#like no time to rest not time to process she was taking milk of the poppy ‘ to blunt the edge of it ‘

[starlight727]

A little gift (part 3, the final part, I promise lol)

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Author's note: Had planned to leave this part for part 2, but decided to make a separate part for it, so here we go, final act, let's do this!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (you are here)

"As saddening as it can be, we've reached the last round! And since it's the last question, you get twice the amount of points!" announced Shadow Milk with a sad tone in his voice, but at the same time he sounded excited for what was coming next. He pointed out this last question was for White Lily, you looked over your shoulder to see her pale face and eyes widened, she tried to steel herself, but what came next shocked her to her core.

"You sure seem proud of your new title of 'the Guardian of the Seal...' ...let's see how great you really are...!" and with that, Shadow Milk summoned lots of strings that held you and your friends up in the hair by the wrists and ankles, it scared you all, it was a painful feeling how tight the strings were.

But suddenly, you felt the strings let go of your limbs and you fell on a solid platform, it was a cardboard star! You were then carefully taken to the one place you never expected to be: Shadow Milk's hand. You were frozen in fear, trying your best to hide your trembling self. Your eyes were wide open, taking in every single detail in the giant entertainer's form, his attire, his strange hair (or hat, what even was all of that??), his face... his wonderful face and its... majestic features... oh my Witches, you were falling in love with him HARD, like a shooting star crashing on Earthbread (that doesn't make sense but you get the idea). You got up on your feet, but your shaking knees were not helping you keep your balance. You tried walking up to him, but you tripped over your own foot (like a clumsy main character, you hated it), but to your surprise, he caught you just in time! Your gaze softened at the surprisingly generous act, you were staring at him, at his gorgeous sky blue eyes, for so long, you got lost in them, you didn't notice you were so deep in there until Shadow Milk started talking to you with a voice so soft it could be softer than silk.

"Hello there, Y/N Cookie!" he began with a light chuckle, something that snapped you out of your trance and made you blush like mad.

"Hehe, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, my little star. You'll stay right here, close to me, so I can keep my eyes on you~." he said as he moved you to the top of the Silver Tree, where the night sky was covered with thousands of blue eyes peering into your soul. It took you a couple of minutes to register what just happened, you needed to lie down after that, you felt like you were about to pass out and you didn't wanna fall off the platform you were standing on, so you rested on it while everything else was happening.

While you were asleep, a lot of important events were happening: Shadow Milk Cookie was holding your friends hostage (Wizard’s string restraints were tighter than everyone else’s), White Lily Cookie was about to make the ultimate decision between saving everyone or defeating Shadow Milk, all while he was making sure you didn’t get caught in the crossfire because the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt by his hands, especially hers. So everything was going great for him so far, he was going to kill your friends, rule Earthbread and have you be his favorite doll forever… until… something unexpected happened. White Lily used her Guardian powers not to attack Shadow Milk, but to seal the crack in the Tree, thus ruining his plans (also making shrink in size) and saving everyone in the process. You were slowly waking up after the blast healed the Tree, all those loud noises and bright lights were too much, you had to see what was going on.

“You... YOU...!!!! I gave you only two choices...!!!” his loud complaints woke you up more and more, you quickly got up from the platform and stretched. But suddenly, it started shaking and slowly falling, you tried your best to stay calm and steady, but you were at the top of the Tree so it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. It wasn’t long before the cardboard star you were standing on disappeared completely and you were plummeting to the ground, screaming for help.

“…!!!” Shadow Milk gasped at the sight of you falling, so he extended his hand towards you and a bunch of gooey black tentacles rose from the ground to grab you, bringing you close to him.

“There you go, my darling! Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now, would we~?” he said as he caressed your face, you blushed a darker tone at the gesture, you weren’t expecting to be this close to him like this, this was simply too much!

“Y/N Cookie! Hold on!” exclaimed White Lily, sending large green vines to your location, grabbing you and pulling you away from Shadow Milk.

“NO!!! You're NOT taking my star away from ME!!!!” he shouted as he sent more tentacles to grab you and pull you away from her, both cookies were now pulling you in opposite directions. It hurt you a lot, you were cracking from the tight grips the vines and tentacles had on you. You were visibly uncomfortable and groaning loudly, both cookies were now fighting for your safety and survival.

“How dare you ruin... This moment I've been waiting for for so long...” his tentacles’ grip on you was weakening, White Lily vines’ kept pulling away from him, their grips were so tight you were losing air, you couldn’t breathe properly anymore.

“Eugh... Agh...” you didn’t like hearing him groan in pain, his tentacles were getting weaker and weaker. White Lily took his moment of weakness to her advantage and used her vines to pull harder, successfully bringing you closer to her.

“WHOA!!” you exclaimed as you were pulled away from Shadow Milk’s grasp.

“ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

…

……everything went silent, everything turned white…

………….

You were unconscious for a long time.

“…….Y-……” someone was calling out to you.

“…Y/N…………..” you were slowly opening your eyes.

“……Y/N Cookie…!” your eyes shot wide open, you were breathing heavy, you tried to get up but the pain in your waist hit you like a bullet. Pure Vanilla and White Lily were holding you steady, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself more.

“It’s alright, Y/N Cookie! You’re safe.” said Pure Vanilla as he was healing your wounds.

“Aughh, hmm? Pure Vanilla Cookie…? White Lily Cookie…?”

“Oh Y/N Cookie, I’m so sorry for the damage I caused, if there’s anything I could do to make it up to you…” said White Lily, gently placing her hand on your forehead while looking away from your damaged self.

“No no, it’s ok. You did it to save me, thank you…”

White Lily smiled softly at you, Pure Vanilla smiled at her, he was so grateful that she was able to save you. A few moments later, Gingerbrave and friends, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell came to see you.

“Y/N Cookie, you’re ok!” exclaimed Gingerbrave.

“Oh thank the Witches you’re alright!” said Strawberry.

“Finally, it’s all over for that Beast. Thank you so much, White Lily Cookie.” added Wizard.

“Hehe, hey guys.” you whispered as you tried to get up, your voice was weak from the screaming, and you couldn’t maintain your balance from your broken waist. Luckily, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell were there to catch you.

“Careful Y/N Cookie, do not overexert yourself.” said Mercurial Knight.

“Don’t worry Y/N Cookie, we’ll help you get better, we’ll take you back to the kingdom so you can rest!” said Silverbell while smiling at you.

“Thanks, you two, I appreciate it.”

As you all returned to the Faerie kingdom, you all noticed how everything was going back to normal, all the magic from Shadow Milk’s realm was receding. Oh man… he was gone… oh… why were you feeling sad? This was supposed to be a good thing, right? …right? You weren’t sure how to feel about this, until you heard his voice again.

“You think you won, don't you?!”

“HUH?! How are you still talking?!” exclaimed Wizard, you wanted to know how he was talking too!

“You may be celebrating your little victory for now... ... But heed my words! We have finally risen. Do not think that you can hold us back. Foolish Cookies...! You simply have no idea what's waiting for you...! HA HA HA HA HA!”

…

…….

……….

It had been a while since Shadow Milk warned you all about the upcoming danger that was headed your way. You were feeling better about your injuries, Pure Vanilla managed to heal you and the Faerie Cookies patched you up. Everyone was celebrating White Lily's triumph over Shadow Milk's evil ways by having a feast to honor her and the late Elder Faerie. None of this made you feel better emotionally though, you felt conflicted whether you should be happy for everyone winning against Shadow Milk... or sad over his forced departure. You needed some time alone to think, so you excused yourself to go check on the Silver Tree, Mercurial Knight suggested against this because you were still healing from your wounds. You told him you'd be ok on your own, you trusted White Lily's magic would protect you from harm, so he let you go. You made your way towards the Tree, where you rested your head against it and imagined yourself with Shadow Milk again.

"Hey, Shadow Milk Cookie? ...I thought your show was great. I thought... I think... you're great! You're amazing, and funny, and extremely handsome, heh." you started quietly, hoping he could hear you from inside the Tree.

"I wish... I wish I could... see you again..." you whispered as you placed your hands on the Tree, giving it a little kiss, maybe he could feel you from the other side...

...

......

..........

"You're an interesting little cookie, aren't you~?" he spoke to you in your head, so no one else could hear you. You were startled by his response, you didn't think he'd actually say something! You took a few steps back from the Tree, you were hoping nobody saw you doing all of this.

"What the?? How are you talking to me?"

"I'm in your head, silly! Heheheheh!"

"Oh, right. That's not concerning at all."

"Hehe! Y'know, out of all the Cookies I've tormented today, I didn't expect you to resist. In fact, it almost looked like you were truly... interested in me! Why is that?"

You didn't think he'd ask you about your behavior towards him, so with no other way of answering (cause you knew he could see through your lies), you told him the truth.

"O-Oh, w-well, I just... I just thought... that... you were the most intriguing Cookie I've ever met, and I've met a lot of Cookies on my many adventures, but none of them had the same effect on me like you have."

"And what might that be?"

"...Your charms, your witty banter, the fact that you made me laugh several times during your show... and... the way you treated me was so... gentle and caring... not to mention bold... I honestly didn't expect that coming from the Beast of Deceit himself."

Your answer filled Shadow Milk's ego... and his heart. He felt himself blushing and genuinely smiling from the honest opinion you had about him, he wanted to jump out of the Tree to give you a big hug and never let go, he wanted to smooch you until you were breathless, leaving marks on you to let everyone know that you were his and only his.

"...Well aren't you such a cute little cookie~? As a token of my appreciation, here's a little something that you may have lost during my show." you tilted your head in confusion, what was he talking about? Suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard something fall behind you. You quickly turned around and gasped at what you saw. It was your hat! The one that puppet gifted you! Oh, you were so happy to see that hat again, you took a quick sniff and... yep, the same blueberry milk scent from before.

"...Thank you!" you held the hat close to you before you put it on, still fits.

"You're welcome, doll! Just make sure you don't lose it again... or let your small wizard friend see you with it... hats like that one don't just grow on trees, y'know. And... if you ever come back here... I'd love for you to give me more of those sweet and tender kisses of yours, maybe I could return the favor~."

What the?! How does he know about...?? Wait, he knows, but you never actually kissed him... did you? In a split second, your mind travelled back to the memory of you... giving the puppet a kiss... oh my Witches...

"I- uh-... uhhh...b-but... w-wait what?!" is all that came out of your mouth. You couldn't believe it: The puppet, that was him in disguise! You kissed Shadow Milk Cookie (on the forehead, but still)! Shadow Milk laughed heartily at your stuttering self, blushing while doing so.

"Hahahaha! Oh, you look so adorable when you're confused~!" he teased with a devious grin that you couldn't see. You were feeling very dizzy from all your rushing thoughts and rapidly beating heart, you had to sit down for a little while, luckily the wind was there to cool off your head.

"Hehe, you're full of surprises, Shadow Milk Cookie. And sure, if I ever come back here... then maybe... I could give you a surprise of my own~." you said while taking your hat from your head and giving it a long kiss while looking at the Tree, knowing that he could somehow still see you. Your words and your actions made him gasp loudly and jump with excitement, his face turning dark blue while he floated giddily, giggling, squealing, flapping his hands and kicking his feet in the air like a high school girl who got asked out on a date by the hottest guy in school. You heard him making all those noises, which made a light blush grow on your cheeks, then you chuckled while covering your mouth with one hand. But alas, it was time to go, you knew this because you heard your friends calling you in the distance.

"Y/N Cookie, come on! We gotta go!" shouted Gingerbrave.

"Pure Vanilla and White Lily are calling us!" said Strawberry as loudly as she could.

"Let's go Y/N Cookie, we don't wanna keep them waiting, do we?" added Wizard.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming!" you answered back, hiding the tone of annoyance in your cheerful response. You really weren't looking forward to leaving, especially since you had a good thing going on with him.

"Well, I have to go now. It was nice talking to you again." you told him sadly with a small frown on your face.

"..."

"...Shadow Milk Cookie?"

"Oh, yeah, my apologies heh, I was just... thinking" he said sternly, staring at your friends, and Pure Vanilla's his Soul Jam.

"Hm, about what exactly?" you said teasingly with a smirk. This made him snap out of his thoughts and smile.

"About how much I'm going to miss you, my shining star~! Hehehehe!" he chuckled lightly. You were blushing a lot, he called you his shining star! Witches, you wanted to jump and squeal, but you couldn't show it because your friends were watching you.

"Uh-... w-well uhm, hehe, I'm gonna miss you too...!" you said while breathing heavily, he's been flirting with you so many times, it was time you did something about it before you left, so you did the next best thing.

"Goodbye, my dazzling jester~!" you finished your statement with a wink and a bow, then quickly turned around and ran to your friends with the biggest grin on your face. You had to hide it from your friends so they don't ask you about what you were doing by the Tree, you also hid your hat somewhere in your clothing only you knew about. As you approached your friends, you all waved goodbye to the Faerie Cookies.

If only you could see the look on his face, he was flabbergasted from your bold move, his face was a whole blueberry, melting in place, drunken smile and everything, sighing dreamily over your eventual return.

"Hey Y/N Cookie, what are you smiling about? Did something good happen?" asked Strawberry curiously.

"Oh it's nothing, just remembered something funny." you said as you cleared your throat, trying to wipe away the smile of your face as best as you could. As you all left the Faerie Kingdom, you took a glance at Pure Vanilla's Soul Jam and you heard him speak to you one last time.

"Farewell, Y/N Cookie of the Cookie Kingdom, I'll see you soon." he said softly, his last message to you, if you could, you'd invite him into your kingdom. You remembered how he mentioned that Dark Enchantress would give him and his comrades new cookie bodies so they could unlock their full potential again. Maybe when he finally gets his new body, you could give him some proper affection. Back home, you stare at your hat as you wait patiently for the day when you eventually reunite with him, when you give him those kisses you promised him... when he returns the favor in the most dramatic and romantic way possible, it would be expected from a Cookie like him, you'd still welcome him and his show of affection with open arms.

When you two meet again.

The end.

[halfyearsqueen]

visenya’s stillbirth genuinely is so devastating to think about because the implications of it are ?

[buckyalpine]

Soft subby reader jealous stroking bucky

CEO Bucky x Jealous Secretary reader - slutty thot - making dom Bucky a needy slut for you.

Imagine being the soft, quiet little secretary of the very handsome James Barnes. What started off as a professional relationship quickly turned into something else once the sun had set and everyone left the office. No one know about the way he love the toy with your body to his liking, about how well you responded to him once the doors were locked.

James Barnes who had to stuff his tie in your mouth to keep your moans quiet, shoving his fingers deep down your throat while he railed you with his cock. His warm tongue would lick up your tears while you milked him dry with your needy, tight cunt. No one would ever guess such a shy little quiet thing would be a cockdrunk bunny on the inside, practically humping yourself on his thigh once his meetings were over, drooling and nursing off his cock under his desk when he was on calls.

****

You took another long sip from your drink, watching a red head trace a long, sharp manicured nail up Bucky's chest, giving him a flirty smile which he smirked back to. She was a prospective investor, one of the few people on the VIP list in attendance for the yearly company gala. Bucky threw her a charming laugh, clinking his glass with hers to something she said, the red head now resting her hand higher, stroking the expensive fabric of his suit.

This was the James Barnes who would pick you up from your desk and throw you over his shoulder when things didn't go his way, fucking his frustrations out with his hand slapped over your mouth, jaw clenched with his heavy balls slapping your clit with each thrust. James Barnes who would fill you up with so much cum, it would drip and make a mess on your skirt, making it impossible to stand up once he plopped you back onto your chair. James Barnes who loves what a secret little slut his secretary is. Such a quiet, sweet kitten who was too innocent for her own good.

The very James Barnes everyone wants and he damn well knows it.

And loves it.

So here he was, biting his lip and cocking his brow suggestively while the woman stood tall with poise, leaning over to whisper in his ear, making your cheeks grow hotter with each passing minute. You weren't aware making business deals with new partners involved wanting to eye fuck them in the process.

You downed another glass of bitter liquid, no longer able to ignore the surges of jealously that pulsed through you. You had no business being jealous or possessive but you couldn't help it, seeing him pull the same charm he used with you, even if the context was different. You missed the way his eyes glanced over to you each time you looked away; he grinned on the inside with the soft flare of your nostrils and the clench of your jaw.

