they can choose what they like and have fun doing it.… like, you know, a gift exchange party.

Since I have work after this, I thought I'd leave a note or something.

But now that you’re here, would you mind passing on my message to them?

Ito: Of course.

Riku: Okay, you’ve earned yourself a privilege.

Ito: Eh?

Riku: It's a thank you for telling them in my stead. Don't be shy, pick the one you like.

Ito: Really...?

Riku: Don't worry, everyone will exchange it as they like anyway after you choose.

Ito: ...If that's the case, I'll take you up on your offer.

I timidly looked at the presents lined up. And found a wrapping paper that looked familiar, after being drawn to it, I picked it up.

Ito: (A golden Christmas tree on a white background...)

May I take this one?

Riku: Of course, feel free to open it.

Ito: Yes.

At his urging, I unwrapped the package carefully so as not to tear it. Something familiar appeared from the inside….. A pure white aroma candle.

Ito: (Is this...?)

Riku: Jackpot?

Ito: So you noticed?

Riku: Who knows? I guess it's better to say nothing.

Ito: (When did he buy it anyway? ….No, more importantly….)

Thank you. I'm really happy.

Riku: That's good. If you're pleased with it, it's worth all the effort.

I'm pretty confident about the other presents too. I know everyone's preferences like a back of my hand.

Ito: (Riku-san looks pretty happy...)

Riku: Oh, it's time. I'll excuse myself now. Good luck with your work.

Ito: Yes, thank you very much.

Being alone in the room, I turned my attention back to the presents on the desk. I couldn’t be more certain they're all things that everyone liked. When I thought of Riku-san’s kindness that resembled that of Santa, my heart gradually warmed itself up.

#break my case #buremai #joseimuke #Tateshina Riku

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smurfetteskater · 3 months ago

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I was calmed, by— idk— unsettling heartache.

Jam sessions when bonding with Her, allowing me to at least be less emotional about where we stand and how we got here…

Still haven’t talked “boundaries”. I’m glad she just told me she’d like to have that conversation— I just know it’ll be emotional with perspective still.

I just can’t be— aroused so often only in the ways I regret, and almost never in the ways I need.

It’s allowed me to really… simmer down…

I thought to myself an hour or so after meeting her— wow— I actually finally calmed down.

Then we got uptown, to the place I left him earlier…

I… felt that fucking feeling. I feel it now. Warm glowing all around my vulva and squeezing and oozing from his property.

I haven’t wanted to be property in a while.

My puppy is my owner. Wow.

What a day.

My body is just responding again. I feel like that guy with the rock hard dick weeks out of control needy for his girl.

I feel like that because it’s so aggressive, so dramatic… to have a twitching hard dick you can’t hide…

I just gave this covert soaking wet gripp in my pannies 🥴🙂‍↕️

I��m just a nectar fountain, waiting to be splashed in and overflown around you. Waiting….

I should have known, Ashlesha. It’s my path— and boy have I waited…. Fuck.

Do you understand??? I’m with my first man.

I’m being awaken in a way that’s been buried in my chest clawing at my insides for decades hopefully not longer.

I’m finally doing that trust fall that lands me in a field of flowers, dusted with my everlasting flora for the rest of my days. Scented by the deflowering of my soul. I feel the glow in my chest and throat. The tears in the pit of my neck. The hardness of my swallowing.

I don’t know if anyone really gets it.

Maybe some cat yoni people, maybe my subs, maybe everyone who just does, whatever. I could expand my belief— but my engagement isn’t to the point of even caring who gets it…

I’m finally being held and squeezed and caressed and thrown and……. Caught.

I have been a fucking airball for so long.

Imagine flying for decades as a toy wanting nothing more than to be played with… by someone who actually knows what planet you’re from… what toy you are.

Bitch… I… I feel like Woody, and I’m finally in Andy’s arms. (🙂‍↕️ LMFAOOOO FR)

It’s so funny yet strange.

The man you’ve grown into……………. Goddamn.

Shit. You always were my favorite. The one who never counted as an ex…. Ey?

This is our first real time. It’s insane.

This… is insane.

……………………….. >c>

<o<…………. I just spiraled myself again.

Well. I lasted from 12:30pm till…. 5:10? Or so?

Not absolutely dying and feeling my body slip out of control… it was hard. I have to keep going though.

If I don’t control myself seriously and I get too excited again… I’ll have to tell him… and he didn’t tell me what the punishment was. He told me… he has some things in mind… 🙂‍↕️

Those eyes— did indeed have some things in mind.

The contents of someone’s mind being scary is… so amazing— when they’re your safe place, and you love dangerous men:

Fuck.

Thank you Jo.

I… I just can’t get over how you’re…. !!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG! YOURE UNCOILING ME.

That’s what—- *my back bucks back* *ehem* fuck. That’s what you keep doing to me when you touch my back. I know it’s something kundalini, I know he’s playing with my energy centers, I know he’s laying of his hands on me… to know he’s a gorgeous Georgian Floridian man… bitch I don’t wanna die. I just can’t! There’s so much to do!

Oh my god. I feel that glow in my throat.

I feel the— *throat restricts and my back arches* I feel the way I feel when he touches my back.

Like my coil is waking up.

Fuck. Even just the memory of his touch is making me do this… thing— (like the way Ariel looks in the original “Little Mermaid” when she’s getting her voice taken) I’m like stretching, yawning, feeling my throat stretch? It’s all connected. Coming from the base of my spine. It reaches my head, it just overwhelms me. Thinking about it makes me wet.

He… basically……. Oh myyy fuck, he basically.. just touches. Traces, palms, and puts weight on my back. Any of the touches. He just… opens me up, I audibly make my stretch noises… which admittedly already sound erotic, but it just hits so… fucking good, I wouldn’t blame myself it there is a little moan in there, but idk, it just comes out organically like a yawn or stretch would with its noises. If he squeezes me?! Forget abouddit. I’m— like… getting noises squeezed out of me like a real life moan toy. It’s embarrassing, but I know he enjoys it. My cat yoni consort// of course he enjoys it. It’s still so… unique though. I imagined I would have to go to a practitioner who’s gifted with the laying of hands to feel the manipulation of my body like that.

He is a cancer sun with a Pisces moon (like me with either a Leo rising (like me) or a Capricorn rising… Punarvasu in the big 3

I’m an Aries sun Pisces moon Leo rising… & I’m an Ashlesha in the big 3

Bitch idk I’m just saying. He also has like almost no earth like me. He’s so watery. I think he’s moving my guts around in more ways than he’s looking forward to. More than my guts. I feel like he’s massaging and playing with my spirit and my aura like it’s my pussy.

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harpersplay · 2 years ago

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Looking at the Emmy nominations and thinking about these articles by Nina Metz:

(1) Shouldn’t we want more from this portrait of a modern day robber baron grasping at the dying light of his reign as his blundering offspring clamber for position and a pat on the head? “Succession” isn’t glamorizing the brutal elitists of the world — there’s no mistaking showrunner Jesse Armstrong’s jabs; these are deeply unhappy people! — and of course they would be oblivious to the harm their petty, ego-driven actions have on anyone lower on the food chain. But the show mirrors that disinterest as well, and that’s what leaves me feeling so empty episode after episode.

[...]

Last week, someone emailed me to say, more or less, that TV and film don’t need to comment on anything. That’s true. And there’s nothing stopping you from engaging (or rather, not engaging) with “Succession” this way. But stories can, and in my view should, be many things at once — stand-alone entertainment and a reflection of how we think about the world around us. Sorting through these ideas only makes for a richer viewing experience, and if you’re uncomfortable with that, I don’t know what to tell you. But the people who make these stories — the writers, the actors, everyone — most assuredly talk about their work as if it has meaning. Why wouldn’t we, as audiences, take that as seriously as they do?

[...]

I come not to bury “Succession” nor to praise it, but to perpetually hope it will take up that messy space between paranoia and performative nonchalance. Between panic and adrenaline-fueled confidence. Between preening and obfuscation. These are people uncomfortable with their own humanity and never think twice about anyone else’s, and I often wonder about the subconscious effect of fiction that centers the point of view of the Roys of the world; even as they’re being satirized, they’re being elevated and treated with exquisite care by the writers. We laugh and cringe but also, who is being humanized? The white power brokers.

(source)

(2) The show’s driving force was the ongoing trauma doled out by a manipulative father and emotionally detached mother who left these siblings forever scrambling for validation, only to have it yanked from their grasp just when they think it’s within reach. They are incapable of keeping a secret long enough to surprise their adversary. They make the same mistakes, over and over. Can you not see their humanity? Can you not feel their anxieties? Who can keep a straight face watching these overindulged clowns slip on yet another banana peel?

How much of the show’s appeal was rooted in schadenfreude? They’re miserable, even with all that money — and hooboy, is it a lot of money. Why are they fighting over this company when they never even have to work?

Over four seasons, the series was filled with aspirational visuals, marvelous performances and biting-ridiculous interplay.

And yet, for me, “Succession” was a masterfully empty show. There was no room for anyone else but the Roys and their feelings.

That tunnel vision was by design and a nifty bit of deflection that provoked fan cams and weekly power rankings and questions of “who will end up on top???” because showrunner Jesse Armstrong had little interest in telling stories about anyone outside this family’s insular circle. There was no contrast — or anyone to meaningfully challenge to their worldview.

And that is “Succession’s” great fumble. As a show, it was too in love with the navel gazing of its central characters, becoming the equivalent of a closed room filling with carbon dioxide and muddling the ability to think straight. From a narrative standpoint, someone needed to open a window and let some air in.

[...]

You’re allowed to enjoy “Succession.” Liking or disliking the show isn’t a moral stance.

But it’s worth asking why so many prestige shows like “Succession” choose to center the concerns of fictional wealthy people while studiously avoiding a meaty critique of their influence.

