#like a bulldozer in the sun

[mysticmothworld]

'blah blah moths are boring cuz they're all brown blahblah blah'

'no they're not! some moths are ✨colourful✨'

Oh. Oh you sweet summer children. What of texture, what of shape, what of pattern, what of refined elegance what of the beauty of things that existed before the tiny speck of dirt in the fingernail of existence that we humans are... that carry on with the tasks of their kin while you sleep in a city built on hubris that will topple because of the thoughtless destruction of all that benefits us... what of that??

[tojisun]

he has to push down on your belly when he eats you out because of you’re squirming too much and thrashing hard against his hold. and when you finally managed to ground yourself enough to look at him, you’re blessed with the sight of him looking so amused at seeing you be subdued. he’s all crinkled eyes and flushed cheeks even when he presses his tongue flat along your folds, a low hum rumbling from the base of his throat.

— keegan p russ, aizawa shouta

[abuadam86]

Emergency: Help save my children's lives

Dear humanity,

I am Habib from Gaza. I am married and have four children: Menna, 12 years old, Adam, 10 years old (suffering from quadriplegia), Maria, 6 years old, and Ezz, one year old. Although they are young, they have survived previous wars, but this current war is the most difficult of all. This is a war of genocide, and the difficulty of the war lies in the inability to meet the needs of my son Adam, who needs special care.

Over the past ten months, we have been caught in the crossfire of the ongoing conflict in Gaza. Our once peaceful home in Khan Yunis has been reduced to rubble, and now we find ourselves displaced in Deir al-Balah, living in squalid conditions in a makeshift tent on the streets. The devastation not only deprived us of our physical shelter, but also destroyed my livelihood - the once thriving business that supported our family's well-being, is now in ruins. The daily struggle for survival is exacerbated by the scarcity of basic necessities such as clean water, adequate sanitation and basic medical supplies

Our home was the place where we found hope and safety, and where we made precious memories. Losing him was like losing years of our lives.

Not only that, they destroyed my source of livelihood, burned it, and demolished it with bulldozers, and today I am without a home and without a job. I was working in a store I owned that met the needs and expenses of my family

Living in tents is miserable. There is a lack of drinking water, hot sun rays, and strange insects that have terrified my children. What hurts me most is my young son Ezz, who I see growing up in an unclean environment and with no healthy food for him. I believe he has not received his right to life.

At this stage, my husband and I decided to go to you and create an account on the Go Fund Me website and ask you to help us in these difficult times until we get out of Gaza, from the land of war to the land of peace. All we need from you is to support us and help us to get out of the war, even if you cannot help. You should spread the word. This campaign is everywhere and among your friends. We thank you for your stance and support for us. Thank you, my friends

The amount that will be collected from this campaign :

We will spend it by paying the amount to coordinate entry through the Rafah land crossing, which connects Gaza to the State of Egypt, since, as I mentioned, they charge an adult $5,000, but depending on the pressures, crises, and waiting, the amount may reach $7,000 per person, and children $2,500 to $4,000.

We will also use it for the rest of the travel and safe transportation expenses to provide for all family members.

A picture of my children's life before the war

A video of my children's lives living the war

May God reward you with all the best and may God bless you

Best wishes with sincere gratitude,

Habib's family

My Instagram account link

My account vetted by:

@dlxxv-vetted-donations

(vetted)

[brewed-pangolin]

Early morning workout Johnny who makes it a habit to run by your house every day at the stroke of 9.

He's got your routine down to a science. He's not a creep, he just likes a schedule. As do you.

He knows you'll be out on your porch by 8:45 with your cup of coffee. Just in time to watch him stride down through your cul-de-sac like some muscle wrapped machine.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Giving him a courteous wave, to which he politely returns with his own and million dollar smile. Sipping your warm brew, his sunlit silhouette disappearing in the distance to turn down the next street.

Except it all changes one fateful morning.

You weren't on your balcony. No coffee mug on the table. Not a single shred of evidence you had been home at all, other than the car in the driveway.

He makes one circle. Then another.

And another.

After the fourth, he's running low on fumes and you're still nowhere in sight. And amidst the fog of a draining runners high, he miscalculates his steps and smashes chest first into your mailbox.

Hurdling down with a thud, a few choice explatives that alert the neighbors and jolt you from the sleep you had been so deep within on your couch.

"Holy shit! Are you okay?" You call out, swinging the front door open. Hair a messy mop. Shirt warn and wrinkled and a thick crease running along the circumference of your cheek.

Soap is nothing more than an apologetic mess. Battling with a mud ladened 2x4 and peppered with an array of junk mail and enveloped bills.

"M'good, lass. M'good."

"You sure? That mailbox is basically destroyed. You must have hit it pretty damn hard."

You reach down, giving him a hand up to which you are given the strongest grip you have ever felt. Playing off a wince with a smile, letting your eyes take him in while he brushes off a layer of dirt and grass.

"Aye. Bulldozed straight into it. Sorry bout tha'."

You have off his apology, taking a gander at the damage and mentally beginning to plan out the finances to fix it.

"I can get ya a new one. If ya let me."

His deep brogue interrupts your thoughts. Raising a brow and a hand to block the bright morning sun.

"No, don't worry about it. It's an easy fix."

"Nah. Please. It's the least I can do, lass. Besides. I am the one at fault ya know."

You hesitate only for a moment. The blue of his eyes mirrored by the sunlit sky behind him. Feeling a certain pull towards him, as though those morning waves had cemented a bond that was only beginning to solidify in the morning sun.

"Okay."

"Aye? I'll be back after yer shift. 530 right?"

You push aside the fact that he knows your work schedule as he reaches out for a friendly handshake. His grip less firm, more cordial. Gentle, even.

"Yeah."

--

After an unremarkable shift that you wish to push deep into your memories, you sit out on your balcony with a refreshing drink in hand. Taking in the hard determination of your mailbox destroying neighbor as he singlehandedly hammers it into the ground.

You had offered to help, to which he emphatically responded with a solid 'no'.

"You've got good taste."

Your seal of approval is all he needs. Taking a welcome cold beer from your hands with that million dollar smile and a final hammering to cement the pillar into the soil.

"Thought it'd fit the style a yer home. Glad ya like it."

You begin to realize this runner is a man who misses nothing. His choice of mailbox color not too dissimilar to the one of your preferred coffee mug. The shade matching almost perfectly, only shifting in hue by the extravagant sunset.

"You hungry?"

Your politeness thankfully overshadows the sudden flush erupting within your chest. You'd blame it on the alcohol if he asked, but you know he'd see right through it.

Dinner starting innocently at the table, shifting seamlessly towards the living room and finishing the main course in your bedroom. Coming to a close in a cacophony of growls, moans, and the aroma of sex.

The pièce de résistance being the loud creak of the bed, falling to the floor in a heap of laughs and entangled bodies as he broke your walls and nestled himself into the chasm of your soul.

Under the Blue Moonlight Masterlist

Drabbles Masterlist

[revehae]

warnings: noncon, drugging

wc. 837

repost. i found this in my docs accidentally (which is silly because when i intentionally looked for it i couldn’t find it…?)

the night feels mistier than it looks, the moon marveling down at itself as it reflects in the water and a bridge of light gleams gently across the still lake. jeno’s car isn’t parked too far. if you tried to walk there in this state, it wouldn’t feel that way, but it’s just shy of the edge.

mark and jeno would never let you make that journey though, not without their support. you never used to think that you were a lightweight, but considering mark and jeno have to nurse you every time you drink together, it was safe to say that you couldn’t hold your liquor.

they’re such good friends, you always tell yourself the morning after, helping you take care of yourself and still inviting you back the next time. you tried to tell them that you wouldn’t be upset if they didn’t want you to come, you wouldn’t want to babysit a drunk grown woman either, but the two insist that you are far from a nuisance.

tonight is no different from any other friday night that you spend getting drunk with your trustworthy friends. you each have a couple of drinks, downing shots in between laughter and chatter. nothing’s out of the blue, really. until it is. until that strange, familiarly unfamiliar feeling creeps up on you, the isolation of your debilitated senses, the lack of control altogether.

it always goes like this. a few shots, some jokes, some stumbling around. mark and jeno crack the jokes now, laughing at how drunk you are, but nevertheless holding onto you. jeno’s holding onto your left while mark’s got your right, their distinct touches peculiarly familiar to you for whatever reason. you know mark’s calloused hands and hardened palms when you feel them, as you do jeno’s strong grip, because he never not fails to remember his strength.

they guide you to the car, assuring you that they’re going to sober you up with some water mark brought to jeno’s car but for whatever reason didn’t think to bring out with the the drinks. and then it’s blank, foggy and unclear.

you don’t remember jeno’s unforgiving hold on your wrists, his merciless pace as if he’s trying to squeeze you into his leather seat. you don’t remember his degrading little words as he breaks character, going on about how you’re so, so stupid. so trusting. too trusting. you don’t remember mark’s toughened hands on your hips as he bulldozes your pussy, nothing but, “fuck,” leaving his mouth.

hell, you don’t even remember hearing them play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to have their wicked way with you before the other, mark being the lucky guy tonight.

because when your senses are restored, the sun is up and you aren’t at the lake anymore nor are you inside of jeno’s car. given that mark’s place is closest, they took you there for the night, and it’s his spare room that you wake up inside of.

when you meet mark and jeno in the morning, they even have breakfast going, and everything’s so overwhelmingly normal in spite of the strange feeling that possesses you.

because when mark wraps his arm around you in a sweet hug, his hand brushes a sliver of your exposed skin even though you’re fully dressed, and it feels strange. when jeno whispers something in your ear about mark’s cooking skills or lack thereof, his tone and the little chuckle that follows is too familiar.

and it starts to occur to you, the memories of what happened the night before, through a thick, blurry haze. mark’s mangling weight on top of your body and rough fingers. jeno’s harsh words that are hardly jokes, violent and sweaty skin sticking to yours.

it’s so distant that you can’t tell if it’s a dream or a memory, but to your horror, it feels so real. it explains the stinging around your wrists and the bruising at your hips, the sticky stuff in your underwear.

but you don’t want to believe that mark and jeno are capable of hurting you. not when they take care of you so much more than they have to, not when they’re always so sweet and kind, so loving.

you ask mark and jeno if anything happened last night a couple of moments into breakfast, an unsettling feeling like bile in your throat. it’s different than an average hangover, it spreads all over and wrecks through your whole being like an implacable virus.

mark and jeno play dumb, as if they’re totally oblivious to what you’re implying, even if they remember in detail what you would never be able to recall as descriptively as they do amongst each other. they say that you passed out in the car, and it’s so convenient, almost too convenient, but that’s their story and they stick to it.

and really, you don’t press for the truth, because you wouldn’t know how to accept your friends being anybody but who you think they are anyway.

[vivisviolets]

what do you need to hear right now ೀ⤷ except i have a headache

↪its been 3 fuking days i swear to goddddd 444

｡♡˚

⚬.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖-pick an image that you feel drawn to- if nothing stands out quickly then close your eyes- breathe- and ask spirit/the universe/god or your intuition/higher self to show you what a pile's content would best suit you, don't be shy!! read through more than one if that's what you are called to do!! i love youuuuu-˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

⋆｡˚ *pile 1 ⚬

⚬

⚬. Five of Swords (reversed), Nine of Swords (reversed), Six of Swords, Three of Wands, Judgement, Ace of Pentacles ⚬.

⚬. ☄️Number 5, 555, initials/letters H-M-A, sun ruled/dominant, Aries/Sag/Leo/Aquarius Placements, dark coloring or light coloring, face/body freckles, pale or sunkissed, thick hair, loud/blunt tone of talking, action-oriented ☄️⚬.

⚬. As I shuffled I picked up fire energy, I'm feeling you guys might come across a little intense personality-wise, like blunt or hardheaded in your opinions- you guys make other people feel like the shy or softer friend in comparison to you- I just got interrupted- I think you might have dealt with people in the past who stepped into your energy in an attempt to influence you or give you the impression they care but actually have the intentions to "change" you- I'm seeing someone smiling at you gently with this mask of innocence so you lower your guard down and give them control over you... This might have happened recently- and that's just it. They want to control by feeling that they are molding you into something they find more correct or tolerable. I don't mean to make you paranoid or even more un-trusting of others than you already are, but more to listen to and address inwardly why someone triggers you like that. I'm also hearing that in the past you might have felt you scared off some past friends or connections because they made some pretty lame excuses to avoid you- I'm just getting that you have a very masculine energy, very strong and coming straight from the chest. You guys have solid walls of inner self-concept and that can make people feel very small or meek compared to you, or trigger them to try and control or fix you, thinking you need some healing- when really it's them being triggered because of the self-healing they need to do on themselves... you guys might have mother issues (just finished watching Black Swan it's very much that suffocating toxicity coming from underdeveloped feminine energy) or have butted heads with female family members in your life (if not mothers especially aunts, maybe stepmother? Or grandmothers- female adults in your life)- and you guys are definitely not perfect in the way you handle certain things, regarding releasing control over certain situations peacefully. you guys can be impossibly stubborn, but that's because you stick to it with your whole chest, you just know- and so you bulldoze right ahead- I'm hearing a quote from Fiona Apple's '97 VMA speech, you "go with yourself". Other people's opinions be damned if you see something as your truth you follow it. From that, I'm hearing very Aquarius energy with how much you've mentally formed your own path (air energy with all the Sword cards), but again lots of fire energy I'm feeling. So you could have Aries placements with how youthfully blunt and truthful you naturally are- Sagittarius with how much natural luck and abundance you feel with opportunities being yours- but I'm getting very much lion energy, so Leo- "Lion-heart" "King of the Pride"- is really what your inner energy embodies! I heard some of you are more introverted or might not relate to this description fully because you may not think your external actions reflect that- but I NEED you to know what this is your inner emotional strength and land that you can, and should- tap into!! ☄️☄️☄️ because it's freaking natural babyyy ⚬.

⚬. You really need to chill with how un-trusting you are with other people's opinions. And I know that is so hard to hear because of the very valid reasons (◉ bitches) you've been dealt in life to have those trust issues- but I don't mean collapsing all your walls and becoming whatever anyone is saying, no. This is about you truly standing in all that inner power you have by allowing it to influence how to interact with others- there's knowledge to be gained everywhere, especially when you come from a place of such a strong self-concept. I'm really seeing you guys need to be allowing and being open to support- and I keep getting interrupted so I think you're really on guard with someone or the people you have around you. Again, look inwardly at that trigger and address it so you can take away what is valid in that trigger and also what is your own emotional walls- once you address it, you detach.~ and it's beautiful.~ but anyway, again-again I am also picking up that your suspensions are correct with whoever you feel is fake. So focus and be around people who you actually want to be around- I'm hearing a lot of you hang by yourself out of not finding anyone who interests you... Please do something different than what you normally do- you can find people who don't wish to change you or shrink next to you. You can and will find people who you can exchange knowledge and information with- with SUCH mutual respect like wow- you'll feel so fulfilled in a way you haven't even allowed yourself to think or consider-...might even be co-workers or just people you might have looked over (not trying to paint you as feeling above others or anything like that- you just have big high achiever energy). -Find and share with people who trigger you to become stronger, not weaker,- etc I'm really hearing that you guys being so in tune with your fire energy is really getting you to the places you want to be, it's really aligning yourself to those goals and your motives are really giving your actions a step up- but also you need to give energy to those ideas by sharing them- with the right, positive people (even neutral ppl would be rlly good) Because the support that you'll receive will not only be an energy boost to your goals, but also it will do some powerful work for you inwardly and align you to be more open to so many blessings and even more opportunities.-- I know you guys don't care hearing it because you don't need to, nor want to ask for it- but you are deserving as everyone is of hearing it- I love you ♡ and everything is turning out in your favor just by you continuing to follow your heart ❤️‍🔥. continue to open it up and remember to look and enjoy the next sunset you see!! ⚬.

⚬. "I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest" - "I paid all my respect to those who taught me how to make it And now I reap the benefits with no confrontation" ⚬.

∘˙○˚‧.ೃ࿔ pile 2 ⚬

⚬

⚬. The Hanged Man, Queen Of Swords, Strength, Three of Swords, Eight Of Wands, Six Of Pentancles ⚬.

⚬. 🐚 Number 3, 333, 3333, 1313, 303, 313, bubbles, Powerpuff Girls, girl/boy/kid next door, approachable/young/soft appearance, temu, Pisces/Cancer/Scorpio/Taurus/Leo placements, Neptune ruled/dominant 🐚 ⚬.

⚬. Bubbles!!!! I'm hearing bubbles- so you know, bubble baths/bubblegum/soap bubbles- oh, and of course you might have gone through a Powerpuff Girls phase and you chose Bubbles as the one most like you!! Obviously- right off the bat, you guys are adorable- you're seen as very adorable at least, you might have a very young face or you just give off very playful energy... So I'm mostly getting what other people see you as, so you definitely have a set image in people's minds-... I'm hearing though you might not like to hear that? A lot of this perception of you is largely online and in online groups, so you have curated a certain personality + an aesthetic for online and in said online groups (hearing for a lot of you it's Discord, but I'm also hearing Instagram group chats + Instagram engagement)... Maybe you've been regretting portraying that online persona? in those online spaces specifically- I will say this pac is all ages but I'm hearing that a lot of you might feel like you made some "bad choices" in how you portrayed yourself or who you interacted with that made you come across naive, and that can be a lot of things like- having weak emotional boundaries and being too emotionally open to people (like being the one who people trauma dumped to), getting wrapped up in some shady trading or in group business, or ignoring red flags of certain people in the effort to be the kind and sweet one of the group (you might of had a problem with a lot of creeps in your energy.. and dms ugh ew ◉ ◉ ◉)- I don't care what your age is, don't be hard on yourself!!! For this reading, you are literally my baby and I will not be harsh to you, idgaf if you came for harsh advice. I will only be saying things to guide you forward. because literally, I don't see you doing anything genuinely wrong. I think this situation you got in made you feel like you were some stupid baby duckling- it made you feel like your inner strength was weak and worthless- and you're putting a lot of self-blame on yourself- and that's just what that is, self-blame for how other people chose to engage with you.- I'll just tell you, you are so precious- no matter the reason you engaged in what you engaged in, you came in with pure intentions and creative eyes!! you felt like testing your waters regarding your own self-expression and wanted to give to others along with that ♡ and that's wonderful and ok to have wanted!! You guys are highly creative btw, and very interested in how you can express yourself- the first cards I drew were associated with water, so you may have prominent water placements of Pisces/Cancer/Scorpio- any of those are very you. You might have been deemed as the "cutesy artist" by others,- you might do something creative like drawing (I'm seeing some supaa cute digital art), cosplay or make up, maybe even music?- Very dreamy~ and also very giving of yourself emotionally- that's not a harmful thing my darling☆!! it's not "weak-minded" or deserving of being taken advantage of- nonono STOP THATTTT-... you really had something happen that threw you into a tailspin. You might be the overthinking type- you're taking everything to be a defining moment of your emotional intellect, or your very worth as a person... noo baby stop that- I literally need you to brew a cup of tea or a little treat, -I'm getting straight up teary-eyed with a lump in my throat rn- take a few deep breaths, drink a little cup of water, watch some youtube or anime- and just let yourself shed some tears if you want to.. freaking obviously feel however you want to feel because that's healthy to do but please stop placing all the blame on yourself like that's the full picture of what happened. ⚬.

⚬. ok so- you're gonna freaking reinvent yourself. Because I know you want to, but- 👏 you 👏 will 👏 not 👏 do 👏 it 👏 out 👏 of 👏 self👏 shame 👏.......👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 - nah booboo, because there was nothing wrong with you to begin with, inwardly you are SO pure-hearted to yourself and those around you- AND THERE IS NOTHING that should be deemed wrong about that, holy shit. let me chill- this reading is peace and love🕊 only ofc... That's exactly it btw- you will be reinventing yourself out of peace and love- for yourself. out of peace and love for the version of yourself who felt vulnerable- taking what has made you feel vulnerable, and turning it into strength. And I'll just say, the actions that you'll be taking will be very much inward- and so you may see your "glow up"/transformation as too slow, but honey- that is exactly how what's needed in becoming SO secure in yourself. You might even go dark in a lot of your online spaces- if you haven't already which btw, process and remove any shame connected to having left certain spaces. how things fell apart was how it was meant to happen and has now gotten you to this point- which is amazing and awesome because you're gonna transform to be completely badass ★!!!! And I know you're thinking and worrying about how you won't be around to give to others to which i say- kiss your sensitive heart for being so precious~♡ because this is about you now. and everyone is going to feel that, no more placing your self worth on how happy you make others- its time for you to actually take enjoyment in yourself!!! and you are going to be looking so good- your inward growth is going to reflect your outward appearance, if you want to start switching up your style now's the time to go for it!!!!- but again, big focus on your inner self-love and growing your self-worth- and if you do choose to share your journey, make it in a smaller circle of people you can trust!! definitely send those new style pics to the inner circle if you feel free and fulfilled inwardly- you'll totally be praised like "omg (x) is really evolving they're looking sooo good..."- but anyway, just trust me ok ♡ because you're going to look back on all that you're feeling- all the hurt, confusion, negativity- and you're going to be stunned like- omg, if i hadn't felt and experienced and processed all of that, i wouldn't be feeling this good rn. So start that process!!!!! Get yourself a cute journal if you don't already have one with cute pens (record yourself to look back at later), start watching youtube videos on self-concept and emotional processing, saturate your mind with all that self-improvement- self-discovery- and building yourself up to be all the joy and love you bring to others (and hotter than evaaa😎), all for yourself ♡. I freaking love you~ now go get your sweet treat!!!!! (or two, that's totally ok~ just for today~) ⚬.