The last straw for you was when he whispered something in her ear, her eyes growing wide in response, a crimson flush covering her face.

"Sir" You strode over, rolling your shoulders back, ignoring the woman, only keeping your eyes on him, "There's a call for you in the office, its urgent"

It was clearly a lie, he knew it, as did you but you didn't care. Bucky smirked at you, cocking his head to the side curiously while you continued to stare at him, waiting for him to follow you. The woman coughed, hoping to break the tension between you both, unamused at the way Bucky's attention was completely on you.

"Aren't you the secretary, shouldn't you cover the calls-

You didn't bother letting her finish, slipping your hand into Bucky's and pulling him away towards the large elevators, the brunette letting you take him wherever you so well pleased, curious about what you'd do. You were just a soft little bunny.

"What is it kitten" Bucky smirked at the scowl that tugged your lips.

"I didn't know your business ventures required flirting with new partners" you kept your voice steady, fighting against the alcohol that was coursing through your body.

"Are you jealous" he smirked, letting you drag him away from the crowd, shoving him into the elevator.

"What's there to be jealous of" you shot back, the fire in your belly growing stronger the more he taunted you. Bucky's cock grew harder and the change of your demeanor, your possessiveness making his tip weep.

"No need to be angry bunny, look at you acting so needy" Bucky tsked while the elevator doors opened to the top floor. The grip you had on his hand tightened as you both went into his large office which overlooked New York. You clicked, while he leaned against the doors with a cocky smile, arms crossed against his chest. His cockiness took a hit when you glanced down at the way his length strained against the fabric of his pants, just as needy as you were, if not more.

"You were acting like a whore, sir" You shrugged while letting your finger trace over the outline of his erection, pressing where the tip leaked through his slacks.

"Don't tease m-

"Please" You caught him off guard, grabbing his tie and tightening it around his neck just enough to make his breaths heavier, "Now tell me what you want"

"Play with my cock" Bucky swallowed thickly, his control slipping when you unbuckled his pants, his cock springing free, begging to be touched. You took a step back, humming at the sight of him; not a single wrinkle on his pristine suit, not a hair out of place, his beard trimmed, lustful eyes boring back at you. He looked so pretty with his cock out, waiting for you to do something, his dominant side faltering in confusion.

"Why don't you ask her to play with it, sir" you cocked your head to the side like he did, waiting for him to answer, his cheeks flushing. "Hm?"

"Want you to play with it" His voice was a whisper pushing his hips forward, showing you exactly where he needed you.

"You want me to play with your cock baby, it that it?" You cooed, tapping the tip with your index finger and pulling away slowly, letting the string of precum stretch before popping your finger into your mouth. "You're so wet" You hummed at his taste, stating the words he'd always throw at you before tracing circles onto his sensitive head again, smearing his arousal around without actually stroking him.

"Fuck" Bucky hissed, nearly slumping again the door while you teased him, biting back the moans that were lodged in the back of his throat. You wrapped your hand around his thick length without actually moving, squeezing the base of his cock.

"What is it kitten" you sneered, mimicking his words from earlier, smirking at the way his cock throbbed in your hand in response. "Look at you" you whispered, "Oh sweet boy" You cooed again, this time moving your hand to cup his full, heavy balls, rolling them in your palm, "They've so heavy, does it hurt?"

"Hurts so bad" He moaned when you tugged them and squeezed them while nipping his neck. You lazily wrapped around his length again, giving him long languid strokes, watching his face twist with desperation for more. Bucky felt like a teenage boy, thrusting into your hand, struggling not to blow while you continued to jerk his cock, his hips rolling to fuck your fist. He felt like he'd never been touched before, this being the first time someone had ever taken control over him and it was something else, especially when it was you.

"Mmmph" He whined, confused and aroused at the same time, desperate for more of your delicious torture, his dom side slipping even more. He tried to regain his bearings, standing straight up again, sucking in a breath, "So jealous-

"So desperate" You tutted, smacking his cheek for opening his mouth while rubbing and stroking his shaft, ignoring his tip completely.

"C'mon bunny, touch me" He was breathless, chasing your hand each time he got close to getting the tip into your palm, groaning when you moved away.

"I am touching you, aren't' I?"

God, he loved you like this.

"The tip- please, need you there, c'mon, please"

A wicked idea sparked in your mind, pulling him by his tie to stand in front of the floor to ceiling high windows that overlooked the city. The same windows he'd fucked you against countless of times, letting the world see you fall apart. Now it was your turn.

Bucky could feel his heart hammer against his chest standing in front of the window, the city twinkling below him while you stood behind him, your hand coming around his waist to grasp his cock. Bucky's hands flew to the window, splayed wide to hold himself up, fucking his cock into your hand, hardly in control of his movements.

He pulled back enough so the head of his cock would rub against your palm before pushing forward again, chasing his orgasm, unable to take his eyes off the way his fat cock slipped in and out of you smaller hand.

"S'good to me bunny, need you ta' squeeze my cock harder, c'mon, need you bunny, I need you" He practically whimpered for you, balling his hands into fists when you complied with a hum, moving your hand with his movement, adding more pressure, feeling his cock grow harder.

"Gonn'a c-cum" Bucky stuttered out while you kissed his neck, letting him continue to fuck your hand, his tip nearly touching the cool glass with how fast he was moving. "Oh God-"

"Such a pretty, fat cock, you're making a mess baby, are you gonna cum in front of everyone and show everyone who you really belong to?" You whispered, only getting a slutty, guttural moan back in response. "Go a head baby, make yourself cum, show everyone you're mine"

"OH FUCKKKK" Your words tossed him over the edge, a pornographic moan slipped past his pink lips as he started to paint the windows with thick spurts of his cum. His body trembled, shivers running down his spine as his balls seized against his body, still feeling full as ever.

"Oh god, I can't stop" Bucky wrapped his hand on top of yours, jerking himself off faster, working up to a second orgasm, angling his hips to shoot at the window again, his head thrown back, nearly falling onto his knees. "C'mon, make me cum again, pleaseplease-

You pushed him back onto his large chair, pulling your dress up and panties to the side, impaling yourself onto his overstimulated cock, crying out when he gripped your hips and started to thrust up, not giving you any control. You clung onto him while he drilled up into you, dribbles of cum still pouring from the tip.

"You're mine sir, mine"

"M'all yours bunny, all fuckin' yours, use me, oh fuck, use me" You grasped onto his shoulders, riding him till tears streaked his face, taking everything you gave him while you pulled a third orgasm from him. And a fourth.

"I-I can't cum anymore, please, cock hurts bunny, I can't-

He was begging but he didn't want you to stop, his hips continuing to thrust up while he slammed your ass down on him sloppily, eyes rolled back while chasing your peaked nipples. He pulled you forward so he could suckle onto them while

"Your cock hurts baby boy?" you stroked his cheek, the new term of endearment making him hard all over again, a sob escaping him.

"It hurts so much, make it go away, m'still so hard, why's your pussy so good bunny"

"One more baby boy?"

"O-one more bunny"

By the end of the night, he was milked dry, holding onto you while you were tucked into his chest, his soft cock still buried deep in your pussy. His neck was littered with dark bruises you marked him with, trailing down to his chest. He cuddled you for a few more minutes before you both had to make your way back down, his hand not leaving yours.

"How was the call - oh-" the red head's eyes grew wide seeing the red and purple hues that peaked under Bucky's collar a proud smirk on his face while he put his arm around your waist.

"It went well. Closed a new deal, if you must know" He stated before pressing a kiss onto your cheek, grinning at the way you melted into him, his soft little bunny.

sorry, this was longer than i intended.

[drgnflyteabox]

the lusty cabin-dweller

pairing: ghost / Simon riley x fem reader summary: your life gets wider when you find an injured man outside of your cabin. tags/warnings: Skyrim!ghost, secrets, graphic injuries, some angst, facial injuries, nursing Simon back to health one stew at a time <3, listen to this for the vibes, vaginal + anal sex, oral (f), animal attacks, blood, processing an animal for meat and fur, violence, death (non-major), mention of Skyrim racism, softdom!Simon, some backstory, please hmu if i forgot anything, one bed trope, simon backstory adapted to skyrim lol (so past abuse, murder, theft, domstic violence) but nothing graphic w.c: 5k

Honey-nut is squealing again. Some days you think she might not be worth the milk and cheese she gives you for all the trouble she causes. A high, strange bleating cuts through the chilled night air like a knife, sharp and terrifying only for a moment.

She's been at this since Frostfall. Maybe it was the weather causing Honey-nut distress - she was getting old, after all. For a goat.

In the time it takes you to trudge out of bed, pull on a wool shift and a fur, two things happen: one, Honey-nut stops bleating, and the woods surrounding your cottage becomes deathly silent.

Two, a crunch.

Just one, but it's enough. Someone is outside.

For a brief, hysterical moment, you worry for Honey-nuts safety. Have they hurt her to be quiet? No, you'd have heard that at least. Your breath comes fast, chest squeezing. Bandits? Probably not. It's a decent hike up to your wooden cottage. But it is nearing winter, and soon it will be Sun's Dusk. It's not unheard of that they'd be looking for a place to take over for the colder months.

Your hand goes to your heart, fingertips touching your throat. Be calm, you tell yourself. You aren't helpless, look. The axe, leaning by your front door. You can see in the dark well enough, and you're more familiar with your homestead than they are.

The axe feels right in your hands. Too-familiar, weighty, deadly. You touch your ear to the door, trying to reign in your fear. Nothing. Then, a wheeze, strangled and restrained like whoever it is can't afford to be heard. But you have heard it, and you push the door open.

"Show yourself!" You shout, voice surer than you feel. Your knees quake a little, but your grip on the axe is strong.

The animal pen is a mere few steps away from your front door. Past the front garden, it's wide open aside from the little shelter you built the past Mid Year. A foot sticks out, clad in armor.

"I'm armed," you add. "You're not getting anything from me!" The world is dark, the woods quiet. Adrenaline burns in you, bright enough to guide your steps.

"You gonna kill me with that, girl?"

Gruff voice, like scraping rocks. Coming into view, you see that this man poses no threat. He's half dead, slumped and pale, clutching his side.

"Who are you? What's your business here?" The axe is a deterrent, now. Just for show. You hold it above him, but nearly drop it when you see his face. It's sliced right through the middle, from his forehead to his jaw. "Oh, gods-"

"Mind yourself with that," his eyes flit to the axe. "Or put me out of my misery now."

Your shoulders dip down, lowering your weapon. Guilt crawls into your belly and settles there when you notice that yes- his feet are armored, but the rest of him is dressed in miners attire. White, coal-dusted shirt. Workman's pants, tucked into woolen calf wraps. God, he must be freezing. Maybe that's saved his life, staunched the bloodflow. It's tacky on him, not shining wet like you expected.

"What's happened to you?" You cringe at the sound of your voice. It's gone from fierce defensiveness to cloying concern, staring only at the blood staining his skin.

He breathes hard, staring at you a moment. It's hard to tell what he's thinking, what he's feeling. Outside of obvious pain. Leaves around you shiver in the breeze, a light snow beginning to fall when he finally speaks.

"Bandits," he grunts. "An ambush." Every word is a fight, a wheeze. Empathy drives away caution and you drop your weapon in favour of kneeling beside him.

"Come on, then. Let me help you," lifting him is a monumental task, even with him helping. He's as big as horse, thick as one too. Legs like tree trucks that hold him up just barely, feet sliding weakly on the uneven ground.

Looking back, Honey-nut watches you bring him through the doorway with a judgmental twinkle in her eye. Maybe it's time for goatherd pie.

///

Your bed is too small. His feet hang off comically, and the wood creaks under his weight. It'll have to do. Your mother would have beaten you black and blue for this - for inviting a stranger in, for settling him in your bed without so much as a what’s your name? But you know how to stitch and turning away someone in as bad a shape as he is would weigh on your conscience.

You light the sconces along the wall, and then a lantern to keep by his bedside. Warm, orange light fills the cottage, flickering every so often, inspiring calm.

"I'm no healer," you warn him. "Nor an alchemist." It’s not necessarily a lie. You had done a brief stint as a volunteer for the temple of Kynareth, lending your hands and your time to help nurse wounded soldiers. There had been supervision then, though. Guidance.

"I’m shit out of luck for choices, sweetheart,” his facial wound leaks a little when he speaks, blood running down the side of his face in thin rivulets. The wound at his side, however, is what worries you the most.

“Let me,” you murmur. Your fingers find the edge of his shirt, pulling them out of his pants, and up, up, gently. Looking him in the eye, watching his pain win over his weariness.

Another gash, swaddled in cloth wrapped sloppily around his middle. Without moving him you have to cut them off, slicing off his shirt at the same time. This one bleeds sluggishly, skin shredded, like he’d been dragged over coarse rock.

He words slur, energy leaving him. Mumbles under his breath things you can’t make out, and don’t try to. You’re busy rinsing, cleaning, and patting his ribs dry. Tensing every so often, he breathes hard through his nose to offset the pain. Mumbles some more, hands making fists.

It’s bad, but he’ll live. Exhaustion might trump over all, anyhow, what with how his eyelids have begun closing. Through the slit of them his eyes are pale, like sunlight through deep blue ice. Blonde lashes, stark against the dirt and coal smearing his skin.

You work in silence, letting him sleep through this one so he’ll hopefully be unconscious for the work you have yet to do on his face.

“Who did this?” You whisper to no one. You’re a breeze in the night, alone, hunched over this man and wiping his face with a cloth.

Clear of blood and grime, you gather a sewing needle and dip it into the lantern flame. Stitching is easy, but on his face? You falter a moment, worried, until you think of how proud men often are of their scars. Boasting battles won and creatures slain.

It’s that thought that pushes you through to the end, weaving the needle through until he's sewn and clean of blood.

///

Sweat and iron. The smell of it, sharp and salty, sea foam and earth, is the first thing you're aware of.

Then, the light of morning. Pale, almost white, invading through the windows in rays. A chill. Your eyes open with a not insignificant amount of effort, back twinging in different places as you become aware of the world again.

"Awake?" You startle, jerking up. It's the man from the night before, laying as he was, a little curled against the pain and big as an ox. "W's startin' t'think you'd sleep all day."

"It's morning, is it not?" You're not used to talking this early - or at all. "How's the- how are you feeling?"

He grunts, shuffling. His wrapped side has some blood peeking through, little spots of leakage, not enough to lose your head over. His face has swelled some overnight though, and you're awake enough now to hear the muffled quality to his voice. Part of the cut pulls his upper lip tightly. You wince.

"Just wait. I have something for the," you pause, crossing your space on stiff legs to find the bookshelf. Clay pots, glass bottles, books. Ah, here it is. "For the pain." It's some elixir. Purchased the last time you'd made the trek to Markarth from Muiri, the alchemists apprentice. It brings forth a distant memory of pain, of twisting your ankle running after Honey-nut.

Your ankle hadn't quite healed right, but this was good for when winter came and stiffness made the pain worse again.

He eyes you wearily as you approach. Suspiciously. As if you haven't been helping him out of the kindness of your heart…

"This will help," a promise.

"Don't need'it." He slurs, then cringes as it pulls his lip again.

"You'll recover faster if you're in less pain."

In the end he acquiesces, if not just to take the edge of the purpling that's beginning to show on the edges of his bandage. Broken ribs, maybe?

///

Chores need to be done whether or not there's an obstinate patient in your bed. Honey-nut needs to be milked, and she fights you every step of the way. You discover her pen open from last night and sigh with relief that she's still there.

The chickens have laid eggs for you, and you collect them diligently in your apron. Then, the garden. And finally a sweep of your traps in the woods.

Just one rabbit, but it's enough. You hope the man likes stew, and that his swelling goes down enough for him to tell you his name.

///

He tells you his name is Ghost. Strange, but you've heard stranger. Maybe he's a follower of Namira, you wonder not without an inkling of apprehension. Ghost is quiet, even as he heals. After you'd made yourself a straw bed on the other side of the cabin, you'd wake to him sitting up and stretching. Testing himself. Always silent.

The exhaustion was the worst of it. One nearly empty bottle of elixir later, the swelling on his face has gone down significantly. His ribs sore but on the mend. It was sleep that he needed, and lots of it.