(source)

(emphasis mine)

#media criticism #media representation #media analysis #succession #nina metz #what stories get told #whose stories get told #the screen is how we are seen #television review

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joonberriess · 3 years ago

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·˚ ༘ 💌 IMAGINE┊jungkook as a boxer and your boyfriend. he’s your ride or die and you’re his too. a modern day Bonnie and Clyde.

TAGS — toxic!jk, possessive sex, angry sex, angst, glamourized toxic relationship, abusive due to jk’s aggression be warned, headcanons + some plot!

WORD COUNT — 3.5 k

+ Jeon Jungkook is an infamous underground boxer, he doesn't play by the rules and he doesn't like a clean fight. You can guess what type of person he's like out of the ring. He's your typical asshole: snarky, perverted, and only intelligent in what seems like the streets. He's got issues. Loads of them and he isn't one to shy away things often being blunt since he could care less what people think of him.

+ Jungkook has a horrible habit of being in and out of relationships, none making it past a day or two cause his attention is being caught by a new girl. He can sweet talk like he's your prince charming but fucks you like a common whore. He's cocky too, knows the ladies want him and it strokes his ego to know they're all dying for him.

+ He meets you at a family wedding he goes to, you're sitting so pretty in the center with your arm tucked into your daddy's. So you're a good girl, he muses, it's all the more reason to approach you. He's infatuated, he has to have you now as there's no way he can skip out on the opportunity of a lifetime as he considers it. You end up rejecting him many many times cause you know of his reputation.

+ In your relationship he's possessive and jealous. Jungkook fully trusts you, he doesn't trust anyone else and sees himself like your protector to which he is (to a certain extent) but he needs to understand not everyone is threat. Jungkook loves you more than life itself, he's downright obsessed with the idea of being with you until the end of time but overall he tries to be a good boyfriend to you. Even if your father doesn't approve of him, *cue the "daddy pass the salt" fiasco.

━ (음악)

; his playlist

1. todas mueren por mi - cartel de santa

2. first class - jack harlow

3. love n hennesy - a.chal

4. bonnie & clyde - dean

5. malibu - ph-1

"Y es que es asi, todas muren por mi, y es que es asi, todas muren por ti," - Cartel De Santa

"If I were you I wouldn't," some girl pipes up from beside you, "woman to woman, he's not good for you." You're not stupid, you know who she's referring to and you can feel a small amount of annoyance hit you.

"Well," you softly smile, it's in your nature to be polite even if she is meddling in what doesn't concern her, "good thing you aren't me."

She scoffs, mumbling something about it being your loss but you see it as a win. You're so used to all these girls pitying you and trying to "warn" you about Jungkook. You know perfectly the type of guy he was and is right now. It wasn't like you jumped in blindly you made sure to be very clear with him, one screw up and you were leaving.

Jungkook's infamous playboy behavior exceeds him, no one can believe the once eligible bachelor is now in a relationship. His little groupie is so disappointed their favorite fuck buddy was off the market. They wonder how you do it given his little reputation and stuff. Do you ever get tired of random girls telling you he used to text them? Or how about the ones who "tried" warning you of his fuckboy tendencies?

Though Jungkook isn't the only one who's questioned often times. You're his polar opposite, you're not made for the lifestyle he leads on. As far as the public knows you're the daughter of a rich businessman who's family friends with the Jeons. You study in a prestigious university majoring in literature and working a internship in a journal company. They perceive you as a socialite and total snob due to your rich girl status, how wrong they were..

You finish applying a small layer of strawberry gloss on your pouty lips and head back out into the arena. You sit front row next to Yoongi who's watching Namjoon motivate Jungkook before the next round begins. They're both his mentors and you've come to see both men as friends and older brothers. "He's doing great so far, if he keeps this up he'll win right..?" You softly say to Yoongi.

"Yes, Kook's doing great with his speed and catching the poor bastard off guard but he needs to slow down or else he'll slip up and the other will get a upper hand on him. We don't need Kook to come back with fractured ribs again." Yoongi replies with a sigh, offering some peanuts to you.

"No thank you," you hum, "you know how he is, always eager and overzealous."

Yoongi grunts as he slouches in his seat, "Well he needs to cut that shit out before he gets his ass knocked out one of these days. If it ain't his opponent, it's gonna be me." He smirks lazily.

The match goes back into motion as the referee is yelling something to the crowd. Your heart is beating quickly, you pray to the gods above they send you your man back in one piece with no broken bones (his case fractured ribs). You've never liked this because the blood and the violent punches scare you. Especially because this is Jungkook you're talking about.

You watch with close eyes, Jungkook looks angry and it's both hot and scary at the same time. He's got sweat building up on his forehead, hair sticking to his skin, and jaw clenched as he throws punches left and right. So far Jungkook has been in the lead all night as he chooses to surprise his opponents. You're feeling a little bit of adrenaline running through your veins as you watch the match.

"C'mon, you got this..." You whisper softly and clench your fists.

The poor dude doesn't stand a chance anymore, he's losing his momento and his technique is getting sloppy. Jungkook must have tired him out already.. You find yourself smiling and yelling with joy as Jungkook manages to corner him. He's so, so close and your breath hitches in anticipation as the final punch is thrown and the dude goes falling to the ground. Everyone cheers for Jungkook, chanting his name as Namjoon crowds Jungkook after he's announced winner.

You eagerly make your way up to the stage, watching as Jungkook walks towards you simultaneously with dark eyes. He licks his lips chest heaving from the aftermath of the match, he seems like he's running on pure adrenaline now. Before you can even reach the ropes he hauls you up effortlessly, grabbing the back of your hair with one hand and roughly squeezing your ass through your dress with his other.

He kisses you with his all groaning softly while his hand kneads your ass massaging it in a more comforting manner rather than sexual. You bring your small hands to cup his face as you kiss back. Everyone's still celebrating and some close friends that came are catcalling you two. Jungkook tightens his hold as he pulls back, forehead against yours as he pants hotly against your mouth.

"I fuckin' did it baby," he mutters to you, "did it just for you."

You smile softly, "I'm proud of you," you mumble back and kiss his lips very gently, contrast to earlier, "I knew you could."

Jungkook chuckles breathily, "Let's get the fuck outta here yea? I wanna fuck the shit out of you in the locker rooms." He grins slapping your ass.

You want to chastise him but he does end up fucking you in the showers. Your little fur coat is messily thrown on a bench and a trail of clothes leading to the shower cubicles lay strewn around. It's a little steamy in there and Jungkook's got his strong arms pinning you up against the tiles as he works his thick cock in and out of you.

Your moans are soft and whiny, your toes clench and your thighs shake every so often from his cock stroking your g-spot from this angle. His wet body presses up against yours, his chest is firmly pressed to yours and your nipples rub against his wet skin every time he bounces you up and down his cock. "Mmm.. yeah," you softly moan, "right there, 's so good," you whine quietly.

Jungkook grunts quietly as he adjusts his grip on your bubbly ass, fat spilling from between his fingers as he hoists you upward and begins to drive his cock into you faster. "Right there baby? Want me to fuck you harder with my fat cock? C'mon baby, tell me you love it, love how full it makes you feel and hard it makes you cum.." He whispers in your ear.

You moan loudly at the dirty talk, back arching a little, "I-I love it..! Fills me up so good Kook, only you can make me cum like this!" You whimper towards the end, arms sliding down from his shoulders to simply being wrapped around his back.

"Damn right I am," he growls, "you're fucking mine, this pussy belongs to me and I don't wanna see anyone near it. Only I'm allowed to fuck you like this," he says as he pistons his hips faster, "say it. Say you belong to me, let them hear it baby,"

You squeal at the change of pace, arms coming up behind you to grip the top of the half-wall as he rocks you back and forth on his cock. It's too much and you can feel your pussy clamping down on him, "I'm yours! My pussy belongs to you," you cry, ".. Jungkook..! Jungkook!" You call out over and over as he fucks you like a man on death row.

Jungkook smirks softly, "Damn right," he kisses you while he plows away at your sensitive pussy. He thoroughly marks you as his and makes sure the whole damn hallway could hear you that night. He walks you down the hall later that night feeling refreshed as ever with his arm around your waist holding your ass as you stay cuddled up to him with a sweet adorable smile.

"Dame un poco love with some Hennessy, you know I like it when you're mad at me," - A.Chal

You're bubbling with annoyance as you storm around your shared apartment trying to find something to do, something that doesn't involve seeing his face. Jungkook was following occasionally, muttering curses and shaking his head at your "childish behavior". He's getting riled up too even though he has nothing to be angry about, he also has no right either since he started this whole mess.

The "mess" you're referring to occurred moments before arriving at home together. You were both hungry so you both said "hey, fuck it why not try that new barbecue place down the street?" and then you both went to the damned restaurant.

Everything's chill you're both enjoying the scenery around you, the waitress is very friendly and helpful and you both get your order and drinks quickly because the place isn't busy. Everything's going so well. You're happy, Jungkook's happy, everyone is so where did it all go to shit?

Jungkook is to blame (partly because he didn't look for the fight) but it was those preppy assholes from your university. They're sons of your parent's friends and you have met them before. Yet it did not give them the right to comment about your boyfriend or relationship.

They came over saying shit like "does your dad know who you're with?" or "why don't you ditch this lowlife and come get some drinks with us?" You're beyond angry and open your mouth to give them a piece of your mind but Jungkook beats you to it.

"Her dad perfectly fucking knows who she's with and where she's staying at, I don't recall ever asking for your fucking opinion on my girlfriend." Jungkook lowly mutters as he glares, "If I were you I'd fucking leave before I get my ass beat for acting a fool."

The one who started it laughs, "I dare you to put your hands on me, if you do—" he's cut off by Jungkook punching him right across the face.

"Say that again? I couldn't quite hear you?" Jungkook smirks as he yanks his head back, "C'mon, what were you gonna do?"