⚬. "And nothing hurts like you do- like the way you say I love you" - "See it on your face you won't ever change in your ways" - "When your torn apart you'll destroy me again"

⚬. *tw: themed song is dark for this pile like wuttt, but it just kept replaying in my mind during the reading so maybe it'd be your thing? idk lollll ⚬.

｡⭒⭒˚ʚɞ˚｡˚pile 3 ⚬

⚬

⚬. King of Pentacles, The Tower (reversed), Two of Pentacles, Queen Of Wands (reversed), Knight Of Swords, Seven Of Swords ⚬.

⚬.🕷 Student life, number 1-12-6, 1111, 1212, 666, lawyer or law practice type degree, thin or medium length hair, natural eye bags/under eye veins, INTP/INFJ, monochromatic clothes, cotton loungewear, Sagittarius/Virgo/Taurus/Capricorn/Libra placements, mars ruled/dominant 🕷⚬.

⚬. Okkk pile 3s, I must talk about your appearance and aura because... Wow!! I am enchanted- I see you are very statue-esque, so you may be on the tall side, especially for my women/afabs it's a very noticeable trait about you, of course you can be a normal height but there is just something about the way you are built that is very statue-like. And that appearance really shows who you are inside and your inner energy because you are soooo calming, mature, and also very spiritual in your self-concept- like if you were my friend and I had you in my inner circle I would trust you with so much, like you're held high in your own inner circle/peers. Maybe you don't feel that way because while you guys are very much givers of your time and nurturing nature- you know to put yourself first on your list of priorities, and that, not only is what makes you so good at your time management (like how do you it??? Please teach meee), it also gives you this air of independence- very natural independence too like, you're again a nurturing and giving being but you treat yourself with that same energy. I'm seeing a large tree in the middle of a expansive and dense forest, and all that magnificent health flowing through that forest is thanks to that tree right in the middle self-regulating and thus creating all that health that all of the life around it can benefit from… So yea self-care is a big thing for youuuu~ I'm seeing the routines you have are very simple so they just blend in so effortlessly into your daily life, and it is literally what is making you into that magnificent tree full of self-regulating energy. Again really simple, minimalist style of self-care- I see morning walks/jogging and journaling to clear and refresh your mind space, you may like to read, and prefer audiobooks or mindfulness-centered podcasts over other forms of media to help you relax and refocus, I'm seeing you like to not be strict with your diet but instead add to it things like fruits-veggies- and more purely sourced foods- your skin care is very simple with few-if any- products and your consistent with it as you are with everything else in your life. Even if you feel like you're "failing", you aren't. and deep down you know that you aren't- you've grown so much and that's really tapped you into not just self-responsibility/regulation but also to give yourself the grace to breathe. That's so beautiful!!!!!! ugh. And like- all of this natural self-focus you have, it's so spiritual- it's not grounded in your ego. You're just so in touch with your highest self. And lovely, they/she/he is so proud of you. I have to say again, if you were my friend, you would definitely be the person I'd go to- to take care of my puppy for 2 weeks in complete peace, and someone I'd have a drink with on a Saturday night all made up and done up talking about the deepest of topics. ⚬.

⚬. Very interesting personality and image I was getting and building up compared to the cards I pulled- I'm getting you might not have always been this balanced in your personal life and emotions, in fact you might have been very much the opposite… Because you grew up in an environment very unlike the one you are currently building for yourself- you may have had a toxic and vicious mother or other feminine figures that really put the fear of God in you and also made you fear yourself with the thought of one-day exuding and feeling such damaged feminine energy…. You might have also had a lot of friend drama- for those older reading this, this happened in your youth (middle-high school) and to those still in mentioned youth, you're freshly out of it (-good for you ily), said dramatic struggles was a reflection really of all the chaos of your home environment and all of the pent up intensity of it… I'm just hearing so many arguments and you feeling like you're being set on fire over and over again... So I'm getting with how much of a shift you made, you feel this coldness in your heart space- partly due to how fiery and emotional your past way of existing was, and also because while this shift that you made for yourself is excellent considering where you came from, it also happened very suddenly- and while you have implemented many new healthy habits… I'm seeing your past wounds still remain open. You can't bring in the new without clearing out the old... while you've done the work of shifting from the old habits to new- that's only half of the battlefield within you that has been fought and conquered, and now you need to face the other half instead of journeying away from it. Because even with all the peace you've found and created for yourself, what you have not faced, felt, and processed for the final round still remains… Maybe you fear your peace and balance being threatened by opening up your hurt, and that's totally understandable and valid. But if you wish to build a peaceful future, you must make peace with the past version of yourself. They/she/he who's still wrapped up in the chaos around them, mimicking that chaos back out of fear, feeling completely alone-that version of yourself needs your attention and healing more then ever. And I know you like to journal or record your thoughts, so allow those darker feelings and wounds into the space- keep the learned peace you have found and treat yourself with that gentleness past you wished they had been given-address them and ask them what memories stick with them most vividly and ask how it made them feel-how it made you feel at the time. Ask yourself what traits you feared most about the people who hurt you and analyze them- the emotions behind them and their cause and effect- and look within how you may be playing out those same traits stemming from the trauma of experiencing them.. I know I'm getting really heavy now, but that's just it- as you are growing upwards and becoming lighter, what no longer serves you grows heavier- and it needs your addressing, so you can become all that you want to be and exist as. You've already shown yourself that you are capable of finding and attracting peace, so now it's time to give yourself the peace of healing. Be the bigger girl/guy/person to yourself, allow yourself to feel it and address it in this safe space you've created. OK BESTIEEE I'm wishing you so much love and joy in your inner discovery journey- I loooove youuu ⚬.

⚬. "There's a fine line I've been walking" -This is where you fuckers pushed me, don't be surprised if shit gets ugly" - "-there's a fine line between broken and breaking- spent my whole trying to change what they say about me- sick of walking that fine line" - "I feel safest in the silence" - "-my whole life I've had something to prove, to you" ⚬.

⚬. *Bonus song*: Too Far Gone by Kesha ⚬.

⚬. oh my- okkk you got to the bottom- hiiiiii- byeeeee 👋

love, vi~♡

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Candles

Part 5 to Best Man Series. follow Christmas Party.

Joel Miller x F!Reader, Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's Tommy's birthday. So why are you still looking for Joel to celebrate it?

notes: Its been 4 months but here's the next part for those of you still waiting on since December! The next part will most likely be the finale.

Warnings: unprotected sex (with Tommy), infidelity / cheating, pregnant reader, toy usage, dildo riding, breeding kink, oral m!receiving (with Joel), m!masturbation, short voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cum eating, jealous!Joel, emotions are FLLYYINNGGG in this one

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous. 

He’s at home, drifting off in thought as his hands do poor work on wrapping paper around the new pair of shoes and watch that he picked out. When Sarah, who’s focus is on brushing her doll’s hair and changing her bathing suit, starts yapping about how Uncle Tommy's kid is gonna be her best friend since she doesn't have any siblings to play with right now, all Joel can think about is you and Tommy together right now on his special day. 

What would it be like, waking up to you in a shared bed every day? To be the first to kiss you, smell your morning breath and sift his fingers through your bed head? To see your eyes shine from the sun reflecting off of them, twinkling with the buildup of a tear after a yawn.

What would it be like, getting a birthday blow job from you first thing in the morning? Even if you aren’t his wife, he’s thought about getting to have you all the time, just for him. He doesn’t get jealous of Tommy very often, because Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous, but he tuts at the idea that your mouth wrapped around his cock is a sight he gets to behold more often than Joel ever will. 

What would it be like, to not have to sneak around? To just have you loudly, unashamed, sloppily, proudly, the way you deserve, without constantly checking behind your back? To capture your lips in front of everyone like it were normal, to hold your pregnant belly like it was his, because damnit it might as well be.

It drives him insane he can’t mark you up the way Tommy can, less the two of you be caught in your affair. All he can do is pound you better, ruin you some more, and fill you with his seed. 

As if the last one hadn’t already reared its consequences in your growing belly. You’re too beautiful, too full of something special to be kept to one guy.

Still. He’ll only ever be second to Tommy.

What would it be like … to call you his?

“Dad…Dad!”

“What!”

Joel looks down at Sarah who’s got her hands on her hips and a stern look about her face.

Jesus, she really does spend too much time with me.

“The door,” she repeats, pointing downstairs. On cue, the doorbell chimes again.

He grunts as he lifts himself to his feet, brushing her head messily with his big palm before hopping down to answer.

It’s his dad.

“How old ya gotta be to leave your old man standin’ outside in the cold?”

Joel rolls his eyes, shifting to allow his father through the front. “It’s 79 degrees out.”

“Cold for my old bones,” he groans, feinting a shiver. “Share-Bear!”

Sarah bulldozers straight to his abdomen and wraps her arms in a big hug. 

Joel lightly tugs on one of her curly strands and she yelps “ow!”

“Go upstairs and get changed.”

She barrels upstairs to her room, leaving Joel and Miller senior. 

Joel continues tossing a bunch of tape on to the sad excuse of a gift before crinkling all the paper up and tossing it. He moves to search for a gift bag in the closet instead.

His dad sighs loudly. “Tommy sure got a nice beat goin’ for ‘im.”

“Sure does,” Joel notes, his attention more on the shoving past the vacuum.

“Good house, good job, kid on the way. A pretty gal.”

Joel closes the closet and turns towards his dad. “What’s your point, pops?”

“You know my point. He’s got it all together. You...”

“Me what? You don’t think I ain’t doin good on my own?”

“You shouldn’t have to be on your own. Sarah’s mom wasn’t...we knew she wasn’t gonna stick around. Its tough havin’ a kid to raise by yourself—“

“I wouldn’t trade my babygirl in for anything else in the world,” Joel snaps quickly. His eyes dart upstairs briefly. Its a conversation he hates when his dad brings up, especially when Sarah could just be lurking around the corner.

“Im not sayin’ that but.” Grandpa Miller shakes his head and takes a seat at the island. “Kid needs a mom. You need a woman. Someone to hold and kiss and make promises to. Someone to love.”

Joel drops the now filled bag on the countertop. I have that already. It’s just—complicated. “There a reason you stopped by? Other than to lecture me?”

His father grunts apathetically. “Just came by for some wrapping paper, but by the looks of it—“ He glances at Joel’s empty tape roll and bunched up pile of ribboned paper—“Guess I’ll go down to the store to get some.”

“Well you know where the door is.”

His dad follows Joel to his open front door to show him out. One aging father and one rapidly aging eldest son look at each other with a sense of sadness.

“Joel—“

“I’ll see you at Tommy’s.”

-

If you weren’t so pregnant, waking up before Tommy would have been so much easier to give him a blow job.

Instead. It’s half past 9, and you’re just rousing to consciousness. Fully well knowing Tommy has probably been awake for at least an hour but faking it just so he can wake up with you.

“Good morning birthday boy,” you grumble groggily, a soft smile spreading across your cheeks as you pull him in for a peck.

He grins and wraps himself around you. “Mmm Good Morning, little Momma. Ya know what I want for my birthday?”

You did know. He dropped hints like crazy and you already had it ready to go by your nightstand.

The thing about Tommy is…Tommy likes watching. It’s something you figured out when you were already dating after a year. Something about watching you touch yourself, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking yourself with a dildo, or grinding on his pillow and moaning as he stroked his cock from across the room, has him leaking in his palm with dirty words of encouragement.

And even with a hefty baby in your belly, his view of you bouncing on top of the sizable dildo was no different.

“Fuck, fuck that’s it angel. Takin’ that dick so good. Bet it feels good, huh?” He grips his balls with his palm while the other fists over his dick. Sitting upright in your makeup chair, fully naked and facing the bed, he gets a view of everything. His hungry eyes never once leave your body.

You nod. Your knees hurt, but the sight of Tommy’’s heart shaped eyes watching your milky breasts bounce, your lips spread to accomodate the girth of the silicon cock has you smiling for your deserving husband.

“It’s—not as easy with the bump…” you say fretfully. You feel like shit, not being able to give him the show that he wanted on his birthday. It’s a lot more difficult to angel and thrust a stick into you when there’s a planet blocking your view.

Tommy hoists himself up quickly, jerking his cock as he approaches you. He tosses the dildo and crawls over you before veiny hands caress along your hips, over your belly and squeezing your tits. “S’okay, little Momma. ‘m’here now. Daddy’s gonna make it better.”

You grasp his face with both hands and grin, pulling his lips to yours. At the same time, he slides his leaking member into your folds, forcing a grunt in the back of both of your throats as he bottoms out.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” he growls, fucking you steadily with deep strokes. “I get my one birthday wish today. Thinking’ I’m gonna leave a little present in this pussy. Have ya walk around all day with a lil bit of me inside.”

You laugh and gently tap your belly. “There’s a bit more than a ‘little’ bit of you inside me already.”

His stomach rumbles with a a chuckle. “That’s for everyone else to know who ya belong to. Nah, I’m talkin something just between you n me.” His arm holds himself above you as he rocks his hips with shallow ruts. “Shit, shit, ya gonna take it f’me? Gonna take my present on my fuckin’ birthday?”

You let out a high pitched whine, neck convulsing backwards as your cunt starts tightening around his length. 

Tommy locks your lips to his, tongue’s messily rolling into one another’s mouth. A string of saliva connect between the two of you when he pulls away, only for him to rub it against your breast.

“Tommy,” you moan desperately. You’re close, you’re about to tell him so: “I—“

“I love you,” he rasps. His eyes are shut tight as he finds that sweet spot inside, sending you over the edge before you can finish your thought.

 He thrusts a few more times before stilling. His balls twitch with satisfaction, each grunt from his chest echoing the spurts of his seed inside you. He feels at peace when he can be this close to you, his hand warm against your tight tummy and his soon-to-be kids.

His soon to be complete family.

His words rattle in your ears. You feel the opposite of light and airy after an orgasm. No, everything is heavy. Your head feels like a boulder stuck to the pillow. Yet empty. Your body so full yet feeling incredibly hollow right now. 

Tommy kisses your lips once more, not noticing the way you don't return the vervor. He sits up, wipes the sweat from his brows and slaps your thigh.

“You okay? Fucked ya a little too hard, baby momma?” He snickers.

You fake a laugh, hoping he’ll see you’re feeling exhausted rather than suspect anything is wrong.

Your husband kisses your forehead with a whisper “Stay in bed, you rest as long as ya need,” before walking towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I love you. It should have made you feel surrounded by him. Comforted, secure, proud, inseparable, sound, cherished, warm, fuzzy, happy, truthful, light. Your husband confessing his love to you. 

Instead, it only reminded you of the dream had about Joel again last night.

Joel in your house. Joel in your bed. Joel dropping Sarah off at school and feeding your newborn with her bottle. Joel cooking in your backyard, Joel’s hands entwined with yours on a walk. Joel rubbing your shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Joel kissing your cheek and telling you he lo—

You cover your face with the back of your hands. Tommy’s the one in your bed. Tommy holds your hand and kisses your cheek, and will be feeding and burping your baby, will be there for you forever and always because that’s what you promised to each other. 

You hold the ring on your finger up high in the air, its dazzling shimmer glints in your eyes. Your eternal promise, displayed on something so small yet so permanent, wrapped up in such a beautiful band.

The same ring that Best Man Joel carried in his pocket safely for months before you swore yourself to his brother. 

 You curse under your breath.

You’re still going to have to see him today.

-

He watches you crowd over Tommy seated at the head of the table, your hands lovingly on his shoulders. He thinks about his “one wish” for a while, but he only looks sideways towards you, holding your gaze for a moment before he confidently blows his candles. The room erupts in a rumble of cheers and clapping, but Tommy and you are only smiling at one another. He grabs your face and kisses you, smearing some icing on your nose. You laugh with him and rub it along his own, the two of you giddy and in your own world.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

And when you slice into the cake, nobody really understand why the cake is split between a blue and pink center. Everyones thinking the same thing--we already did the baby shower, it was going to be a girl!

“We might...have found out…there's gonna be another one,” you say sheepishly, your hands rollings over the heft of your larger than life belly that surprisingly has two little bubbas growing inside. 

Twins. you're having fucking twins. 

Tommy grasps your face and smears more icing on you, the two of you locking lips again and getting a little too pg-13 in a room full of raucous screeches that feel like nails on a chalkboard, shuffling chairs like a thunderous stampede. Everyone rushes to congratulate the two of you, how your lives are really starting, how exciting it must all be, what names you’ve been thinking of, its its everything you’d hoped it would be.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

Tommy knew, of course he did. Both of you planned it, to announce it like that. He’s got that smug look on his face, nothing of surprise. Just absolutely elated to share news that had been sitting on the two of you for who knows how long. Something Joel used to always get firsthand word from. You’re having twins. And he’s learning about it for the first time, same as everyone else. Tommy’s friends pat him on the back. Aunts kiss his cheek and even his dad smiles towards his youngest son’s success, all while the whole time, his ringed hand hasn’t left the curve of your swollen womb.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He slips out the back of the room, everyone too engrossed in surrounding the happy couple. Nobody cared for Joel’s presence, not since the minute Tommy was born. Nobody would bat an eye for his absence today too.

…

You’re excited, you want to celebrate, and having everyone touching and surrounding you and asking questions wasn’t the way you wanted it. That’s why it was supposed to be during Tommy’s birthday, so there was something else to focus on.

But your body is on edge. It was attention from all that thrill. Jittery and warm under your palms.

Between your legs.

It’s hard to force Joel out of your mind whenever he’s in the same room. So when he dips out of the kitchen without making any gesture towards you, you didn’t hesitate to excuse yourself for a bathroom break. Nobody questions it, continuing their swarm around Tommy now who’s too eager for all the attention to really notice.

You don’t know what you expect from Joel. You don’t even know why you’re seeking him right now, and not standing by your husband’s side. You love Tommy. He’s everything to you. 

So why is there still this half of you that feels… like you need more?

Maybe your body is thinking on her own accord now, and that’s been a problem that needs to end. No. No you just wanted to talk. That’s all. He's your brother-in-law, for fucks sake. it’s natural you want to hear his thoughts. He’s gonna be a double uncle! He deserves a congratulations! Hope he’ll tell you congratulations too. Acknowledge it in some way. That its happening. That you and Tommy—are just you and Tommy. 

You wonder where the older Miller may have gone in such a small house. Sarah was still in the room, sneaking cake since nobody else seemed to care to slice it up, so where on earth—?

A callused palm wrap around your mouth and pulls you backwards into the dark bathroom, the door closing you inside with him warm and pressed tightly against your back.

“Shhhhhhhhh,” he whispers. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver, all the way down to the dampness spreading along your panties. Fuck. What was it about just ‘talking’ to him again? 

“J-Joel,” your voice wavers cautiously. “I—“ 

“You still gonna keep pretending you don’t want me?”

You face him as he turns the lights on and the two of you are caught in one another’s grasps. There’s a moment where you size him up, and he wonders if you’ll bluff his pass.

Instead, Like magnets that can’t resist their attractions, your instincts overwhelm you. Your eager fingers dig into the back of his neck and smash his lips against yours. The traces of icing still linger on your lips and tongue, the two of you devouring one another, fighting to get the last lick before coming apart to breathe.

Joel just smirks, his tongue swiping over his puffy lower lip. “Sweet,” he hums. His thumb brushes the bit of icing you didn’t know was still on your nose and puts it in his mouth. “How somethin’ so sweet come from someone so naughty?”

You quickly drop to a squat and roughly shove his hips back against the sink. Nimble fingers working swiftly to unbuckle his jeans and shove them down to his thighs.

You’re both panting through swollen lips, heart rate moving a lot quicker than the activities you’ve so far done would permit. He’s gorgeous like this—illuminated by the harsh florescent light above, his sincere, albeit sinful, smile and rosy cheeks watching you kiss his hardened length. 

He doesn’t force you. Doesn’t do anything to make you feel concerned. In fact, you’ve cornered him against the vanity, forcing yourself between his bent knees and inserting his tip to your wet mouth.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly. His thumb strokes over your cheek as you guide more of his leaking cock into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not even to blink. 

Your head bobs eagerly, swallowing around him. There’s just something about that huge dick of his that has you going feral. An itch you can’t scratch until his cum is either nested safely in your stomach or your womb. Maybe it’s because you’ll never be able to get rid of him. He’ll be around forever, and that means you can keep seeing him and his beefy horse cock forever. Forbidden yet yours for the taking. Every day if you wanted. 

The sounds of the party outside feel so remote compared to the events happening in such a little room right now. Just between you and Joel. 

The babies ain’t quite here yet so just you and Joel.

“Pretty pretty angel, sucking’ Daddy’s cock like that. What would your husband think? Suckin’ his big brother off in your house? I’d tell ‘im you got to your knees all by yourself. Little slut couldn’t wait for it. Second she saw me, needed my fat cock stretchin’ her throat, ain’t that right? Needed me to give ya something today too? Just that selfish, aren’t ya?”

You pull off his cock with a big gasp, smiling lazily. He slaps his cock against your open tongue with thick and wet patpatpats. 

He tsks you. “Pregnant gal, on her knees, takin’ cock like a slut. What a woman you are, little momma.”

You hum in approval, the drunken desire for Joel to fill your every senes clogging your brain.

Soft lips enclose around his tip again and he thrusts forward this time, holding his cock deep. You try to remember to breathe through your nose, even with his hairs tickling your lashes, but Joel pulls back enough to just his tip, and sets a gentle rhythm back and forth.