Days passed like this. Switching bandages, wiping and cleaning, cooking enough stew for two. Nearly a week until he was up and about insisting to help around the cottage.

"No need," you tried to gently push him back into the warmth of the open door. He was too big, and having none of it. "You'll be better in no time."

He was just so tall. Were he to stand still at your doorway, half his face would be covered by the top of it. Despite his condition, you could tell that your initial comparison to a horse was completely on the nose. Stocky as a boar, arms thick as mammoth tusks. Hairy like blonde wheat shining in the sun. You'd noticed as much, watching him rest, watching his eyelashes flutter on his cheeks as he dreamt.

///

Ghost works like you're paying him in gold. He sweats, arms swinging down over and over again above the chopping block. There's enough wood to last three winters now - maybe four. Every job he takes is finished to excess. Your roof has never looked better, re-thatched in rotting places and swept clear of mildew. The old wood fence in your garden? Replaced.

Honey-nut finds her new favourite person when he dismantles what he calls shoddy work, and rebuilds her a shelter twice as big. The chickens are still weary, but enjoy receiving the kitchen scraps he tosses.

"There's really no need for all this," you insist again, because he's come back this afternoon with an elk on his back.

"Didn't need to fix me up, either, did'ya?"

You break it down together. Ghost does the harder part, while you take cuts of meat to dry for jerky. The rest will go into a venison casserole, with juniper berries.

"Hey- Ghost?" You call. He's skinning the rest of it for furs. "I'm off to gather some berries for dinner."

A nod, and you're off.

Your basket is old, woven, carried once by your mother and now you. Silly, but special all the same. It's stained with many years of berry collecting, many years of winter nights spent tucking into fruity crostatas or summers full of juniper mead.

The hills are rife with the low, rough trees. They grow like weeds here in the Reach, mountain pocked with patches of light green and little blue berries. Once, as a child, you'd made the mistake of eating one straight off the branch. Bitter as burnt coffee, it was lesson you'd learned through tears of laughter with your mother. A happy memory.

Does Ghost have a family? You wonder again about him, about why a man like that is wasting his time mining. He could've climbed the ranks as an imperial and been a General or - divines forbid - a stormcloak. You prayed he wasn't so craven as to follow Ulfric and his band of Nord supremacists.

It's this distraction that leads you right into the waiting jaws of a sabre cat. Quick and silent, it reminds you of your patient for an absurd moment before you're tripping backwards, basket full of berries scattered and forgotten. Your hip makes contact with the ground hard, pain lancing through your joint like a spear.

Fuck, how could you be so stupid? This was a mountain, leagues away from the nearest town. Sabres, bears, wolves. You'd always, always used awareness as a first precaution. Sight, sounds, keeping your ears tuned to the slightest crack in a twig. If not, there was the bow and arrow stowed away under your bed.

Now, you were caught unawares. Muscles under it's fur rippled, a low growl in it's barrel chest, creeping toward you. Adrenaline burned through you like a fever, hot and electric all at once, freezing you in place by the weight of your heart in your stomach.

Stendarr's mercy, dying from an animal attack after living years on the craggy peaks of the mountains, avoiding ambushes and robberies. Living on goats cheese and chicken eggs, nothing yet achieved. What a waste. Miserable, hopeless tears prick at your eyes. Your breath leaves you in quick, desperate puffs. Running wasn't an option - it would only encourage the sabre. Sovngarde, here you come-

"Aaarghgh aaaaa!" A roar. Loud, ringing in your ears, as fierce as a cave bear. It's Ghost, jumping through the brush towards you with his arms above his head. "Bugger off!" He's screaming loud, voice cracking a little, the stitches at his lip tearing just enough for droplets of blood to fall.

"I'll put you down!" It's nonsense, but it's loud, and he's massive. Taller than the sabre even if it stood on two legs. When he reaches you, he steps in front of you. Shields you.

The face-off is likely less than a few minutes, but it feels like time moves as slow as honey. Ghost faces of the sabre, screaming like a madman, beating his chest and waving his arms. It creeps backward, hissing and fighting, but is cowed by his stance and size.

When it's disappeared through the maze of juniper trees, he turns to you. Extends a palm rough like bark.

"How long have you lived here, again?" His voice grates as usual, made worse by his shouting.

Your face heats in embarrassment. "A few years. I'm not usually so distracted," you dust your dress, patting yourself. Twigs and dirt fall from the wool. "I swear. I got lost picking berries."

He snorts, like you're stupid. You feel stupid.

The basket is half empty when you call it quits, tired from fear. Ghost is hunched beside you, holding his ribs again, rubbing his lip almost compulsively.

"Stop that, you'll get a thicker scar," you reach for his elbow.

"Don't care much about that, love," he shrugs your hand away.

Dinner is made in silence. It's a miracle you have the energy, but while you're physically drained your mind is running in circles. You watch with concern as he sits gingerly back on the bed. The pain in your hip pulses with sympathy, pulsing heat travelling down your leg and up your back.

"Need me to take a look at anything?" Besides his obvious discomfort, you'll have to fix his face back up. You'd prefer for him to be in a welcoming mood.

"I can handle it," Mr Stoic over here. "Did'ya take a fall?"

You drop dried frost mirriam into chopped, boiled potatoes. Then a pad of butter.

"Yes, but I'm alright," the cream sauce comes together, ladled over the venison. You're out of eidar cheese, but Honey-nuts goat cheese crumbled over everything is perfectly fine. Ghost eats like a furnace taking coal, anyhow.

"Let me see," he's up close. Again, you've been taken unawares. A sharp inhale like a gasp, heart beat picking up, breathing in the smell of him. It's gone from bloody to pine, to earth, to fresh wood. His hands find your hip and you hiss, trying to jerk away. In doing so you press your side into his chest, curled close, warm not just from the fire. "It's alright, sweet girl." He murmurs into the top of your head.

This tenderness is new. His fingers are as gentle as you've seen them in the last few weeks, pulling up the thick skirts of your dress and assessing the tender skin. It's a little hot to the touch, painful. The rough pad of his thumb brushes against you softly, making you whine.

His lips brush your hair, not quite kissing you, but affectionate nonetheless. You're close enough to see his throat bob when he swallows.

"Just a bump, huh, sweet girl?" He takes over, mashing the potatoes, setting out plates at your little wooden table, guiding you by your lower back.

You eat in relative silence, thighs brushing, a tension bubbling to the surface like stew on the fire. He spares you a few glances between bites, still wincing whenever he has to bend down.

"I'll take a look at that again before bed," you speak through a mouthful of creamy venison.

Sure enough, he's reopened some of his stitches. Not worst case scenario, but you spend a few minutes hunched over and bandaging him up again. He stares at you intently, eyes so clear and focused you wish he wouldn't. It makes your hand shake.

Moving to get up and back to your straw bed, his arm shoots out as quick as an arrow and takes your wrist in his hand. His stare is the same, squinting at you like he's waiting for you to confess something. Like he's waiting for you to give in.

"You're not sleeping on the floor," he says, sure, chest puffed. "Not with your hip. Come on now, come lay down." Gently, he tugs you down. Protests make it to the tip of your tongue and nowhere else, not with the promise of a mattress on your sore muscles and screaming hip.

It's too small though, much too small. Already he was hanging off, shoulders taking up the entire width. You curl forward, on your good side, facing away from him and into the dark. The cabin is still warm from cooking dinner.

His breath puffs on the back of your neck, hand finding your arm and stroking up and down. Soothing you. He curls around you, following the natural bend of your body.

"Simon," he whispers.

Your brow almost touches your hairline. "That's not my name."

"No," his reply is half spoken, half physical. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, bicep under you, cradling you, his big bear paw hugging your shoulder. A stray pinky ventures dangerously close to your nipple, fingers spread. "It's mine."

The world widens. "Yours?" You breathe in, out. It's trust, is what it is. He's giving you a piece of himself, this stranger, for you to hold. "Simon," you taste it in your mouth. "Simon."

He laughs against your hair. "Was watching you," he confesses. "After we got- after the ambush. Walked for days, till I found you."

"How long did you watch?" You're curious, if not a little suspicious. "You weren't casing it, were you?"

"No, nothing like that. Couldn't keep walking," he sighs loud like a dog. "Hadn't eaten, hadn't drank. Needed to know if you were somewhere I could stay."

"That's why Honey-nut was losing her mind," the realization is half funny, half scary. By the eight, you really hadn't noticed someone living so close-by for so long?

"Honey-nut?"

"You've met her, Simon. She's the goat."

"Ah," he snorts. "I've been calling her Molag-Bal, for how she's got us in the palm of her hand."

"Simon!" You shriek with laughter, shaking until he squeezes you from behind. So close his heartbeat taps against your back.

///

A week goes by, and each night is the same. You wake together, sleep together, eat together. Simon regains his strength and his wounds turn into scars. His face is deeply marked, but you've never known him another way. Truthfully, it adds to his handsomeness. There's a ruggedness there that one can only develop living in the rough.

The air gets colder, frigid in the mornings and nights. Light snows have begun falling, and Honey-nut begins her bleating until you put up the winter wall of her shelter, boxing her in. The chickens slowly cease laying eggs, bundling together, clucking at Simon when he checks for the seasons last bounty.

The time to make a trek to Markarth is creeping. You need dried goods, grain, seeds for spring, dried meats, elixirs - everything. It'll be your last trip before you're stuck in the freezing mountains with nobody but Honey-nut to talk to.

Books are your salvation during the cold months.

"I have to get supplies soon," you break the news to Simon early in the morning, when the light just barely creeps over the craggy peaks of the mountains. "In Markarth."

There. It's over with - telling him. You know you're being a coward by not asking directly, but you need to know. What is he going to do now that he's healed? Spend a few more months with you? You're still mostly strangers, practicing domesticity together, but strangers nonetheless.

"Can't go to Markarth," he says.

"Why's that?"

Simon looks at you then, eyes hard and tender at the same time. He grimaces a little, scar twisting wit his expression.

"Used to work there," A pause. "Used to… mine there."

"What?" Cidhna mine is for prisoners. You take a small step back, shaking your head. "What?" You repeat. Cidhna mine? Is that how- oh. His injuries, his waiting to see who you were before approaching. By the gods, you've been tricked!

"You tricked me-" you start, upset. Was he a killer, a robber? Images dredged from the recesses of your mind float to the surface. Men, fire, your mother cut down before you.

"No, no," he interrupts. He's shaking his head, not quite stepping forward but leaning toward you. Eyebrows drawn up, palms facing you in supplication. "Sweet girl, I," he looks around then, as if the words will appear written in smoke from the hearthfire. "Listen to me please," he pleads.

"Tell me what you did!" It's a near-shout, but you're upset. He's been cozying up to you while running from the law. Not that you're a total stickler for rules, but the men at Cidhna mine aren't there without reason.

The most secure prison in Skyrim.

"I will, I'll tell you. Just sit down please, sit with me." He pats a chair, sitting in the one beside it. Beseeching you. "Cm'ere, sweet girl. M'sorry."

///

You sit quietly while he tells you, choking a little on the rising tide of emotions. The biggest question is should you believe him? This story of his past, his father, a childhood spent learning to steal and bully to survive. Elixirs for a brother hooked on skooma, food for a mother grown sickly from her husbands abuse. Eventually getting rid of his father altogether, and wining up in Cidhna.

"If what you say is true," your voice wavers, throat tight with emotion. "Why not tell me?"

He shrugs his shoulders, looking up for a moment as if asking the divines for guidance.

"You never asked."

For a moment, you want to be indignant. You laid with him, cooked for him, wiped blood and sweat off his brow.

But he's right. You never asked, never thought to - just wondered, minded your business, content to help someone in need of it. The feeling of betrayal loosens in your chest, releasing it's vice grip on your heart, a calmer acceptance taking place.

The position it leaves you in is awkward, even if you're content to believe him. You've been too yielding since you met him. Accepted him into your home, accepted his story. Ambushed by bandits? A silly lie, now that you think of it. Vague, believable. Easier than explaining that guards had slashed him as he escaped imprisonment. That he couldn't go back because he was so recognizable.

You don't speak as you get ready. It's not an angry silence, but one brought by embarrassment. How stupid he must think you are, cozying up up to him like that.

The question of where he'll go burns still in your mind, in your gut. You're nervous, fingers shaking a little as you wrap long strips of warm wool on your calves, forearms, and between your fingers. Your dress is double-layered, boots sturdy.

It's a trip and half, lugging everything. You're on foot until you reach the nearest inn, and from there you rent a horse and cargo carriage. Easier from there, with Jazbay the white mare to pull you along.

"I know someone in Cidhna," Simon interrupts your thoughts. He's always tall, imposing, a little intimidating. Now he looks as sheepish as a man like him can look. "Could you…" He extends his hand, a letter clasped in it.

You grimace, but nod curtly.

"Thank you, honey," he breathes a sigh of relief. Honey. That ones new. It fills you with warmth.

"You're welcome to stay with me," you blurt. Impulsive, stupid. Brought on by the familiarity of his affection. "For the winter, I mean."

He's across the cabin in two steps. He presses his front to yours, hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs gently rubbing your cheekbones.

He kisses you, then, and everything slides into place. Your stomach tightens, hands coming up to grasp his shoulders, gasping into his mouth. It's wet, lips smacking noisily, the only sound in the near-frozen forest. Acceptance, sweet and buttery. This is a man whose never had a home.

"I can't stall any longer-" you try. He interrupts you with his mouth again, long kisses like it's reviving him, revitalizing him. "I gotta-"

"Shh, sweetheart," he hums lowly. Gods, you've never been this wet. It soaks into your cotton underwear, clit pulsing in time with your heart. "Let me take care of you, yeah?"

///

He's so solid, firm muscle and hard cock. It leaks between his legs, bobbing with his abdomen where he's kneeled on the floor, face in your cunt.

"Simon!" You're shouting, unabashed. Years have passed since anyone's touched you last, and you're sensitive as a maid, gripping his too-long hair almost meanly. Simon licks you like a starving man, slurping, letting you drip and then sucking it off your skin. His fingers find the entrance of your pussy, fitting himself in two at a time.

Once you've begun, you can't stop. He fucks you on the bed, letting it creak dangerously. Bends you over the table, cock dragging in and out of you deliciously. You shake and shiver in his arms, wrung out and insatiable all at once.

"Can I have you here, sweet girl?" He thumbs at your other hole, dipping in, kissing your inner thighs.

"Yes, gods yes, Simon," you drag his name out. Si-i-mon. It sounds good that way, breathy, not spoken but moaned and screamed. It's late evening, dark, colder now that you haven't lit the fire.

No need, when his cock is as hot as coals and slides between your arsecheeks like a divining rod. Your pussy is aching and hot, too-sensitive. You're belly down on the bed again, hands gripped in the sheets.

When you deliberately relax your muscles, he fits his fingers in your ass using come as lubricant. Spits down onto you, watches you start to rub yourself into the bedding desperately.

"None of that," he pants, pulling you up by your hips. A whine builds in your throat, which he shushes by pushing his other two fingers in your cunt. You yelp, moving toward him and away from him. He keeps you still, firmly holding your hips.

You come, tears beginning to leak into your sheets, when he presses his cock against the notch of your hole and pushes in.

A long, deep groan from the pit of his stomach starts and doesn't stop until he's sheathed. You're frozen, stuck in a gasp that doesn't end, filled to the brim.

Simon begins to rock, shallowly, stealing your breath and breathing it back into you with every thrust. It's then that you begin to make sound, crying out and fisting the sheets, rocking your hips with him. He reaches around, leaning down to kiss your shoulders and play with your clit at the same time.

"Not gonna last," he says into your skin. "Gonna come inside you again."

You're easy - so sensitive that if he breathed on you long enough you're sure you'd peak. His fingers twisting and pinching your clit is pure madness, and you tighten like a vice around him as you yowl your last orgasm of the night.

His hips snap into yours roughly, abandoning your clit for the flesh of your hips, pounding, dragging, grunting into you as he finds his own release.

Half-asleep, you fell him roll over onto his side and turn your head to face him. He's smiling lazily, stroking your skin, still sweating from exertion.

"I'll come with you tomorrow," he whispers.