You scramble to get up, "Jungkook please," you softly beg, "let's just go okay? Ignore them they're not important."

Jungkook doesn't let up, only delivering another sucker punch to the gut. "Say it," he growls.

"L-Let go of me! My father will hear about this and when he does you're in so much shit! y/n get your—" he's cut off once again by Jungkook who's fucking livid.

You can see the crowd forming and the waitress from earlier on the phone speaking frantically. You feel angry, and worried because Jungkook was going to be in huge trouble if things weren't stopped now. You shakily breathed and looked around unsure of what to do.

It's about to turn into a full on fight because Jungkook pushes the asshole to his limits and now he's going to fight back. But you'd be damned if anyone put their hands on your man like that. You lift a bottle of soju and smash it against the dude's head as he's disoriented, "We are going home." You seethe to Jeongguk and toss the broken bottle top to the floor.

You're angry as hell right now and the press can kiss your ass, hell you work for the damn press you'll write the damn story yourself. You mutter to yourself and get into the car, arms crossed and face fixed to a cold stare.

“Baby,” Jungkook breathes out, entering the vehicle and sitting there looking at you in disbelief, “baby..?”

“Home.” You glare, and the rest of the ride is driven in silence and the occasional comment that dies out on Jungkook’s tongue halfway as he lets you mope around.

That’s how you’re in this predicament, pacing around at home angrily and huffing because the day is ruined. Not by Jungkook (maybe), but by those preppy assholes who think you’re friends or something. You didn’t even like them, you tolerated them. There was a difference between being cordial and rude.

“y/n.” Jungkook calls out, you ignore him and he calls out to you a total of two more times until he himself grows impatient and bothered. “Fucking hell y/n what do you want me to do?! Apologize? Say sorry for fucking defending myself against those daddy’s boys?!” He erupts in your face, hands holding your arms so tight you know you’ll bruise.

“You attacked him in a restaurant Jungkook! That wasn’t the fucking ring in there and you know it! Don’t you ever just leave boxing back in the ring? You always do this when things don’t go your way or the slightest inconvenience hits you and I’m sick of it! One of these days Jungkook they’ll arrest you and so help me I won’t be there to help you.” You glare, shaking him off as you pound your little fists on his chest.

Jungkook scoffs, “Oh that’s what we’re doing now? Taking their side? You fucking slut,” he shoves you hard making your back hit the wall as you stumble a little, “given the opportunity you’d jump at any chance to get on their cocks wouldn’t you? You’re a good for nothing—”

You cut him off with a slap, “Who the hell do you think you are? Accusing me of this stupid crap get over yourself Jungkook! You’re so far up your own ass you don’t even know what you’re saying to me.” You snap as you storm past him, heading right to your bedroom to pack a overnight bag.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I’m not done talking to you!” Jungkook yells as he follows you, “Oh classic y/n move, pack your shit and run from the problems yeah real classy move.” He sneers.

“Leave me alone,” you say as you shove random clothes into a bag, “I’m done talking with you, I’m not going to sit here and let you disrespect me or our relationship.”

Jungkook grabs the bag from your hands, “You aren’t going anywhere, you’re gonna unpack all this shit and we’re going to talk because isn’t that what you always want?! To talk?!”

You stare into Jungkook’s eyes as he crowds you, “Fuck. You.” You seethe angrily, you’re not one to cuss but when you do it’s because you’re absolutely losing it.

“What was that?” Jungkook suddenly growls, “Go on, repeat that shit to me.”

“I said: fuck you Jungkook. You’re a goddamn asshole and it’s a miracle I’ve stayed this fucking long with you!” You yell in his face as the both of you have a screaming match.

Things are thrown, picture frames shattered, and the room is in such disarray you’re not sure anyone can sleep in there. You take your anger out on him, letting all the pent up anger from before bubble up. This feels exhilarating but tiring at the same time, yelling took so much energy..

At one point he grabs you roughly, pressing you on the wall as he smothers you in a harsh kiss. The sexual tension had built and was at its’ boiling point. You found yourself kissing him back just as fierce and hungry. Your hands tangled in his hair and you harshly tugged on the soft strands.

“Fuck,” he moans against your mouth as he reaches down to unbuckle your jeans and push his hand inside your panties.

You arch into his touch, hands coming down to grip his forearm as you move your leg to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. A soft shaky sigh leaves your lips as his hand cups your soft pussy, his finger dipping between your folds to rub at your clit.

He presses on the bud and rubs back and forth as his head drops down to your neck. He leaves a series of hickeys on your skin as his free hand grips your hip tightly and holds you firmly against him. “You like that?” He murmurs hotly in your ear.

You pant and wiggle around in your place as your lower half is engulfed in pleasure. Your sensitive clit makes your hips jump in surprise every so often whenever he rubs in a particular way. The feeling is a little overwhelming but in a good way.

“Love it,” you whisper back and tangle a free hand in his hair as you grip it tightly, “but I want something else.”

“Tell me baby, what do you want?” Jungkook pulls back to stare down into your eyes as he slips his fingers past your tight slicked up hole as he fills you.

Your mouth falls open, eyes fluttering shut as you tighten your grip, “Mmm–you, want your cock in me,” you moan out, “want it to fill me up, make me cum over and over again..” You whisper seductively as you lick your lip.

Jungkook groans softly as he picks up the speed in your panties. He moves his fingers quicker, creating this squelching noise as your wetness dribbles down to his palm. His hand is cramping but the pain is worth it as he watches your face contort into pleasure. “Yeah..? What else baby? C’mon be a good girl and tell me.”

“Ohh..! Mm–want you to hold me down on the bed and make me take it. Don’t want it to stop until I’m crying and shaking, want you filling me up with your cum till it’s dripping–Jungkook,” you whine as you arch your back, “Call me your little slut, choke me, slap me, god just ruin me,” you whimper.

Jungkook moans at your words, he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. The anger and sexual tension from before left you excited, you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long due to your overzealousness. You moan and cry out for him as your pussy is rapidly approaching its’ release. You clench on his fingers and shake as he sends you barreling into hot pleasure.

It’s utter bliss as you slump into his arms and sigh happily as you ride out your orgasm. He slows down and manages to hold you against him as he pants softly, “I’m sorry baby,” he breathes out.

You swallow thickly, staring up at him with a soft pout, “I’m sorry too..” You murmur and cradle his face, “You know I’d never mean those words right?” Not even you were sure if you meant those words..

Jungkook nods slowly as he presses his forehead to yours tenderly, “I didn’t meant shit either, you know how I get.. I promise I’ll try harder next time to not lose my temper in public.”

It’s a lie, he’ll be on his best behavior for a week max and then it’s back to normal. You’re used to this and you find yourself not caring as you hum in agreement, “Good.”

You love Jungkook. You’d do just about anything and he’d do the same. You’re a match made in heaven.

[ ☁️ ] : ps that lil collage, pics edited so don’t worry ;)

#bts smut #bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jungkook smut

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bcdrawsandwrites · 3 years ago

Photo

[ID: A Psychonauts fanfic cover. Most of the picture is in grayscale in addition to three colors. Loboto stands on the left side of the cover with his back to the viewer, the view over his right shoulder, a threatening smile on his face as he holds out his claw. Bright green and red lights shine down from his loupes and down onto Raz and Oleander, who are huddled together close to the center of the image. They are both looking up at Loboto and appear very small compared to him. Raz’s goggles are on, and he looks scared and apologetic, holding his hands up in defense. Oleander stands behind Raz, grabbing him by the shoulders and holding him in front of himself as he looks up at Loboto in terror. The red and green lights are reflected off of them. Circling in the air around them and held up by purple telekinetic psychic powers are a number of tools. Counterclockwise starting from the bottom left are a rusty syringe with a bent needle, a hooked dental pick, an ice pick, a hammer, and a strange-looking drill (similar to the one Loboto has in his lab). Loboto and the tools’ shadows are cast over Raz and Oleander, though their faces are illuminated by the light from Loboto’s eyes. The rest of the room around them is very dark. The fic’s title “Psychics Ruin EVERYTHING” is in light text on the top right. /end ID]

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: K+

Genre: Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Razputin Aquato, Caligosto Loboto, Morceau Oleander, Truman Zanotto, Otto Mentallis, Sasha Nein, Milla Vodello (and briefly Morris and Queepie). (The fic mostly involves the first three!)

Warnings: References to canonical child abuse and medical abuse in future chapters (more warnings to be added later)

Description: A few days after the whirlwind of events of Psychonauts 2, Razputin receives his first mission as a Junior Psychonaut: go into the mind of the recently-re-captured Caligosto Loboto and make sure he’s ready to be released... and if not, well... go from there. But it shouldn’t be that hard, right? Loboto’s all better now that his moral compass is back... isn’t he?

Beta Readers: @jaywings and @of-science-and-stars and Pinky G. Rocket

Notes: FINALLY. I started this fic back in August last year and I have been dying to post it since. This will be multiple chapters (looking like about 7 at the moment) and I’m going to try to post a chapter a week. (Most of the fic is already complete!) Also, this fic will make references to some of my previous fics, BUT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO HAVE READ THEM TO UNDERSTAND THIS! This can be read on its own!

---~~~---

Chapter 1: First Assignment

Summary: In which Raz feels uneasy about his new title... until he receives his first mission.

---~~~---

“...and so it's, um, still a lot to think about, you know? Since it just happened uh…” Raz paused, flicking his fingers up and down, counting out the digits. “...yesterday? Yesterday.”

“Understandable,” Morris replied.

Raz shifted in his seat. “On second thought, maybe we should have waited a week or something for this to settle before—”

Morris shuffled his notes, the fwip of paper against paper drowning out Raz. "So, now that you're an official Junior Psychonaut—"

"Hey, you are, t—"

Morris cleared his throat and gave Raz a glance. "Now that you're an official Junior Psychonaut, what are your plans?"