Joel’s head falls back against the mirror. His eyelids feel heavy each time he looks down to you. So full and rounded by a child—two children…if they're his, Joel’s having another daughter and his first son.

“Told ya you were made from breedin’. You’re gonna be like this the rest of ya life. Gonna put another baby in ya, then another—” he chuckles to himself, “N’another—havin’ ya suck cock not remember what number baby ya got growing’ in ya belly.”

He hisses through his teeth as you suck his member in and out, picking up pace. Your tongue works over his tip with each swipe, hand jerking off the base of his dick that you can’t fit. Any saliva and precum is immediately suckled and swallowed, leaving no evidence at the scene.

You’d gotten pretty good at that.

Joel’s beefy paw grasps the porcelain edge behind him as he hisses through his teeth. His stomach tenses, the veins in his v’line straining and you know he’s close. 

You alternate between sucking his balls and jacking off his cock above you. “What if I busted all over that pretty face? Have ya walk around your house with my cum on those lashes as everyone told ya what a cock hungry whore you are.”

You moan around him, your pussy so slicked between your thighs that it’s dripping down your pants. Its wrong. Fuck, you’re so wrong to want it. Want Tommy to see who’s marking you up, see how much you’d spread your pussy for Miller cock no matter if its your husbands his brothers.

His cock finds its way to your mouth again, and he starts thrusting lightly. 

“Swallow it, swallow it all. Want ya hesitatin’ to kiss Tommy after this. Knowin’ ya got my spunk in your mouth still. Fuck me babydoll, mouth’s a dream.”

His jaw drops low as he cums, and god what a sight. Your cunt throbs as he lets out pained breaths into the air, ready to cum if you were able to touch yourself right now.

You gulp down his salty load, lips suctioned to his tip and milking him clean to avoid any messes that might linger.

“That’s a good slutty wife,” he whispers down to you. Even on your knees, the heft of your pregnant belly is doing wonders to him. 

You lazily grin up to his smug grin. He knows you like showing him just how good you are at swallowing loads, like a good wife always does.

He pulls his softened cock out of your mouth, and you gasp a big breath of air, your hands still clinging to his thighs.

You feel his protective hands hoist you up to your feet. 

“Anything hurt?” He asks gently, holding your body flush against him as he rubs your tummy and hips. He feels much less tense than just moments ago when he pulled you in the bathroom with him. 

You shake your head. It’s not the first time you’ve gone down on a man while 30 pounds heavier with a baby. Your knees are a bit sore, but it’s nothing compared to the ache you’ve been feeling in your back for months now.

You try to pull away from Joel, but his arm is wrapped tightly around you. 

“Didn’t think you were pullin’ me in here just to suck me off. Why are you actin’ like this little snatch is happy from that?”

“I didn’t pull you—you pulled me,” you correct.

“You came lookin’ f’me. And you got on your knees all by yourself.”

His hands caress lower down your hip, gliding along your leggings towards your crotch. It should be wrong, the way your hand closes around his wrist to guide him closer, his digits dipping below the waistline and down your panties. 

He feels it: the soft squelch of your slick in your ruined underwear, pulsing madly. He grins and lets out a satisfied yet devious ‘ooooh there we go’ against your cheek. 

But there’s more. More dripping from here than he’s given you just from the thrill of sucking his cock.

He pushes his middle finger past your entrance and fingers out the glob of cum that had been deposited inside you earlier today.

“It’s —it’s Tommy’s birthday,” you moan, as if he needed an explanation as to why your husband’s seed is dripping out of your pussy. “Had—to give him—ooohhhhuugggg—his…gift—“

He continues to finger fuck you slowly, his younger brother’s cum practically pooling in your underwear. “Got one man’s cum in your mouth and a different one’s in ya pussy." He shakes his head. when he gets you like this, sometimes he would forget that you’re Tommy’s wife, after all. That Tommy gets you more than him. Gets to fill you whenever he pleases. Gets to hear your moans as loudly as he wants. That Tommy’s right to your pussy is his first and foremost, sacredly, forever and always.

That doesn’t stop Joel from seething at the thought of having to finger his brothers spent out of you.

"What, he didn’t make ya cum?” He taunts, picking up the pace. Even as you wreathe under his touch, your nails clench into his bicep, feeling the muscle work with each flick of his knuckle. “S’why you’re so desperate today? Wifey didn’t get her selfish little cunt pleased from your husband on his birthday?”

 "I did come …” you protest weakly. You squeeze your eyes shut, head tilted down as he works you open. It’s sloppy and sticky in your leggings, soaking the underside with your slick and Tommy’s cum being forced out by Joel’s big fingers relentlessly hitting the gummy spot inside.

His other hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him:

 “Then why you comin’ to me?”

There’s a prickle of a tear filling your eyes. You've been asking yourself the same thing for months. You don’t know from what; the brink of pleasure or guilt, but there’s a hefty stone that’s burrowed in your chest all day that you didn’t know needed to escape. The words are forced out of your chest with a pained gasp. 

"... I just want... more.”  

It should pain you to admit it, to be so selfish for these men, never feeling one is enough for you.

Normally He would kiss you right now, to hush your mind to reveal something so heavy, but instead, he holds your gaze, gritting his teeth with a snarl just barely poking along his lip. He wants to let your words sink into your bones, really grasp what you've been denying for too long. Suffer with it, even.

You hadn’t even realized he backed you up against the door, pressing his knee between your leg. You’ve become trapped and hadn’t even noticed. His fingers prod your entrance incessantly, reaching deep inside so there’s no way of you to wiggle out of his grasp. curling up and beating your g-spot better than Tommy can—at this point, its very possible you’ve had more sex with Joel than with your own husband.

And that makes the coil in your pussy snap.

Joel belittles you without any words while you fall apart against the wooden door holding you up. Working the heft of his palm against your clit until your brows are furrowing, mouth agape, walls clamping down tight around him as you cum. The door rattles with each little roll of your hips, and your moans aren’t hushed either. 

He watches, the way your eyes are glued to him, blown wide in guilt and in pleasure while little whines escape your lips. Unrelenting and stoic as he works you through your orgasm, granting no mercy nor even trying to shush your little cries from over stimulation. You don’t hesitate when he brings his fingers to your lips, swallowing them whole and sucking Tommy and your slick off Joel’s fingers. He wipes the rest off on your shirt.

Every emotion you feel with Tommy, you feel with Joel in moments like these. He holds you close to him as you breathe in his musky, minty scent. His shirt smells a bit like flowered softener and a hint of early morning sweat. Fumigated with the thick aroma of sex.

You're looking at the ring on your knuckle.

“I helped pick it out. Carried it for months. ’S practically my ring to you too.” He’s babbling now, getting lost in that hazy after-orgasm glow between two people who are connected by a strong, strange bond. “Sometimes …sometimes I think about stealing you away all to myself.”

He makes you two look in the mirror together, with him cradling your belly as you hold your ring hand to your chest. “Look,” he commands softly against your ear. “Kinda looks like our own little family.”

You hate that you kind of liked that idea. But then Tommy is in your mind, the man that you actually love, who fought for you, who you tied your vows to, and as far as you’re concerned, the father of your children. 

Angry, you try to break away and shove Joel, but he's used to it. Used to you closing him off right after these moments of pure insanity. He's not letting it happen today. This time he’s got a firm grip on you like a brick wall and steel wire melding you tight to him. He knows you don’t actually want to push him away. 

"You said you wanted more.”

It’s not a question: it’s a statement. A fact.

The very real thought, the one you tried to push away every time this happens, dawns on you: Joel is tired of sneaking around. Wants to have you when he wants. When everyone is watching. 

Not just sex. To be in your bed, making you dinner and watching movies, dropping Sarah off to school rubbing your back when you’re in pain, there for the babies when you deliver and every day after. 

You manage to push him off of you and shake your head. The chatter outside grows louder than the beats of your heart. Hoisting your pants back up into place, you go to grab the bathroom door, but Joels strong grip lays over top your and forces the door shut.

There’s a deadly, threatening finality to his tone. “I’m telling him.”

You turn back with a shocked expression, partially expecting him to be joking about it. Not that it’s funny. It’s not funny at all. 

But Joel hasn’t moved. Hasn’t cracked a smile. A man whose resolve has overcome his patience. His lips are tight, jaw tense as he watches you try to answer to that horrifying outcome. 

“Joel. No. Are you insane?”

“If its my kids you’re having, I have every right to be there for you—“

“But it’s NOT!”

“You know that? Tell me right know, you know it for sure. Say it ain’t mine, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

You go quiet, looking down at the belly that’s carrying your babies. You want to shrink away from your fears, from the men who’ve caught you between them with their words and their love and their touch. You’re Tommy’s wife. Yet here you are with Joel. Again. In your and Tommy’s house. And Joel’s hand on you, and on your finger is Tommy’s ring—Joel’s ring--TOMMY—

 It’s too much. Everything is closing around you, your lungs suffocating themselves under the pressure that you caused by seeking him out. Finding him and putting yourself in this exact situation ever. Single. Time. 

You yank the door again, desperate to escape, but Joel doesn’t budge. He refuses to let you walk away from the conversation. From him.

“You didn’t deny it,” he reminds you. he pulls your reluctant focus to him again. “Just say it: Tell me you want me. Tell me you lo—”

“I don’t.” You declare rigidly. Its too far. No, no, no,nonoNO. You expel those thoughts, his words, quick to cast them out before letting them enter your system. The next words rush out of your mouth with a deep ache seized in the pit of your stomach: “You’re just a good fuck.”

The air is thin around you. Something has dropped, a pin, a dime, a fucking boulder, between the two of you. Joel grits his teeth and removes his hand from the door, backing away from you with a scowl. He pulls it the knob open harshly and brushes past you quickly, not even taking a moment to check if anyone was nearby to see you emerging from the bathroom too.

He grabs his jacket and strides towards the living room. You can make out the commotion behind the wall; Sarah is having her own philosophy course to her personal audience, asking, "Whats the point of having so many candles if you can only make one wish!?"

Joel grabs her hand and dismisses them quickly. Her sad cries echo into the hall: “But why! It’s too early!”

Joel’s stern voice echoes in the hall as they make their way across the entryway.  “Because I said so. I’ve got work tomorrow. We’re leaving.”

She continues to complain, but Joel doesn’t have any heart to continue their conversation. Ushering her out of the house and slamming the front door behind them.

You stare at the door, having not moved from your place. 

The carpet beneath your socked-feet feels too shaggy. I hated this carpet. Its too fucking much for fucking Texas and every god damn person who sees it here.

You flinch when Tommy’s hand creeps along your belly. Disgusting your sniffle as a cough and wiping your nose. You worry he noticed, but he doesn’t do anything to push the matter further. “What’s up with him?”

You huff an annoyed sigh. “I don’t fucking know. He’s your brother. Just Leave me the fuck alone.”

Tommy observes  your face momentarily, the way you avoid his eyes. He pulls away. “I’m gonna let this one slide as a pregnancy hormonal thing,” he says lowly, a cold soberness to his tone. “Then you can tell me what’s botherin’ ya so much lately. Or not. I’ll let you decide.”

You cover your face with your hands, sinful hands that feel like dry leather and charred ashes. Hands that don’t feel like your own anymore.

It would be better if Tommy just walked away. So you can simmer in your guilt and pain, like any cheating wife would. Like a sensible man who doesn’t take that shit from his wife, no matter what her personal problems are. From a woman who’s secretly jeopardizing their marriage for… what exactly?

You wanted more…but…what did you want more of?

Instead, Tommy feels his lips quiver slightly. He brings your head to his chest, smothering you in his scent and his embrace, his love and comfort.

Your insides break down in a flood. Tears and hiccups suffocate you as you wrap your arms around your husband and sob into his denim jacket, the one you just gave him this morning as his first birthday gift from his new wife. 

Tommy’s never pushed you for anything. Maybe to his own detriment.

Deep down, you suspect, he knows it too.

Instead, he just holds you, swaying back and forth with gentle ‘shhh’ into your forehead. Never once faltering on the stretch of his hug, his arms holding you up and against him like a seatbelt built for a lifetime.

You feel like you just drove the car off a cliff.

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[daisies-daydreams]

Something About Us (König x F!Reader)

Pairing: König x F!Reader Category: Smut/Angst (18+) Warnings: One Bed Trope, Wet Dreams/Sex Dreams, Dry Humping, Sexsomnia, Slight Dub-Con, P in V Sex, Creampie, Cervix Fucking, Dirty Talk, Descriptions of Reader Near Death Experience (Knife Violence), I Can’t Speak German Word Count: 6,654

Summary: After a short mission, you and König crash in a safehouse, only to realize that there’s one bed. 

Author’s Note: This one took quite a while to write. I know, it’s a “oh no there’s only one bed what are we going to do???!” piece, but I wanted to see what I could do with it (and also make it a song fic for good measure). I apologize for getting carried away with the word count.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 

You and your partner exchanged weary glances. A small "queen" sized bed rested in the center of the barren bedroom. Of course, the couch was broken in the small living room just down the hall. Why wouldn't it be? König rubbed the back of his neck before he cleared his throat.

“I can just sleep on the floor,” the Austrian coughed. You raised your brow and waved your hand.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I'm sure both of us can fit,” you said eyeing the bed. König remained silent, his massive form hovering at the threshold of the bedroom door. You nearly tripped onto the mattress. König’s hands flew out to catch you.

“I’m okay!” you laughed. His shoulders relaxed. You turned and bent down to tie your loose shoelace. You noticed König staring at you in your peripheral vision.

“Enjoying the view?” you teased with a smirk. The man’s blue eyes widened beneath his sniper mask. He shifted uncomfortably before he quickly strode to the other side of the room. You watched him walk to a corner and drop his things. His gun sank to the wooden floor with a loud ‘clunk’. Something about the sound reminded you of how he ripped the knife out of a terrorist's hand just a few hours prior.

There was a hostage crisis, a politician who provided resources against a terrorist group in a small, Eastern European village. Seeing as it was a single hostage, KorTac sent you and your partner along with a few local operators on the mission. While you and the other personnel fanned out, König acted as a battering ram through the rundown facility. The mission was successful, and the politician was returned safely. However, you had a close call when one of the terrorists had a knife to your jugular. If König wasn't just around the corner, you’d be gone. Chills ran up your spine at the thought, your hand rubbing over the front of your neck. König’s boots landed on the other side of the room with a sudden thud, drawing you back to the present.

You gazed over your shoulder, the mountain of a man hunched over on the bed as he stripped himself of his outer tactical gear. He was always a man of few words, yet unrelentingly polite. Yet the moment he was on a mission, his demeanor changed completely. The light in his eyes dimmed as he broke through doors, barriers, even soldiers set before him like a bulldozer. You frowned as you watched bruises peek out from beneath his shirt.

“Are you doing okay?” you asked. He turned his head slightly, his azure eyes dull and glazed over as he followed your line of sight.

“Ja, just a few bruises,” he replied. You sighed as you walked over to him, the floor creaking beneath each step.

“I know, but that’s not what I meant,” you said. König’s shoulders tensed as you slid next to him. You had to crane your neck up just to look up at him. “You’re being quiet,” you said.

“I’m always quiet,” König grunted. You laughed through your nose.

“Yeah, but you seem more quiet than usual,” you said. He clenched and unclenched his fists. His palms looked just as sweaty as the rest of him. His face was twisted into a large knot of emotion. Fear. Rage. Annoyance. You couldn't quite put your finger on it. The sun sank low in the sky as the two of you sat in the cold, dimly lit room.

“I’m just tired,” your partner stated bluntly, averting your gaze. You tilted your head.

“Are you sure?” you asked. König shifted on the bed, his face now turned towards you. He said nothing at first, only playing with his fingers. You felt a warmth bloom in your cheeks as his hooded eyes locked onto your face.

“I…” his voice trailed off. König bounced his leg, his fingers digging into his dirtied and torn pants. You held your breath, waiting for his response. He bunched up the fabric in his hands. “I just…can’t stop thinking about today. How you almost got-” his voice shook before he swallowed thickly. Your brows arched, heart sinking into your stomach.

“You mean when that bastard nearly slit my throat?” you asked. König winced at your words.

“Ja,” he muttered under his breath. You frowned, your hand moving closer to his arm to comfort him.

“König, look at me," you said firmly. His eyes drifted back to you. "I’m fine now. The hostage is safe. Evac is probably going to be here soon. There’s nothing to worry about,” you tried to reassure him. His hood moved beneath him. You imagined he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“I know,” he seethed, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was clenching his pant legs. His breathing grew ragged the longer you held his hand.

“Then what’s wrong?” you asked with knitted brows. König looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. He slipped away from you, your hand falling out from his.

“I’m going to take a shower,” your partner groaned as he turned his back to you. You frowned, a slow heat simmering in your chest.

“Alright,” you said with a sigh. He shuffled over to the door, pausing briefly, then continued to lumber into the hall. The door closed behind him, the sound reverberating across the thin safehouse walls. You were all alone.

“Fuck,” you cursed to yourself. Your nostrils flared as you felt yourself sink into the bed. You didn't mean to interrogate him. You just wanted to look out for your partner. Why couldn't he understand that? Why was he avoiding you when he literally treated you the same way on the ride over here? You blushed as you remembered how König held your hand, his long, thick fingers gripping you tightly, as if he believed that if he let go, you’d slip away. Tears pricked at the corners of your red, tired eyes. You scowled before wiping the wetness away. You didn’t want to deal with whatever emotions were tangled up inside of you right now, but they were persistent as hell.

Yes, König was your partner, but only in the professional sense. You bit your lip as you’ve thought about the times he’d saved your ass, and you’ve saved his. That sense of camaraderie started to shift into something more peculiar…something that kept you awake at night fantasizing about him. He caught you blushing one time when he pinned you while sparring. König didn't say anything, his face shrouded by his dark cloak, though you knew in your heart that your flushed cheeks and blown pupils said it all.

You shivered as another cold chill ran down your body. The heating unit in the window sputtered to life, though it provided little warmth to the empty room. The sun had set behind the curtain of mountains that loomed over your current residence. You reached over and wrapped yourself in an extra blanket that lay on the end of the bed. Your eyelids began to feel heavy, yet you wanted to take a shower, too. A clear image of you stepping into the shower with your giant partner flashed in your mind. You screwed your eyes shut and shook your head as you tried and failed to push the fantasy from your mind. The hum of running water echoed from across the hallway. You yawned and shuddered beneath the covers. Wrapping yourself even tighter, you found yourself curling up into a ball on the mattress.

You've had a very hard day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to indulge, just a little bit…

You slid out of your bra and panties, his dark-haired head cresting just above the shower curtain. He didn’t seem to notice you slipping into the bathroom, humming a soft tune while he scrubbed his hair. Your hand pulled back the curtain. König’s singing stopped, his soapy muscles bulged as he turned towards you. His cock was flaccid yet the sheer size made your mouth water. Your eyes trailed up his broad chest and to his chiseled face. He was devastatingly handsome, face covered in scars and stubble. You bit your lip and blushed, wiggling a bit as he gawked at you.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, your voice laced with lust as you leaned your naked breasts forward. He was completely silent, eyes wide and cock twitching ever so slightly. König nodded. You grinned ear to ear as you stepped into the steaming hot shower. He nearly took up the whole space, but you were still able to squeeze in front of him. His large body was blocking most of the water splashing onto you. You shifted your thighs together when his cock tapped between your ass cheeks. Immediately, his hands flew down to hold onto your hips as he tried to compose himself. You turned to give him a doe-eyed look as you held up a washcloth.

“Could you please help me scrub my back, Kö?” you asked sweetly. His cock twitched on your ass and you moaned, knees pressed together. He swallowed before taking the cloth from your hand. His large hand lingered on yours as his other rubbed circles your hip.

“J-Ja,” König flushed. He stepped out of the way for the water to splash over you. You raised your arms and stretched, flexing your back muscles while your breasts jutted out. You heard his breath hitch behind you.

“Verdammt,” he muttered. You peeked behind your shoulder to see his cock. His fat, red mushroom tip now stood at attention. You gave a cheeky smile before bracing yourself against the shower all. You pushed your ass out towards him and swayed your hips side to side.

“Make sure to scrub hard. My muscles have felt so tight,” you whined. He stepped closer to you, hesitantly placing the washcloth on your shoulder. You released a long sigh as he lathered your back, only to moan when his other hand came up to grab your breast. You looked back behind you to see him biting his lip.

“Schatz,” König whined as he slotted his cock in between your thighs. You rolled your head back as he tweaked your hard nipple between his finger and thumb. His length began to drag below your wet lips, your arousal smearing across the top of his thick shaft. Both of your pants and moans echoed across the shower walls as he thrusted between your thighs.

“Fuck,” you keened. You arched your back when his head caught your clit. König’s lips were on your neck, trailing a long line of kisses down to your shoulder. You felt yourself careening towards the edge, body tensing as he spread your labia with his heavy cock. He groaned behind you, balls aching for release.

“Vögelchen, I’m so close,” he whined into your ear. Your mouth opened into a silent scream, ready to fall off the cliff. Your fingers scraped down the tiled wall, his hand harshly gripping your breast while his dick rubbed you in all the right ways.

“König,” you sobbed.

Suddenly, the feeling of your rising pleasure was gone. You blinked a few times. Your brows furrowed when you realized you were no longer in the shower with him. You were fully clothed in tactical gear and back at the abandoned building from today. You began to panic when you didn’t hear a single noise except for the wind howling through the broken windows and rotting structure.

“König?” you called.

Nothing.

You scanned the room for any sign of hostiles. You jumped when a wild cackle echoed through the building. Your feet carried you through the door.