"I thought you couldn't come to Markarth?" Confusion prickles at you, brows coming together. He finds the furrow with his thumb and smooths it away.

"I can't, honey. But I can come down and wait for you."

"You will?" Hope rises in you, in tandem with affection.

"Always," his voice is a soft murmur.

"Tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow. Goodnight, sweet girl."

<3

[sexilene]

Hi angel! thoughts on 80s!slasher!jj ?? I loveee ur work btw! sending hugs and kisses! 💗

ofccc!! this is fun lol - 80s!slasher!jj

₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - p in v, non con, violence, jealous!jj, death, slight breeding kink, threats, obsessed!jj, dark!jj - ₊˚⊹

you and jj would have never become friends if you both hadn't met while working together at the little fast-food diner inside the mall. he was usually working in the back, preparing the food, and you were usually on server duty. with your short white tennis skirt and the diner polo shirt uniform you could usually draw attention from guys who wanna take you out and possibly eat you, you were so sweet. but there were days when you and jj would both be on cashier duty, those were his and your favorite days, it was basically like hanging out all day side by side.

as the day dragged on it was getting closer to closing time, thank goodness you thought, already super exhausted. after a few minutes a group of preppy jerk jocks come in, one of the guys walking up to your register with a stupid smirk on his face, danny. "hey babygirl, can i get uh, the number 5 with a milkshake anduh- your number? " he tilts his head up, proud of his little pickup line. you shake your head with a small smile and silently scoff at his stupidity. jj who is currently helping another customer, listens in and watches the interaction by side eyeing you both every few seconds. jj's jaw ticks as he tries to let you handle it. 

"a number 5 will that be all?" you continue to try and be professional with a sweet smile. 

"uh no actually, how about- you let me take you to the prom," he smirks again.

"i'm actually out of town that day so-" you tilt your head and act uninterested. 

"oh cuhmon- it'll be fun, you know you want to. i even booked a hotel room for that night and we'll-" danny persists further until he's interrupted by jj who snaps his head toward us. 

"she said no man." jj warns, danny's mouth agape as he turns over to look at jj. 

"was i talking to you maybank? cuz uh- i don't think i was." danny snickers almost trying to size jj up. 

"i don't give a shit, she's clearly not interested." jj squints his eyes and nods to himself. 

"oh woah! you've got yourself a little protector huh? no way this guy is your boyfriend right?" the guy turns to you and then back to jj. "i mean look at you! she's a total betty and you...you and your deadbeat dad aren't even good enough to scrape the dirt off our shoes." the boy scoffs and the rest of his friends snicker on cue.

jj tongues his cheek and grins in faux amusement, the guy turns around to walk off like a winner when jj reaches his arm out and taps the guy's shoulder. "hey man you forgot your-" jj grabs one of the milkshakes ready on the counter and throws it in the asshole's face, 'ruining' danny's gelled hair and expensive polo shirt. the diner fills with gasps, 'ooohs' and snickers.

"milkshake." jj finishes his sentence, and laughes through his nose. you stand there eyes wide as danny wipes the melted pink milk off his eyelids. "quit fuckin' around and get outta here" jj shoos the guy away with the motion of his hand as the humiliated boy walks away shouting back loudly "you are so dead maybank!" 

"whata piece of shit." jj mumbles and slams his hand on the counter and turns to see the manager shaking his head, disappointed. jj goes into the kitchen leaving you there to process what just happened. 

as the restaurant was about to close, you and jj were the only ones left, since you would have been closing together that night. the manager did fire him but somehow managed to stick around without him seeing jj.

you decided to let him do this thing inside the kitchen while you did the final table wipe-downs and setting up everything for tomorrow morning, time after time playing in the background. you hear some concerning noises coming from the kitchen area, knowing only jj was in there makes you stop and wonder why all the banging?, when another loud scary sound can be heard throughout the diner. you run behind the counter and around the corner to see what was making that noise, your eyes land on danny, dead, laying flat on his back on the floor with his face all burnt, bubbling, and bloody. you let out a horrified scream and cover your mouth immediately afterward, stumbling backward a bit and feeling nauseous. 'how did danny even end up back here?' you thought.

you feel your back bump into something, and you let out another spooked yelp, you feel two strong hands spin you around and when you look up, you realize it's only jj. 

"jj, danny...he must have- the deep fryer-" you stutter, and he shushes you "i know, i know."

"we have to call the police! i-is he dead? oh god, i'm gonna be sick..." tears start to fall down your cheeks, terrified and confused by how jj isn't freaking out or doing anything about it. you squirm out of his grip and back away from him.

"jj? did you hurt danny? oh my god, did you burn his face off?" you ask with wide eyes, chest heaving. 

jj nods but he doesn't look remorseful. you start to burst out in tears, unsure of what to do, you look over at the door and back over at jj who gives you a look of warning. he's all sweaty and dirty, his white shirt stained with grease and blood. 

the jukebox continues to play music, where otherwise silence would fill the diner. you decide to make a run for the door, but he beats you to that. jj manages to stand in front of you, clenching his jaw and squinting his eyes. 

"i did that for you, i did it to protect you." he spits, looking down at you in disappointment. 

"you're scaring me jj" you whine.

"why? i think you're being ungrateful." he whispers, looking down at you.

"you murdered him! jj you'll get in so much trouble, they'll know you did it!"

"no, manager man thought i left already..and i'll get him outta here so" he shrugs.

you whine again, eyes moving towards where danny was lying on the ground. jj snaps his fingers in front of your face to get you to pay attention to him again. 

"what you want him? you liked that guy? huh?" he spits out frustratedly. you shake your head no, now too afraid to even speak "what so now im the bad guy? cause i got rid of him for YOU!" he shouts and you flinch, unsure of what to do now. 

"you know what, fine, i think i deserve a little thank you don't you think?" he clenches his jaw again and yanks at your top pulling you to the other side of the counter, overlooking danny's corpse. 

he bends you over and yanks your skirt down, you begin to cry when you realize what he's going to do. "no, jj no, i'm scared please" you sob too frozen in fear to move. 

"you should see what i did with the rest of the bodies" he laughs quietly and reaches his hand around your waist to meanly grab your poor cunt, then pulling your panties to the side. you look down at the bloody dead body again and shut your eyes tight, then you feel jj's fat tip teasing your hole, sliding in your stickiness. "no, you are supposed to be my friend jj! friends don't do this!" you mewl.

he wraps his arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock when he starts to push in to keep you from thrashing around. "shush, s'fine see? s'fine drama queen." he grunts in your ear, starting to slowly thrust in and out. 

part of you wishes you had the strength to kick him off of you, but the other half is in heaven. "look at danny, you want him? wanna go to the prom with that? hmm?" he taunts, squeezing you tighter in the headlock with his beefy arms when you don't respond which makes you let out a whimpery moan. 

"no! no, i don't wanna keep looking at him! it's making me sick!" you cry.

"i know, i know...grossing you out kinda turns me on though," he grunts again and laughs. he spits in his hand and uses that to sloppily rub your clit. the feeling of his spit mixed with your wetness makes you whine.

he keeps on pounding your pussy, letting you out of the headlock, and pushing your tits to press against the countertop. he smiles at all the little 'uh-uh's' you let out with each thrust. 

"you feel better? yeah? you calm now?" he hums and brings his hand down to smack your ass causing you to squeal and push your ass out almost asking for more. 

"yeah, i know mama, nobody's ever gonna touch you again kay?" his voice soft, making you nod slowly and dazed. 

"say thank you and i'll let you cum." he pressures you, so close to spilling all over him. 

"mmnnm jay-"

"use your manners c'mon" he cuts you off and brings his hand down again to start to rub your clit faster.

"thank you jayjay, thank you-" your cunt pulsing around his dick as you cum hard.

"atta girl, atta girl" he praises, then pushes into you harder than before, filling you up, and pulling out. he tucks himself away and moves your panties back to cover your cunt and to keep his cum and yours pooled in them. he pats your covered pussy and lets out a satisfied hum. 

"go wait by the mall entrance n i'll take you home, jus' gonna get ridda this guy." he pats your ass and walks over to get rid of the bloody body.  ᥫ᭡

[rizsu]

wife on the low manjiro, sanzu.

sum. babysitter!reader. idk where i was going with this one

manjirō sano

tension. too much tension. it's not easy trying to focus on a happy baby when you have two eyes digging through your soul. his gaze is terrifying—whether it's just the way he's just there quietly or the fact that he's bonten's leader, you don't know. he's a scary man.

trying your best to ignore whatever he's doing, you focus on cheerful baby that's been slapping her hands continuously on the little container with water.

she's five months currently so you decided it's time for sensory playtime! starting off with water and slowly adding little sensory toys into the container as she plays.

“it's getting messy.”

“oh—should we stop?”

“no, continue. i'll clean up.”

mikey pushes himself off of the door's frame and wanders off to some room for a mop. he walks away with thoughts swimming in his head; delusional thoughts if you asked him.

he doesn't really know what is it that he's feeling. is it love? dunno. he never felt it in a long time. well, it's not like he remembers what love felt like—he didn't even love the mother of his daughter. hell he can't even remember what possessed him to have sex.

coming back into the playroom, he stills for a moment. cute, he thinks. you look fitting like that. something about the way you're giggling with his daughter while she babbles words only those of her kind understands really makes his heart swell.

“'m back,” he announces after a good few minutes of gawking.

moving the baby onto her crib, you pinch her cheek before going to help mikey.

so close, you think. his body's just above yours—close to the point where you can feel his sweater on your head. his hands moves on yours taking hold of the container.

you made the mistake of glancing at him,, now you're stuck gazing into his static eyes, looking for any hints of his current emotion.

five seconds turned into ten and he doesn't break the eye contact. rather, his right hand glides from the container and rests itself on your cheek.

does he know why he did that? no.

is he going to elaborate? also no.

a few more minutes in wondering silence until he breaks it.

“you're pretty.”

oh!

it takes a minute to process it; eyes opened but still looking into his. mikey drifts his gaze from your lips and back to your eyes. he shows no signs of taking back what he said.

“thank...you..?”

chuckling, he notes your confusion and decides to fuel it by saying: “you're welcome. be my girlfriend.”

sanzu haruchiyo

“pick a colour: blue or red.”

“how about no!” hoisting up his daughter on your hip, you circle around the table making your way to the kitchen as you ignore his attempts of getting you to pick the drug of the day.

sanzu raises his eyebrow at you. you sure have a lot of nerve in front of someone that can easily kill you but he won't. why would he kill you when he isn't sure if he, sober!sanzu, loves you or if he, high!sanzu, is just fucking around.

eh, it's not like he's worried. that's something for future him to worry about!!

“sanzu, her formula's about to end!” shouting from the kitchen as you violently shake her bottle, you faced your focus more on the quiet eight month old rather than the twenty-eight years old father.

“is that all?” sanzu moves on arm behind the couch as he looks back at you. she's a natural with kids—especially mine, he thinks. he's going to blame the drugs for that even though he's very much sober.

“yeah, is it okay if i use your card? i need to stock up on the groceries too.” you explained, dropping a few droplets of the milk on your forearm to check the temp.

“why're you askin' me? it's your card. i took it out for you.”

“because i don't wanna—oh???” you paused. sanzu, your boss, couldn't have possibly taken out another card for you right? certainly, right? god, it's so hard to focus after he said those words. you try to not think too much of it but it's just too difficult.

lost in thought, you didn't realize that he's already in front of you, holding up his mini to give her a nose kiss before looking back at you.

“looks like she's finished. let's go.” walking towards to door, sanzu grabs his keys from the holder along with his mask.

“huh—oh, right her stuff. just a minute!” you can't seem to think coherently, not when those words still linger fresh in your mind.

maybe it's the drugs,

maybe it's you,

maybe it's him,

maybe it's the way he holds your hand firmly while smiling whenever an elderly lady compliments your little “family”,

or maybe it's the way he guides you into his room at night after his daughter fell asleep, pulling you into a kiss that answers all questions.

[almondmilktargaryen]

Duty & Sacrifice (Part One)

Summary: Aemond is married with two kids to Floris Baratheon, as it was his duty. But it's when he ventures into Flea Bottom in the night that he faces his sacrifices.

Couple: Aemond Targaryen/Fem!Reader

Category: Flangst

Content warnings: Cheating, mention of dead children

Word count: 2k

Also on my Ao3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four ✍️

The memory of Aemond’s mother holding a blade inches from Rhaenyra’s eye pops into his head whenever he plans to head into the city.  His mother’s thirst for justice and balance, for the sake of him, is an image he has never shaken.

“Where is duty!” He remembers.  “Where is sacrifice!”

And years later, with the Greens victorious and the Blacks slaughtered, sacrifice reveals its head here.  As Aegon takes rule on the Iron Throne as the one true king (according to future history books, not the people), and Helaena’s ashes rest in the sept with Jaehaerys, Aemond takes on his own sacrifice.

Well aware of his brother’s ineptitude (and reliance on the milk of the poppy), their grandsire assigns Aemond responsibility for helping train the Royal Army with Ser Criston,  as well as command the City Watch.  As much as Otto claims not to care for it, Aemond and Daemon were shockingly similar.  So there was no better person.  Aemond agrees with his grandsire but knows he only won the dragonback fight against his uncle because he was more disciplined.  He flew away on Vhagar unscathed in comparison because of his discipline.

Because Aemond understands duty and sacrifice.

And like his mother, he understands his role in the family and takes it seriously.

He wears his typical black leather attire whilst eyeing the hood in his wardrobe.  He’s even just about to grab it before his chamber doors groan loudly, the force of his two boys clamoring through to see him.  Baelon attacks his legs while little Daeron stumbles behind, forcing Aemond to submit and fall to his bed.  Aemond’s laughter mixed with the squeals of joy.  Before Baelon can sit on his chest again, he quickly sits up.  “Is it almost that time?” He asks them.

“Yes,” Baelon says. Aemond rises further and the boy rests against his father’s arm.  Aemond is sure that if he blinks, he’ll find his oldest suddenly tall enough to rest his head on his shoulder.  “Mother says I still have to go to bed when Daeron does.”

Aemond shrugs with an amused sigh.  He had learned through his oldest how much time children have to argue and dwell on their smallest of issues.  “Your mother’s rules are your mother’s rules.” He simply says.

“But I’m much older than Daeron.” He has used this argument multiple times on his father, yet Aemond remained delighted as his lips curled.  Aemond places a hand on his boy’s head and brushes over his matching Targaryen locks.  He’s letting them grow past his ears now.  Aemond has also learned his eight-year-old bends his will effortlessly, something powerful men with the most fearsome reputations and twice as many battle scars could not even dream of.  Meanwhile, his son achieves it with his mother’s eyes and little effort.

“I will speak to your mother about it tomorrow.” He grabs Baelon by the waist and lifts him to let his feet land on the stony floor.  “But for tonight, you must return to your chambers at the same time as your brother.”

“But Papa,” he drags out the last syllable.

“I will not hear it. Your mother--”

The doors echo again, and Princess Floris Baratheon steps in like she was summoned.  Her belly has already started swelling with their third child.  Despite what handmaidens and wet nurses have prepared her for, Floris has yet to discover any dreadfulness during her pregnancies.  Bards have written songs about her and each birth so far, claiming the Baratheon strength eases the process,  and the camaraderie between her and her sisters ensures strong sibling bonds for House Targaryen.  Aemond cannot disagree with the first, holding her hand throughout each labor.  Baelon took seven hours, and Daeron took four.  Not a scream, but Aemond was sure he’d witness her clenched teeth reduce to dust before the babies took their first breaths.  He brushed the hairs sticking to her brow and kissed her head and cheeks when she could finally sleep.  She deserved those songs, every lyric.

He has reason to doubt potential bonds, though, considering his relationship with Aegon.  His hope remains strong for his girls.

“Say goodnight to Papa, boys,” Floris says.

“But Papa thinks I should stay up late--”

“I said nothing of the sort.” He responds matter-of-factly.  “Listen to your mother or lose your negotiation opportunities.”

Baelon groans while Daeron giggles, following him out into the hall.

“Stay with Ser Criston, boys,” Floris tells them.  Her hands rest naturally on the bump as if her wrists missed it.  “I will be out in a second.”