"Well, obviously I'm gonna...." Raz blinked and leaned away from the mic on the back legs of his chair.

Morris leaned forward on his wheelchair and waved Raz forward with one hand. "Yes?"

"Now that we—er, now that I'm officially a Psychonaut... I'm not sure what to do. I haven't exactly been given any missions yet, other than to familiarize myself with the Motherlobe, the quarry, and..." He gestured with raised palms, even though the less than half-a-dozen people listening to the station couldn't see them. "...other stuff. ...Am I really going to be going on missions?"

"You say that like you've never been on one!" Morris said, raising a single eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but this is for real. Really real. Really official. Not as an intern! And without, y'know, messing with—"

Dude, Morris rang out inside Raz’s head. Raz darted his eyes to the side; Morris stared back with a grimace, while waving a flat palm beside his throat.

"—um, stuff," Raz finished. “You don't want to mess up as an official Psychonaut! Now that you've got an official job and everything... wow. You know, this sounds a lot more stressful when I put it that way—”

"AND that's all the time we have for today!” Morris called into the mic while pulling it away from Raz. Raz jumped in his chair at the volume of Morris’ voice, nearly tipping over. “Thanks for listening to K-L.O.B.”

Morris set the mic back down on the table and tweaked a few knobs on the radio. Then, he turned to look at Raz, staring at him with a slightly squinted stare.

"Wow," Queepie commented from the corner. "You're really bad at this."

"My thoughts exactly," Morris said, leaning back in his chair. "Our listeners probably tuned out halfway through."

"Hey, it's just been a lot to think about!" Raz tossed up his hands over his head. "This only happened, what, yesterday?"

"Two days ago."

“Two days?” Raz blinked and looked at his fingers again. I’m not that bad at math, am I?

"Mom says you slept eighteen hours," Queepie added.

"Oh." Raz scratched the back of his head. "I guess that's why I feel so... off."

"Really though, you haven't thought about going on missions?"

"I mean, growing up, yeah."

"...Aren't you like, ten?"

"Yeah, but... I read every True Psychic Tales issue I could get my hands on, and imagined myself going on missions like that... But I'm not so sure those tales are as 'true' as they say anymore." He rested his chin against his hand, then gave a start. "What am I saying?! I know they're not! The issue about Maligula was a bunch of baloney!" Raz found himself pacing around the little treehouse. "They painted Lucy as some kind of... of irredeemable monster, and everyone else as these heroes who never did anything wrong... And they said Helmut was dead!" He paused, rubbing a finger against his chin and glancing aside. "And they misspelled his name with two 't's, come to think of it. Should've been my first clue that something wasn't right."

Turning away from his brother and his fellow intern—er, junior agent—Raz looked through the doorway and out into the quarry, its waters a blinding orange as the sun set over them. "But after spending time with these people, and... going on real missions myself... I know these things aren’t always as heroic and fun and cool as they sounded."

Memories of bad mental connections in Hollis's mind, Sasha and Milla dazed with psilirium sickness, and the office construct being overtaken by mountains of teeth and gums and tongues filled his mind.

"They're... messy."

Morris quirked one of his eyebrows. "Man, I should have left the mic on." He shook his head. "Really though, what are you trying to say?"

Finally, Raz turned back. "I'm saying I... don't know what I'll be doing now that I'm a Psychonaut. I have no idea what to expect."

Queepie and Morris exchanged glances. "Well... that's the point, isn't it?" Morris asked with a shrug. "We're secret agents. Every mission's gonna be different."

"Yeah... I guess so."

"Well, one thing that's predictable... is the cafeteria's schedule!" Without warning, Morris zoomed past Raz and out the doorway. "I'm getting dinner. Hold down the fort for me, will you Queepie?"

"Got it!" Queepie pushed his seat over to the radio, which began to blast “Welcome to My Mind” for the eightieth time that day.

Giving the kid a thumbs-up, Morris began hopping his chair down the path out of the treehouse. "You coming, Raz?"

"Oh, yeah! I'll... be right there!" Raz called back, and wrapped his arms around himself. "Maybe, anyway."

"You're not going?" Queepie asked as he bounced around in his seat.

"I dunno. I'm still... thinking about stuff." He turned back to his younger brother. "Do you really think I'll be going on a real mission soon?"

Without stopping his dance, Queepie only shrugged. "How should I know? I dunno anything about your weird job."

"Guess not." Sighing, Raz made his way out of the treehouse. "See you around."

"If you're gonna get food, could you get me a soda?"

"Nah, I think you're good without the sugar."

Leaping off the platform, Raz grabbed a thought bubble and gently floated down to the ground. After a few more acrobatic-slash-psychic stunts, he arrived at the entrance to the Motherlobe. Many agents were casting long shadows across the stone floor as they entered and exited the building, either heading home for the day or arriving for an evening shift. Everything felt at ease; no one gave him a second glance, and he only heard the barest mentions of the events of two days ago other than comments on the updated mural and remarks about the "wild storm." He passed the receptionist, who earlier that day had indicated she hadn't realized anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Was this just... normal?

A ThinkerPrint scan and quick levitation-lift ride later, Raz found himself in the Atrium, still as full of people as it had been earlier, though many of them were heading to the Noodle Bowl. They were just fellow agents going about their day, like he would be, too, now. But in spite of all his exploration, everything was still so... new to him. Not the parts like the Atrium and Nerve Center and other wings—he still felt a thrill run through him as he remembered that he was really here—but there were still parts he hadn’t seen, not labeled on the tourist map he’d been given. On top of that, his mind still reeled at the thought that he would be expected to be here every day. And all these people... even though he could pick out the names of agents and workers around him via natural mind-reading, he didn't really know them.

He didn't know what he was doing, either.

Change like this shouldn’t have felt so weird, should it? He was a circus performer—he’d been traveling his whole life, seeing new places, new people… but it was always the same shows. Occasionally there were new acts, and occasionally they’d partner with different circuses, but what was expected of him was a constant.

Now it was the complete opposite—he would be in the same place, but his missions might be wildly different each time. But this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?

So… why was the thought of it making his stomach tie itself in knots?

The doors to Astral Lanes swished open, and a couple stumbled out, leaning against each other as they talked and laughed. Raz watched them go, feeling a tug within him—he was an agent too, just like them. Why couldn't he be that happy? (Well... other than the fact that he wasn't going to be consuming alcohol for another ten years or so at least.) Maybe he should talk to...

A moment later he found himself walking through the long hallway into the bowling alley, hurrying around the shoe rental. "Sash—uh, Agent Nein—"

He skidded to a halt to stop himself from bumping into another agent, who laughed, adjusting his tie. "Wow! I didn't know I looked that tall."

"Ugh, sorry." Raz looked around the bar area, his heart sinking when he saw no sign of Sasha or Milla. "Hey, um, have you seen Agents Nein and Vodello, by any chance?" Remembering something they'd said earlier, his heart raced. "They haven't left for camp yet, have they?!"

The man's brow furrowed. "Uh... man, I dunno, kid. They're probably too busy to sign autographs though—"

"They got called up Truman's office," the bartender called from across the room. "Sounded like something came up."

"Oh no...!" Raz's heart was pounding in his throat as he bolted out of the bowling alley and to the nearest Otto B.O.N., only to growl in frustration when it refused to open. "What now?"

"Apparently there was an issue with the hatches," a nearby janitor said, mopping the floor by Raz's feet and prompting him to move away. "They're shut down for now."

Groaning, Raz hopped onto his levitation ball, barreling toward the Nerve Center to take the long way to Truman's office. His mind raced during a ThinkerPrint scan that felt like it took an age. Had Gristol escaped? Had something gone wrong with the Astralathe? Had something happened to Ford or Nona or—?!

The doors slid open, and Raz barreled through. He had to carefully swerve around workers in the huge room, at one point bouncing over the head of one who nearly walked into him. Several people were abuzz about something, but he didn't have time to stop and listen, instead heading straight up to Truman's office.

Maybe Truman wasn't okay after all, maybe something had happened to him! Was Lili—what the heck was so loud?

Raz stopped just before the stepping stones that led up to the office. Now that he'd been broken out of his thoughts, he could hear what sounded pretty close to a wild animal snarling just around the corner, the voices of Sasha and Truman and a few others barely audible above it.

"Psychic wolverines!" Raz cried. "I knew it!"

After a few hops across the rocks (ignoring the now-friendly watery hand that waved as he passed), Raz dismissed his lev ball and struck a psychic pose atop the stairs. "Don't worry Truman, I—"

Raz faltered.

Standing before him was Sasha, Milla, Oleander, Truman, and Otto, who all stared at him in surprise. And hovering in the midst of them was a figure he was not expecting to see again anytime soon.

Doctor Loboto, held in place by a psychic fist, swiveled his mechanical eyes down to stare at him. "Say, you look familiar."

"Uh."

"Agent Aquato," Sasha said, and Raz stood taller, unable to stop himself from smiling. "Your presence is... unexpected, but at least you've gotten our captive to quiet down."

His smile fell. "Uh, sorry, I just wanted to catch you before..."

"We're a bit preoccupied at the moment, darling," Milla said.

"Yes!" Otto raised his hand and, with it, the psychic fist holding the doctor. "I found this fellow wandering lost through my Otto B.O.N. system. Seems he escaped from the lab when no one was looking."

Raz stiffened, shuffling his feet and looking away. "Oh. Uh... weird how that happened."

"I wouldn't be lost if you told me how to leave!" Loboto grunted, struggling in the fist. "I have to get back to camp!"

"What, did you leave your car keys there?" Oleander remarked with a smirk.

"No, I left the keys to the spare brain tank," Loboto shot back.

Oleander's eyes widened as he broke into a grin. "There's still a spare—?!" Sensing the stares around the room, he took a step back, hands on his hips. "I mean, uh... I'll... have to dismantle that when I get back."