“König!” you cried as you sped down the hall. The room was twisting into a black hole, your cries loud and deafening as you frantically searched for your partner. You gasped when you rounded the corner. A sharp blade was pressed against your jugular. A masked man who was most definitely not König let out a wicked laugh before holding his finger up to his lips.

“Go ahead, scream your partner's name again and I’ll spill your blood all over the floor,” the terrorist’s voice growled, dipping the knife even further near your throat. You gulped, your throat bobbing towards the edge of the blade. Before you could open your mouth, a familiar voice rang out in the distance.

“Maus?”

---

“Maus? Maus, wake up!” König shouted as he shook your shoulders. You screamed and thrashed around beneath your covers, hot tears pouring down your cheeks.

“König!” you shrieked, lip shaking as you swung your arms around wildly. His eyes widened before he shook your shoulders even harder.

“(Y/N)!” König barked. Your eyes shot open, chest heaving as you released several shaky breaths. You flinched when you met eyes with the tall, dark figure towering over the side of the bed. He exhaled shakily, his hands falling away from your shoulders.

“It’s okay, (Y/N). It’s just me,” König said, his voice soft and raspy. You blinked, tears still leaking from your weary eyes. Your heart was pounding in your ears as König remained completely still. The heater hummed lowly in the small room as the feelings of terror from your nightmare began to drift away.

“König? Wh-What happened?” you stammered. He rubbed the back of his head. He was wearing a new set of clothes, though his face was still shrouded by the cover of his mask.

“You were screaming for me. It sounded like you were having a bad dream” he explained. You remained silent, cheeks burning. You hoped your screaming was more from the nightmare than from the previous dream.

“It was just a nightmare,” you said quickly. König cocked his head as he watched you shiver beneath the sheets. You curled into a tight ball with chittering teeth. His eyes scanned you like he was deep in thought.

“Is it alright if I...help warm you up?” he said hesitantly. You stared at him blankly. König sighed.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Please," you suddenly spat out. The giant man blinked a few times before shifting into the bed. He nearly pushed you off as he adjusted himself, his hand balancing on your hip. You bit your lip to stifle a soft squeal. You wiggled over slightly as he pulled you to his chest. Your heart raced as both of you lay in silence. You closed your eyes as he rested a hand on your head. His fingers smoothed over your hair, the tips massaging your scalp.

“I-It was the terrorist from earlier,” you sniffed. His fingers suddenly gripped your locks, but not enough to hurt you.

“Scheißer,” he angrily muttered under his breath. Your eyelids began to fall as he trailed his thick fingers through your locks, untangling any messy knots along the way. Your breath hitched as he leaned his face closer to your ear, his lips almost dancing against the flushed shell.

“You’re safe now," he comforted. You relaxed beneath his touch, melting into his side. "I promise I won’t let anything like that happen to you again,” König murmured. You turned your head to him, nearly capturing him in an accidental kiss. His movements ceased as a small gasp left his lips. Your eyes were shining as you felt your heart bursting at the seams.

“Thank you, Kö,” you sighed. The man gave a quiet grunt. You soaked in the warmth his body radiated, his thick, muscular form nearly swallowing you whole like a blanket.

“Entspanne. Go back to sleep, Maus,” König whispered while he continued to stroke his fingers through your hair. You nodded, eyelids falling as you drifted back to sleep.

___

You were stirred from your sleep again. This time, it was from feeling something hard rutting into your backside. You were puzzled at first, only to remember the man who had been sitting by your side earlier. How much time has passed? You eyed the window that faced you. It was still dark outside, yet the dark blue hues told you the sun wasn’t far from rising. You gasped as König’s arms squeezed around you, holding onto you like a teddy bear. You blushed when you realized he must have fallen asleep with you.

“Meine Katzchen,” he purred lowly. Your heart jumped as he gave another thrust into the plush globes of your ass. The tips of your ears burned when his exposed lips grazed over your fluttering pulse. Another deep rut caused you to stifle a soft moan. You felt a tension growing in your core as you instinctively arched your back the more he rubbed his aching cock into you.

“So gut,” König murmured. His arms wrapped you even tighter, keeping you in a snug cocoon beneath the blanket. Your clit throbbed as his hips snapped into you. “Du fühlst dich so gut an,” the large man moaned. His words rattled you to the core. You had to bite your lip to keep yourself from swearing, the heat building in your cunt. A loud snore nearly ruptured your eardrum. Your soul shot out of your body. He was still asleep.

His arms were pressing you closer to his chiseled body as he dipped his covered cock into your ass even further. You muffled a squeal as his length brushed past your ass and slightly over your cunt. He felt massive. You let a frustrated exhale through your nostrils. As much as you enjoyed this, you knew it wasn’t right. You bit your lip and tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. He protested with a whiny grunt and hooked his leg around yours, locking you in. Your lips tightened.

“(Y/N),” König groaned lowly. Your mouth shot open. He was dreaming…about you? Your partner moaned into your neck, his lazy strokes now steady and paced as he clung to you tightly. Your mind was scattered to the wind as your pussy fluttered, folds soaked in your arousal. He whimpered as his fingers tightened around your body.

Your inhibitions were slipping away as his hot breath fanned over your neck, his hard length threatening to burst from his pants. The thought of it being inside of you made you drool. You couldn’t help the moans left your lips. They blended in a duet of quiet, lewd noises that rang through the tiny room. A throbbing heat began to rise from your core and trickle down to your fingers and toes. You gasped quietly when König released a feral growl, stilling himself against your ass. Oh my God. You noticed the wet feeling that leaked through his pants and onto your backside.

“König,” you keened. You quickly slapped your hands over your mouth. His eyes shot open. König gasped and released a surprised yelp. He shoved himself off of you, sputtering curses and apologies in German.

“Es tut mir leid!” he shouted repeatedly. His breathing was tense as he scrambled away on his hands and knees. You slid off the bed, trying to ignore the tension in your core.

“König, it’s okay!” you assured. He violently shook his head.

“Nein! I just-I mean-I didn’t mean-,” he gave up and threw his hands over his face. You frowned as you watched him shudder, his massive body sliding down the wall. A sharp pain struck your heart as he tried to squeeze himself into a tight ball, as if he wanted to disappear forever. You stepped closer to him, holding a hand out.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” König repeated. He shook on the floor, hands gripping at his dark hood. You knelt down before him, eyes soft and warm.

“König, look at me,” you said firmly. He shook his head, body tense and curled into itself. You sighed. “König, it’s okay,” you cooed. The man shivered as he sniffed. “I know you didn’t mean to,” you continued. Silence, then more sniffing. You shuffled closer, still keeping your hands balanced on your thigh.

“I’ll never forgive myself,” König’s voice cracked. He sniffed and tried to turn away from you. You gently laid your hand on his forearm. He kept his face away from you when you leaned closer.

“Please, you have to,” you begged. König peeked one of his eyes from between the cracks of his fingers. You swallowed, your throat feeling dry. “I know you didn’t mean to do that. You were asleep, you didn’t have control over what you were doing,” you explained. König’s voice was caught in his throat as you moved even closer, your knees bumping into his. You splayed your hand across his tense arms, keeping your voice soft and sweet.

“I’m not mad at you at all,” you clarified. König drew his head from his hands. His hood was wet with tears as he sniffled beneath it.

“Really?” he asked. You gave him a small smile and nodded.

“Really, I’m not. In fact, I…” you blushed. He tilted his head down, his regret quickly shifting into curiosity. The words that wanted to come out felt stuck in your throat. I really, really liked it. Was it even the right thing to say?

“You what, (Y/N)?” he murmured. Your clit throbbed between your folds. You wanted nothing more than for him to take you right then and there. On the bed. Against the wall. Anywhere. You shook your head.

“Nothing,” you dismissed as you went to rise to your feet. König’s head perked up as he quietly gasped.

“Did you enjoy it?” he gasped. You remained still as your cheeks flooded with a deep crimson. You hung your head and gave a slow nod.

“Mein Gott,” your partner muttered. He ran his hand over the top of his hood, his body trembling. Both of you remained frozen in place for what felt like an eternity. Your face grew an even deeper shade of red when he finally took his hand and wrapped it in yours, his thumb pressed into the back of your palm.

“I-I know this may sound crazy, and it might not be the right time…but,” his entire body was shaking. Your heart skipped a beat.

“König?” you asked. You clasped your hand over his and squeezed it gently. He instantly relaxed. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long,” König swallowed thickly. Your eyes widened at the implications of his words. He stroked across the back of your hand, humming to himself. Your eyes flicked up to his hood, his blue eyes shining in the pale moonlight. “I want you, (Y/N),” König said. Your lips curved ear to ear. “I’ve wanted you to be mine since the moment we first spoke,” he sheepishly chuckled. Your heart melted right then and there, ready to burst in your chest.

"That's why today...when that fucker nearly killed you before my eyes, I wanted to tear him to pieces," König seethed, his fists clenching. You remained quiet as he continued. "I couldn't bear the thought of living another day on this earth without you, and today that almost came true," he shuddered. Your bottom lip shook before you came up and pressed a small kiss to where you imagined his cheek would be. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates as you pulled away.

"I know. I was scared shitless. But I have you to thank for me still being here," you smiled warmly. König returned your expression, pulling you close to his broad chest. Both of you held onto each other, soaking in the fact that the two of you were living here and now. You nuzzled your face into his chest as he kissed the top of your head, his hand stroking your lower back.

"Schatz?" he piqued. You tilted your head up, your lips inches from his.

"Yes, König?" you hummed. His hand rested on your hip, fingers digging into your waist.

“Do you...do you want me to?” König asked. You grinned and crashed your lips into his, forgetting about the hood entirely. His eyes widened with surprise, but he quickly leaned into your kiss. Both of his hands snaked down to your hips, tenderly holding you as you pulled away.

“I always have,” you said softly. The corner of König’s eyes crinkled. You pecked where his lips would’ve been before you pressed your forehead to his. “I always have,” you repeated, your voice quieter yet more firm this time. You came forward, your hands falling onto his broad chest. You felt his heart hammer beneath your gentle touch. He rested his forehead against yours, his breathing choppy and hands squeezing your hips. Your fingers slowly came up to the cloth covering his face. The face you’ve never gotten the joy to see, never had the pleasure to touch.

“May I?” you asked. His eyes flitted between your hands and your lips. He nodded as he wrapped his hands around your wrists. You slowly pulled up his hood, his face coming to you in pieces. First, his plump, slightly pink lips that were parted. His strong chin was sprinkled with dirty blonde scruff and light pink scars. Next, a slightly crooked yet otherwise sharp nose. You imagined it was from the amount of times it’s been broken. König’s breathing grew heavier as you rolled the cloth up close to his eyes.

“I can stop if you want,” you said. His hands tightened around your wrist as he licked his dry lips.

“Nein, bitte…I want you to see all of me,” he said. You smiled and continued to pull up the sheet of fabric. He screwed his eyes shut as you rolled it off of his head. Black face paint covered his eyes and upper cheeks. His short, dirty blonde hair caught the light of the sun that peeked just over the mountains. The weight of silence was heavy before you finally spoke.

“You’re breathtaking,” you awed. He opened his eyes and blinked. They were like two pools of sapphire seated in a field of his ivory skin. His face was undeniably rugged, torn and scarred from years of being in battle. However, you couldn’t deny how it only made him more handsome in your eyes. Your thumb came and stroked his stubbled chin, then his cheek. König nuzzled into your touch and purred.

You smiled as he rubbed his cheek in your palm, breathing in your scent. A gasp left you when he suddenly took your thumb into his mouth, his soft muscle swirling around it. You rubbed your thighs together as he picked you up and gently placed you back down on the bed. His massive form hovered over you, your finger still lodged in the wet cavern of his mouth. You slid your hand away, your thumb coming out with a wet “pop”. König’s gaze was lidded, pupils blown as he leaned in.

“Liebling, I’ve wanted to feel you for so long. Would it be alright if I did so now?” he rasped into your ear. You shivered beneath him, hands wrapping around his thick neck.

“Please, König,” you keened while arching your hips. He sucked in a deep breath, in awe of the beautiful woman below him.

“Danke,” König sighed. His long fingers slid down, over your breasts and landing on your waist. You sighed when he pressed his lips to your face, eventually finding your own. Your mouths danced around each other while he worked your pants and underwear down your waist. He sucked in a sharp breath when he laid eyes on your dripping cunt.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed in astonishment. You spread your legs wide for him to get a view of your whole aching cunny. He growled when you dipped your hand in between your folds, your finger playing with your clit.

“It’s your fault,” you teased. His Adam's apple bobbed, eyes darkening with lust. You arched your back as you circled your nub and let out a loud moan. A red curtain fell over his cheeks. He reached down between your hips, replacing your hand with his. You whined as he pressed a thick digit into your bundle of nerves.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop and I will,” König whispered. You nodded and wrapped your hands around his taut forearms. He leaned back down to kiss you while his thumb drew slow, languid strokes across your clit. Pleasure rippled through your pussy as he dipped his head, pushing his tongue into your soft mouth. Your tongues flicked and sucked on each other as he swallowed your moans. The pressure began to steadily build in your core with each flick, stroke, and circle across your bundle of nerves. König gritted his teeth as his cock began to swell painfully in his pants.

You mewled when you felt one of his long digits sink into your hole. The ridges of his finger delicately brushed across your walls, stroking in spots you didn't know you had.

"Need to make sure you're ready for me, Liebling," König murmured. You nodded and gripped onto his arms. Your head felt dizzy from just one finger inside of you. He curled it into your upper walls, the pad brushing against the spot that made your toes curl. You moaned as you felt him pump into your heat. The pool in your belly began to bubble up as he rubbed your clit beneath his thumb in tandem with his thrusts. You saw stars when he added a second finger.

"That's it, look at you opening up for me so well," König praised. You bit your lip as he scissored his fingers inside of you, spreading your walls deliciously.

"S-So good, König, making me feel so good," you slurred. He chuckled quietly as he continued to pump his fingers into you, his thumb still dancing over your juicy bundle of nerves. The heat only began to rise inside of you with each stroke. He cursed beneath his breath when he watched your hands slip away to twist your perky nipples in between your fingers. Everything felt so intense, from his digits being swallowed by your cunt to your nubs being rolled by your own hands. You arched your back when a third finger slipped inside of you. The stretch was borderline painful, yet the pleasure quickly overshadowed it.

"Are you feeling okay, Maus?" König asked, his blown pupils trained on your face. You nodded and swallowed thickly.

"Y-Yes," you gasped as you felt yourself teeter on the edge of your high, your walls spasming around his digits. His lips curled back over yours as he slid all three fingers into you, your pussy squelching loudly with each drag.

"Fuck, I've dreamt of doing this to you for so long," he moaned. "Making you squirm with pleasure," König grunted. His voice seemed so far away as the cord inside of you wound tighter and tighter. He gave a deep swipe across your bud and thrusted his fingers into your spongy spot inside. "To see what you would look like when you came undone," he groaned hungrily. Your vision went white as you cried out beneath him, walls clamping down around his slick digits.

"Just like this," he breathed, thrusting his fingers with each word. His tongue swiped up a drop of saliva that dripped out of the corner of your mouth. You shuddered as you felt your high surge across your body, your nipples sensitive in your grasp and clit throbbing below the pad of his thumb.

"K-König," you slurred. König's mouth enveloped around your lips as he slipped his fingers out of you.

"Shh, it's alright. I'm here," he cooed. You panted as he shifted above you. The bulge in his pants was even more prominent, making your jaw go slack.

“Scheiße,” he grunted as he took in all of you. You were flush from head to toe, your body spread out like a full-course meal. He licked his lips, wanting to know so badly how sweet you'd taste. Perhaps some other time. He pulled his shirt off, then his pants and briefs. You gawked as his cock sprang from the confines of his pants and smacked against his rough abs. He noticed your staring and blushed.

“You’re so big,” you gaped. König's eyes lowered, his body tense.

“I-I know,” he stammered. You tilted your head. "I-It's caused more problems than I'd like," König confessed. You frowned. You ran your hands up his thighs, looking at him lovingly. His breath seized as you stroked one of your palms along his thick shaft.

“Don't worry, we’ll figure it out,” you smiled reassuringly. König cracked a smile, then groaned as you tighten your grip around his length. You gave it a few experimental pumps, feeling a large vein that ran across the bottom of his shaft bulge across the creases of your hand. He rutted into your hand, thighs spreading slightly when your other came up to cup his heavy balls.

“Ah,” König moaned as his hands came down near your shoulders. He lowered his dick closer to your folds, his red tip kissing over your wet lower lips. You licked your lips at the welcoming heat of his cock prodding your entrance. His member twitched in your grasp as he panted, eyes screwed shut and head tugged back.

“Schatz, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum,” König strained. Your core fluttered at his words. You slowed your movements before sliding your hand back to his forearm.

“Please, fuck me, König,” you moaned as you bucked your hips. He shuddered before spreading your legs wider. You stifled a whine, realizing just how much he was going to stretch you open. He raised your hips as he rubbed the leaking head of his cock against your tight hole.

“I’m going to go slow. Is that alright?” König asked. You didn’t care what speed he went, you just needed him to be inside of you.

“Yes,” you moaned. He nodded before angling his hips. Your mouth opened into a silent scream as his head breached your entrance. The man above you hissed as your walls sucked him in. You were afraid you’d be split down the middle…and he wasn’t even halfway in yet.

“Please relax, Vögelchen. You’re so tight,” König groaned. You slid your hand between your hotly pressed bodies, circling your clit feverishly. Your pussy loosened a little, allowing him to sink into your wet heat. Your toes curled as his cock brushed against your spongy g-spot, your pussy wracked with sparks of arousal. His hands were almost bruising your hips as he gave a sudden, sharp thrust. You cried out.

“Shh. I know, I know,” he cooed. His hand came up to cup your cheek as your lip quivered.

“I-I can’t do it, Kö,” you sobbed. His thumb brushed a tear that fell from your eye. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but holy fuck, did your pussy feel divine wrapped around him.

“Just take a deep breath with me, Katzchen,” he said. Your eyes opened, wet with tears of the pleasure and pain that emanated from your core. König drew in a deep inhale through his nose.

“In,” he said. You did the same, the cold air filling your lungs. “And out,” König murmured before exhaling through his mouth. You followed his lead, your body relaxing as you released your breath. The pain began to fade the more both of you breathed together, his cock slipping further inside. Before you knew it, his hips were flush with yours, head buried against your cervix. He sighed and patted your hip.

“See, Schatz? I knew you could do it,” he praised with a sparkle in his eyes. You blushed as he gave a gentle kiss on your forehead. Tears still pricked at the corners of your eyes as his thick length stretched you to your limit. His heavy balls rested against your ass as he shifted his hips.

“Are you feeling okay?” König asked. You nodded and bit your lip, your fingers still drawing deliciously slow circles around your bundle of nerves.

“Y-Yes. Please, I need you Kö,” you mewled. He groaned when your walls tightened around him. Your eyes popped out of your head when you saw a bulge poke from beneath your stomach. Christ, he was going to break you. König gripped both of your hips as he looked you in the eyes.

“I’m going to start moving,” he said. His voice was slightly hoarse, dripping with lust and each syllable heavy with his Austrian accent. You hooked your legs around his waist as he slowly dragged his cock out of you, keeping half of it plugged in. Your jaw went slack as he fully pushed it back inside. Each stroke was tender and slow. The slight pain that remained began to dull as his cock slid past your plush walls. You moaned as you pinched and rubbed your clit along with his thrusts.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped, your mind wrapped in a blanket of ecstasy. His brows were knitted together as he pumped into your pussy, the lewd squelching making him curse beneath his breath. The bed creaked and groaned as you began to push your hips into his, matching his pace. The tendrils of your oncoming orgasm creeped in.

“(Y/N),” König moaned as he bit your neck. You curled your toes, his head pounding into your cervix as his pace became more driven. His balls slapped against your ass, your slick coating them as it leaked down to the sheets below. Everything felt clear and blurry at the same time as your head reeled with bliss. You cried as your walls fluttered around him.

“König, I’m close!” you wailed. He pounded into your cunt, his hand that was on your hip now pressed into your lower stomach where his cock bulged beneath your skin. Your jaw went slack.

“Cum for me, Liebling,” he growled. You cried and raked your fingernails down his back as your orgasm ripped through you. Your walls contracted around him, pussy squelching as he continued fucking you through your high. You moaned and babbled incessantly as liquid euphoria seeped through your veins. Your head spun as König grunted above you, his thrusts now heated and sloppy.

“(Y/N), I’m right there,” he warned into your ear. You drooled from a corner of your parted lips. The waves of overstimulation lapped at your core as you threw your head back.

“Cum inside!” you mewled. He tilted his head, his lips still snug against your neck. “I-I’m on the pill,” you breathed. König groaned and tenderly pushed into your hole.

“Hinreißend. It’s like your perfect pussy was made for me,” he moaned. His thrusts quickly became more fervent and hungry before he finally snapped his hips, his tip reaching all the way inside of you. You moaned as he spilled his thick seed into your weeping cunt. König stiffened above you as his cock pulsed inside of your walls, his cum splashing against your cervix.

“Oh my God,” you gasped as you felt his spend and your arousal erupt from where your sexes connected. He caught his breath before locking eyes with you. He leaned down, kissing you deeply while he pulled out of you. More cum oozed from your puckering entrance and dripped onto the sheets. Both of you moaned into the kiss, your mind swimming in the bliss of the afterglow. You smiled as he pulled away.

“I love you,” you breathed. You knew it wasn’t something you’d say to someone you just had sex with for the first time, but something about those three words falling from your lips just felt right. König snapped his head up, his eyes soft and filled with joy. He nuzzled his lips against yours before peppering your face with small, sweet kisses.