When they disappear, Aemond keeps his expression light.  She still beams, and it helps.  “Best to head to them before the handmaidens snatch them up.”

“Yes.” She replies. “Though I’ve told them time and again to leave bedtime for me.”

Aemond puts a hand on her forearm and the other on her belly.  “You go on. I have a meeting concerning the City Watch.  I won’t be back until later.”

Floris maintains a radiant expression while nodding, despite the noticeable swallow in her throat.  When the door closes and he hears scampering pairs of feet grow farther in distance, he briefly questions going out, aware of his wife’s subtle yet looming suspicions.  But by the time he finally reaches out for his hood, he has already pushed the thought back.

Aemond follows the hills and dips of the cobblestone roads whilst keeping his head down and royal roots securely hidden.  He turns some corners sharply and holds his breath before advancing toward others.  He knows his path through Flea Bottom well, but the odors of sweat, rotting meat, as well as discarded piss and shit (in buckets and sometimes small piles) are all elements he has yet to get used to.  It would be a more straightforward path if he took the Street of Silk, but they both agreed they would never return there again if they had the choice.

The roads were dimly lit, and though dangerous men lurk more prominently at this late hour,  one stare down from Aemond and a good view of his eyepatch gets the message across that he is not one to be trifled with.  Not to mention his skills with a sword.  He claims not to care for his appearance, but hot-tempered or drunk men hesitate to come close when they see him.  It saves him time.

Aemond looks around for lingering faces in nearby windows before repeating the special rap at the door: three times, then two, then one.  He opens it, unlocked to his dismay, but his arrival was expected.  He enters anyway and moves the heavy metal bolt to secure it after an audible shut.

The small home is dimly lit, with barely room for a stewpot, let alone one bassinet.  Aemond can see a single flame burn near the bedside.  He follows it with the sound of his own name, as it’s spoken so sweetly from around the corner.

Radiance fills Aemond's sight: a mess of copper curls and a nightgown, and two swaddled babes in her arms.  An exhale leaves his lungs and nose as he comprehends the familiar sight.  “Welcome back.” She says softly, not to disturb the girls, or likely from her own lack of sleep.

“You know I hate it when you leave the door unlocked,” Aemond tells her.

“It’s too early in the night to worry about that.  They are all at the taverns and whorehouses.”

One of the girls starts fussing.

“You cannot be too naïve. If I’m not here to protect you like what happened at--”

“Oh, hush and get over here. Hold your children.” She tries to sit up properly.

Aemond presses his lips together and takes a seat on the small cot, bumpy and unpleasant, nothing he’s been unfamiliar with in the past eighteen months.  The comfort settles in him like a kindling fire when he gets to gaze upon his two girls.  United since birth, it is hard for their mother to nestle one while Aemond cradles the other.  But with every visit, they learn and adapt.  Now is no different, as Aemond reaches for the one closest to him: Alisha.  He’s studied the difference between them, staring at them still in the hours of the night, observing from the floor while their mother rested.  Small strands of white peek through the auburn, already beginning to curl.  Alyssa's hair is a blazing hue of ginger.

Aemond gives Alisha time to adjust in his arms.  She fusses but eventually settles.  Her eyes open gently, a dull brown.  Nothing special. Nothing Targaryen.  Alyssa is safe too. And her mother keeps her close with two arms now rather than one.  “Are you staying the night?” She asks Aemond.

“I certainly can.” He scoots closer, meeting her hip.  He brushes some strands behind her ear before cupping her face, bringing her in for a kiss.  It was gentle, and the longing was the same as their first night together where nothing more happened other than this; sitting and kissing.  They did not feel the need for anything else right away, understanding what the other had been through amidst long talks in the dead of night.  When things escalated, she showed him patience and love, despite his fears and questions.

Now he’s more confident with movements, as his hand traveled to the back of her neck to keep her close.  The brown eyes she blessed their daughters with stared back at him.  Her breath smelled like bowls of brown, and he did not mind.  “You know what I think you deserve?”

“Hmm.” She looks up toward the ceiling as she ponders.  Brown seeps from the corners, and Aemond has hesitated to ask.  She puts a hand to his face, just below the scar.  “I’m sure you’re eager to show me.”

“A house.”

“Oh.” She pulls back as her brows quirk.  “But I have a house, Aemond.”

“Not one you deserve, though.  This was just temporary, to get you off the Street of Silk.  You deserve comfort. A home where the girls can run around outside and fall asleep at night in proper beds.  Where danger doesn’t loom just outside that door.  No one would ever hurt them.” He kisses her again, and he feels her hesitate.

“How do you know no one will hurt them?  Will you be there?”

“Not all the time. But more than I would be now.  That I can promise.”

“Aemond--”

“I can assign guards to protect you when I’m not there.  Servants that understand discretion.  The girls will be happy and safe, well-provided for.” Prisoners in the black cells live more comfortably than she does,  with space to move and leftovers from royal dinners served to them (that was Helaena’s biggest request as queen, and Aemond pushed it on Aegon as an attempt to honor his late wife).  When he visits, Aemond sees how little she moves.  She hurts from sharing such a horrible cot with twin babes, and Aemond cannot do anything about it here.  “Please, my love. You’ve done so much for me.  Taught me so much. Let me do this for you.”

“You know what will happen if they find out.”

“Nothing will happen.”

“The last war was about bastards taking the throne.  People have been finding your brother’s bastards on the street.  They butcher any boy or girl with silver hair like livestock, left to rot in dark corners alone.  I know you’ve seen them.”

“And I would do everything in my power to make sure no one touches you.  I have a lot of power. And will.  I’ve protected you from horrid men before.  You cannot doubt I won’t do it again.”

Water lines her eyes. It glistens painfully in the candlelight as her palm falls from his face, his shoulder, and then his chest.  She keeps her voice steady. “You can’t have lost one eye, be so intelligent yet so blind,” she says.  “People see. People talk. Even in the fields where nothing happens.  It only gives them an excuse to be more vigilant.  To see a whore just show up from the capital with guards, servants, and two girls.  One with some silver in her hair and another with a purple eye.  What else would they think?”

Aemond pulls back. “Purple?”

She gives Alyssa her full attention once more, coaxing her to open her eyes.

“No, last time I was here, they were both brown.  Like Alisha’s. Yours.”

“This happens with babies sometimes, Aemond.  This is only month three.” She tries to keep herself together.  “The gods are in their right to punish us.  For what we’ve done here. In here.”

“No,” he simply says. “The gods have tested me before we met.  I’m used to their tests. And I’m used to prevailing, eventually.  I will do it again.”

“You can’t--”

“I will.” A surge runs through him, nothing dissimilar to when he went to war.  The simplistic instinct that comes with the will to survive.  When he was at war, there was one he relied upon from beginning to end, and even years before that.  Aemond is gentle as the surge flows through his veins.  “I can’t stay tonight.” He tells her.

“Where are you going?” She doesn’t try to hide the stress.

He gives her time to take Alisha back.  Alisha protests, but only momentarily.  With a flat palm on each, he brushes over the heads of the twins.  His gaze meets hers and he notices tears streaming halfway down her face.  He brushes them away, planting a kiss on her lips again, holding her by the neck once more.  He doesn’t speak a word until she looks him in the eye.  “I love you.” He’d say it with more of a tender demeanor if time was not of the essence now.  “With all my heart, I love you.  You made the grave mistake of letting a royal war hero fall in love with you, my dear.  The determination to keep you safe comes with that territory.”

Her head drops as tears finally do the same, dripping off the edge of her chin.  Aemond kisses her nose.

“I want to make you a home and keep you safe.  That’s not possible here. But it is possible.  For you. For them. It is possible.  I just need you to trust me.”

“I’m scared.” The whisper shakes from her, like dead leaves against the winter wind.  “Don’t leave me yet.” She holds the babies.  She can’t reach out to touch him, yet her arms try.

“I’m not leaving.” He kisses her lips again as if each one was a grant of safety from the gods.  He gave each one to her willingly, frivolously, like he was a god himself who had the power to control such things.  Because he did. He was a Targaryen.  It was close enough. “I will be back, I promise you.”

She still cries as he stands.  The babies too. And he cannot show how it breaks his heart, not now.  If he gives in and does what he truly wants, it will only be a problem when he wakes up here the next morning.  His eye stung with its own unshed tears, but he turned away regardless.  He took a long, steadying breath before heading toward the exit.  With a grip on the bolt, he commanded, “Lock this door.” He tried keeping his voice firm.  “And do not open it unless you know it’s me or a man named Ser Criston Cole, you hear me?”

She nods, and he can feel a tear slide down his cheek, mirroring her own.  He took in the image of the three before slipping out.  The door closed and hearing the heavy bolt provided some relief.

Then he stood there, longer than what was safe, yes.  The cold of Flea Bottom wrapped around him almost instantly, a biting chill of the desolate streets while the soft glow of candlelight shut out from him on the other side,  as it was not his to bask in for too long.

But even in the nearly black darkness of the narrow streets, he could spot one of them; a tiny figure huddled in the corner of a nearby alley, a broken skull with hair shorter than Baelon’s.  Royal blood left to soak into the cobblestone under his feet.  Bones exposed and rotted in the dark, forever cold, soon forgotten.

Aemond made haste to vanish into the shroud of night, swallowed by the fog.  Criston would be in his quarters at this hour, surely.  It was a straightforward path back if he took the Street of Silk.  And he didn’t have a choice.

[igotanidea]

five more minutes: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

I'm (not) sorry, but that smug face fits right into this fanfiction!!

request/summary: Dick getting clingy when the reader needs to go somewhere

A/N: so, I think I'm back? Two weeks break and I'm getting into the swing of things again, so please go easy on me with this story......

***

When she wakes up in the morning something seems off almost instantly.

It only takes a second to realise that said thing took the form of Dick Grayson, her beloved boyfriend, the man by day and the fearless vigilante by night. The protector of Gotham and its people.

Well, if only the people could see him now.

Sleeping in a weird position with the imprint of the pillow on his cheek, messy hair and some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth.

He so cute and adorable like that. Y/N does the quick scan of his face and body in the search for any injuries he might have obtained during the patrol but her heart rests easy when she noticed him being all in one piece with no blood or stiches. Either it was a quiet and peaceful night or he already took care of himself. Her bets are the latter, but since it’s work day she doesn’t really have any time to wait until he wakes up to blame him for not being careful.

As quiet and swift as she can, Y/N tries to move out of bed, but since Dick’s senses are heightened she doesn’t really get far, when his arms wraps around her, keeping her in place.

“Dick……” she mutters

“Mhmmmm……” he mumbles into the pillow

“Come on, I have get  up!”

“no you don’t.”

“I gotta get to work!”

“I’m the only work you need……” he grins, still half-asleep, but so full of himself and she almost rolls her eyes at the joke

“God, please stop…. I need to earn money you know? Not all of us have a billionaire daddy!”

“You’re dating the billionaire oldest son, isn’t that enough?”

She wonders for a moment. On a second thought maybe it is. Dick seems to use that heartbeat of hesitation, shifting his body weight on her, pinning her to bed, his eyes still closed, but this little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Dick!” she gasps feeling all those muscles crush her “shit!

“I like it when you call my name in such a desperate words. Do it just one more time and the neighbours will hate you forever.” He chuckles and his makes her skin tingle.

You’re heavy…..” she squirms trying to break free, but it’s no use. “You brought it on yourself….” The girl mutters poking on his ribs in the place where he’s extremely sensitive because of an old injury.

“Hey!” he yells, trying to defend himself and letting go off her in the process.

Y/N is quick to jump out of bed and rush towards her wardrobe, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt and struggling to put them on.

“Not so fast!” Dick tears her clothes from her hands and holds them high out of reach.

“Not fair Grayson!”

“You called me fat.”

“I called you heavy!’

“Same thing!”

“It’s not….. You know what, fine. I’ll just wear something else….” She shrugs and runs towards the drawer, but before she could reach it Dick grabs her from behind and holds her tight to him

“Dick…….” She whines stretching out just to grab something to wear. Anything.

“I know. I’m irresistible.”

“A pain in the ass is what you are!”

“I can make you breakfast….” He tempts

“You’re not Jason, Dick. Making me breakfast means putting cereals In the bowl and poring some milk over it in your dictionary. Cold milk. And that is only if I bought both cereals and milk.”

“did you?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Can’t you see how hard I’m trying? Just for you. Come on, you are like an employee  of the month. Or even a year. Stay…..” he kisses her neck playfully “you can call in sick.”

“I used all my sick days because of you.”

“How about casual leave?”

“and what may be the emergency?” she sighs in defeat, her body going limp as she drops the fighting knowing well enough she won’t win it. “Clingy boyfriend?”

“You called me boyfriend!” he grins again and she facepalms herself.

“We’ve been together for a year Dick. Why do you seem surprised?”

“I could never get bored with hearing that word from you. Makes me proud that you’re mine.”

“trying to sweet talk me? Won’t work. By the way, you are soooooo cheesy Grayson.”

“And?” he asks

“ And? What and?”  at this point Y/N is confused, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to meet his gaze

“And you love me?” he insist, spinning her around in his arms so that he can get easy access to her kissable face.

“Yeah…..” she smiles dreamily “yeah, I do love you, you idiot” she trails with a love sick puppy expression. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stay and be you babysi…..ah! Put me down!” she yells suddenly feeling her body lift of the ground without her knowledge or will. “Put me down Grayson! What are you……?! Damn it…!”

Dick does not listen or does not get impressed by her poor attempts to break free. He’s Nightwing. He’s got so many ways to immobilise the opponent. Or, in this case, lover.

“Dick I swear I am going to kick your ass if you don’t….!” the threat dies on her lips as he throws her onto the mattress and kisses her softly shutting her up in the process.

“Stay?” he pouts looking at her with those pretty doe eyes “Pretty please?”

“You act like a five year old!”

“A five year old that wants you. A five year old that misses you…”

“I’ll be back, you know……” she brush the strand of hair from his face. She’s already gone but still tries to keep the appearances.

“Yeah, at 6 p.m. or later. It’s almost the time when I get ready for my night shift…… Please…..”he whines nuzzling his nose over her neck “stay…..”

“please…..” she mimics his whining, caressing his cheek “let me go……”

“But I need you…….” He hide his face in her belly and his hair tickle

“Why do you always need me when I am supposed to go to work?’

“It’s a terrible and uncontrollable disease…..” he laughs

“Is there a cure?” she laughs back

“I can think of something….” He closes the gap between them, nibbling on her bottom lip. “and it may be working…. But I;m not sure. Need some more testing” he repeats his action. “Mhm, yes, it’s definitely working… You don’t want me to be sick, do you?”

“Not really. You are whiny and attention seeker when you are sick.”

“I am not!” he shouts in denial “ok, maybe I am. A little. But come on, you can stay some more time with me……”

“How long, dickie?” she smiles at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“five more minutes?”

“ok. Five more minutes. She sighs deeply, letting go of any of her objections, letting Dick lay beside her and act like a big spoon, while holding her tight to his chest and caressing her sides and belly.

“You’re not letting me go, are you?” she whispers closing her eyes and getting lost in his touch.

“Never.”

And she’s pretty sure she can live with that.  

[twice-inamillion]

Momo in the Studio

Smut (dirty talk, sex, penetration, creampie, sex crazy momo)

Chapter 216

1,570 Words

(OC and Momo spend some time in the studio. They work together on some lyrics but gets messy in the end. 😏)

After arriving in Korea, you have spent most of your time in the studio. The members use their time at the company for dance practice or to work on lyrics for songs they want to submit for the next album.

Momo is one of those who is excited to show you some lyrics she wrote for a potential song.

“Amazing work, Momo. How did you come up with this?”

“Really? It’s good?”

“Yeah, it gives a different vibe.”

“Thanks! Hmm… I went around and asked unnie for help.”

“Nayeon and Jeongyeon?”

“I can’t say, but they gave me some pointers.”

“Thank them because I can see this as a potential song.”

The two of you spent a couple of hours in the studio trying out some potential beats. Momo became interested in the process and stuck to you like glue. “So if you change this, it gives a different vibe to the song? It’s supposed to be a love and hate type of song, but it’s also kind of hot,” as Momo presses her breast to your arm.

“I think we can emphasize more on these words” as you mention the words “Love, I love you, love you, hate, foolish.”