"That man is absolutely not leaving this place!" Truman cried, swiping his hand as he stepped toward Loboto. "He was an accomplice to the man who stole my brain!"

"Yes, it took a while to pry Nick Johnsmith's name out of him," Sasha remarked, and Loboto froze.

"Wait, hold on..." Raz held up a hand. "We got the information we needed from him, right?"

"Maybe so, but Truman is right." Sasha turned his gaze to Loboto, who had gone a shade paler and was muttering faintly to himself. "Even though Gristol Malik has been detained, Loboto could still be a danger to others. We cannot let him leave."

"I have to!" Loboto wailed, kicking out his feet. "My kid's still at camp!"

Sasha, Milla, and Oleander exchanged bewildered glances (or Raz figured Sasha must have looked bewildered behind his goggles), and Raz joined them, looking from Loboto to the counselors a few times. He couldn't help but feel relieved that they were as lost as he was. "So uh, did he really have a...?"

"If he had a kid," Oleander began, eyeing the doctor, "he didn't mention it to me when we were planning—" He faltered. "Uh, when, um, we infiltrated his mind."

"What?" Loboto's eyes darted toward Oleander, his brows furrowed.

"Caligosto," Milla said gently, "none of the children that attended camp last week share the same last name as you. Unless your spouse has a different last name—"

"Spouse?" Loboto's optics pulled back. "I don't have one!"

"Then why would your child—"

"I never said he was one of those kids! Unless you started accepting lungfish at your weird psychic—"

"Linda?!" Raz blurted out. Immediately he started cracking up, bending over as he gripped his sides. "Your kid is Linda?!"

"Who's Linda?!" Loboto snarled.

"The lungfish you experimented on?" Raz raised his head, still giggling, only to realize everyone was staring at him. Quickly he straightened, his giggle turning into a nervous chuckle. "She... uh... told me that was her name."

"Huh." Oleander rubbed a knuckle against his chin. "Didn't know it had a name."

"She, he, Linda, Larry, whatever, I need to get back to her!" Loboto hung his head. "I left her all alone in that cold, cruel lake..."

"Uh... pretty sure she's fine. I sorted out everything in her mental world and she was doing pretty good when I left." Raz turned to the others. "Did you know that her boyfriend's a turtle?"

"...Turtle?” Loboto squeaked, shuddering.

"Well, now that that's settled, it doesn't look like you've got any reason to leave here anytime soon," Otto remarked, tugging Loboto slightly closer. "Like I was saying earlier, if you let me pop out his brain, I could—"

"AAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHH!"

Everyone flinched back, Truman and Oleander rolling their eyes while Raz covered the sides of his helmet, for all the good it would do.

Sasha let out a tremendous sigh. "Just when I thought we'd gotten past this..."

"Now, now," Otto said, turning Loboto to face him. "If you let me have a peek at your brain it would certainly—"

If it were possible, the doctor began screaming louder, struggling even harder to get away.

Around the pain in his head from the noise, Raz glanced in annoyance between Loboto and Otto. Couldn't he see he was just aggravating—

Raz gave a start. "Wait!"

Mercifully Loboto stopped screaming as everyone turned to Raz once more. The doctor's mechanical eyes darted between Otto and Raz, brows creasing as he looked at the latter.

Initially Raz thought to bring up what he'd seen in Loboto's memory vault several days ago, but faltered. He certainly wouldn't want anyone bringing up his memory vaults out of the blue, so maybe... "Uhh... Agent Nein already used a bunch of devices on his brain the other day," Raz said, looking between Sasha and Otto. "Right?"

"Of course, but there's still plenty more I could do without—"

"Maybe you'd get, um, better results if you gave his brain a break from machines for a while," Raz proposed.

Sasha and Otto exchanged glances. "Well... he's not wrong," Sasha admitted. "It would yield more accurate results if he were given time to rest. I did have to use quite a lot of different devices to uncover what he was hiding."

"...I suppose you're right," Otto said, and Raz couldn't help noticing the way he slumped as he spoke.

Loboto heaved a sigh of relief, his terror quickly replaced by annoyance. "Right, and I'd be able to rest well if you let me get back to—"

"However," Otto went on, "Malik did do a number on him—more than could normally be expected from a non-psychic. I do think that brain would be quite interesting to study in the future, so we can better understand what—"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"No testing!" Truman cried, waving his hands. "Not if it means we'll have to deal with that screaming!" Once the doctor shut up again, he stepped back, a hand to his head. "Ooof, a migraine's the last thing I need right now, after everything else my brain's been through..."

"Not to mention the poor thing's scared enough as it is," Milla said. She took a step closer to Loboto. "What he really needs is a look into his head—"

"AAA—"

Milla gently tapped him on the tip of the nose, shutting him up. "In your mind, darling, no brain-removal or machines involved."

"Oh," Loboto said dully. "I knew that!"

"Who has time for that though?" Oleander asked. "We've got camp again in less than a week, and some of us have some things to wrap up before then."

Sasha nodded. "Yes, I still have Malik to attend to."

"Yes, Sasha, and you'll need help with that," Milla added, though Raz got the feeling that "help" probably involved more of keeping Sasha in-line.

"Ah, astral projection without the use of additional machines isn't quite my forte," Otto admitted. "Besides, I've research to do to figure out how to get Helmut's body out of the ice."

"I've still got things to catch up on, and Hollis will be out for two weeks..." Truman shook his head. "Most of our other senior agents are out on missions right now, too."

Missions...

Raz looked around at the agents in the room, then at Loboto. "Hey," he said, eyes going wide. "I don't have a mission assigned right now! I could work with Doctor Loboto!"

Immediately the adults turned their attention to him, including Loboto, whose eyes swiveled as he looked Raz over. "You'd be a bit short for an assistant."

"Ra—" Sasha caught himself. "Agent Aquato, you must remember that you are a junior agent. It is highly unorthodox for junior agents to perform a mission entirely solo."

"How come?" Raz crossed his arms. "I've done it before."

"That is true, darling," Milla said, turning to Sasha. "He was the one that rescued you and I a few days ago, when we'd been captured."

"And at the Rhombus, too." Oleander rubbed his chin.

"Not to mention all the others he's helped over the past few days." Otto nodded to Raz, smiling. "He's done wonders to help some of our friends."

"Though it has been such a short time after the last... incident." Milla tipped her head toward Raz. "Agent Aquato, are you sure you'd be ready to take on a new mission so soon?"

Before walking into this room, Raz's answer would have been "no"—he hadn't felt ready at all to begin his real life as a Psychonaut. Going on a full-fledged mission seemed like a lot, especially after everything he'd just gone through. But looking Loboto over, he felt an odd sort of... relief.

"Yes," he said, nodding firmly. "I've dealt with this guy before, anyway. What's one more time?"

"You never scheduled an appointment," Loboto grumbled, drumming his claws soundlessly against the psychic fist.

"This is the young man who saved my brain, but... ohh... I don't know about this," Truman muttered. "If Hollis were here, I'm not sure she'd approve. This man is highly dangerous—"

"Hmm, not so much, now. To the non-psychic world, or when collaborating with another dangerous individual, yes, but not to us, while he’s alone." Sasha nodded to the doctor. “I managed to break through the hypnotism he received, so his withholding information should no longer be an issue. He's been thoroughly searched and his prosthetic no longer has any trace of sneezing powder components. As well, he has no psychic powers of his own."

Raz almost argued against that, but thought better of it.

"Yeah, so long as you're not surrounded by psilirium, he's no match for a psychic," Oleander said, crossing his arms. "He's no threat to any of us."

"Oh, you didn't seem to think so during our first meeting," Loboto said, grinning down at Oleander. "I can still remember you s—" Another psychic hand muffled him.

"Can it, Cal!" Oleander hissed through grit teeth.

"Very well, that settles it, I suppose." Giving Loboto a wide berth, Truman approached Razputin. "Agent Aquato, for your first mission as a junior agent, I am assigning you to the case of Caligosto Loboto. Your mission is to explore his mind and help uncover anything that would aid in this man's... um..." He cast an uncertain glance back at the doctor. "...recovery."

Muffled, angry sounds came from the doctor, and Oleander finally dismissed the psychic hand he'd called. "Recovery?!" Loboto blurted, eyes flashing. "From what? Listening to you bozos yammer all day?"

"Yes, sir!" Raz said, puffing out his chest, fighting the urge to geek out in front of the Grand Head. "I accept this mission!"

"Good. I'll get some paperwork sorted out for you later."

"Don't forget his dental insurance," Loboto muttered, rolling his optics.

Truman pointedly ignored the doctor. "For now, though, get him out to your office and keep him secured."

Raz paused. "...I have an office?"

"Oh." Truman rubbed his head. "I knew I was forgetting something..."

"He can borrow mine for now," Oleander said, "so long as he keeps that mad doctor out of my things. I've got some business to take care of elsewhere."

"But Morry, don't you think my office would be more comfortable for them?" Milla asked. "Your office is..."

"My office is fine, Vodello.” Oleander’s voice dropped to a mutter as he went on, “Or so Hollis tells me..."

"Seems to be settled, then," Otto said, finally tugging Loboto away from the rest of the group and heading toward the exit. "We'll take him to Morry's office and go from there."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Loboto whined, optics swiveling as he was carried.

"Great!" Raz practically leaped after him, only to stop and turn back to Truman. "Don't worry, Grand Head Zanotto, I won't let you down!"

Truman smiled back at him. "Good luck, Agent Aquato."

Milla waved to him. "And don't be afraid to call on any of us for help, darling."

"I'll be okay. Good luck with your own missions, fellow agents!" Raz called back, hurrying to catch up with Otto. He'd hovered gracefully over the stepping stones, while Raz hopped from one to the other. Upon touching down on the other side, he jumped in surprise when Oleander landed abruptly next to him, apparently having bounced over the water via levitation—not something Raz had seen him do before. The Coach mumbled something about "fancy offices" before following Otto out of the room, and Raz rushed after them.