“Ich liebe dich,” König murmured against your skin. He pecked your lips, his hands rubbing over your hips. “I love you, too,” he whispered. You smiled, warmth flooding your chest. He pulled you to his side, his bulky arms wrapped around you.

Birds began to chirp outside as the golden morning sun peeked through the window. You traced your fingers along the dips and curves of his arm while he nuzzled his nose into your neck. You thought about his cum trickling down your thighs. You’d clean up later. Right now, all you could think about was the man holding you in his arms and the love you held for him in your heart.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Translations:

Ja - Yes

Nein - No

Schatz - Treasure/Darling

Verdammt - Dammit

Maus - Mouse

Entspanne - Relax

Vögelchen - Little Bird

Scheiße - Shit

Scheißer - Bastard

Meine Katzchen - My Kitten

So gut/Du fühlst dich so gut an - So good/You Feel So Good

Es tut mir leid - I’m So Sorry

Mein Gott - My God

Liebling - Dear/Darling

Bitte - Please

Danke - Thank You

Hinreißend - Gorgeous/Beautiful

Ich liebe dich - I Love You

[coolnonsenseworld]

(to know more about the story and the calendar on pre-order check out previous posts!)

July is Lance's birthday and they all take him to the sea just to frolic around. They end up doing way too many tricks in the waves and rolling through the sand. When everyone else is busy figuring out if they should wait until sundown to roll out or go back now, Keith and Lance sit by the waves, talking. That’s when Keith takes out a ring. He tells Lance can take it without promising anything, he just thought that for Lance's birthday Keith can offer him being there for him, giving him whatever he needs - and he could keep the ring to remember him by, to be sure he is always accepted and protected by him, that they are each other’s. To make it even less pressuring, it’s not a shiny cute engagement ring, but just a simple one, like promise rings should be. Lance is so touched and surprised, he lacks words and just bulldozes Keith into sand.

"Is it a yes?!" yells Shiro from the sidelines and Keith just "okays" from the ground, before grappling around with Lance.

There is both a dog whistle and a disappointed awwing at their PDA, but their companions just mostly laugh it off. Allura still watches them, shielding her eyes from the sun, before murmuring “they always remind me of the sexual tension between me and an oncoming train.”

Everyone bursts out laughing.

[thewriterg]

why do i cry?

A/n; more headcanons because yay… ermmm plz don’t think that just bc Simon is white this isn’t poc reader friendly coming from a black reader and writer —angstober day;19—

warning(s); dad!simon x daughter!reader, description of self harm, scars, mention of family issues, and language

dad simon! who rushes you into his flat when he looks at your form standing in front of him taking his hand from the waistband of his sweatpants that secured his hand gun to his hip pulling you into chest worrying over your unscathed body as far as the eye reacted questions falling from his tongue quicker than he could catch “what you doing ‘ere sweet girl” he muttered the plain balaclava that rested on his face now gone

dad simon! who’s dead cold heart beats a little quicker when he sees you trying to stop tears from slipping down and flooding your face before he takes your bag sitting it against the arm of his older than age couch before lifting your form into his experienced arms walking you to his bedroom that was almost empty except for essentials like most of the place

dad simon! who cuddles you his body acting as a space heater to regulate your cooling temps rubbing a hand up and down you back his ears perking up when you whispered barley audible to him but he heard nonetheless “can I live with you?” the blonde squeezed his eyes shut in response before resting a kiss to your forehead “your alright you can stay”

dad simon! Who watches you sleep from his door frame curled up while his duvets swallowed you whole shutting the door with a gentle ‘click’ pulling his phone from his pocket scrolling through his contact until he got to your mothers number typing on it as you leaned against is island counter rubbing a hand through his hair the usual cool and collected demeanor he carried no longer around when it came to you, when it came to his world.

dad simon! Who watches you wither away the next days your with him he could see the battle of depression you were in he’d been there himself too many times to count and hated that you had to experience it the little no appetite, no energy to take care of yourself which he had no problem doing for you, when you wake up on time but lay in bed until your late.

dad simon! Who at one point bulldozed you out of bed a soft threat of force feeding you falling from his lips he hate it got to that point he felt like he sounded like his father… no he said it because he cared about your wellbeing not because you were ‘waisting food he put on the table’

dad simon! who calls out to you when you finally finish a decent portion of your meal stopping you in your tracks your hand resting on your his bedroom door while he motions for you to take a seat with on the couch and you do reluctantly sitting across from him your knee bouncing anxiously and reaches to set his palm on it stopping your fidgeting

dad simon! “what’s going on baby girl? You have to tell me what’s the matter so I can help” you can tell he’s trying to soften his voice even if it is still has that gruff underlying tone but he’s trying and you feel even more guilty for intruding now your throat beginning to close up before putting your hands on your face and you can hear his footsteps expecting the couch to dip under another weight but it had never happened until you felt another palm on the back of yours

dad simon! who frowns as you sob out a “don’t be mad” and even after he reassures you your still not a hundred percent making him swear and promise over everything under the sun and he balances trying not to rush you but also urging you on “I do this thing… where I hurt myself” You sniffle and Simon’s world is crashing down onto him he feels his mouth open to speak he closes it wets his lips with his tongue before opening it again and he stumbles over his words before taking a breath and continuing “what do you mean you hurt yourself? Hurt yourself how?”

dad simon! Who watches you shuffle above him meeting his eyes quickly looking away like a scared animal in the wild before you pulled out a lighter one he recognized from his night stand with a skull on the the front its jaw looked as if it was cracked agape when you opened the lid and Simon struggles not to choke

dad simon! “And I burn sometimes, I’m- I’m sorry dad, I’m so sorry” The blonde holds you into his chest and rocks you gently tears falling down his face that he tried to squeeze away the pain worse than any bullet to his chest or hunters knife to his spleen

dad simon! “It’s okay, it’s alright love, im very proud of you for telling me” he whispered into you hair kissing the crown of your head crying until the sun rises

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[tojisun]

you're breaking my heart with him who we love and i absolutely adore it!!!! (っ◔︣◡◔᷅)っ ❤

may i ask what johnny (and maybe even simon?) would do if reader - after feeling left out for so long - finally decided to move on and/or find someone else? maybe she gravitated towards kyle and/or john bc they’re sweet and gentle with her and her affection is finally being reciprocated?

and please feel free to ignore this if it doesn't interest you. no pressure at all!

ohn my god no bc im so so glad so many of u are brainrotting w me again about 'him who we love' <33 i could not stop thinking about it on our way home yesterday

!! vague descriptions of an injury and an attack; mentioned callsign for reader but its not important!!; and its so so rambly so do forgive me ): // divider by @/plutism <3

id love to see this happen after that mission mishap with simon and the reader. it takes an explosion; an acrid burn peeling his flesh from his back and you sewing him together with such vitriolic desperation that ghost almost, almost, felt bad for the way he’s treated you; and an apology murmured from the softest lips he’s never really noticed for simon to—

feel his chest twinge.

the denial sits on the tip of his tongue, razor-sharp and blisteringly sour. it waxes, and simon heaves from something more than the pain burrowing deep into his being. he trembles from something that isn’t the agony he feels for returning to johnny as more of a ruined man who is unable to bury the fear of anything that is set ablazed.

(he remembered the day when he finally came to, groggy eyes peeling open before snagging a fracture of liquid orange—fire, his mind screamed, pulsing because: i’m not gonna be able to come back—and lurching out of the bed only for his body to collapse, and he fell with a choked yell, pain blooming from all of his synapses almost like a beast coiled deep into the fabrics of his very existence.

you ran into the room, yelling his name, and something about the way your voice was so raw with worry and anguish, simon was able to calm down. almost like a part of him realized he was safe now, with you; like it knew that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him, not then and not ever.

while you helped him back on the bed, he turned his head to try and see what it was that set him off—

simon’s breath hitched, his eyes straining as a lump lodged itself into his throat because it was—

the fire was—

it wasn’t fire.

there, bouncing off a glass vase, were serpentine rays of the afternoon sun rippling across the walls and bathing him in warm light.

“is there, uh, something you need?” you asked, trying not to hover but unable to truly leave him be.

simon swallowed, running his tongue on the back of his teeth, before murmuring, “shut the curtains.”

you turned to the windows, your brows furrowed, and simon clenched his teeth, bulldozing through the shame curling in the pit of his stomach and added, “please.”

you did what he asked without prodding, and simon swallowed down the rawness of his vulnerability, watching you with something pretty fluttering in his chest but he tried to stomp it down because—

he despises you, remember? so why…)

but the feeling bloats and simon spends the rest of the exfil in silence, watching you—he’s always been watching—but this time it’s without malice. instead, it’s with bubbling interest, pushing at the back of his mind, and rising ever so slightly like a tide.

he thinks of johnny, of the way mactavish had danced around the idea of something more with the three of you, and finds that he’s not too opposed to it anymore. instead, he looks forward to the change.

-

no sooner after the bird touches down on the base, price pulls you into his office. simon’s been wheeled into the sick bay and was stranded there, doctor’s orders, so he only learns about what happened later into the night when mactavish finds him, sorrow so heavily etched on his face.

“tavish?” he asks, ignoring the way his voice comes out as a croak. “what happened?”

“hyde’s gone,” johnny says, slumping into the seat beside simon’s bed and burrowing his head into his palms. “they apparently requested to be assigned somewhere else. cap’n won’t say where.”

“when?” he asks although simon can’t even feel himself move, his mind trying to reconcile the events that happened because there’s no way this occurred in the fly; not when, he remembers, you looked so resolute on the way back like you knew what was going to happen the moment you two returned.

like you had planned this for a while now—

“when’d they ask?”

johnny shifts, meeting his eyes, and simon’s heart crumbles at seeing the weight of johnny’s anguish painted on his face. he sniffles, and rasps out, “probably two months ago, s’what garrick said.”

two months ago—the same night when you managed to find a way to contact the base. the same night when simon’s realized what it must be that he feels for you.

(the same night when you’ve shyly asked him what about mactavish did he like.

“the six inches that you so intimately know,” he replied, cheeky and teasing.

you rolled your eyes, groaning at how disgusting he was, and he piped back how he’s a patient and has all rights to be as gross as he could.

you laughed, chucking a balled paper towel at him and simon remembers the way you looked so…at peace bantering with him that he couldn’t even fathom you were thinking of leaving.

what changed for you? what was it? why couldn’t you have waited—

why didn’t he realize sooner—

whywhywhy?)

notes: tbh i dont think hyde would gravitate towards price n gaz bc their affections for ghoap, particularly for ghost, was so intense. also, even before this ask ive always planned for hyde to leave. their feelings could potentially risk the team morale, which price even talked to them about in the prev works (mentioned in passing)!

[simp4konig]

"Can I sit here?" König X Gender-neutral Reader

Word count: 3060

*Part one?

*Slow burn?

*Strangers to Friends (to Lovers?)

Not decidedany of those yet 😶

Edited on 23/8/2023 for some grammar tweaks.

*!!Fanfic inspired by @theeggrollslord's drawing on Twitter!! I really wanted to use their art as the cover for this fanfic, but due to me not having an Twitter (or X 🤮) account, and not knowing whether the original artist consents to people reposting their art, I held back. 😿 If anyone knows whether they are able to give me permission or are cool with it, please let me know!! ☺️

*Author has played MW1 + 2... but not the newest reimagines. 😭 all I remember from the campaign is that Shepherd shot Ghost in the face,but in NO way did he look as fine as he does now ☠️☠️

*Author does NOT speak German... but can use Google Translate !!😊

As is customary with all foreigners, English is not my first language!. Pls do not bully me if my grammar  is bad i will cry 😢

König sat by himself in the cafeteria.

Three sausages, a spoonful of beans, and two eggs alongside a 500ml water bottle were all that consisted of his daily breakfast. Hash browns would be served raw, and the bagels were solid enough to break teeth when bitten into. He didn't even want to consider the sandwiches, as their stale, stinking cheese and slick ham made him gag. A pity that they didn't serve Bratwurst or order authentic — hell, even half-decent — eggs, as the meat in his sausages tasted out of date and the yolks were a dull yellow. The beans weren't even Heinz.

Looking at the cheap slop on his tray made him lose his appetite. At least the water was drinkable, but its taste was peculiar at best.

König sighed.

Every day "eating" the same breakfast, sitting in the same spot, at the same time.

To say that he enjoyed the routine of the barracks would be an overstatement, as he felt oppressed by the monotony: rigorous and thorough briefings pre-missions; intense training three times a day; shooting drills and target practice right after the sun barely opened its eye or into late hours of the evening when it was hard to see. Yet he couldn't complain, and forced himself to appreciate the predictable structure of the barracks.

After all, routine meant safety.

Knowing the details of the misson and the intel required guaranteed a flawless operation. Knowing how exactly to eliminate an opponent in any given situation meant that it made the job even easier. Knowing when to dive for cover to avoid a rain of bullets and the rumbling thunder of machine guns in an active shootout equalled survival.

And knowing that you intimidated everyone on base at least made social interactions easier. All of these extended his life expectancy, yet by how much was anyone's guess.

Being a 6'10 wall of a pure muscle made him the perfect human bulldozer, and paired with his animalistic instincts taking over while on the battlefield, he struck fear in even his own teammates.

Most of the time, König didn't even need to use a gun, as he could snap an enemy's neck faster than they could blink; and, even if they could do that, they wouldn't be able to react fast enough as he manhandled their body like a rag doll and snapped their spine in half over his knee. Quick and easy kills. Other times, frantic stabs in the abdomen, chest or neck finished with a harsh cut of the throat sufficed when sneaking, and allowed him to release any pent of frustration he felt that he wouldn't have been able to relieve through strangulation alone.

Yet, all of the time, seeing König's brutality first-hand made his teammates lose their balance and struggle to collect themselves during the mission, fearing that he would turn to indiscriminately killing anyone that had the misfortune of entering his field of vision. Compared to König's animalistic instincts taking over in an active firefight and causing bloodshed, his allies putting down enemies with a bullet to the head seemed merciful, and even kind.

Unlike friendships, killing people was easy. Keeping good relations with people was difficult enough for König to begin with — with his first hurdle being his social anxiety, and the hurdle of others being getting used to his frightening exterior — and it grew more and more into a challenge as he moved up the ranks, until his position as Colonel made him feared, not respected. People avoided his eyes, and kept conversations to a minimum, bowing their heads in fear, not respect.

After witnessing him maul enemies like a feral animal, König walking down the barracks had people scuttling away like rats in opposite directions, a horde of people dissipating in an instant. Crowded rooms with rowdy laughter suddenly were brought to silence once he made the mistake of entering, with people speaking in hushed whispers or not even speaking at all, opting to escape before their colonel addressed them.

Truth of the matter was, König never wanted to be a colonel. He'd had rather been the one receiving orders than the one making them, as his social anxiety in front of innumerable pairs of expectant eyes put pressure on him in the moment and made it near impossible to let a single word out.

He was not a natural born leader: he knew it, everyone knew it; but he kept his position solely due to his ruthlessness in action and his cold efficiency, as there was no one like him that could come close to imitating his behaviour.

Then, to say that he enjoyed the daily routine of life in the barracks was a stretch to say the least. The thrill of killing on missions and the primal adrenaline that took over his veins and clouded his senses could not be more of a contrast to this boredom and overwhelming isolation on base: of every day sitting in the same damned spot; of every day pretending to eat the same damned food; and, of every damned day being avoided by the other operators to be at a peace he was forced to accept, whether he liked it or not. What a miserable life to live.

The beans on his plate looked menacing, and he had the urge to crush each one individually until they'd stop sneering at him so, as being judged by off-brand beans was running his patience thin. Yet, he wouldn't do that, as everyone else would view him as not only a brute but a mentally unstable lunatic who was now using food scraps as an outlet for his temper; so, he resorted to just picking at the rations instead. His head was in his palm, and his gaze went elsewhere, his pale blue eyes drooping.

So engrossed in absentmindly pushing the beans on his tray with his fork and contemplating what went wrong with him that he did not hear the footsteps walking towards him.

You cleared your throat. "E-excuse me, sir, but can I sit here?"

König looked up, and saw a young recruit hovering over him with a small brown paper bag in their hands. Your face was one he hadn't seen before around here, and you weren't in the standard military uniform, so he assumed that you were perhaps a groundsperson of sorts.

Your ignorance of him was probably the only reason you dared approach him, as any other person would have avoided his table at all costs and gotten whiplash from how quickly they'd turn their head the other way. However, he was glad that he didn't intimidate everyone that encountered him, and was internally thanking you for giving him a chance. Some hope.

Feeling uncomfortable under his scrutinising stare, you tugged the collar of your t-shirt and struggle for words.

"S-sorry," you begun, sheepishly looking down at the floor. A rub of the neck and a shuffling of feet. "It's just... all of the other tables are crowded, and I don't know anyone here well. And yours—" You looked at him, shooting him a lopsided grin, "—yours is empty."

"I understand," he stated, before looking back down at the mush on his tray. "Not a problem."

You gulped, feeling like he was dismissing you, and beginning to regret approaching him. "Are you sure, sir? I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Look at you, he thought, so thoughtful over his feelings. When was the last time anyone bothered to ask him how he felt, or treated him like a human being?

"Ja. I am sure."

Still standing, unsure as to how to interpret the tone of his statement, you shot him a shy smile and sat down at a reasonable distance from the man, beginning to unpack the contents of your bag.

König kept stealing glances of you from under his eyebrows, trying to be discreet. Although he actually was uncomfortable — not used to company in the slightest, especially with someone so polite and courteous — he was oddly drawn to you.

He was thankful that you were oblivious to his status around these parts, and he wanted to leave a decent first impression on you before you finally overheard the true rumours about him, and paid attention to how quiet the cafeteria had gotten now that you two were sat together.

The thing was, he didn't know where to begin.

Communication was not his strong suit. He mused over potential ways of starting a conversation, yet not only had he never been faced with a situation like this, the language barrier was ever so present. Perhaps if he could speak to you in German he'd be able to formulate his thoughts better, yet at the moment it felt like all his knowledge of English seemingly evaporated in an instant.

"You prepared well your breakfast," he stated plainly, angling for any kind of small talk. He internally cringed at the order of those words and how wrong that sentence sounded in his voice, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

An awkward smile. "—W-wow. Thank you, sir!"

König felt his chest tighten, but he didn't know why. 

"My first day on base I had the misfortune of being served breakfast," you continued, "so, from then on I decided right then and there "never again". The food—" you laughed weakly, "—sure is something."

"Du hast recht," agreed König. "I mean... You are right. If I had a dog, I never would feed it this— these... scraps."

You could sense König hungrily devouring your food with his eyes. Although he tried to be subtle, he was not good at going unnoticed. Really, stealing glances of this behemonth in front of you, you kind of pitied the man, especially when the next edible meal would be in precisely 5 hours. With his breakfast beaten and bruised into an unrecognisable pulp, it was definitely too late for him to consume.

Mourning your sandwiches, you silently bid them farewell and took a deep breath:

"Well, sir. I would assume that you're hungry."  You took out the contents from your bag and slid them in front of him, smiling meekly. "You can have my breakfast."

He looked down at your two sandwiches and his eyes visibly widened under his hood; four thick slices of sourdough bread, a generous slather of butter, cheese, rocket lettuce, and thinly sliced pieces of meat, topped with tomatoes, and most likely seasoned with spring onion and pepper.

They looked so appetising, and he felt his mouth salivate, yet he shook his head vehemently. "Nein! Ich sollte das nicht tun, nicht, wenn du dich so sehr bemüht hast!"

You tilted your head in confusion. König mentally facepalmed.

"I-I mean... you tried very hard, and it isn't right of me. They are yours."

You waved a dismissive hand. "Honestly, you need them more than me. Have them."

"Einer wird ausreichen," He shook his head again, and picked up one slowly. "One will be enough."

He reached over to take one and you looked at him expectantly, patiently waiting for him to take a bite and give you his thoughts, yet it hit you. He was wearing his mask. He probably wouldn't eat in front of you.

A cough. "S-sorry. I'll look away while you eat it. Tell me what you think about it."

König practically shoved the entire thing in his mouth the moment your back faced him and and started choking. He saw you turning back to assist, but he raised a weak hand to stop you.

Getting over his coughing fit, he could finally appreciate the freshness and the flavour of the sandwich. It tasted of... nostalgia. Like the sandwiches his Mama would make for him after school to reassure him and to take his mind off the day's events. He felt like a young boy again. When he closed his eyes, for a split-second he imagined he was in the kitchen with his mother chatting energetically, taking his plate and ruffling his hair when he had finished and feeding him another, insisting that he "was a growing boy".

"So köstlich..." he said, and was disappointed to see that the sandwich was gone from his hands, already eaten. "Mein gott, that was perfekt. A sandwich of the Gods."

You turned around and you were beaming so brightly that König swore he would need to shield his eyes from the sight.

"Thank you so much! You don't know how happy that makes me."

You looked at him, your smile unwavering. "Do you know what would make me happier?"

He gave you a blank look. "...No?"

"If you ate the other one," you said, and König's eyes widened comically. "Though, please, be careful. Sandwiches can sure be a choking hazard," you dared tease him, and was actually surprised when he let out a quiet chuckle.

After savouring his second sandwich, the two of you were quiet. Although the tension had evaporated, the silence was deafening, and you felt suffocated by the lack of conversation.

"Uhm... Sir. What is your name?" A hesitant start, your hands folded neatly in your lap. "If it isn't too much of a personal question, of course."

He deliberated for a few moments, before responding with a quiet "König."