“Yes, like you love someone and hate them too, seems like a hot way to have sex.”

“You must be sex crazy.”

Momo looks at you with lustful eyes, “It’s because I’ve only used my fingers and toys. You haven’t been filling me up as of lately.”

“You know how busy we’ve been. The wedding and the tour.”

She pushes your chair and gets on top of you, “Still, you could have given me a good fucking. Don’t think Jihyo would mind.” You know that she’s teasing you, and it’s working.

She notices you staring at her chest, “Wanna see my tits, Oppa?” Momo doesn’t wait for an answer and takes off her shirt, revealing her beautiful breasts held by a thin bra. She slowly undoes her bra and tosses it onto the nearby chair.

With her large nipple in front of you, it doesn’t take much for you to shove your face to her breast. You attach yourself to her nipple and suckle. Momo moans loudly and says, “Oppa, there’s no milk; I’m not Jihyo.”

You don’t respond and keep on focusing on her breast and move to the other. You place her nub between your teeth and give a slight bite. Momo cries from her nipple getting bitten and digs her nails into your arm.

After detaching yourself, Momo unbuttons your shirt and tosses it to the floor. She gets off of the chair, starts to undo the remainder of her clothes, and moves to remove your pants.

When she removes your boxers, your cock springs out hard. Momo looks at you with hunger in her eyes and says, “fuck, I missed your cock so much.” She gives it a few pumps and gets back on your lap.

You see Momo grab your cock and aligns it to her entrance. You ask, “No foreplay?” Momo looks at your crazed eyes, “No, I just want your cock in me, now,” and lowers herself to take in your head. She moans to the tip of your cock inside her, “Ooh, that feels so good, and it’s just the tip.” She lets the remaining of her weight go, and her cunt swallows your whole length.

“Fuck! You’re stretching me wide open!” Momo arches her back from the sudden pain of your massive cock invading her hungry womb.

She doesn’t hesitate to bounce on your cock aggressively. Momo grunts and moans loudly to your thick cock, spreading her walls wide open. “I hate you; you make me such a bad girl. You make me feel like I’m high.”

You notice her spouting out some of the lyrics of her songs as she rides you like a bull and you decide to tease her a bit. “Why do you hate me?”

Momo, with her hands fondling her massive breasts, yells, “I hate how Jihyo has you wrapped around her little fingers. She shouldn’t have you all for herself; she needs to share with the rest of us!”

She continues to ride your cock as you enjoy the show. Her perfect breast bounces right in front of you, “fuck, Momo. I love your breasts; I just want to milk them dry.”

“Only way you’ll get that is if you breed me,” giving you a smirk.

“You would want that, huh.”

“Yes! I enjoy the feeling of hot cum inside my womb.”

“I want to see you become a complete mess,” place your hands on her butt and stand up. With her arms wrapped around your neck, she holds on for dear life. You begin to fuck her in a stand-and-carry position as you walk to lock the door of the studio. You walk back and press the “recording in session” button to ensure that no one bothers the both of you.

“Make sure you fill me up real good, okay.”

You stand in the middle of the studio and fucking her mercilessly. Momo lets her full voice out as she grunts and moans loudly. “Just like that! Fuck me with your big, fat cock. Mess up that slutty pussy of mine.”

You give her a heavy slap on her ass and increase the pace of your thrusting. She digs her nails deep into your back, “Ahh… you’re going to make me addicted to your cock. Don’t stop, please.”

“Tell me where you like my cock.”

“Ahh… in my cunt.”

“Where?”

“I said in my cunt!

“I can’t hear you.”

“I said, I like it when you fuck me in my tight little cunt with that big fat cock of yours!”

“See it’s not so hard.”

You decide to change up the pace and let her do all the work. Momo uses her strength to bounce on your cock as she avoids falling. “Oppa, don’t let me do all the work; I’m about to fall.”

“You’re doing a good job, Momo. Just keep going, okay?” as you kiss her on the lips. She’s surprised from the sudden kiss and giggles, “Okay, but make sure you give me a reward after for doing all the work.”

Momo continues to bounce on you for what feels like an hour. As time goes by, her rhythm goes slowly, and her breathing becomes heavier. “Oppa, I can’t hold on anymore. My arms are about to give up.” She presses her head onto your chest and is entirely out of energy. You lift her up, pull out and reinsert your cock and do some slow but hard thrusts.

“In or out?”

She lifts her head and shyly whispers, “In.”

You walk towards the couch across the studio and slowly place on the sofa into a mating press. Standing in front of Momo, you get on your knees and tease her with your cock by tracing your head against her lips. With your cock in hand, you slap it on her cunt before inserting it back inside. You hold her legs up to her head and thrust yourself deep inside.

“Oh fuck!! Fuck… fuck… you’re too rough. You’re going to mess me up.”

“You told me to mess you up, so here it is. Take it like a good girl.”

Momo bites her lip as she feels the tip of your cock reaching the deepest part of her womb. She doesn’t resist and whines, “Cum inside me already; I want to feel it in my…”. You don’t let her finish her sentence as you pull out and slam yourself once more. Her eyes widen as she pulls her womb gets pumped with a large amount of thick hot cum.

“Hmm….fuck! Keep pouring that hot baby batter inside my slutty cunt!”

You watch as her belly grows bigger by the amount of cum you’re pouring inside of her. “You’re taking it like a good girl, Momo,” as you watch her satisfied face. You give her one last thrust before pulling out.

“Woah, you look so hot,” as you watch Momo’s creampie. “I really did a number on you,” as she lays on the couch with her legs spread wide open. You see a thick trail of cum oozing out and dripping onto the sofa and on the floor, creating a small puddle.

You walk to Momo and ask, “Hold a peace sign. I want to take a picture.” Momo holds a peace sign with both hands, sticks her tongue out, and rolls her eyes back.

“Haha, you really know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

Momo laughs at your comment, “I wouldn’t know. You’re the only guy I’ve been with.” You can’t help but smile and thank Jihyo for allowing you to play with her “sisters.”

You stare at Momo’s delicious body and see a slight bulge in her tummy. You give her belly a hard press and see a large amount of cum gush out of Momo’s used cunt.

With her two fingers, she traces her folds and collects as much cum as it can hold. She puts it in her mouth and says, “Tastes so good, it’s sweet,” as she licks her fingers clean.

[daenysx]

hi! could you write something for dad!aemond where alyssa watches a horror film for the first time and wakes him up in the middle of the night bc of a nightmare? thank u already, i love your writing and your modern!aemond stuff so much <3

thank you, angel ♡ i hope you enjoy

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

"wake up." someone whispers to aemond's ear. it's definitely not you, it takes him a few seconds to process a sound coming from his blindside.

"dad, wake up."

oh, there she is. aemond blinks his eye open and the sight of his daughter's silver hair in two frizzy braids welcomes him. she doesn't do that usually, coming into her parents' room in the middle of the night. she's almost 7, claims she's a big girl to get through the nights herself.

"what's wrong?" aemond asks, sleep dripping from his voice. he holds your hand as you reach for him in your rest. "what happened?"

"i can't sleep." alyssa says, softly. her eyes look huge under the moonlight.

aemond sits on bed carefully to not wake you up. he reaches for his girl. "do you want some milk, baby?"

"please." alyssa leans against his legs. "chocolate milk."

"we have to be silent, okay? mommy and aelyx are still sleeping."

alyssa holds her dad's hand as they walk to the kitchen in the darkness. the kitchen lights bother aemond's eye for a brief moment and then he gets to take in the sight of his daughter as she clings onto him.

"up you go." aemond lifts her so that she can sit on the counter. it's her favorite thing to do in the kitchen, sitting there as she watches her parents cook. he heats up a glass of milk quickly, stirring the chocolate mix alyssa likes into it. she doesn't say anything, which is a bit unusual. she'd definitely ask for more chocolate normally. aemond tries to keep his face cool.

he gives her the chocolate milk in her favorite glass, the one with winnie the pooh picture on it. she accepts it with a small thank you, drinking it in silence as aemond cleans up the little mess he made.

he catches alyssa's gaze on him as if she wants to say something. he waits for her, doesn't try to get the words out of her mouth. she takes her time, though, her sips get lingered as much as they can.

at the end, she has no choice but finishing the milk. she gives her glass to aemond, her pretty eyes watching the floor. aemond stands in front of her, holding her small hand and rubbing his thumb on the back of it.

"i had a nightmare." she starts saying. aemond nods first. "do you wanna tell me about it?" he asks.

"it was- about this movie i saw with gracie today." alyssa explains but she still seems hesitant. "her brother told her the name of the movie and she showed me some of it."

"okay." aemond whispers, his hand still holding hers. "what was it about?"

"um- it was a horror movie, dad." she finally says. "i didn't like it, i couldn't understand what was it about, really, but i'm- i saw the scenes of it in my nightmare."

her eyes fill with slow tears and aemond loses his mind just a bit right there. it always happens when she tears up. he quickly hugs her, her arms wrapping around his waist as much as she can.

"it's okay." he says, his thumb drying up the tears. "don't cry, baby, it's okay."

"i don't want to be a coward."

"you're not a coward just because you didn't like a horror movie." he says, softly. she's too much like his young self. "you don't have to enjoy everything you see."

"but gracie's brother was saying his friend is a coward because he got scared."

"i think gracie's brother is wrong." he does a good job being cool with a kid's ideas that clearly upset his girl, right? "many people don't like horror movies, that doesn't make them cowards, right?"

"really?"

"you know," he smiles. "i remember the first time uncle daeron saw a horror movie with us. it wasn't all that bad but he got so scared at night, he insisted to sleep in uncle aegon's bed."

"did he accept it?" alyssa asks, interested in the story.

"yes, actually. they slept in his room that night and after that everything was okay. no one made fun of daeron. well, except aegon of course, but that doesn't count."

finally she stops pouting and puts on a gorgeous, sleepy smile for her father. he takes her in his arms, carrying her to his room. "why don't you sleep in our bed tonight? i'm sure mommy will be happy about it."

alyssa nods, burying her head to aemond's shoulder. he puts her in the middle of the warm bed carefully. you blink your eyes open, trying to understand what's happening. "aemond?"

"we have a guest, sweetheart." aemond fixes the covers for the three of you. you give your girl a sleepy kiss on her cheek. "everything okay?" you ask.

"yes." he answers. "go back to sleep."

alyssa's hand stays still in her daddy's palm. if the monsters in the movie come looking for her, he will fight them off.

[the-fiction-witch]

A Star P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sweet Word Count - 748

As the night deepened, Aegon kept a watchful eye over Orion any time he so much as wiggled Aegon was there looming over the crib. Although his own eyes were tired and heavy, he diligently remained by the baby's side. When it reached the hour of the wolf, Aegon gently picked up Orion and carried him into the bedroom and gently began to awake Y/n, just as promised. He knew she must be feeling exhausted and did feel bad for waking her but he didn’t want to call the milk maid in to feed baby Orion without at least asking Y/n how she felt about it given Orion had only been at Y/n’s breast since birth. "Y/n, it's time... Orion is hungry," he said gently, his voice soft but determined.

She yawned and sat up in bed a little she rubbed her eyes and opened her arms for the baby almost as instinct,

Aegon nodded and carefully placed Orion in her arms. The baby let out soft mewling noises, clearly hungry. As she took Orion into her embrace, Aegon positioned a pillow behind her back to provide some additional support. He knew that feeding time could be physically demanding, especially after giving birth and he sat himself down on the bed ready to help out any more if needed,

she sighed and pulled down her dress, it took a good few attempts to get Orion to latch to her breast but finally the baby began to drink and she sat trying to relax but her eyes squeezed tight from the pain

Aegon watched as she struggled to nurse Orion. He could see the pain etched on her face as the baby latched on. It was evident that the process was not easy, and he felt a pang of guilt for not being able to fully understand the pain she was going through. He gently rubs her back and trying to provide some comfort. "Is there anything I can do to help, or anything you need?" He asked softly, genuinely,

"you could grow breasts that would help," she joked in her tried state,

Aegon chuckled softly, "Ah, I'm afraid that's not in my power. If I could grow breasts and feed our son, I would do so in a heartbeat." He continued to gently rub her back, offering what little solace he could provide during this moment. "I wish I could take some of this pain away from you."

"It's alright it shall only get easier," she said, "Could you fetch me a drink I should really drink when he feeds so it has time before the next feeding I don't want little boy to find the teats are tapped out,"

Aegon chuckled lightly at the request, nodding in agreement. "Of course, I'll fetch you a drink. Do you have any preferences or should I just bring you something sweet and warm?" He carefully rose from his seat, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder before making his way out of the room to fetch you the desired beverage.

"Whatever you have… but wine would be nice. Strong wine"

Aegon smiled at her request for strong wine, appreciating the straightforwardness. He quickly made his way to the nearby table and made a goblet up of strong wine. As he walked back to the room, he couldn't help but chuckle a little at the sight. His wife sitting there nursing a small infant, so he hands the goblet over, "There you go... strong and intoxicating just as you wanted."

“Thank you, Your Grace,” She nodded immediately drinking about half of the goblet,

“You don’t have to call me that, you’re my wife, mother of our child,” He told her,

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, just Aegon,”

“Yes, you- Aegon.” She nodded, “Ohh all done, he wasn’t as hungry as he thought he was,” she said taking Orion away,

“I’ll take him,” he smiled happily taking little Orion again and wiping the milk from his mouth, “oh look at you, milk all down yourself,” He chuckled, “he really is like a little drunk,”

“Umm he’ll be milk drunk now, needs burping and a nap,”

“Alright, I’ll burp him and put him down. You get some more rest,”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure, you rest I’ll handle him.” he smiled kissing her cheek before he puts Orion on his shoulder and behind to burp the baby on his way back to the main part of their chamber,

“Aegon?”

“Yeah?” He turned,

“Be gentle,”

“I will I promise,”

“And… thank you,”

“You’re very welcome Y/n,” He blew her a kiss before closing the bedroom door,

[minhosimthings]

Saturday Adventures

Synopsis: Saturday meant your daily lattes with a foam bear drawn on top. What you didn't expect was your cafe boy crush to fuck the mind out of you on that Saturday.

Pairings: Sunghoon × fem!reader, includes Jay from Enhypen (not in the smut part)

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, fingering, brief sex against the wall, overstimulation, swearing, fluff at the beginning, mention of food, Sunghoon calls reader 'princess', 'pretty girl' and 'darling', p inside v, size kink, protected sex

A/N: let me give you the briefing in brief, Mona brain go brr, Mona decided to write

When Sunghoon signed up on his brother's offer to volunteer at the family cafe, he had never expected to meet the person he'd be calling his, for the rest of his life.

"Park Sunghoon are you paying attention?" Jay waved his hands in front of Sunghoon, gripping a coffee cup very tightly is his hands as younger brother stared off into the distance, milk in his hand. "Yes I am for god's sake." Sunghoon sighed, "Your voice is like drilling machines in my head Jongsoeng."

Jay rolled his eyes and stared out to where Sunghoon's eyes were set. "You're waiting for her aren't you?" A mere question escaped from Jay's lips, which seemed to sadden Sunghoon even more.

"She usually comes by this time." Sunghoon checked the watch on his wrist. His father's watch, he reminded himself, an article he was very much proud of. "Y/N isn't it?" Jay questioned again, wiping the coffee cup with a rag, "Maybe if you pay attention to me and learn how to make a foam animal, you can impress her. She does like bears on her coffee a lot."

Sunghoon groaned and averted his eyes from the door to watch Jay carefully pour the milk foam into the light brown latte, the foam spreading around the liquid like clouds swirling around a bright blue sky. It was mesmerizing to him, how his family so easily poured the foam to form beautiful figurines that the girl that usually comes by at six pm enjoys. He loved watching your beautiful face, become giddy with excitement as you took your bear-decorated coffee from him at the front counter.

"Your lover is here."

Jay's words exploded like an atom bomb inside of Sunghoon's mind, his head whipping around to the chiming of the bells. He always liked those bells. Christmas, was it, that he bought them? Or halloween?