Once he was keeping pace with Oleander, Raz turned to him. "I haven't seen your office yet, Coach."

"Don't expect anything fancy like what you saw from Nein and Vodello," Oleander said. "I think Truman and Forsythe like to play favorites."

"I did search for it, though," Raz went on, then looked down, his brow furrowing. "I saw a plaque with your name on it, but I think someone put it up as a joke. Agent Forsythe had it on a list of 'mission-critical assets' for me to obtain, and when I took it down, the door said 'supply closet' underneath!"

The Coach winced. "Oh.”

Switching gears, Raz fiddled with his gloves. "So, uh, have you been on a mission like this before?"

"Not in a while, but sure," Oleander said, relaxing at the change of topic. "It's pretty common for when we've apprehended troublemakers." Leaning closer to Raz, he lowered his voice. "All you're doing is pokin' around his mind to make sure he doesn't have any thoughts of hurting anyone or causing harm. If he does, we'll have to keep him longer until we get him straightened out, if not just turn 'im over to the authorities."

Turning his gaze back to Loboto, Raz grimaced. "...Oh." That seemed a bit of a tall order, but... Loboto had had a change of heart, hadn't he?

Glancing around uneasily, Oleander cleared his throat. His voice entered Raz’s mind: I’ve also… had a bit of personal experience from the other side of that, recently.

Wait, when did—oh, right. Raz attempted a grin. Well, you must’ve done pretty well, since you didn’t get arrested!

Hmph.

It didn't take them long to reach the Agent wing of the building past the aquarium. There were a lot of offices here Raz hadn't been to—while exploring the Motherlobe had been a top priority, he wasn't about to barge into random agents' offices... except Milla's and Sasha's. They seemed okay with visits.

They passed the smaller offices, and Raz found himself looking around eagerly, wondering where Oleander's office was and how he'd overlooked it. However, Oleander and Otto were approaching the supply closet door, and Raz's brow furrowed. "What are we stopping here for?" Suddenly he perked up. "Oh, is there something we can grab that'll keep keep Loboto subdued—"

"Oh, no, this is our destination," Otto said, frowning at the door. "I see they've yet to fix that label on it."

"Forsythe's had other things on her plate," Oleander grumbled, looking away. "No time to fix a door, I guess."

"Putting me in a closet for solitary confinement, eh?" Loboto raised a brow. "They've tried that. It doesn't work!"

Raz looked between Loboto and the other adults, raising a finger. "Uh...?"

Either neither of them found anything concerning about that remark, or they’d missed it entirely, as Oleander unlocked the door to the "office" and Otto carried Loboto inside.

Oleander hadn't been kidding when he'd said it was "nothing fancy." While the room wasn't as small as Raz had expected (they make supply closets this big? he wondered), it still felt tiny compared to Milla's comfy office and Sasha's spacious lab. In fact, it was slightly smaller than the office within Sasha’s lab. A portion of it was dedicated to a large wooden desk with a rolling chair cranked up to its full height, and a couple other chairs sitting off to the side of that. A large metal cabinet took up another significant chunk of the space, as did a short bookshelf lined with books on mechanics, military tactics, and psychic techniques (Raz recognized a copy of Mindswarm that stuck awkwardly out from the other books), as well as a few out-of-place looking rabbit figurines. The walls were covered in posters for different military branches, and several medals hung above the desk.

No, it wasn't big or fancy, but it was definitely Coach Oleander's office.

It did feel a bit more cramped than Raz would have liked, and the fact that there were no windows did not help. For a moment he wondered if it was too late to take Milla up on her offer to use her office instead, but he didn't want to upset the Coach.

"You're free to interrogate our captive to your heart's content here," Oleander said, waving his hand out. "Just don't let him touch my stuff."

One of Loboto's optics extended toward the medals on the wall. "No need to worry about that. I don't have much need for plastic."

"Don't worry, Morry," Otto said over Oleander's growls. Lifting Loboto with his psychic fist, he gently sat him down on one of the chairs. "I think your craftsmanship looks very convincing."

"Thanks." Oleander looked at Otto askance before facing Raz again. "You know how to keep an enemy restrained, right, soldier?"

"Uhh..." Raz looked at the fist holding Loboto. "I've never done that before. I can pick people up, kinda, but not... restrain them." His stomach gave a sudden twist at the realization that he was unprepared for such a basic part of the mission.

"No need to worry!" Otto said, eyes lighting up in excitement as he fished something out of his pocket. "I grabbed this just in case before carrying this strange fellow out of my lab." He held the object out eagerly.

Raz found himself looking down at what appeared to be a large wad of tightly-wound cables with a red light mounted to the top. Frowning, he looked back up at Otto. "But I thought Sasha said no machines?"

"None that will affect his mind. Here!" He placed the device in Raz's palm. "This is a device I made specifically to use when dealing with non-psychics. There's a switch in it that can only be activated with telekinesis! So hold it out to our friend there, and go ahead and activate it."

"Okay..." Raz held up the device flat in his palm, the light facing him, the other side facing Loboto, who was starting to look slightly unnerved, his optics twitching to look in different directions around the room. "Here goes!" Reaching out with telekinesis, he felt the switch within the device, and activated it. Otto let go of Loboto the second the device sprang out of Raz's hand. Multiple cables rapidly uncoiled and immediately latched onto Loboto, who yelped. The cables effectively tied Loboto to the chair, rendering him immobile, and the red light (now in front of Loboto's chest) turned green with a cheery ding!

It was very hard to maintain a professional air after seeing actual Psychonauts spy-gear at work, and Raz couldn't help but let slip a wowed "cool."

Loboto looked significantly less impressed as he stared down at the device keeping him still. "You know a dental chair would have worked better. They've got restraints and everything."

"There! Works like a charm," Otto said, beaming. "You won't have to worry about maintaining a telekinetic grip on him now, so you can keep your psychic abilities focused on the mission at hand."

"You'll want to work on some better telekinesis later, soldier, but tools like this can help you in a pinch," Oleander remarked. "You ready to begin your mission?"

With a confident grin, Raz nodded to his senior agents. "Yes, absolutely! Thank you Agents Oleander, Mentallis!" He hopped onto the desk chair.

"Call me if you need backup!" Oleander said as he turned to leave. "That guy's craftier than he looks."

"Good luck!" Otto turned to leave as well. "Bring that back when you're done, and be sure to give me some feedback on it as well. I'm still testing it."

"Uh—"

The door shut behind them, leaving Raz and Loboto alone in the office.

#caligosto loboto #razputin aquato #morceau oleander #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #truman zanotto #otto mentallis #sasha nein #milla vodello #morris martinez #queepie aquato #my writing #my art #fanfic #psychics ruin everything

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rcksmith · 4 years ago

Text

Lust — Kaz Brekker

Gif by @kitsyoung

Request: “Hey. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you would consider writing a Kaz piece with the smut prompts 76, 1 & 33. Obviously with your au rules. If it’s too much I completely understand tho”

“7, 17, 36, and 73 from the smut list for Kaz Brekker please? If not, no worries! 💖 Thank you!”

“Holy shit that last kaz brekker smut- AMAZING. Was wondering if you could write another smut with smut prompt #6? Of course if this bothers you just ignore it. Thank you so much 🥰”

Smut prompts:

1. “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”

6. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

17. “after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy”

33. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”

36. "If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.“

73. “You know, you look real pretty when you cry.”

76. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nsfw, jealous, mention of fight.

Word count: 5k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

Thank you so much for the requests and for all affection 💖 I decided to compile these requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. I hope you like it and good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

There is a theory that always, somewhere, there will be a person capable of making you lose your breath, and your reasoning, whenever he appears on the scene. Someone who robs you of your breath, your heartbeat, your ability to think clearly and your control to keep your hands not shaking.

And Kaz Brekker would always be that person for you.

From the first time you laid eyes on him, it's been a feeling of dying and going to heaven. Except that Heaven was, in reality, a hot, burning hell. Where your greatest punishment was being forced to watch his tall figure, who exuded masculinity by every inch, walking in front of you like a Renaissance painting very superb.

Nothing that Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Picasso created has bordered on the personification of beauty that he was.

Kaz was beautiful in a very mysterious, dangerous and chilling way. You would describe his aura as the height of midnight in an enigmatic city, his hair the color of the core of sin and his features as lines that the god Ares would have drawn. Everything about him reeked of the fog of suspense stories, with a touch of lust.

All the looks he directed at you were caustic, flickering and intense as a candle flame, reverberating through your veins like angry eels and always make the room feeling charged with electricity, like the ground after the fall of a lightning. Everything between the two of you seemed to be filled with something fiery and arcane. From the gazes, the rubbing of shoulders, the times when the skins touched. Everything was a compilation of sensations that make you catch your breath whenever Kaz Brekker appeared.

He was your kryptonite. In all senses.

And that was exasperating in the extreme, at staggering levels. You felt your center of your sex vibrate whenever he directed you that voice whit baritone intonation and predatory looks, whenever the button-down shirts were tight enough for you to revel in the contours of his body, or sometimes when he wore the cane to signal or stopper something. This was the worst of them. His cane.

Have you lost count of how many times Kaz stopped you as counting money, by putting the tip of the cane over your hands, or stopped you from going somewhere by blocking your path with the cane, lifting the object horizontally in front of your belly. And every time you felt your legs tremble, your breath fade and a very dirty part of your brain whisper that you wanted him to use that object in you in more fun ways.

Your body was so responsive that there were times when you knew, with every fiber of your soul, that Kaz was able to read the paths in which your thoughts wandered. He lowered his gaze to you, in that breathless connection that promised to contain the most nefarious paths of sin, and maliciously curved the left corner of his lips in an arrogant, oblique expression. At such times, you could feel in your soul the words he did not say:

I know the perverted things that you are thinking.