"König," you repeated, making sure to pronounce it properly. Your eyes widened in realisation, and you smiled broadly. "That's King, in German, right? That's so funny, because I go by King!"

König froze up like a statue.

"Holy fucking shit, what are the chances?" You rambled, not realising how quiet König had become. "Honestly, what are we doing here? Where are our castles, our riches? Our chariots led by silver horses and our toilets made of 24 carat gold?"

König shrugged stiffly. "Blown up by a grenade, I suppose."

You looked at him, dumbfounded, then burst into laughter. Like, fits of giggles, too many of them and too strong for his unbelievably dry response. Maybe that's why you were laughing so hard.

Either way, König couldn't believe it at first.

It was so... beautiful. Almost angelic in a way, despite you holding yourself up with a palm on the table and unable to contain your pig-like snorts. He could get used to hearing you laugh more often.

And, just like that, he dropped his guard. Slowly, all of his stiffness melted, and he became more of his confident self, this trait only ever coming out when he was actively shooting.

The two of you spent the entire length of breakfast chatting, joking, and telling each other things about each other. Although König insisted that his English wasn't good, you assured him that you understood him just fine — if anything, his confused looks and furrowed eyebrows at idioms you used were adorably endearing, each time earning a sympathetic giggle from you.

At some point — and though he would've been ashamed to admit it — he tuned out the babbling that came out of your mouth as he admired your face, noting all of your features: the colour of your eyes and how they'd crinkle in happiness whenever you smiled; the way your hair flowed and framed your face; taking the time to count all of the freckles on your nose and committing the number to memory.

He'd only catch himself staring when you'd suddenly finish talking. "But what do I know, I'm kind of stupid if you ask me. It's a wonder I passed the tests to qualify for this job in the first place."

You locked eyes with him, interested in hearing what he had to say. "What do you think, König? I bet you know the answer!"

To which he'd quickly clear his throat and respond with, "Ich weiß nicht. I don't know. To be... frank, though that is strange for me to say when I am not "Frank"—" 

You struggled to struggle to contain your laughter, and quickly apologized as soon as you stopped shaking, before attempting to explain to this clueless Austrian man why it was used. König didn't feel demeaned by your explanation, though, as he thought that his blunders would be worth it every time if it meant hearing you laugh so sweetly.

To König's dismay, half an hour flew by in minutes, and it was time to part ways as you began your daily duties.

As the two of you stood up, you initially had realised that König was taller than the average man based off how his knees could barely fit under the table.

You sure as fuck did not expect to see this.

He towered over you, casting a shadow down below. You had to strain your neck to make eye contact with him, and a painful cramp was already forming.

"Ha—ha.... you're pretty, uh... big."

That statement had more than one connotation. Gott sei Dank für diese Maske, he thought. Thank God for this mask, otherwise you would have seen the blush from his neck up to his ears after his mind went to a place he hadn't thought it'd go, especially not with a person he had formally met not even an hour ago.

"Oh well, I can finally put those 4-inch combat boots in the bottom of my closet to good use," you laughed, playfully nudging what meant to be his shoulder but your height difference meant that you instead touched his pec. Not that you minded though.

With your arms behind your back, you shyly averted your gaze. "Well... It was nice to meet you, König."

"You too... King."

Furrowing of brows as you tilted your head. "How do you say it in German? "Auf Wiedersehen"?"

"Ja, das ist es."

"Well then, Auf Wiedersehen, big guy. I'll see you around!"

Big guy... In more ways than one...

God. König had to get a grip.

Yet, with the way he was looking at your backside and fantasizing about your next meeting, he already knew that not even Gott could help him.

...

Note: I HATE this fucking fanfiction WITH MY SOUL 🤬🤬. This fucking thing was NEARLY FINISHED and I was in the process of tweaking yet my phone decided to erase half of my progress !!!! 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

My phone 📵 and God 🤬 didn't want this fanfiction getting published yet guess what!!! 🖕🖕🖕🖕Fuck you!!!🖕🖕🖕 Ive gotten it out anyways🗣️ fucking shaved a decade off of my life trying to recovervthe opening part of this fic,,

,,,,literally why did I get punished for writing a very mild and unextreme fanfic 😭😭😭😭 like the first half was just in Königs perspective and Ur telling me that i can't do that?????

I mf get fucking crucified like Jesus  on the cross, only this time I sarcificed my sleep and sanity to not be ressurected again,, bitch I would have rather died if I had known tjis would happen ☠️☠️ I could have actually SLEPT?!! 🤬🛌

Never again writing fanfictiosn on my phone, I can't trust this evil technology!!  I'm gonna draft them with PEN and PAPER bitch!!!! Typewriter!!!!!!!! Chalk On Pavement™!!!!!!!!!!!! PERMANENT MARKER ON MY FOREHEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...

If you read this rant of mine, I hope you have a lovely day/night, beautiful person. <33 (please wash your eyes after reading that,,I needed to release my anger somrjow don't judge me hhhhhhhHHHH—)

[screamforyani]

still into you

pairing ↠ ethan landry x (f) reader x jj maybank

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, angst, friends to lovers, childhood best friend!ethan, unprotected sex, mentions of a ghostface attack, violence, mentions of alcohol consumption

summary ↠ when ethan visits the outerbanks with his friends, he doesn’t expect to find you there. you don’t expect to see him there, either, but trying to reconcile during a series of ghostface attacks is harder than it seems.

wc ↠ 6.3k

author’s note ↠ pt. 1/4 of the still friends, not lovers series. feedback is appreciated!

Summer break was en route. 

Everyday was summer break with the pogues. Impromptu escapades around the island and treasure hunts that took you across the ocean, to your parents’ chagrin. 

Anything to spite them. Six years later and you still didn’t appreciate being bulldozed eight hours away from home. Alas, your ailing grandmother was dying, and you were an optionless fourteen-year-old. Not that you didn’t care about your grandmother. Matter of fact, it wasn’t until she passed and all the grief wore you thin that you fell out with your parents. 

They just didn’t understand that you were an adult. You were more than capable of making your own decisions. Sure, plenty of them were careless, but half of it was their fault. 

That said, you fell in love with your life in the Outer Banks. The reckless exploits and dangerous feats. Your toes in the sand and the sun in your eyes. The splashing and surfing. 

You fell in love with something else, too. 

An engine resounded down the street and you turned, catching an eye full of dirty blonde while the ground reverberated beneath your feet as JJ parked in your driveway. 

“Dude,” you started, jogging over to your best friend. “Didn’t I tell you that you can’t just speed through here?”

“Damn, y’all strict on Figure Eight,” JJ retorted, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. “Hop on, everyone’s waiting for us and I told ‘em we’d be there in an hour.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Fuck, did I forget to mark another scavenger hunt in my calender?”

JJ’s sunglasses fell onto the bridge of his nose and he made no move to fix them, chirping, “You know, I was actually thinking more of a beach day. Surfing and sunburn. That kind of thing.”

You huffed, “Because you always forget to wear sunscreen. Why do I have to be the one to remind you?”

“Uh, because we’re best friends and you love me,” JJ said, flashing a full set of teeth. 

You rolled your eyes, backing away from his bike (and ignoring the warmth spreading through your chest). “Don’t move. I’m going to throw on my bikini.”

JJ shouted behind you, watching you run up your front steps, “Yo, could you bring some sunscreen?”

You shook your head in disbelief, vying against a beaming smile for control and losing miserably. When you were safely in your room, you rummaged your drawer and exited in your favorite, racy orange bikini with a beach bag slung loosely over your shoulder. 

Your father was currently occupying the living room and you parted your lips to tell him bye, opting to get out of there as quickly as possible after you spotted the scowl on his face, but he stood squarely in front of you.

Oh, brother, you thought to yourself. This guy gave other overprotective fathers a run for their money. 

“That boy is on my lawn again,” he hissed indignantly. 

“Yes, I know,” you chirped offhandedly. “And the longer you stand in front of me, the longer he’ll be waiting out there.”

Your father wasn’t pleased, if the disdainful glance he cocked you was any indication. “Your mother and I don’t like you going out with those kids. You know this.”

“Yes, I know, you hate pogues. We’ve been over this,” you droned, fighting a roll of your eyes. “Sorry to break it to you, Dad, but I’m a pogue!”

“It’s not about kooks or pogues - it’s about keeping you safe! This family has been troubled with enough grief,” your father shouted. 

You bristled, raising your voice even louder, “For fuck’s sake, Dad. We’re just going to the beach! Don’t you see the bikini? The worst case scenario is I drown.”

Your father opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. 

“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad. If I want to hang out with people from The Cut I will and there’s nothing you or Mom can do to stop me,” you seethed, stepping around him and slamming the door on the way out. 

Fortunately JJ was right where you’d left him and his eyes flitted over to you when he heard the loud, forceful slam of your front door. Your obvious shift in body language coupled with the less than faint shouting he heard told him everything he needed to know. 

“Get me far, far away from this place,” you grumbled, mounting his bike and wrapping your arms around his waist snugly. 

JJ revved the engine for effect, like he was trying to make a statement. “Let me guess - your old man old-manning again?”

“Yeah,” you huffed. “No worries. My mom will probably be home soon and they’ll talk about how much of a thorn in their side I am together.”

Pulling out of the driveway, JJ quipped, “They’ve got the house all to themselves. Maybe they’ll make another baby so they can finally stop treating you like one.”

You grimaced at the idea. “And risk having it turn out just like me? I’m sure they’d rather chew bricks.”

Your best friend clenched his jaw. He couldn’t even count on both hands anymore the amount of times he’d thought of pummeling your father to the ground. Something about the guy and how he treated you just triggered a different dimension of rage. 

The beach was all the fun you could ask for. Sarah and John B decided it would be a great idea to bring water guns without telling anyone and ambush the other five of you. You slipped off your flip flops to travel faster, hot sand scalding your bare feet. 

Had JJ not shoved you out of the way, you would’ve been blindsided by the volleyball hurling your direction. 

“Sorry!” came a distant voice, jogging over to check up on you. 

When their face came into your vision, you saw their eyes widen and their lips split, but you spoke before he got the chance, “Ethan?”

JJ whispered in your ear, “You know this uncoordinated klutz?”

Ethan whispered your name. 

Longing possessed you and you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug. Tears threatened. The sun was your best friend, his warmth spreading through you. Feelings hit you like a freight train. “I thought I’d never see you again,” you whimpered. 

Ethan gently placed his arms around you, unsure of where to put his hands. You were very exposed and he didn’t want to touch you in any of the wrong places. But Jesus Christ you were working the hell out of that bikini. 

Something switched in Ethan when he saw you. You didn’t at all look the same as when he’d last saw you six years ago. For one, you were taller and your hips were a little fuller now. You were a grown ass woman. 

Ethan’s eyes flickered. It’s been that long?

Holding you in his arms, sensing his heart race, he wondered why all those feelings he had for you never changed. 

JJ cleared his throat and you shuffled back a couple of feet. You awkwardly introduced, “Oh, um, JJ this is Ethan. We were best friends when I lived in Manhattan. Ethan, this is JJ - my new best friend.”

Ethan smiled sheepishly, stretching out his hand. “Nice to, uh, meet you.”

“Yeah, man. Something like that,” JJ replied, forcing a grin while shaking Ethan’s hand for the most fleeting of seconds. 

Feeling the tension, you glimpsed back at the pogues and said, “Jay, Kie looks like she’s struggling with something and Pope and John B are fussing, and I don’t see Sarah or Cleo, so...”

JJ glanced towards the ground, chuckling. “Yeah, I should probably go help her with that. I’ll get outta y’alls way.”

You called behind him, “No, wait, it’s not like that!”

“I’m going,” JJ replied without looking back, taking off his cap and tousling a hand through his blond hair.

You blew out a breath, turned to face Ethan, and froze. For a second, you were borderline catatonic. You couldn’t even breathe. Like the fish were sucking up all the air. You gathered the strength to ask, “What are you doing in the Outer Banks?”

“Oh, for summer break my friends and I wanted to go on vacation together. I didn’t think I’d see you here since, you know, you never told me where you were heading. Or said goodbye.”

His obvious disdain weighed on his tone and you understood every bit of his feelings, but the gleam of yearning in his pretty brown eyes betrayed the hurt. 

“You know I wanted to,” you replied, taking a step closer. You were panicking, worried your best friend hated you like you thought he would have. If you could even call him that anymore. “I desperately wanted to stop the car then and there and run the whole way to your house, but I couldn’t do that and I’m sorry.”

“Yo, who’s this?” came a masculine voice. You immediately noticed the dude throwing an arm over Ethan’s shoulder, about his height, give or take. 

Five more people followed. You assumed correctly that they were the friends he spoke of. Good to know someone’s been keeping you company, you thought to yourself. 

Ethan made a face and hurriedly gave them your name before introducing, “This is Chad, my roommate. Mindy, his sister. Sam, Tara, Anika, and Quinn.”

Your eyes widened when you laid eyes on Quinn.

You almost spoke, but Ethan beat you to a word. “Hey, can I talk to you alone for a second?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said, furrowing your brows, but following him nonetheless. 

Once his friends were out of earshot, Ethan asked, “Could you please not say anything about Quinn being my sister?”

You made a face. “What - why?”

Ethan searched his brain for a convincing lie and came up with, “Nobody knows and we made a bet about who would slip up first.”

You didn’t question the authenticity of his words. Why would Ethan lie? “Good luck with that. You were never the lucky sibling when it came to bets.”

Ethan chuckled. “I’ve changed. And I can sell a good lie. For example, my name’s Ethan Landry and I have no siblings.”

“Okay, Ethan Landry, no siblings,” you quipped. “Your friends are waiting for you and mine are waiting for me. I’ll catch you later?”

Ethan bobbed his head. “Yeah. Sure. That’s cool.”

“It was nice seeing you.”

“Nice seeing you, too,” Ethan replied. 

You watched him walk away, getting a view of his sexy back and broad shoulders. He sure did change, that was for sure. Holy fucking shit. 

You walked back over to the pogues, oblivious to the huge grin you were sporting. Maybe you would notice it once your cheeks started to hurt. 

Cleo had returned with Sarah and was sitting on the cooler. “Who’s that?”

“Some asshole with really bad aim,” JJ replied with a straight face.

You cocked him a glance, hissing, “JJ!”

JJ threw up his hands, but didn’t back down. “You didn’t see the way he threw that ball. Even my nephew has better eye-hand coordination.”

Pope nodded his head in agreement. “I mean, it was a bad throw.”

John B winced, adding, “Yeah, you’ve got to admit it was kind of off.”

You rolled your eyes.

Nightfall came down. You’d been tipsy by dusk, thanks to your best friend’s idea of a good time. Everyone was officially spent, ready to sleep in till noon. Your legs ached from running all day like the police were hot on your trail.

Approaching you while you were helping your friends pack was one of Ethan’s friends, specifically his roommate. Chad, if memory served. He spoke your name and said, “Special delivery for a special lady.”

Your eyes flickered in surprise.

Chad handed you a card as if he was doing business with you, shot you an inviting smile, and leaned into your ear to whisper, “Just in case you need help finding your way.”

Then, he was gone. 

Sarah was amused. “What was that all about?”

“Yeah, what’s on the card?” asked Kiara, draping a duffle bag over her shoulders. 

You stood there, eyes flitting down to the card in your hands. There was an address scribbled in black ink, with a little note at the bottom and a smiley face. Whenever you’re ready, you can knock. 

You vaguely recognized the address as one of the houses along the shoreline. That must have been where they were staying. And Ethan was indirectly inviting you to come see him?

“Nothing important,” you lied, swiftly shoving the card into your bag. If you noticed the way JJ’s eyes lingered over you, you didn’t say anything. 

That night, you hardly slept. Your mind was roaring and your thoughts were restless. For a second, you thought Ethan hated you, just like fourteen-year-old you dreaded. But he invited you over. That was definitely his doodle and handwriting. There was no way it was a prank. 

When you did finally sleep, you dreamt of him. Bonding with your childhood best friend and making up for lost time. You dreamt of professing your love to him like you never got the chance to and kissing him like you’d always wanted. 

All you could see was the stars in his eyes for a minute. It made no sense for you to still be head over heels for Ethan after all these years. But all that history was conflicting with your current feelings and it was like a head-on collision. 

Crash and burn. 

After a sleepless night, you were at the chateau bright and early. Apparently John B had a lead and another day spent looking for treasure didn’t sound like the worst thing ever. 

Especially considering you were trying to take your mind off of recent events. 

Sirens blared down the street, making each of you turn your heads. One by one, you saw police cars zipping down the roads. You shuddered. You were getting deja vu. 

Confusion tensed Pope’s features and he squinted at the sight. Only the seven of you typically merited that level of attention, though as it turned out, they had a new target. “Is that a parade?” he asked. 

John B gave him a look. “Really? You think parades go that fast?”

“Nope. That’s a full-blown cop inroad,” JJ replied, watching the column of cars disappear.

You furrowed your brows, wondering what had them up so early. 

Perfectly on cue, Kie, who had been noticeably late, hopped out of her car and sped up the porch like lightning. “You guys aren’t going to believe what I just heard,” she panted, dropping in a chair.

“What happened?” you asked. 

Kie caught her breath before replying, “Before I snuck out, I overheard my parents talking about how a friend got attacked last night by someone in a Ghostface costume, but survived.”

“Ghostface?” JJ repeated, throwing you a glance. “Ain’t that like that Stab shit you watch?”

You bobbed your head, keeping quiet. You watched way too many scary movies for this kind of bullshit. You’d heard of the original attacks in Woodsboro, but you never expected them to come to you. A different kind of fear choked your lungs. 

Kie continued, “I drove by the scene on the way here, and you know what I hear Shoupe saying? It’s probably one of us damn pogues.”

“Well, his opinion of us is in the dirt,” Pope muttered under his breath. 

You pulled out your phone, pretending to get a notification. All you cared about right now was making sure all of your friends were safe. The old and new ones. You grabbed your keys and blurted, “Gotta go. My dad wants me back home. See you guys later!”

Before anybody could protest or remind you of today’s plans, you were already halfway to your car. 

Sarah glanced between her friends, confused, and asked the question everyone was thinking to themselves, “Since when does she listen to her dad?”

Speeding back to the beach, your thoughts were with Ethan. Obviously some random kook had been attacked, but you wanted to make sure the news reached him - and his friends - in time. You’d just gotten your friend back. You couldn’t have him added to the list of casualties. 

You double, quadruple checked the address when you parked in the driveway before you ran to the front door. Your heart was racing. Every second spent waiting made you nauseous. 

When the door opened, you saw Ethan. You didn’t even give him a chance to speak, pulling him in for a hug as you heaved a breath of relief. “Thank goodness, you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Ethan said, hugging you a little more comfortably this time. “I’m guessing you heard the news too, huh?”

You bobbed your head, pulling back. “Yeah. I came as soon as I heard. I wanted to make sure you weren’t left in the dark.”

“That’s, uh, thoughtful of you.”

You grinned sheepishly. 

Ethan mirrored your smile. To say things were awkward would be the understatement of the year. He added, “I think we should talk.”

You chuckled nervously, looking down at your toes. “Kinda overdue, huh?”

Ethan pointed backwards with his thumb, replying, “I’ve got a beach for a backyard and nobody’s back there.”

Glancing down, you gulped. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. When did Ethan Bailey get hot? You banished the thoughts immediately. Priorities, girl. Priorities, you chided to yourself. Hoping he hadn’t noticed your distracted gaze, you chirped, “Sounds good.”

Ethan beckoned you inside, shutting the door behind you, and brought you towards the back. You briefly greeted his friends when you passed them on your way out, the distressed looks on their faces not being lost on you. 

You breathed in the fresh beach air when you stepped outside, opting to abandon your sandals on the patio so that you could bury your toes in the hot sand again. 

Minutes of just wallowing in the silence together passed. Maybe it wasn’t exactly silent, but peaceful. You could hear seagulls cooing and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore before drawing back into the ocean. 

“I’m not mad,” Ethan said after a prolonged pause. 

Your eyes darted to his face. “Why?”

Ethan was looking at you with unfathomable tenderness, like you created the very sea rushing before your bodies. There was something reminiscent in his stare. “Because you were fourteen. Your hands were tied.”

That was true. You couldn’t get that day out of your head. Driving past his house with your fingers flat to the window like you were trapped in the backseat of your parents’ car, watching him obliviously help his dad out in the yard for all of two seconds before the sight was gone. 

And you never saw him again. Until yesterday, of course. 

“I heard from your neighbor that your grandma was sick,” Ethan whispered. 

Your heart was taut with emotion, a weight sitting squarely on your chest. “Yeah. We left as soon as we got the news. She, uh… she passed away four years ago.”

Ethan’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry.”

“We were expecting it,” you said, not that it made it any better. Tears burned your eyes, but you fought them with all your strength. You remembered spending every waking hour in that goddamn hospital. “She wasn’t getting any better. She was dying and she knew. After she passed, I had a falling out with my parents. All things considered.”

Spotting the petulant look on your face, Ethan was quick to slip his fingers through yours in consolation. You fought a smile. That always did make you feel a bit better. “If it helps, I lost someone too.”

“Who?”

Ethan heaved a breath. His face was dark for a fraction of a second before he confessed, “Richie.”

Your heart dropped. “No way. Are you serious? What happened?”

“He was murdered. Last year,” Ethan whispered, wistful. “Stabbed.”

That made you even more sad. You’d always liked Richie. He was like the older brother you never had and the sole reason you loved horror movies. 

You squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry,” you crooned. “Did they catch who stabbed him?”

“My dad says they’re working on it,” Ethan said quietly. 