"Hey." You smiled up at Jay at the front counter, "The usual please Jongsoeng." "You're late today." Jay smiled back at you, waving a hand to his brother at the back to start brewing up the tiny brown beans, "Sunghoon was sweating his ass off." You let out a tiny laugh at that, taking a tiny peek at the apron clad man working silently behind Jay. Broad shoulders, beautiful curls of hair, perhaps the most amazing arms you've ever had the pleasure to witness, and a solemn face working with his hands frantically checking the machine in front of him, if he was hell's incarnate, it mattered not for you.

"Tell him I'm staying over a bit late tonight. Got some work to finish." You said, as Jay handed you your bill, "Gotta work late." "That's great." Jay winked at you, "He's the one who works the night shifts before shutting the cafe." He shoots you a small grin with all of his teeth on display, "Have fun."

Sunghoon's eyes and mind couldn't process anything as he watched you type away on your laptop, brows furrowed, coffee cup empty. The soft lighting from the cafe's lights illuminated your face well, frustration evidently wrapping your face into its cocoon.

Jay had left earlier that he usually does and now, at ten pm, Sunghoon had nothing to do except stare at you, and attempt to make a bear on a latte. Practice made a man perfect, but for Sunghoon, it just made him tired.

One drop, then two, then another and the bear formed at last! Sunghoon stared at it in disbelief, it was perfect. Now, the task was just to carry it over to you, and give it to you with a solemn expression that did not scream 'i am infatuated with you, even when you are a complete stranger'.

"Miss?" Sunghoon tapped your table with uncertainty, "Your refill." He set his tray down on the table, where the coffee cup stood with perfect stillness, the tiny foam bear springing with delight. Your eyes flickered to Sunghoon's for a moment, before settling on the bear.

"You made a bear." You stated simply, talking the warm cup into your hands, "And please, call me Y/N."

"Y/N." Sunghoon repeated, the name falling off of his lips like an ill forgotten melody, "I'll leave you to your bears." The smile that escaped your lips at his joke, looked like heaven to him.

"Are you single"

Unfortunately the human mind sometimes randomly blurts out whatever it wants, when it is in closed proximity. And your mind did exactly that.

Sunghoon's eyes widened at you, his brows reaching the top of his silver hair. His fingers fumbled with the tray in his hands, as he stared into your soul. "Y-yeah." He spoke, stepping closer to your table, slipping into the seat opposite you.

"Damn im single too." You awkwardly laughed, "We have so much in common." Flirting was never much of your forte, and it evidently showed as Sunghoon's ears (and yours) turned bright red.

"Oh what a coincidence!" Sunghoon said, in an awfully cheery tone. A minute passed as you both of you looked at each other with solemn faces before bursting out laughing.

"I am literally so sorry." You said in between fits of laughter, looking over at Sunghoon's eyes, which were crinkled to form crescent moons, which, in your humblest opinion shone brighter.

"It's alright." Sunghoon said, before glancing out the glass door, "It's getting late, you should get home." You checked your watch. Eleven pm. It indeed was getting late.

"Oh yeah." You quickly shoved your laptop into your bag, before looking down at the undrunk bear latte. "What about this little guy?" You picked up the cup, carefully handling it. Sunghoon smiled at you gently and led you over to the counter, ignoring your protests of paying for it to be packed up. "I'm not letting a pretty girl like you pay for that." He smiled, handing you the cup, "Plus its Saturday we have a nonexistent policy of not letting women pay on Saturday after ten pm."

God his lips.

"I'll take your word for it then." You laughed, "Don't blame me if Jay scold you tomorrow though." Sunghoon scoffed and stepped closer. "He's not at tough as he looks, darling. Trust me, I'm the more rough one."

Darling leapt out of his mouth like a beautiful chord struck on a Grandstien piano. His hair fell perfectly on his face, illuminating all the correct spots, like a painting.

"Can I kiss you?"

You had been taught in your psychology class that the human mind often knows when to shut up, bar a few exceptions. You had never known such exceptions before, until now, when you realised that you were the exception.

Sunghoon's hand travelled to his neck, scratching it awkwardly before looking at you with snake eyes. "Why not?" He chuckled lowly, "Who am I to refuse a pretty girl's kiss?"

His lips were surprisingly soft, an ice cream touch to your lips. It was a sort of cold comfort, one you enjoyed thoroughly, as Sunghoon's hands ghosted over your waist. Although you tried to ignore the sticky feeling between your thighs, you couldn't help but let out an unholy noise into his lips, as his fingers gripped your waist so hard.

"Fuck Sunghoon." You gasped, as the bulge in his pants pressed tightly against your pussy.

“Sunghoon,” you brokenly whisper, your voice would be bordering on whiny with all the neediness that comes with it, “please, I need you.” The pleading look you give him is vulnerable, if not desperate.

Sunghoon had you pressed against the wall the minute your voice left your throat, peppering kisses down your neck, you waist being held hostage by his hands. You didn’t try to stop him.

“Such a good slut for me, aren't you princess?” He moved his hand to run between your soaking folds. You bit your lip at the feeling, feeling his fingers graze your clit before dipping to rest against your entrance. He tapped it twice before pulling away completely, moaning at the loss you turned to face him. Unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon had moved his head so that when you turned, his lips would brush against yours. You whimpered at the feeling and pushed your lips against his. Allowing him to take the control, he deepened the kiss- stroking your mouth with his tongue. You could feel him trying to pull away and whimpered before trying to keep the kiss going, he laughed again at your neediness. “Now, now princess, you don’t want me to fuck you against this door, do you?”

"This is a cafe, Hoon." You let out a breathless sentence, "Where are you gonna find a bed?" Sunghoon chuckled into your face, his hot breath hitting your neck, before easily lifting you up. "There's a room at the back darling, let me fuck you properly like you deserve."

Sunghoon's kisses were devastatingly sweet, as he laid you gently on the bed, quickly slipping on a condom from his bedside table, not before asking you for permission if he could fuck you or not.

This tenderness didn’t last long though, the gentleness quickly transforming feverish and greedy, moans vibrating from both your chests and your bodies suddenly burning. When you both pull away, you feel his fingers slip under the straps of your tanktop and slide them off your shoulders. “Get this off,” he demands breathlessly, and you comply , stripping for him hastily.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and you whimper at his words, clit throbbing at the thought of being fucked by a man you've only admired from afar.

He presses his hand against the plush of your inner thigh and spreads your legs, using his other hand to pump his cock with languid strokes.

You mewl feeling him drag the tip of his fat cock in between your folds, mushing it and teasing it against your clit sending pleasure coursing througch your body and making you throw your head back with a whimper.

feverishly, he runs his length over your slick folds, grunting as you rocked your hips to meet his touch. After a few intense minutes, with desperate teasing and soft moans slipping from your glossy lips, you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm building rapidly. suddenly, he pulls away, making you to whimper at the sudden loss of friction. But before you can protest, he silences you with a brief kiss.

“‘M gonna put it in, okay?” he murmurs hotly, lining up the tip of his cock against your hole before gently pressing the aching tip inside.

Your mouth hangs into an ‘o’ shape, eyes pinched shut as he slowly sinks his cock into your core. You squirm and whimper as you tread the line between pain and pleasure, walls fluttering as his hips press against the back of your thighs. the feeling of being filled fully by Sunghoon sends you into a daze everytime, and he’s so deep inside you can almost feel him in your throat.

“g-god, you’re so big,” you whimper, face flushed as your body adjusts to his huge size. The initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. He felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting. Sunghoon sucks in air between his gritted teeth sharply as your tight walls clamp down on him, engulfing him in your warmth and sucking him in. While he gives you a second to adjust, he slides his hands under the backs of your thighs, feeling your cold skin hit his warm one.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“You’re so fucking good.” Sunghoon groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice.

Sunghoon was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this?” Yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? Such a good fucking girl.” You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

“Are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, His wish was your command, because then you were gushing. The one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. Maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

"Fucking hell." Sunghoon groaned, falling next to you on the bed. The room came to light properly to you now, and you noticed all the Sunghoons staring at you from the shelves.

"Hoonie?"

"Yes princess?"

"Did you just fuck me in your childhood bedroom?"

Sunghoon chuckled and turned to look at you, his hair slightly parted, and his lips wet. "Nah." He pulled himself closer to you, "This is just a room Jay and I like to call our den. You know, for keeping old childhood stuff and I figured, since this was the only place here where there's a bed, it would be a... much better place to fuck you than the floor. But I do admit-" he shuddered, "looking at my brother's old pictures staring at us is very creepy."

You giggled into his chest, as you felt sleep hit your mind. You yawned, and settled yourself comfortably into his arms, warmth enclosing you, like a fur coat or like a boy carefully drawing a bear on your coffee every Saturday.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

(dad!eddie munson and mom!reader as young parents)

more of the penny verse here • eddie edit © @fefemunson!

Summary. . . You admire your new baby girl. warnings: none, just fluff a/n: eddie and reader are about 20 and 21 (i also feel the need to express eddie exhibits Sagittarius traits so i'm thinking he had to have been born in december, kinda close to capricorn cause he looks evil but he's not) and some cuteness before I give you angst with 'Wayne's World'. enjoy! let me know what you think? ◡̈

“So…how you liking it out here?” You asked, propped on your stomach and resting on your forearms.

  Your daughter, only six days old, stared back up at you, small plump lips parted. She still looked so new and a little wrinkly.

  “There’s not a single thought in your adorable little head, is there?” You stroked over her soft hair—she’d come out with a full head of it—mindful of her delicate head and softspot. Penny blinked once, hard, at the gentle caress, but continued to marvel at you, the big brown eyes she’d inherited from her father were so wide that her forehead was squishing up towards her adorable hairline.

  The television was on, more so for background noise as the volume was very low. Eddie was asleep in the bedroom, he’d taken it upon himself to let you get as much rest as possible—always insisting on getting up in the middle of the night to gather Penny when she became fussy. She didn’t do too much, wasn’t all that active yet. If she wasn’t fussing, she was attached to one of your nipples or sleeping. In the four days since you’d brought her home, she hadn’t done a whole lot of sleeping during the convenient times for her new parents. No, she slept during the day and was up all night.  

  Eddie was so good with her, though. Took the screaming like a champ, it was so fascinating to you that she couldn’t produce actual tears yet but it still hurt your heart to hear her cry. He’d just take off his shirt and hold her to his chest, skin to skin seemed to calm Penny down, and you’d pumped enough to have overnight supplies of milk for her when your nipples were too sore to handle Penny’s nursing, though you didn’t mind when he stirred you from sleep to settle Penny against your breast so she could eat.

  That was about the only time Eddie did wake you. Giving birth had drained you, you knew it was gonna be uncomfortable and take a lot out of you but you hadn’t anticipated the lack of energy you’d have in the days following as well, and you hadn’t voiced it but Eddie knew you. Sometimes, you thought he knew you better than you knew yourself.

  It was surprising when you woke before him, feeling well rested instead of drained. You’d quietly gotten out of bed, careful not to wake him, to check on Penny, and for once, she was up at a normal time, too. 

  Eddie looked exhausted, breathing deep as he slept so you decided it was time to start bonding with your baby more. A little mommy-daughter time.

  After changing her diaper and feeding her, you got yourself dressed and ready, put her in a cute little onesie and folded a blanket on the carpet in the living room to lay her down. 

  You hadn’t realized there wasn’t a whole lot to do with a newborn until half an hour had passed with you two staring at each other, really taking each other in. You studied her and while you didn’t think she had a whole lot of brain processing power, you had a feeling she was trying to figure you out, too. As more than just her food source, anyways. Sometimes her stare would go soft, eyelids looking heavy before they were wide open again as if you’d done something to startle her out, it was kind of funny. 

  “You know, you’re pretty cute but you’re kind of boring,” You teased, fingers trailing down her little side until you reached her onesie covered foot and your ovaries cried at how small it was. You pressed your thumb gently just below her teeny tiny toes and like the little alien she was, they curled in on it in a way she probably wouldn’t be able to do in a few months, newborn flexible-ness.

  “All you heard was cute, huh?”

  Seemingly in response, because of course your daughter knew her cues, she was Eddie Munson’s baby after all, she began to suckle on nothing, lips miming the motion. You grabbed her pacifier and held it to her lips, giggling when she mouthed at it until it was settled and she looked content. 

  You beamed down at her, thumb stroking over the pad of her foot before pressing a kiss to it. And since you were kissing her foot you just had to show those chunky (god you wanted to bite them) cheeks some love, pressing your lips noisily and repeatedly against her face.

  Penny let you have your fun, the eye of her cheek you were focused on forced to squint as the chubb of it spread with the pressure of your kisses.

  You’d been expecting her to smell good, a baby survival mechanism to entice people to want to take care of her, but you had no idea how obsessed with it you’d become. You just wanted to bottle the newborn smell up so you could have it forever. Once you were done kissing her face, your nose trailed up her head to sniff at her hair where the scent was the strongest. You inhaled deeply, very much so exaggerated and let out an even more dramatic sigh before you pulled away to look down at her.

  “I’ve never done it, but you’re better than crack,” You swore.

  “Neither have I and I agree.” A raspy voice responded from behind you.

  You rolled onto your side, glancing over your shoulder to see Eddie leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, lips curled into a smile and sleep still lingering in his eyes.

  “You know, it’s really hot when you linger in doorways like that, but it’s also kind of creepy, Eddie.”

  The sleepy look quickly morphed into a mischievous one, “You think I’m hot?”

  “So, that’s what you’re gonna take from that? You already know I think you’re hot. Exhibit A,” You gestured down to his baby you’d popped out less than a week ago. 

  Eddie laughed and joined you on the floor, lips pursed in exaggeration once he was settled. You were all too happy to lean in, pressing your lips firmly against his. It was clear he’d just been expecting a quick peck when he let out a sound of surprise before you felt the curve of his smile which in turn made you smile.

  You felt so doped up on love; you had Eddie, who you thought would be the greatest love of your life, and now you had the baby you two made, proof of your love (an accidental one but still) and also proof that you could be wrong, since she turned out to be the other great love of your life. Despite the late nights, sore nipples and how peeing was somewhat of a chore while your stitches healed, life was bliss.

  “Mmm,” Eddie hummed when you pulled away, eyes still closed and that smile still plastered on his face. Then he groaned, head dropping. “These are going to be the longest six weeks of my life, I just know it.”

  You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you sat up and carefully lifted Penny. She was so doll-like, ugh, you loved her so much. You turned her in your grasp, a hand cradling the back of her head and neck while your other supported her bottom as you pressed her cheek against yours, the both of you facing Eddie.

  “But isn’t this worth it?” 

  There wasn’t any humor behind the reply he rasped out, his features morphing into the tender expression that always made you feel breathless, like you were important to him, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

[shalomniscient]

excuse me 🔊 excuse me lady with a breeding kink coming through 🔊 excuse me

arlecchino isn't only an extremely responsible father but also a responsible and caring husband. she might look quite dull and cold but once her child is born she lets a tiny bit of her feelings slip through the mental cracks your childbirth left on her mind even in public.

she's tough and rough but she absolutely adores your daughter and – the powerful and intimidating woman she is – arle's definitely ready to play dress up or tea partying with her baby girl when she grows up a bit. but arlecchino is a busy woman as well... and her little bundle of joy will need someone to play with, right? so, after a few months from the childbirth arlecchino suggests making a nice cute sibling for your little one. she's aware that your body needs time to recover and she does her best to speed up the healing process.

your pelvic muscles are now flabby, of course, it was your first child ever! and that's no good if you want to make another baby. so, arlecchino insists on you performing kegel exercises. but instead of a toy she gives you... her dick! it's nice and thick and she doesn't shove it all the way in, so it doesn't hurt your still aching womb, but this way she can control the amount of effort you put into these exercises!

it feels hot and overwhelming, you're trying not to make much noise as your baby's sleeping right behind the wall in her cradle (she has all the best nannies in the world to take care of her at night, so you can rest). you are nowhere close to your climax, arle simply won't let you cum until you complete your exercises properly.

«the last set was hideous. come on, doll, do not upset me», she squeezes the meat of your legs and plunges a tiny bit deeper, growling into your ear. «try one more time, do it better». your walls squeeze her, then relax, squeeze and relax... her tip rubs so deliciously against your spongy spot, it's almost unbearable. she presses her palm to your lower belly – gently not to hurt your still soft tummy but firmly to feel your muscles.