And the truth was, he really knew. Kaz memorized every change in your breathing, every blush on your cheeks, every trembling of your hands, every your trembling look whit a frightened girl who had been caught thinking of something impure. He knew how your body was responsive, needy. And he himself had to control himself not to push you over the desk in his office and fuck you like an aggressive animal, bringing all your perverted thoughts to life.

It wasn't his physical reactions that kept him from taking action, but an even more visseral reaction than the pulsing desire he felt for you. Mine. The primal, determined, burning sensation of possession. That it ran through his veins like hot, bubbling lava. The desire was familiar, but this statement, not. Like the jealousy he felt for you, he quickly recognized the danger he was in.

If Kaz touched you…he knew he would never be able to let you go.

Mine. A statement that resonated spontaneously whenever he saw you, a testament to the reactions the two of you triggered in each other. However, not even the awareness of the dangerous game that was between you was able to dispel the climate of provocative sensuality that pulsed in the places whenever the two of you were together.

It was like playing with a powerful drug. One slip and he would be addicted forever.

On days like this, when Kaz had just come out of an exasperating meeting with Peka, a businessman and mobster who was always looking for ways to try and bring Kaz down, his already bad temper turned to terrible. He felt compelled to break something, drink a whole bottle of the best English whiskey in that club, and punch someone. Kaz felt the anger pulse through his veins, in a pure and perfect way.

He left the office, turning off his cell phone so he wouldn't be disturbed and descending the stairs to the center of his Crow Club, mind buzzing and anger seeping in his blood. He needed to unwind, maybe get into the car and head home. Maybe actually drink that whiskey bottle. Maybe both.

Kaz was about to take another step down, running a gloved hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, when his gaze met your figure. And that was when the already terrible temper rose to the very badly.

Normally, a vision like that would have just bothered him, a compulsion to do something. But that day, Kaz was at the height of his angriest feelings. And seeing you, bold as a goddess in that little black dress, next to Jesper at the gambling table and flirting with a guy to your left, did things with every last bit of patience and self-control he had.

His eyes never left you as he took another step, running his hand through his hair again to contain the unruly strands. You were laughing, downing another drink and placing a card on the table. You turn back to the man to your left, your eyelashes fluttered gracefully in a promise to allow him to guide your rein tonight.

But there would be no goddamn rein for that fucking guy to guide.

Kaz gripped his cane tightly, descending the other short stairs and advancing toward your with dangerous, determined, and angry steps.

"...in this part of the year, criminal law cases drop a lot." The damn guy was telling you, his boring blond hair falling over his blue eyes in a way Kaz found annoying.

To fucking hell with that blond-haired Dande.

“Y/n, Jesper!” Kaz tapped the end of his cane on the table, stopping the cards under the polished wooden end.

Everyone at the table looked at him startled, their actions frozen. He saw you swallow hard, a soft tremor sigh in your shoulders.

Good!

“Shouldn't you be at the door?” Kaz turned to Jesper, his eyes sparks with annoyance.

“Right now, Boss.” He stood up, giving you a strained smile and heading towards the door.

“Kaz…” You started, voice softly intoxicated.

You knew you weren't supposed to be at the gambling table, let alone so late at night and drunk, even if Jesper was by your side. You had the ability to win every play, in any game, and that ended up not only driving the others away, but leaving the men, already drunk and irrational, aggressive and with an extremely bruised ego. And they almost always wanted to retaliate physically. As much as there were security guards and cameras everywhere to keep something bad from happening, Kaz couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting you. Not even blinking insultingly in your direction.

He sent you an icy, sharp, steady look. A clear warning for you to stop there any excuse you were about to give. To be careful with the next words you would say. You swallowed hard, looking away and getting up from the table. Slightly wobbly from the drink, you fished your coat from the chair next to you, giving a strained, apologetic smile to the guy you'd been flirting with so far.

“I better go home and call an uber and…” You started, but Kaz cut your sentence.

“I'll driver you.”

His tone exuded annoyance and impatience, giving no opening to any objections, demonstrating that he was in no mood for games. Much less defiance of his orders. You knew him too well to recognize that that night had pulled his nerves beyond what he could handle, the strain and irritation in his eyes told you something had happened beyond what you knew. His jaw, straight and strong as glass, was clenched tightly, his night-colored hair was disheveled in an overwhelmingly attractive way, and his black robes sinfully marred every line of his body.

You should have become wary of the dangerous energy that he exuded through every pore at that moment. However, to your inebriated and excited brain, Kaz Brekker has never looked so fucking hot! Your underbelly vibrated in response to the personification of sin that Kaz was, your heart racing at alarming levels as you followed him out, walking over to his car.

Like every piece of Brekker's clothing, his car was sleek black, with big black wheels, tinted glass and dark leather seats. Hades' chariot. You felt your breath catch when Kaz opened the passenger door for you, his eyes avoiding yours, his jaw still clenched and dangerous energy exhaling through every fiber of his tall, lean body.

Holy Mother of God, this man was a perdition!

Kaz contained an instinctive desire to go back inside and tell that aspiring Dande that you weren't available. Instead, he closed the door when you got in and turned around in the car, closing his own and squeezing the steering wheel harder than he would have liked.

Midnight height light streamed in through the darkened car windows and gently illuminated the curve of your cheek, highlighting your skin that Kaz might have named the color of the gods. So much attention was too seductive. Emotions and reactions still bubbled through each his vein like scandant water, mingling with months of frustrated desires and burning sexual tension.

At that moment, jealousy laced him. Mine. Amazing and at the same time propelled by dangerous strength, Kaz tried to trap that feeling back into the dungeon of his soul. He controlled his fury, yet he couldn't completely tame. Annoyance turned to anger. Starting driving the car forward, Kaz tried to think of anything but how you looked like the Goddess Aphrodite on that dark bench. Splendid as a heat ray in a winter day.

“Kaz…” You started, that gentle, repentant tone that stirred every spark in his soul.

He hated how his name on your lips sounded so sensual, so right and so delicious. He would give everything he had to hear you moan his name.

“Don't start” he warned, now not because of latent annoyance, but because he didn't know if he could stop himself if he heard your voice.

However, you didn't make things any easier for him.

"You don't have to be so angry." You go "I wasn't even using all my intellect on the game, I wasn't trying to win."

Kaz didn't even know if that was the core of the problem anymore. Was he angry that you went to a table where it was dangerous? Yes. But the waters were much deeper than that, much more dangerous. The way your smile, sweet and sensual, was directed at that guy, reeled in Kaz's mind, impregnated with the plague. He felt the blood burn in his veins just remembering how melted you looked for that man. And as much as he couldn't blame you, because you were free and single, the primal, irrational part of him screamed so much louder now.

Mine.

“This does not matter anymore.” It was the only thing he managed to say, the very sensations drowning him.

“And it wasn't even that dangerous.” But unlike him, you were obliterating the burning emotions that Kaz exuded. “There were only a few players drunker than a door, and Jesper was on my side, and also James, who was very charming and...”

Kaz almost lost direction, making the car bounce smoothly. He staked his eyes at you, puzzled and bubbling.

“James?”

“Yeah, the blond guy who…”

"I don't want to know, Y/n." He cut you off "I don't want to hear about the guys you allow to drool around you like mangy dogs."

The distilled rage was impossible to contain, and before Kaz knew it, the words were out. He turned forward again, his hands tighter on the steering wheel.

“Wait…” Your tone was slightly smug, and the way you rubbed one thigh against the other was impossible for Kaz to miss.

The grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“You are jealous?” Your intonation dropped to a low, sensual, provocative level.

Suddenly, Kaz's entire body became very aware of your body inches away. He could feel the heat that you radiated and the lyrical, sweet and sinful scent of your perfume flooded all his senses. The air grew thin, puffy and stuffy, and if it had been December cold outside, Kaz would still feel the height of summer in that car. Flashes of excitement and danger rippled through the car, and the brief silence grew even more charged with sexual tension and lustful anticipation that stirred every fiber of Kaz's being.

He made the mistake of looking at you again, and your softly mischievous smile that promised a lifetime of satisfied desires only served to incite his madness. Kaz had never understood how a man could want a woman so badly that he acted irrationally and carelessly. But now he understood. And when he realized you tried to stifle a sensual sigh from the way he was looking at you, his body won the fight against his mind and Kaz stopped abruptly the car at the red traffic light.

The sexual tension between you had become unbearable. In one moment, Kaz was fighting the series of overwhelming and disturbing emotions that dominated his entire being, and in the next moment, he had taken your mouth with his in a fiery, fierce, animal kiss. Stealing all the air from both of you, his thoughts, and his sanity.

He held your face firmly in his hands, his fingers going down to the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, turning everything into something more caustic and desperate. Yours hands went to his arms, moving up to his shoulders and cupping the sides of his neck, pulling him closer. Kaz's tongue inched into your mouth without waiting for permission, conquering and claiming every fiber of your body, of your soul, in a continued of kisses you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

The moan of satisfaction you let out gave him a lust and desire unlike anything Brekker had ever felt. Like hot, addictive honey down in his throat. He was still gripped by jealousy, annoyance and possessiveness. With the desire for you pulsing in his body just like his heartbeat.

Kaz pulled back millimetrically, his blue eyes overshadowed by the heat of the moment, his lips red and swollen from the sinful kisses he gave you. At that moment, Kaz Brekker looked like an angry young God, and you've never felt more attracted to someone in your life than you are now.

You looked at him, panting and needy, wishing with all your might that he repeat the same actions. And you knew he realized that. Perfectly. You saw the spark of male satisfaction ignite in his eyes as he absorbed your desire. He was so close... so very close, and you couldn't stand the enormous anxiety for a caress, a kiss, anything.