“They better catch them.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, mood shifting. “Would’ve made a difference if I had you to lean on.”

There was a sinking feeling in your chest, but Ethan didn’t give you the chance to speak.

Ethan gave you a knowing look, pulling you flush to him, and said tenderly, “You have nothing to feel guilty about. If you’re guilty, then I’m guilty. I wasn’t there for you either. But we have each other right now.”

You locked eyes with him, wanting to be everything he needed. You would hurt twice as much if it meant you could take away all of his pain. “That’s all that matters.”

One second, you were staring at each other, sporting beaming smiles. And the very next? Your lips were locking. 

Kissing him was even better than you used to (and admittedly still did every now and again) dream of. It was slow and sweet, like you were taking your time with each other. Your heart thudded. 

Pulling back, the two of you giggled. Ethan confessed, “I’ve always wanted to kiss you like that.”

That made your heart do somersaults. Like twenty. “Me, too.”

You were giddy with excitement. Ethan took your hand in his again and walked with you along the shore, chatting with you about everything under the sun. Like old times.  

There was no doubt that you missed Ethan. He was your person and you were his. It felt euphoric to be in his arms where you’d longed to be for six whole years. And it felt… right. Almost as if you’d left your heart with him. 

Maybe you did. A piece of it, at least. 

When you returned, he brought you to a hammock. All he could think about was you. How you laughed at all his stupid jokes. She still has a mesmerizing smile. He was squinting at you, deep in thought. 

You sat on the hammock, peering up at your best friend. “Why are you squinting at me?”

Ethan was smiling like an idiot. “The sun’s in my eyes.”

You gave him a look, baffled. Both of you were in the shade. The tree that the hammock was hanging from served as a great shelter. Then, you realized he was talking about you. 

Heat filled your cheeks. You wrapped your legs around his waist and steered his head towards your face, kissing him again. You just couldn’t get enough. 

First, it was steady and gentle. You were kissing each other with all the affections you had to give, feeling every inch of your bodies burn with want and passion. Ethan’s hand slipped down to your hips, holding you still. He sucked on your tongue and you moaned, tightening your legs. 

In a matter of seconds, the mood shifted. 

A gasp of surprise escaped you when Ethan pushed your back to the hammock and trapped you under his weight, only slightly rougher than before. His lips bruised your neck, marking you for all the island to know who you belonged to. 

Your dad was going to go ballistic when he saw those, but ironically, he wasn’t who you were worried about. 

Ethan caught your worries in his palm and crushed them. All you could think about when he kissed you was how badly you needed him to mend the ache between your thighs. Your skin was on fire, your heart skipping a beat the closer he got to your waist. 

Anticipation was killing you softly. Ethan glanced up at you and asked, “Can I take off your shirt?”

You nodded. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. 

Ethan grabbed your shirt and you briefly sat up while he pulled it over your head, revealing your lacy black bra. His mouth was watering. 

His stare combined with his lack of speech or action made you slightly self-conscious. “Are you just going to look at me?” you prodded. 

“Sorry. It’s just… you’re beautiful,” Ethan whispered, breathless. “I have to stop and marvel for a second.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t battle the smile on your lips. 

Bringing a hand behind your back, you unclipped your bra and let it drop, throwing it somewhere on the hammock. You desperately pulled Ethan into you, sucking a bruise onto your neck while he made a noise and kneaded your breasts. 

Nobody could see you. You were in a little nook by the shore, cloaked by trees. As far as you were concerned, it was just you and your best friend. And the sea. 

His body was so warm in your hands, so sensitive. You saw him shudder and suck in a breath every time you marked him, sinking your teeth into his skin. Your lips felt like silk and the sensations were colliding. 

Ethan tapped your bare back, making you grind to a screeching halt. You immediately pulled back, wanting to be sure you hadn’t hurt him, but he was quicker. “Are we really doing this?”

“If you want to, yeah,” you told him, brows furrowed. Then, you asked, “Do you not want to?”

Ethan hurriedly explained, “No, I want to. But I’ve never done this before.”

“Really?” That surprised you. He kissed like a pro. And with how confident he was, you would have never guessed. Plus he was fine as hell. Girls must have been throwing themselves at him. 

Ethan sat to your right, more than a little flushed. “Yeah. Never gone past third base. I mean, I had all the chances in the world, but I didn’t want to.” Because I was waiting for you. 

“That’s okay. Everybody moves at their own pace,” you reassured him, smoothing a hand down his thigh. 

His eyes darted to your hand. “What about you?”

You laughed, though it was nervous. The body count conversation. Your favorite. “Well, I’m not exactly pure anymore. I lost my virginity to Topper Thornton. Not my favorite guy in the world. Then, I fucked some dude whose name I don’t remember. And finally, I fucked my best friend.”

Ethan reeled his head. “The one that hates me?”

You blew out a breath. “Yeah. The one that hates you.”

“Well,” Ethan started, sporting a wry grin. “Fourth time’s the charm?”

You giggled, grabbing the back of his head and kissing him again and again. Until your lips were swollen and Ethan decided he wanted to kiss something else. 

Sucking in a breath, you parted your legs for him, your panties now tossed into oblivion. Ethan, knees buried in the sand, met your eyes and said sternly, “If you want me to stop, don’t be afraid to tell me.”

You bobbed your head. “Okay.”

Then, he was eating you out. 

You made a noise at the sensation of his hot mouth against your warm cunt. He was licking and sucking, his tongue out to devour you whole. Your chest heaved when he rounded your clit, making your pussy tighten. 

Ethan’s big hands were holding your thighs on either side of his head, his firm grip keeping them locked in place. You couldn’t move them if you tried. His strength was a little more arousing than you cared to admit.��

If you were counting, you’d only been eaten out once before now. Both times by your best friends. Jesus fucking Christ, they didn’t miss with the foreplay. 

Muscles tensed in your thighs. Your whole body was awake, far from numb to the sensation. You were so sensitive that even his brushing lips made you tremble and try to squirm, but Ethan had power over your entire body. Including its movements. 

“Shit. You’re really good at this. Like,” you stammered, your words canceled by a moan. God fucking dammit. You couldn’t even speak. 

That was the kind of control he had over you. 

Ethan was getting hard watching you break at his mercy, his half-hard cock aggressively twitching in his pants. He didn’t want to bust a nut in his pants, but he neared dangerously close every time you called out his name. 

Your anchor was his hair, fingers tangled through his fluffy head. You needed to feel like there was something to ground you. Every time you closed your eyes, you were convinced you were levitating. And every time his thumb circled your clit, you winced your eyes shut. 

She tastes like heaven, was all Ethan could think. He didn’t want to stop. Not until you’d come undone in his arms, crying out his name. If nothing else, he wanted to make you scream. 

You were already halfway there. For fuck’s sake, it made no sense how quick he was to finish you. You were so aroused, so full of wanting. Your body was calling out to him. 

So was your heart, but you tried to ignore her. She didn’t know what the hell she wanted. Or what the hell was good for you. Nor did she care. 

Fuck, you were so restless. It was too much, but not enough all at once. You didn’t understand. How could your body be so conflicted? Your heart was already warring with itself. No man should have had this kind of power over you. 

But Ethan did. The ecstasy he made you feel was otherworldly, like the gods had sent him to you and it was no coincidence that you’d met again. Like we were meant to be. 

“Baby, I’m so close,” you rasped, losing your grip. Your vision was blurring and everything was hazy. 

Ethan perked up at the little name, but something about it - combined with the announcement of your impending orgasm - made him pull out all the stops. His hand abandoned its clutch on your thigh, fingers slipping into your cunt. 

You cried out when his thumb brushed your clit again, but nothing could prepare you for the pair of fingers between your walls, coating themselves in your slick. Throwing your head back, you balled your hands into fists. You were broken. So fucking broken. 

“Eth,” you whispered, because it was all that you could manage. You desperately endeavored to meet his movements, grinding your hips into his mouth. Your body was begging for release. 

Ethan was more than happy to give it to you. His tongue lingered at your clit, applying way too much pressure to be safe, and it was enough to finish you then and there. You shook with climax, trying to fight him away, because you couldn’t handle the overstimulation. 

Slumping on the hammock, your whole body went limp. Your lips parted in a loud, euphoric cry of his name, weakness gathering in your eyes as you tried to get over the high of your orgasm. It hit you like a damn freight train.

For a second, you couldn’t speak. You could hardly breathe. Ethan pulled back, admiring his handiwork. He all but came in his pants. 

You blinked a couple of times, sensitive tears in your eyes. “Jesus.”

Ethan perked up. “How did I do?”

All you could do was give him a thumbs up. Your throat was hoarse from screeching his name and you more than likely needed a glass or two of water. 

“Can I fuck you now?”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” you replied without a second of hesitation.

There was a smile on Ethan’s face before he pushed your back to the hammock for a third time (not that he was counting) and kissed your neck. You gulped, aroused. Not only at the feeling of his teeth in your neck, but his hard cock. 

He couldn’t believe how naked you were in front of him, only for him. Taking you on a hammock on the beach was something he would have never imagined. Not even in his wildest dreams. 

Ethan stripped out of his clothes, leaving you to watch with bated breath. Your heart stopped when you caught sight of his dick, curling tall against his stomach. He had no business being this size. 

“That is going to take me out,” you said, almost a little worried. 

“I was hoping that I could take you out,” Ethan quipped, always having time to make silly jokes no matter the occasion. Only he was half serious. 

“You are,” you exhaled. “And you can.”

Ethan smirked. Everything was falling into place. 

You gasped when he finally penetrated you after what felt like ages. Ethan whimpered, slowly sinking into you in fear of hurting you, but he couldn’t wait to move. Your pussy gripped him immediately, throttling his cock. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him into you, deepening his position. When he was finally buried to the hilt inside of you, the two of you let out a noise of perfect sync. 

“Holy shit,” he hissed, grabbing at your thighs and finding purchase in them. 

You were extremely sensitive from climax and felt so overcome, but a little bit of your fight returned when you remembered you were his first. “How does it feel?”

“Tight,” Ethan staggered, breathless. “Really tight.”

You hummed. “What else?”

The only way Ethan could see this was as you trying to break him back. “Warm. And wet. Holy fucking shit.”

You smiled contentedly. That was what you liked to hear. 

Ethan found a rhythm, particularly one that made your eyes roll. For a virgin, he wasn’t as bad as some of the other people you’d slept with. For one, he wasn’t jack-hammering you. 

It felt so good for him, but he wanted to make sure that the feeling was mutual. Ethan locked eyes with you, asking, “Is this okay?”

“Baby, this couldn’t be better,” you panted, grabbing onto his forearm. 

That was a great answer. Ethan leaned into you, resting some of his weight on you, and kissed you with desperation. Like he would never get the chance again. You moaned into his mouth, fisting your fingers through his hair while your other hand raked down his back. 

His eyes winced shut at the feeling of your nails in his back, but there was something about the pain that was also pleasure. Plus as long as you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t give less of a damn. 

If you wanted to use him for your own pleasure, he was more than content with that. He wanted to serve you. He wanted to be everything - and the only thing - you needed. Your friend and your lover. 

But you were also so snug around his cock that he was going to bust. Luckily for him, you were close. The previous orgasm helped him make short work of you. 

Ethan grunted, all the heat going straight to his dick. “Where do you want me to cum?”

“Flip me over,” you said through ragged breaths. 

Ethan’s eyes widened, but he followed your commands. You cried out when he flipped you over, spread your legs apart again, and stuffed you full of his cock again. You were floating on a cloud. There was no way this was really happening. 

A couple more thrusts was as long as you could hold out and you came again, your orgasm ripping through you. Your hands bundled into fists, gripping nothing in particular. 

That was all it took to finish Ethan. He wallowed in the godly sight of your ass and your pussy squeezing him for dear life, and he pulled out at the very last second, releasing with a deep sound rising from the very back of his throat. You could feel his cum on your ass. 

Ethan collapsed over you, his weight on your chest. Both of you spent a moment catching your breath, completely and thoroughly spent. You smirked at the blank look on his face and panted, “Home run.”

The joke took Ethan a second, but once he understood, he burst into a fit of giggles with you. 

Both of you got cleaned up and removed all evidence of sexual intercourse. Then, you decided to walk the shore again, arm in arm. You leaned against his chest, smiling. 

Ethan couldn’t get enough of you. Just the sight of you made his chest warm. He whispered softly, “You have a really pretty smile, you know.”

You parted your lips to reply, but before you got the chance, you felt something scrape at your shoulder and cried out in a mixture of pain and shock.

Turning, you saw a masked figure holding a knife. You gulped. 

Ethan exclaimed, “Run!”

You grabbed his hand, pulling him with you. Like hell you were leaving him alone with a psychopathic killer. Unfortunately, Ghostface gave chase. 

“Baby,” he started. “Run back to the house.”

You gave him a look, shouting, “And abandon you to get murdered? New plan.”

“Listen to me,” Ethan said sternly. “Go back to the house. Tell everyone to lock the doors. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

You shook your head. Tears threatened. 

Ethan grabbed your hand, kissing the back. “I love you. Do this for me. Please.”

You heaved a breath, finally nodding. “Okay. I love you, too.”

Then, you split up, darting back to the house. You didn’t look back. You were too scared of seeing something worthy of haunting you in your nightmares. 

Ethan hid behind a cart, obscured from your view. Ghostface came up to him, lowered their knife, and Ethan hissed, “What the hell, Quinn? This wasn’t a part of the plan.”

Quinn snatched off her mask, seething, “That bitch almost exposed us yesterday. She could have ruined our plans.”

“But she didn’t,” Ethan spat back, full of vitriol. “I’ve got it under control. I told her we’re in a bet. Don’t fucking hurt her. She’s off-limits.”

Quinn obviously wasn’t pleased, throwing back on her mask and walking away without another word. 

Ethan ran a hand through his hair. Finding you here was both a blessing and a curse. He didn’t need you to be collateral damage. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled under his breath. 

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[yaut-jaknowit]

Reader introducing Woftik to the concept of ooman winter holidays, maybe some gift giving. Tooth rotting fluff

The Holidays

Pairing: Woftik (male Yautja) x GN!reader

Word Count: 2744

Summary: In the vast winter lands of Yautja Prime, Woftik and his mate get to learn about ooman holidays. Woftik doesn't understand it but with the help of his ooman mate, he comes to learn and participate in it. If it means keeping you happy, he's up for it.

Author Note: Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays everyone! Hope everyone has a great end of the year and is preparing for the next. Here's your present! If you guys want a second part, let me know!

Masterlist

Ao3

The Yautja calendar and yours were different. Very different. After your time on Yautja Prime, the days have blended together far too much to remember when was when back home. Truly, it didn’t matter. You’ve made your choice to stick it out on Woftik’s planet. There was nothing to change your mind… besides the damned blizzards that forcefully board up the huts in your small village. The clan, Nacht Klinge, gets wiped off of the map for the time being.

During those months where little light would shine on the lands, casting them in darkness, you considered those to be the winter months. Similar to your own planet. It was the only way to make sense of the changing scenes.

For a fact, you knew the days were longer. On your first week, let alone day on the planet, you knew this immediately. At first, you believed it to be jet lag, or whatever you would consider traveling from planet to planet was. Yet, you later learned they have an extra five hours to their day.

Yautja’s calendars were something you didn’t dare mess with. Confusing with all the changes that happen. The months were weird. The days long, The weeks were six days compared to seven. You just went along with it. They weren’t anything you needed to fret over. If a day of importance came up, Woftik would remind you or let you know. He grew up with said calendar. It’s best to let him handle the confusion than the headache it would surely give you.

When the winter months rolled over the Nacht Klinge clan, an idea came to mind. The winter holidays. Presents; lights; gifts; family; joy. All of it. Your face soured. With the pros of living under your mate’s house, came cons as well. No people to celebrate with. Humans, at least. The Yautjas aren’t ones to have extreme holidays. Though in a sense, they had religion. Holidays usually came from religion.

Now, what could you even get Woftik as a present? He’s the caretaker and hunter. You do outside every once awhile, under the careful watch of those black eyes of his. The lands may look desolate but monsters, predators stalk their prey under the snow. The opposite of a fox or snow owl. Woftik ensured you understood, though not feared, the dangers that lurk beyond the protection of his home.

And you did. As a human though, you required the sun. Through your time in your new home, the color of your skin has lightened over time. Just enough to be noticeable.

Some time ago, you remember coming down with a terrible illness that could even affect a Yautja. Woftik freaked out. Yautja’s rarely got sick. So when they do, it’s serious. He sprinted the whole way to get you to the doctor of the village. Though younger than Woftik by a couple hundred years, she laughed at him before explaining how weak ‘ooman’ systems are. Poor man looked like he had a couple of years shaved off.

Deep in thought, you smiled subconsciously, eyes glazed over. Your head shook side to side to clear any memories still lingering. Times like that bulldoze any doubts over. Like weeds, they do return. But, hey, you’re human. Nothing can change the way you or your species thought.

Hard keratin gently pressed to the top of your head. Jolted from your thoughts, your head whipped up to find the dark gaze of your mate peering over the edge of the couch at you. “Woftik!” you spoke his name in surprise before lifting yourself to your knees and spinning around to face the off-white Yautja.

Small bits of snow clung to his clothing on his shoulders. Nothing out of ordinary. The low light of the twenty-nine hour days didn’t require him to use the googles designed to protect his eyes from the harsh sun or the reflective snow.

The chief of his clan dipped his head in greetings. You instantly wrapped your arms around the large male’s waist, not able to touch your hands together behind him. A size and heaviness needed in these harsher climates.

His body stayed soft in your hold, arms reaching to rub between your shoulder blades. Then, you let your arms fall to the couch, orbs still looking up at him. Woftik chuffed then leaned down to place another closed mandible kiss on the top of your head. “What has my little minx been up to?” he rumbled and walked around the short couch.

The lumbering giant scooped you from the seat, sat down himself, and let you rest on the new open spot. Muscular arms stayed wrapped around your smaller frame. A kind smile broke across your face, unable to glance away from those dark, light-consuming eyes of his. “Nothing much.”

Former thoughts flashed in your mind. A bittersweet feeling swelling behind your breastbone. Woftik was your new family.

A sharp, light grey claw tapped the tip of your nose and brought you from your mind. Eyes once glazed over peered back into the dark orbs of Woftik’s. “What is on your mind, mate?” his deep voice vibrated through his chest and into your side.

“Well…” you trailed off for a moment to think about how to explain this. From your limited knowledge, Yautjas have holidays but nothing like how human do or even celebrate. You chewed at the inside of your lip for a second before a light bulb shined above your head. “Okay, so humans have holidays. Presents, gatherings, family drama, the whole nine yards. Chaos in a pot. Well, I was wondering if we could maybe celebrate?”

There was an expression of indifference on his older features. The darkness of his eyes didn’t allow many of emotions to reflect in them. This left you to ponder what was rolling around in his massive head.

“Of course, if you don’t want to, I won’t make you. I… I just miss those things from my home, you know?” A nervous look presented itself as my expression. Not one born of fear, but from the known if Woftik would do this with you.

The arms around you unwrapped themselves to rest on the back of the couch. He looked like peace itself when he presented himself like this. “What does this holiday or holiday entail?”

Instantly, you perked up with a wide smile spilting your lips. “Really?!” Amusement flash through his eyes. “Yes! Okay, so I celebrate a day called Christmas. It’s really big in the states. It’s about a man named santa who delievers presents to children who’ve been good. The bad kids get coal.”

Off-white brows furrowed the longer you talked. “Wait, are you saying a random male breaks into your dwelling and gives you something?” he questioned in disbelief. How could anyone be okay with that?! He rarely let anyone over to his private hut. You are here, protected from the dangers of his world. To alone another of species to enter could endanger your life. A risk he wasn’t willing to take.

The laugh in return didn’t ease the tension in his body. “No, silly! It’s a sham. Santa doesn’t exist. It’s a story to tell to kids so they be good or else they won’t get any toys as a reward,” you explained and smack his chest with the back of your hand. It hurt you more than him.

Woftik hummed. “Strange. Does it work?” From the little experience he had with the oomans home planet, he truly didn’t know if it worked. His species use a more physical, firmer approach to unruly offspring. He’s had his fair share of smacks when he was a child. He learned from his mother not to do that the safer way then figuring it out if it stole his life.

You reached behind your neck to scratch an nonextant itch. “Eh, from the last year I was back on earth, the new generation was growing worse with their attitude and disrespect. Thankfully, I won’t have to worry about that being here and with you.”

By Paya’s grace, he loved the way you looked up at him, such a compassionate look. The day you died, he would wish to keep your eyes for the rest of his life. He knew it wouldn’t be the same, a fact that would forever sit heavy in his chest.

“So, what do you say? Wanna have a Christmas with me this year?” you asked with hope sparkling in your pupils. Woftik was a harden chief, a stern hand when it came to ensuring his clan survived every harsh month in these barren lands. When it came to you, his sweet, little ooman, he could never say no. Not when you look at him like that. Plus, the holiday sounded fun.

A grunt sounded from his deep barrel chest. “Why not.” You squealed and hugged the big male again, hands unable to touch each other.

“Thank you! Thank you!” you chanted then stood up on the couch. The added height was just enough to reach his face. Your lips touched at one of his lower mandibles in a mock kiss. The best the two of you could do while he had no lips to return he affection.

From the happiness apparent on your alien face, Woftik internally smiled at the sight. It was the right choice to do this with you. He rubbed a brow against your temple in affection. “Of course, my mate.” Woftik pulled back enough to look you in eye, a scaly brow raised in question. “When shall this ‘Christmas’ occur?”