His cocky smile intensified as you put more pressure in your touch his skin, your fingers trailing down his neck and back to his shoulders, silently pleading for him to do something with you. Anything he wanted.

Kaz lowered his one gloved hand to your jaw, thumb and forefinger squeezing your chin and making you look at him directly, you staring into the deep, shrewd blue of his eyes. He pulled you closer by the grip on your chin, the husky, erotic words hitting your lips like a promise of sin as he said:

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don't forget who you belong to.”

It was impossible to control the loud, needy sigh that escaped, your center throbbing in despair and wetting the thin cloth of your panties. You wanted he to touch you more, pull your body against his until there was not a single sigh left, claim your soul and your body as his. You had parted your lips to say something, most likely a plea for him to continue, but the traffic light turned green and Kaz took his hands off you, straightening up on the bench and putting the car move.

In the absence of his warmth, his body, you felt cold, empty and frozen. As if Kaz were your sun and you were Icarus. Feeling the compulsion to need to get closer, complete its magnitude and bask in his rays. Every cell in your body begged for him, in needy and submissive requests, telling you to accept anything he told you, that he gave you, as long as it touched you.

“If I knew that to make you kiss me I would have to flirt with someone else, I would have done it a long time ago.” You teased, a satisfied, malicious smile on your lips.

Kaz looked at you in annoyance. In a clear warning that you should never more do that again.

"If you wanted me to kiss you like the brat you are, you just needed to have asked." He countered your game to the full.

"But if I want more than that?" But just as he knew how to play, so did you.

You swiped the tip of your tongue across your lips, kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs over the dashboard of the car, exposing your nearly bare thighs through the thin black fabric of your dress. Your actions instantly caught Kaz's eyes, and his grip on the steering wheel grew stronger and his breathing heavier.

The air inside the car became more ardent, burn, charged with eroticism and lust that left both of you breathless. An electrifying energy coursed through their bodies, as if they had been struck by a bolt of fire. You wanted him in a way you never thought you could want anyone.

Kaz took a deep breath, and looked at you with dangerous predator eyes as he said:

"If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

The words made your body tremble. But if Kaz was trying to dissuade you, that was the last thing he should have told you. Instead of taming the fire inside you, it threw gasoline into the aggressive fire. You pressed your thighs together, your body sensitive to his words filled with burning promise.

In five minutes of insane courage, you took your feet off the dashboard, leaned toward Kaz, and brushed his neck with your lips. In slow, burning, hot kisses, you traced a path to the pulse in his neck, opening your lips slightly to brush your tongue over that pulse point.

“Please.” You beg.

Kaz's moan was low, but loud enough in your mind. You were being his undoing and you knew it. Suddenly, the car veered to the right and came to an abrupt stop. You would have lost your balance if Kaz's hands hadn't clung to your waist, pulling you in one movement to his left thigh, pressing your soaked core into the black fabric of his pants.

You gasped loudly, or he, or both. And in the next moment, his mouth was on yours again. The kiss was more aggressive, possessive, angry and ardent. Kaz kissed you as if he wanted to decree you his, proclaim his possession. You didn't see when he removed his gloves, but the touch of his skin with on your thighs was all you could think of.

“Kaz…” You moaned into his mouth, and the grip on your thighs moved up to your hip, digging his fingers into your thin dress-covered skin with such force it was sure to leave marks tomorrow. "Please."

You knew what you were begging for, but the moment Kaz forced your waist to move against his thigh, rubbing your pulsing core against his thigh, you forgot even your own name. And Kaz knew it. Then, like dominant man who wanted to see you surrendered to him that he was, his mouth went to your ear as he whispered:

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Kaz wiggled his thigh against you, making your clit roll against the soggy fabric of your panties.

You moaned loudly, your hands tightening on his shirt, your face hiding in his chest as an overwhelming, aching pleasure invaded your system. It felt good, but unbearable for being so little, churning something in your belly that made you despair for more.

"Y-yes." You whimpered, rolling your hips on his thigh.

Kaz's bare hand crept up the slit between your thighs, your dress already balled up at the top of your waist, and dipped his fingers into the juncture of your pussy and his thigh, pulling your panties to the side and making you feel the fabric of his dark pants against your wet, hot flesh. You moaned louder, your grip on his shirt tighter and your hips rocked harder for have any friction.

“Do you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are? Is that what you've wanted all this time?” His words, husky and strong, in that intense, dominant intonation, sent all your self-control to hell.

"Yes." You sobbed. “I-I need you."

But his hand in your panties went up to your chin, and he forced you to look him in the eye once more. The electric intensity of that look turned you on even more, making you gasp as his thigh still rocked against your throbbing clit.

“After that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy” It was very hard to think with all the stimuli he was giving you, but the thunderous blue eyes warned you to pay attention to his words “Do you think you deserve me to fuck you?”

His gaze invaded you so deep and so warm and intense that you wondered if he was trying to leave a burning imprint on your soul. All over your body, overwhelming desires resonated, and you gave in to the compulsion to roll his thigh further, whimpering from the pressure on your clit.

"I'm s-so sorry." You whimpered, eyes pleading with he "It won't happen again."

"Won't happen what?" He tightened his grip on your chin, not painfully, but firmly to get your attention.

"It won't happen again, Sir."

The reward for your obedience came in an aggressive, hungry kiss, his hand in your chin dropping for your hip and wiggle his thigh at your needy pussy.

"Do you want to cum?" He teased you.

"Yes, S-sir."

"The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

Then, as if to reiterate his statement, his mouth clutte to yours once more, his thigh swayed with more vigor and his bare hands moved up to the neckline of your dress.

His warm palms and long fingers lowered the straps of your dress and released your braless breasts, your nipples hard with pleasure and your breasts swollen with arousal.

Your moan was muffled by Kaz's, and he just released your mouth to lower his lips to your left breast, capturing the innocent nipple with his mouth and rolling his tongue across your flesh. You moaned louder, your waist twisting desperately against his thigh as your hands tangled in the strands of his black hair.

Kaz delighted in every inch of you, his hands going back to your waist as his mouth attacked your other breast, leaving a trail of hot saliva on his tight, needy nipples. Brekker was consumed by a fierce hunger and need, so overpowering that he pressed his fingers to your skin as if you were his last meal. He'd wanted for so long to do all that, to dive into your body like a starving man, savoring every inch of your warm skin.

Letting out a loud, delighted moan, Kaz increased his thigh movements as he suckled on your nipple, feeling flung to hell heaven as you squealed softly and collapsed onto his thigh, smearing his black fabric with your hot cum. But Kaz couldn't care less about the fucking pants. His cock hard and rigid as a sword hilt throbbed desperately, commanding him to sink into the heat of your slippery walls.

"This is much better than I dreamin." You whimpered softly, your face still buried in his neck, your waist wiggling slyly in his thigh.

"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" He teased you, taking his hands to your panties away from the center of your pussy and pulling them between your legs, tucking them in his pants pocket.

You nodded, your mouth dipping into his neck in broken kisses as your hands went to his pants belt, trying to get rid of any barrier between the two of you as quickly as possible.

"Please, please." You begged, flustered as Kaz stopped your hip movements with his hands "I need to feel you inside me."

Your plea was sated with an arrogant kiss as Kaz reached for his pants, pulling the fabric of the boxer together and letting pop out his dick throbbing, pulsing and his swollen head, brushing in your pussy with lazy strides.

"S-sir!" You cried, trying to earn more.

"Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you."

The strong, long arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest against his chest as Kaz guided his dick to the entrance to your pussy, with one hand. He play whit you, pressing his head into your entrance just enough to make you feel the pressure, recoiling when you swayed frantically for more. The painful pleasure sent tears to your eyes, and you sobbed loudly as you were just toy in his hands.

A few hot tears ran down your face as you whimpered, helpless in his arms to get what you wanted.

"You know, you look real pretty when you cry." Kaz pressed his mouth to yours.

In that second, he completely sank his dick into you, swallowing your loud scream as the thickness of it widened you and hit the bottom of the well. The grip of his arm around you tightened, and Kaz lifted you and brought you let down badly, drown his dick even more deeply inside your hot, wet, desperate walls.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, his mouth leaving yours, but not pulling away enough and letting you feel his hard breath hit your lips.

You followed his thrusts, bouncing your waist up and down hard and letting his dick beat frantically inside you, robbing you of your breath and your ability to think. Your moans mingled with his, the pornographic sounds of their bodies crashing together were loud and you thanked God the car windows were black and the street was deserted.

"So fucking good slut!" Kaz growled against your lips, one hand leaving your body to snake down to your throat, maintaining a firm, dominant grip.

You moaned his name and his title between loud moans and broken sobs. Yours hands closed around the shirt off his shoulders and the waist shimmied between the thrusts, making sure his dick was completely inside you.

“You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat!” Kaz tightened his grip on yoir neck, watching you tilt your head back and expose your entire body to the delight of his eyes.

He growled louder, spurred on by that sinful sight, and increased the rhythm that pounded inside you, filling every inch of you and sinking down as anatomically as possible. Kaz felt possessed by a wild beast, insatiable and euphoric, and each thrust he gave you was more force he inflicted on you, marking you as his.

Kaz pulled your neck to him, pressing your mouth to his as he growled against your lips: “Mine.”

You nodded frantically, the apex bursting in a burst of pleasure as his dick came out and sank in hard, desperate, urgent strokes.

“Yours”

You promised, kissing him urgently and swallowing a low cry as his dick shuddered inside you, flooding you with the hot liquid until your walls overflowed, giving you a feeling of being incredibly full. You whimpered into his mouth, exchanging a sloppy kiss as Kaz gave you a few more thrusts, making sure his cum would fill your every inch, not letting you dare waste a drop.

“Mine” he repeated through the kiss.

so, the weather??? HAHAHA, anyway friends, i hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget consult the rules if you want to request for some Kaz smut. Love u. O

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