Your lips pursed in thought. First off, you’ll need to go out and gather something for him as a present. That would require possibly sneaking past him and heading into town. With the weather getting worse during this months, venturing out would be dangerous. Especially for a human like you without your protector of a Yautja. The preparation and whatnot would take you some time to plan.

Since the winter was only about one-third over, there was plenty of time to work. “Okay, let’s do it in three weeks,” you offered.

Yes, the weeks are a day shorter, but the days are longer. They weren’t the same back on home but relatively close enough that it could work.

“Alright, three weeks from today shall be our ‘Christmas’,” Woftik agreed.

Another idea came to mind. “Oh! And I want to other things too. Like, wearing matching PJs and hot cocoa.” Your face was spilt wide with a grinning smile that would take a god’s force to remove. Not that Woftik would even dare to. Knowing that showing your teeth for oomans was a sign of happiness now, he would kill to see you like this all the time. His mate deserved to be ecstatic.

The thought of what would come from this new chapter in his life had him sighing on the outside. His normal, grumpy looking self on display. What had he gotten himself into now?

“You won’t regret it. I promise, Wof!” you reassured the male. Your soft, supple hands cupped his scaly outer jaw. Instantly, Woftik melted into this new hold on him, eyes hooding over. Despite his mind slowing, he was planning out how to execute this new holiday with you.

Hot cocoa? He’ll have to look it up but it must be a sweet drink. This far north from the warmth of the sun, little to planet life grew. This would require him to go into the bustling city towards the equator to get what you wanted. Maybe he would take you with him. Carefully. Not all clans are accepting of oomans. Almost all still saw them for the weak species they are, some of those just leave them alone as whole. A small amount go out of their way to kill any that stray away from the protection of either mate or clan. Woftik would have to keep you close and practically on a leash to ensure you don’t fall victim to those said clans.

This would be good though. Woftik does spend plenty of time with you but mostly here, in his private dwelling, protected and safe. The male would never think about taking you out for a hunt, risking unnecessary injury when he could easily provide for the two of you. To take you from here, into the heart of Yautja Prime… he saw it as a good thing. Exploration, change.

Internally, he nodded. Woftik would plan this as a day trip and use his ship to head to the equator to find the necessary items.

“I do have a plan, little ooman.” You tilted your head in silent question. “I shall take you with me to Eourov. From there, I will gather supplies for this ‘Christmas’ and we can celebrate together.”

Your eyes widened. Woftik has spoken some about the biggest city on Yautja Prime: Eourov. The fact he was willing to take you from his clan’s territory was surprising. But to the largest city?

As human, the natural feeling of fear crawled up your back like the legs of a spider. But you pushed that down and looked at him fearlessly. “When do we leave?” You brought forth the courage and excitement of exploring a new plan to your heart. Not only were you having Christmas with the person you loved, but he was taking you to somewhere new!

“I will have to bring up Totolak up to speed about this.” Totolak was Woftik’s second in command. “This will be a day trip but we will return at the end of the day cycle back here. So, he will need to cover for the day while I’m gone with you. We shall plan for two days.” Those dark brown, on the verge of black, eyes pierced through yours.

“Alrighty! I can’t wait,” you squealed and rewrapped your around him. This time, ensnaring his neck tightly. Woftik gently returned the act with just one arm around your torso. His free hand resting on your hip, his thumb mindlessly rubbing over your comfortable t-shirt.

“Is my mate happy?” he questioned. The first thought to come to mind was how ridiculous of a question that was!

“Of course I am! I get to spend more time with you. My favorite thing is to spend time with you. Even if it’s just lounging around with nothing to do,” you stated firmly towards the end. You prayed he wasn’t having doubts about your feelings towards him. You simply brushed off that stupid idea and kept grinning up at him.

The off-white Yautja saw devotion shining back in those pools of emotions. His heart squeezed at the sight. The hand on your hip scaled up your body to cup your jaw and tilted your head up, exposing your throat to him. An action only mates and deeply trusted ones would offer to one another. His pink tongue flickered out for a fleeting moment. “But you must stay close to me. At all times. You have to be glued at my side the whole time we are out,” Woftik demanded, voice growing lower to show his seriousness.

His hand tightened on your jaw. You took his words straight to your heart. Woftik wants to protect you from all harm as his mate. “I will,” you promised Woftik, only knowing the hint of dangers he spoke in fleeting talks before. All you knew was some Yautja hated your species and won’t hesitate to kill you. Thankfully, you have your heart placed in Woftik’s hands. He would keep you safe from danger.

Woftik purred and rubbed his brow once more to your temple. “Tomorrow, I will alert Totolak to our adventure. For now, I shall enjoy my time with my mate.”

The thick arm wrapped around your torso tightened. You were promptly lifted off of the couch and tossed onto the shoulder of Woftik. Said Yautja kept his limb secure around you and began his march to your shared room.

Your laugh echoed off of the walls of your home. “Woftik!” you tried to scold him through the laughter bubbling in your chest but was unsuccessful.

You soon found yourself trapped underneath Woftik’s lumbering frame as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Both of his arms were locked around you. No chance of escape, not that you want ed to in the first place. This is where you belonged. Forever.

[yeyinde]

okay wait now we need a second version where the reader does leave with ghost and he walks her home and he's all shitty about the drunk flirting and she's like "bruh it was just flirting, if you would make a move i wouldn't need to make you jealous" 😌

ask and you shall (eventually) receive~ 🖤

i hope you enjoy this!!

"What? He's been keekin' you all night." There is a divot between his brow. When he turns his head, the fairy lights behind make his stubble look darker. "Yer aff yer heid!" Soap’s Version

It's all words. 

Thin, hollow: they're empty ones bereft of meaning. They roll over you—a gale rocking you from side to side until you're dizzy with that awful little thing that clings to your pericardium, refusing to relent.

Hope. 

Yearning (in English this time, if only just for him).

It clots there, taking root until you're a little queasy. A little unwell. The alcohol, perhaps, or—

He sits by Laswell, head angled down to murmur low in her ear about things that shouldn't matter right now when everyone is alive, and safe, and back together. But of course they do. They always do. 

You wonder if they ever rest. If they ever take a moment's reprieve from the endless death and carnage that bulldozes your life until it's in shambles. Until the only thing that remains is broken chunks that reek of smoke and petrol. 

It feels impossible. 

He hasn't looked up once, despite whatever nonsense Soap might be on about. Untouchable. A chasm. 

Ghost is a shoreless island in the distance. Rocky and steep. 

Sometimes, if you stand on the furthest point of the beach, you can almost see the land peeking out from under the sea. Hazy. Shrouded. It sits amid the crashing waves, out of reach from everyone. 

Soap pulls you back in, a few clipped words shared back and forth, and everything else melts away. This is easy. 

This, being: drunk on expensive scotch (thank you, Captain Price; and oh no, thank you, I don't don't want a cigar) as you share snapped banter in a small pub. Vacant, of course, save for the six of you, and the barkeep. A man who offers little more than a nod at you when you mutter about the washroom, and swats at Price when he comes for peanuts and pretzels. 

It's easy to pretend, you think, that the honeycomb eyes, a bashful grin, and hands that feel like the sun are what you want. 

Easy, and yet—

You wonder if he's had anything to drink. 

(You wonder if he'd keep his gloves on while he held you—)

You snap something at Soap, something you hope is witty and charming, and maybe if you play your cards right, you won't end up alone in a foreign land tonight. That, maybe, he'll let you close your eyes, and pretend—

It's ground out, raked through coals. "Soldier."

He makes you dizzy. Makes you want, yearn, makes you—

It falls into nothing, until your head is full of him: blood hell, Christ—

Never said I wasn't. 

It feels like more of a reprimand than anything else he'd tossed your way thus far. A warning, maybe. Don't get too close. You know what you're in for. 

Don't make him into the fairytale he isn't.

"And you, soldier?"

You're drunk. Too drunk. Head gummy and full of sin. 

"Should leave," you say, casting a glance toward the mosaic window. A cross hangs in the distance. An augury. "Maybe go to church." 

"Aye, lass. Think someone ought to get you home. Lt?"

You pull the last swallows in your cup before Soap has the chance to take it away from you. Liquid courage, you think, wilting under a black stare. A looming, uncharted island in the distance. 

"C'mon," he says, words a shade away from being a command. "Haven't got all night." 

You don't point out that it's nearly three in the morning—devil's hour in the company of a ghost—and wisely hold your tongue when Soap leans down, whispering: you can spend the night with me, hen.

"We're leaving." A growl, now.

It jars you. His voice is unlike anything else you've ever heard: gravel and ash; gunfire booming in the distance. It sits low, like the words are dragged up from the depths of his chest, and sounds like smouldering embers. 

Your hands shake around the glass. It knocks against the wooden counter when you set it down, a hair too hard. You're crumbling. Slipping into waters that have no bottom. Rough, frothing. The white foam clogs your throat, drenches in you until you're weighed down, and sinking fast. 

In over your head. No way out. The island is too far away.

His eyes are sharper than you've ever seen them. A yawning abyss. You wonder if something would snap at the tips of your fingers if you got too close. 

Soap brows sit arched on his forehead, mouth thinning into a small line. "Alright, bonnie?"

"Gonna go home," you smile, tired. Wobbly. "Gotta get some sleep. Maybe next time, though." 

Ghost's stare has never felt so heavy. 

You stumble out of the pub behind him, pointedly ignoring the glance Gaz sends in your direction—the phone in your pocket already buzzing with texts that will make you whimper in the morning (saw you with Lt, mate. What the fuck? I mean what the bloody fuck?). This is normal, you think. Everyday. Mundane. Saturated in the ordinary. 

Except—

Sometimes, your life doesn't make any sense. How you can go from coldly planning a man's—mens—murder to walking down the wet streets of Glasgow, head full of your Lieutenant.

The church peaks in the distance. The light spills, bathes it in yellow. The tolling bells call you an idiot. 

Your head drops, eyes skirting toward the indomitable man beside you. Idiot, indeed. You can't help yourself, though. He's a magnet. A beacon. 

A current sweeping you out to sea. 

He says nothing. Hands tucked into the pockets of his black jacket, hood pulled down low. Those haunting eyes roam the corners, surveying the alcoves: always ready, always on-guard. 

It's a stifling thing, this silence. Oppressive. Crushing. 

Your throat itches with the urge to shatter it, to break it down until there is nothing left of it. Where it can't echo inside your chest like the brutal burn of rejection, and doesn't make your mind reel, an endless spiral of why and how and—

What can you do differently to make it a reality? 

No man is untouchable. Not really. There had to be others in his life. A man like Ghost—

It's just impossible, isn't it?

Does he go to a brothel when the urge wells? A pub? Does he have dalliances with other agents he'd met in the field? Ones with battle scars, the taste of gunfire on their breath, and firm hands on their rifle? Is there someone already waiting at home for him, tucked inside a place no one else can reach them? The only inhabitant on an island in the middle of the sea.

What is his type?

And how can it be you?

Queries. Questions. They burn through you. 

What if you just went for it? Is that what he likes? Someone who looks him in the eye, and says take me, I'm yours. 

You open your mouth to ask, but are stopped in your tracks by the stare fixed on you. Breath caught in your throat. Lungs bereft of air. You splinter. 

"S—sir…?"

"What?" It's harsh when it's ground out of his teeth. A snap. 

"Are you angry?"

His eyes slide down to you, lidded and heavy. "Negative." 

You huff. "Lying to me, now?" 

"I've been called many things, Rookie, but a liar isn't one of them."

The grit in his voice makes you tremble. Makes a heat spume inside of you, not unlike the scotch from earlier. 

Or—

Maybe it is the scotch. Your head is a slurry; a mess. The world around is shrouded in a sheen, a gloss, that makes the lights smear, and the cobblestone below quake under your feet. 

"Are you—" jealous feels too strange in conjunction with Ghost. To the man who, as close as he is beside you, has never felt further away. Stupid Soap and his stupid words. 

"Am I what?"

You mull it over. Let the word sit between your incisors to gauge the fit of it. It doesn't quite fit when you roll it around. Doesn't belong together.

(Like him, you.)

You stifle it.

He makes a noise, impatience, perhaps, and the word leaks into their terse air between you before you snap your jowls shut. 

"Jealous?"

His eyes slide to you again. The whites glow under the street lamps. "Jealous?" 

You feel a little silly. A little stupid. You blame it on the scotch. On Soap, and his keekin' you—

But—

You feel the words pool on your tongue, but you can't stop them from trembling out. 

"I could have went home with Soap—"

"Why didn't you?" 

It stings. The rejection hurts something fierce, but it's swallowed down. 

(In for a penny…)

"You pulled me away. I could have been fucking him right now, and instead I'm wandering around Glasgow—"

Tonight feels as good as any to get your heart wrecked. Loose lips sink ships, after all. 

"You might be fucking him, pet," his voice is a snarl, a feathered growl. "But you'd be thinking of me."

It punches into you, and makes you gasp, aloud; the sound echoing over the wet brick surrounding you. Your feet stutter when it's ground out, left to rot in the air. You jerk your head up to look at him, eyes wide. Heart-hammering in your chest. 

He stops, too, hands now hanging by his sides, curled into loose fists. His chin is tipped down, liquid eyes boring into you. 

You—

You've never seen a sight more damning. One more ready-made for ruin. 

He makes you feel a low grade fever burning in your veins. Stupid, intoxicated. 

You don't know where to go from here. Thinking of me. He's right. Of course, he is. It feels like a fractured mess when it tugs on the corner of your lip, a slowly unease smile. Distance, you think. You're an island far away from hurt. 

Rejection. The brutality of his words—they can't reach your shores. 

"And you'd be at home, getting thought of but not fucked." It's shakier than you'd wanted it to be, words a slow tremble. Then, a whisper: "You wouldn't even know."

"I would." He takes a step, another. His stare never wavers. "Just like I knew the first time you touched your little cunt to the thought of me. Couldn't look me in the eye for a week, pet."

"That's—"

It's true. You remember the time—all of them—and the realisation that he knows (he knows, he knows, he knows) burns into you. A knot of discomfort pools in your core. 

There is embarrassment, of course there is. Shame, too. 

But you're too drunk, too blootered, to think straight. Too raw, and cracked. You're a vanishing island. Water lapping at your inlands. 

More hollow, thin words: "why did you take me out?" 

"I gave you the option," he corrects, his voice is flat. It carries at the end, and leaves no room for any argument or protests. 

It's true, after all. 

You drop your chin, hands shaking. It's a bludgeon to your gut. 

(How can it be you—?)

Stupid. 

The false bravado quivers under his stare. A step backward flattens your spine to the wall of some long-closed Tandoori shop. The bricks are still wet from the rainshower that fell earlier. The cold dampness bleeds into your flesh. Goosebumps prickle. 

More liquid courage, you think, hands balling into quivering fists by your side. 

You lift your head. In for a penny, right? 

No island is truly unreachable. No man, either. 

All of this— something —with Ghost is drawn together into this single moment. The distance. The uneasy feeling on the nape of your neck when he's behind you. The want. He's been keekin' you all night. You look over and catch his stare. Feel it on your skin like a brand. 

(Ready-made, always.)

It all has to mean something. It has to. 

"Is that why you stare at me?" 

His eyes are embers. The glow from the streetlights make him look like smouldering ash. Demonic. It thrills you. 

"No, pet." 

He leans in close, his body a shadow over yours. A tower. You can't see anything except the fill of him spreading out around you. Black. Endlessly so. Your perpetual night. The embers spark, blazing, when he bores into you. A wildfire in the distance. Atavistic fear brims. 

Stay away from the fire and the being that can hurt.

His hand presses into the concrete beside your head. There is nowhere to run. 

"I stare at you because I keep thinkin' about those little fingers trying to fuck yourself silly, and how desperate you must be knowin' it isn't enough." 

You shiver—a whole body chill that has your teeth chattering together at the punctured words that drip, tainted with your demise, from his mouth.

The air in your lungs is noxious. It spumes inside until your knees quake, threatening to drop down into that unfathomable abyss that gapes below. The yawning maw of a man who wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you until nothing remains. Rucked into the currents, it sends you careening out to sea until your fingers cling to the side of that untouchable island, begging for respite. Salvation.

It's a plea, a whimper: "you should have asked to take me home."

He offers none of it. His hand stretches out, and in the cup of his palm, he promises only ruin.

You shouldn't take it. Don't make him out to be the fairytale he isn't.

But the look he levels you with, ravenous hunger tucked inside the tenebrose of those spiralling depths, has you reaching out. A moth to a flame. The roar of the Styx in your head. You can't resist.

(You wouldn't even try.)

"I already am."

—Gaz regrets sending the text when he wakes up the next morning to a detailed commentary on all the ways his Lt absolutely ruined you

— he refuses to look either of you in the eye for weeks after

—this is completely irrelevant and feel free to roast me for it, but! my hc of a jealous!Ghost depends on where he's at in the relationship

—in the beginning: he doesn't trust, he does his job, and he's distant; but if he feels it, he'll close down. total distance. silence. he's mean about it, too. waspish. he'll try to push you away. cold hearted bastard to a T.

—but later?? oh, boy. that's when the Looming™️ starts. the, oh hey lemme go talk to that cutie over there - oh, wait. what the fuck that is that thing behind them and why does it look like it wants to eat me alive?! he's still mean, of course, but now he has a reason to snap. a reason to stand as close you as physically possible so everyone knows just who you belong to. and if he catches you flirting, i mean. rip, b. 🥹

[thatsdemko]

this love - l.norris

masterlist

t-swift inspired works

requested: n

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of anxious thoughts/worries + fear of commitment + mentions of kissing(if this is even a warning idk)

a/n: inspired by the song this love by Taylor swift. feedback is always appreciated xx my requests are temporarily back open!

This love left a permanent mark

This love is glowing in the dark

the fear of falling in love is more common than you think. you so want the man in front of you, with his crystal blue-green eyes, thick lashes, and beautiful smile what was there that couldn’t make you fall in love? he’s the same man who has shown you time and time again, he’s not going anywhere. the man who gives you unconditional love and never washes away.

he’s like a home, a place for shelter and safety. he promises to always hold you in the dark, and love you during the thunderstorms. this love feels good, but why are you scared?

all you’ve ever known are the ones who get close and then run away. the ones who go with the tide and drift further out to sea. he’s as permanent as sand, always there and never washes away.

you’ve tried to leave him, tried to push him away, but he’s persistent. he hates that you feel the way you do, that you’ve been conditioned to pull away when things get too good. this love is good.

he’s tangled in your limbs, any part of his skin that he can get is touching yours. if he can’t give you love, he’ll show you it by wanting to be with you. his head is rested against your shirt’s being used as pillows, he watches you try to fight and untangle yourself, but ultimately fail. your heart wants this. this love is good.

“you can fall in love with me, you know?” he’s said time and time again. he says it in the most random and obscure places he feels the need to remind you. you could be playing videos, swimming, drinking beer, at dinner, etc. he’ll remind you that he’s not going anywhere. this love is good.

he sees the worry, the want to trust but you’re unsure. he doesn’t know how else to convince you he’s got all good intentions. he wakes up every morning cooks breakfast for you, makes coffee just the way you like it, holds you when you’re down, kisses you to make you smile. it’s good, nothing could ever be bad about this love. this love is good.

“what’s the worst that could happen?” he whispers in your ear, chills run down your warm spine, your body shivers despite the humid air surrounding you.

“you could leave.” you reply, moving your head to the side to look at him. those beautiful crystal green-blue eyes are practically transparent in this sun. his skin is turning tan and pink all over his bare chest, you so badly want to run your fingers over his burns, remind him to wear sunscreen.

his hand brushes against your sandy cheek trying to wipe the grains, “I’d never do that.” he wants to kiss you right now, he wants you to feel his passion and his love. he’s said those three little words, he doesn’t mind waiting to hear you say them back. this love is good.

“that’s what they all say.” you want to cry, why was he so patient? so nurturing? out of all the boys you’ve loved before, why was this one so different? you swore off men until him. until he bulldozed in and changed just about everything.

“two years.” he says, you watch him untangle himself from you flipping onto his stomach, “two years and you think I’m leaving? let go of your fears for one second.”

you move closer to him, skin touching his damp swim trunks, “okay.” you whisper, head dipping in, and he gets the hint. he’s moving closer, lips just brushing yours like they always do, but you’re determined to feel it this time. your lips softly press deeper against his, he’s shocked, you can feel him want to pull away but he doesn’t. he presses back, his lips fit like a lock in a key, and the door opens. his lips taste like sweet chapstick, there’s a passion to them that you can’t help but melt into. you can’t fight it any longer, that switch flicks and there’s no going back. this love is good.

“not so bad?” he breathes out, gravity is pulling him towards you, but you’re pulling away rolling onto your back, allowing the rays to burn your chest that’s already full of warmth from him. all you do is nod and for once when he looks over those eyes aren’t full of worry, they have something else in them. something he’s been waiting to see.

you turn your head in his direction, lips about make the three words he’s been wanting to hear, but he cuts you off, “I can wait. don’t say it when you’re not ready.” his finger tips reach for yours, palm squeezing your hand in assurance.

“I am ready, lando.” you sit up, brushing the sand that’s collected against your back, his eyes watch you for a moment unsure he’s ready to hear you say it. he’s never waited this long, but with you? it’s been worth the wait.

“I love you.” a smile creeps on your face, it’s so bright he’s never seen anything like it. he mocks your smile with one of his own, you dip your head down once more pressing a kiss to his lips, “you remind me I deserve you every day, I never want you to leave.”

“good, because I never will.”

In silent screams

In wildest dreams

I never dreamed of this

This love is good