«give me ten more and then i will probably make up my mind and let you cum», she whispers and sighs as she feels another particularly strong squeeze around her cock. «good girl, now nine more. do it properly»

you were never really into sports but these exercises... they were definitely better than any gym you could've attended in your life.

– with love, milk anon🥛

MILK YOU’RE KILLING ME IM LIKE. MENTALLY FACE DOWN IN A POOL RN /pos AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA [more nsft utc—]

this is so…… i have no words. im. blushing at my phone rn. milk anon you are so crazy for this… THE GOOD GIRL AND THE HAVING TO KEEP QUIET……. this is hitting all the spots im going insane at 0027 hours rn 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 im so WEAK for cockwarming and this is functionally cockwarming with a twist didhdkdksldjdkd

brainrotting about what would happen when the sets r done…….. she’d be gentler and not as intense as she usually is but archons does she know how to use that fucking dick of hers to make me absolutely brainless without even needing to expend that much effort LSHDHDJ i need her so bad 😭😭😭 she makes me feel like i’m in HEAT i SWEAR

on my knees for more of your breeding kink thoughts my dear milk… 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

[purple-babygirl]

in the far corner of the forest II

Pairings: Orc!Bucky Barnes x f!human!reader

Word Count: 5,500

Summary: For the longest time, the kingdom has used Bucky as their number one fighter, forcing him to win their wars for them. The only thing he asked for in return after he was done was that they give him a wife, and they did. They handed him the orphan he picked on a silver platter; it wasn't like anyone would miss her. It would've been perfect if she actually wanted to be there though.

Warnings: foot injury, nudity, fighting, forced/arranged marriage. 18+ content.

A/N: I tried to make this one longer for you guys (hopefully it's not totally shitty). Let me know your thoughts about this story if you can and please enjoy xx💜💜

~

She quickly slipped her shoes back on and ran out of the door for her life without looking back.

She only realized she had no pants on when her thighs started freezing under the cold rain hitting them. It was getting harder to keep running but she knew she just couldn’t stop.

She was dead meat if Bucky was to find her.

Her wet hair was stuck to her face and she was struggling. Long branches were scratching her all over and the rain was dropping so heavy she could feel it bashing down on the top of her head.

The woods looked the same everywhere and she felt like she was running in circles. She could see no light, hear no humans and she knew that she has gotten herself so far away from safety.

All of that didn’t scare her as much as the sounds of footsteps sinking in the mud not so far behind her did. Her blood ran cold and she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

What if it was Bucky? What would he do to her if he found her? She ran faster as her thoughts got wilder because what if it wasn’t Bucky? What would another person— another creature do to her if they found her all alone out there in the dark, empty forest?

With too much going on at the same time, she hardly noticed the rock about to collide with the front of her cheap shoes and before she could even gasp, she was falling down hard, twisting her ankle underneath her in the process.

She let out a muffled sob as her tears mixed with the rain. Trying to take a step on that foot was impossible, let alone running. She wasn’t even able to get back up, how was she going to escape whatever was about to reach her?

At this point, she had given up all hopes of escape. She knew she was doomed.

The footsteps were coming closer and her foot was no good. Sitting herself up against a mossed tree, she closed her eyes tightly and cried.

She should’ve just drank the milk. She should’ve drank the goddamn milk.

The footsteps got louder and louder and her heart beat faster with each passing second. Suddenly all sounds stopped and it was just her whimpers and the beating rain, so she opened her fearful eyes.

And there, towering over her and panting was a very wet and very angry snow orc.

“What did I say, little human?” He growled, roughly pushing his own wet hair back before crouching down before her.

“Please,” she cried helplessly, pressing herself further against the tree, scared of what he might do to her after she’d disobeyed him, “I’m hurt.”

She thought maybe that would make him have a little mercy on her.

Bucky just shook his head.

She was dreading his next words but they never came because she was suddenly being lifted up in his arms. Bucky carried her so easily as if she weighed nothing.

He was mad, but she was hurt. And scared. And shivering. He surprisingly found himself wanting to do nothing to her but safely get her home and warm her up.

~

She had fallen asleep on Bucky’s chest on the way home. Too much crying and over exhaustion would do that to a person. It’s been a long night for her and she needed the rest.

When she opened her eyes, she was still in Bucky’s arms and he seemed to be struggling, trying to open the large bathtub water without waking her up, or dropping her altogether.

She took a moment to look at him.

He was so big and strong. His hair looked so soft even when it was styled by the rain. His full, stubbly cheeks would’ve looked cute if she wasn’t so afraid of him.

Bucky was rather handsome for a ruthless orc.

“Y—you can put me down,” she whispered, trying not to overuse her tired voice.

Bucky’s ears perked at the sound of her weak voice and he looked at her for a second before sitting her down on the toilet seat and going back to fix her a bath.

“Strip,” Bucky said, his voice laced with anger and his face turned away from her.

Fear filled her heart and tears her eyes as she recalled her earlier experience in Bucky’s bed.

She had made him change his mind. It was her fault for not listening and now she was going to get the life raped out of her by this huge orc.

“Please, I’m sorry. I won’t try it again, I swear—”

“I just wanna get you in the tub. You’re all wet and muddy,” Bucky interrupted her frantic plea, his tone still firm, yet gentler this time, though his deep frown didn’t leave his face.

“Oh, o-okay. Could you please—”

Without getting to continue her request, Bucky turned around, giving her his back and some privacy.

Her whole body was quivering as she took off the wet sweater, only then realizing how wet and cold she really was. She eased her underwear down as well before trying to stand up to walk to the tub on her own. Her foot didn’t agree though and she instantly stumbled forward, almost falling face first if it wasn’t for the shower curtain.

Bucky turned around at the sound of her gasp and quickly had a muscly arm around her.

She shivered harder at his touch on her naked body for the second time that evening.

How did he manage to be so warm all the time? Wasn’t he just with her under the same rain?

Bucky had a large hand curled around her waist as the other held hers, helping her step inside the large tub.

She could feel the warmth of the water spreading up her shins as she dipped her other foot in too. She grabbed onto Bucky’s arms for dear life as she lowered herself and finally sat in the hot water.

“Thank you,” she whispered yet again, closing her eyes at the cozy feeling of the nice water embracing her sore muscles.

Bucky took his own wet sweater off and just stared at her. He didn’t know anything about her but her name and that she was an orphan. Yes, he’s seen her before and he picked her himself, but he didn’t know enough to be feeling the way he was feeling about her at that moment.

Bucky couldn’t decipher exactly what he felt right there but he knew he felt absolute terror when he saw her milk untouched and the cottage door ajar. He knew the image of her getting hurt or lost out there scared the shit out of him. He knew he had never put his boots on faster.

He knew he wanted to protect her with his life.

Bucky was mad at her, very mad, but he had no intention of acting on or according to that emotion.

She was looking so peaceful with her eyes closed and her body swallowed up by the warm water, kind of as if she’d almost forgotten all about where she was or who had her for a second.

The tub was too big for her small human body and she felt hugged by the warmth of the water everywhere. She wished the water could swallow her up, put her out of her misery for good.

Bucky’s finger tips went to her hair, carefully mapping down the locks.

Her eyes snapped open and the water moved with her when she jerked away from the touch.

“What are you doing?” She asked, afraid and alarmed again.

“I’m just gonna wash your hair,” Bucky replied, walking to kneel behind the tub, “I can’t let you put this head down on my pillows.”

“I can sleep on the floor.” Oh, please let me sleep on the floor.

“Not gonna happen.”

He let himself cradle her head when she didn’t object and started leaning it back so it can be touched by the clean water.

“W—wait—” She nervously tried to stop him.

“Trust me.”

Bucky gave her a minute to refuse and when she didn’t, he helped her get her hair in the water.

She didn’t actually trust the orc but she didn’t want to give him more reasons to be angry at her, so she curled her fists tight under the water and let him wash her hair for her.

She was ashamed and had a lot to be forgiven for, no need to add to that list.

Bucky was so gentle with her that she believed she had drifted off and was dreaming. His fingers weren’t harsh when they massaged the soapy matter on her scalp. Before she knew it, her head was smelling clean again. It felt like her scalp was breathing.

“You ready to wash off?” Bucky’s question pushed her out of her mental paradise as she was reminded of her foot’s condition.

She bit her lip, not knowing what to tell him but he was quicker.

“I’ll help you stand up, come on,” Bucky offered, giving her his large hands again and this time she didn’t stare too long before taking them.

He unplugged the tub before helping her stand up close to the shower. She relied on her good leg, leaning onto Bucky for support where her other leg was.

Bucky swallowed at the proximity of her wet, naked body to his own but managed to maintain his composure.

He couldn’t quite understand what he was feeling or what the warmth inside his chest was and he could all but imagine other ways for her smooth body to be trembling-

Shaking his thoughts off, Bucky adjusted the water’s temperature for her and had her test it before helping her stand directly under the water.

Her eyes shut as the soap was washed out of her hair. She could feel Bucky moving it from her shoulders to her back so it would all get rinsed equally.

In the heat of it all, she couldn’t help but notice that she was no longer trembling like crazy under Bucky’s touch. She pinned it on the hot water.

“Hold onto me,” Bucky instructed when her hair was thoroughly rinsed.

She listened without questioning, choosing to hold onto the orc’s waist (the closest part to her arms), and watched quietly as Bucky grabbed a washcloth, rubbing the soap on it and when he felt it was good enough, he started rubbing down her arms, tummy and thighs, avoiding her privates at first.

He had to get her cleaned up though so he gingerly let the washcloth caress her breasts and ass, even briefly slipping it between her legs while avoiding eye contact.

Her eyes shut and her nails dug harder in his sides but she stayed put.

She noticed that Bucky didn’t try to force his touch on her this time. He even used the washcloth as a barrier between his skin and hers so he could clean her up without making her uncomfortable.

Maybe it was the rain she had beat down on her head, but that Bucky was much kinder and much more respectful than the discourteous one she had met earlier that same night.

Once the water had washed down all the soap, Bucky extended an arm and grabbed the towel he’d prepared earlier.

He kept her leaning on his body as he bent to twist the water tap off.

Bucky got out of the tub first, one arm still around her waist.

He wrapped the towel around her, not missing how tightly she immediately clutched it to her body, before swiftly carrying her out of the tub and onto the toilet seat again.

Bucky slipped his wet sweats and boxers down and she looked away quickly, her face heating up yet again.

He could have showered with her, but he didn’t want to intimidate her. She was already terrified enough when he had told her to strip.

He walked to his closet and pat himself down with a towel, hastily pulling up another pair of sweats and a clean sweater.

Bucky walked back in and carried her outside, carefully placing her on the bed.

“I—I can dress myself,” she told him when she saw he was trying to gather anything from his closet that might fit her.

“Here,” Bucky handed her one of his large sweaters folded and on top was a lace piece of underwear.

She looked at him with both confusion and annoyance.

He didn’t seriously expect her to wear someone else’s underwear, did he?

“It’s brand new. I had someone buy me some from the village… for my bride,” Bucky told her, shrugging as if it was no big deal but the act still momentarily warmed her chest, “heard human girls liked that kinda stuff.”

He didn’t understand the need for lingerie yet he bought them for his future wife anyway. What a nice gesture that was unbecoming of a deadly, metal-armed orc!

“If I’d known they would send you without your clothes I would’ve bought more stuff—”

“Thank you.” She nodded, accepting the clothes, embarrassed about the fact that they gave her up without as much as a change of clothes.

“Get dressed so I can take a look at your ankle.” Bucky took the now cold glass of milk off the table and walked back with it to the kitchen.

The sun was soon going to rise and she deserved some good rest. So Bucky poured the milk back into a sauce pan and reheated it for her.

“You done?” Bucky asked before coming back out and only did when he received her confirmation.

When he got out with the hot milk, she was dressed and combing her hair with Bucky’s brush. He set the glass on the bedside table this time and stared at the brush she had in her hand, a strangely possessive feeling bubbling in his stomach at the sight of her wearing his clothes and using something of his.

“I- I thought I’d comb it so it wouldn’t—”

“Give it,” Bucky interrupted, opening his large palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered quickly, handing him his brush before pulling her legs to her chest, burying her hot face in her knees.

She was too upset with herself for overstepping the boundaries to notice the bed dip behind her.

Bucky had sat down and was gathering her hair back so he could comb it for her.

Goosebumps climbed up her back and she couldn’t believe what was happening.

First, the orc had washed her hair and body so tenderly as if she was made of literal snowflakes, and now he was combing her hair for her with so much care that she felt tears sting her eyes.

No one has ever taken care of her. No one has ever been so gentle or kind with her. It was new and it was overwhelming.

She didn’t know if she should still anticipate a punishment from the orc or if she should give in and trust him and his soft gestures. It was confusing.

Bucky couldn’t recognize himself as he worked the brush in her hair from the tips to the roots, careful not to hurt her or pull at her locks.

Where was this softness coming from! How come she was the one getting it to show so shamelessly, and why did Bucky like it too much to stop it?

~

“Thank you,” she mumbled for the millionth time that night as Bucky finished patching up the superficial wounds littering her skin and wrapping up her sprained ankle.

“It’s not free.” He crossed his arms.

“What?” Her heart started pounding once more.

“I have things I want in return.”

The orc’s words made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She knew she shouldn’t trust him.

“L—Like what?” She drew her legs back as best as she could, afraid of Bucky’s touch once again.

She knew she had nothing to give the orc. She was just an orphan who was sent here without even a dress to her name.

“Like first of all, don’t try to run from me again, especially with a foot like that,” Bucky said sternly, a thick finger pointing at her hurt foot.

She nodded silently, knowing that she wasn’t going to abide by that.

“Good.” Bucky huffed, standing up to put the first aid kit back in place.

“And what else?” She asked nervously, twiddling her thumbs.

“What else?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, his frown glued to his face.

“You said first of all, which means there is more,” she explained, trying not to sound annoyed.

“Ah! Well, I would postpone this conversation until after you’ve had some rest—”

“No!” She interrupted loudly, earning a glare from Bucky.

“I’m sorry, I just— I won’t be able to rest if we don’t talk about our situation. I need to know what’s expected of me here.”

“What’s expected of you is to give me a family,” Bucky replied, a bit harsher than he wanted to sound.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she lost her ability to form words. She couldn’t do that. She just couldn’t.

“But since we’ve already established that I won’t be forcing you through that, at least for the time being, I’m willing to accept something different.” He crossed his arms again.

“Something different?” She whispered.

“I’m willing to relieve you from your wifely duties, but only when it comes to sex. Otherwise, I expect you to be a good wife to me.” Bucky demanded, his intense gaze making her feel smaller than ever.

Her anger drowned over her fear and nervousness. She didn’t ask to be his wife in the first place, why was she expected to act like a good one?

“And how exactly do you suggest I do that?”

“It’s simple. You cook our meals, clean our home, wash our clothes and you kiss me before I leave the house and after I come back—”

“What!”

“What?” Bucky crossed his arms tighter in anger.

“I don’t wanna kiss you! You’re a—” She cut herself off before she could say anything more but Bucky understood.

“I’m what? Say it! A filthy orc? A monster?” He spat heatedly.

“That’s not— I didn’t say that.” She shook her head, eyes casted down.

“But you were gonna!” Bucky involuntarily raised his voice and she jumped in her place.

“Okay, fine, I am a monster, and you are that monster’s wife. You are going to kiss this monster good night and good morning, goodbye and welcome back for as long as this monster has you, and that is forever,” he growled angrily, leaving her frozen, unable to even nod as she took in his words.

“That’s not fair!” She teared up and Bucky hated that she was still trying to negotiate.

“Yeah, life’s not fair.”

Bucky walked to the lantern and blew its fire out before drawing the curtains so that the cottage was dimmer.

He went back to where she was sat on the bed, handed her the milk and crossed his arms, wordlessly waiting for her to scoot over.

She quickly got the hint, moving away from Bucky and closer to the wall.

He got into the big bed with her, the mattress dipping under his weight, trapping her between himself and the wall.

“I wanna sleep on the floor,” she said, still determined to get far away from him.

“No.” Bucky’s tone was fed up.

“I don’t wanna sleep next to you. You can’t force me!”

“Watch me.” Bucky looked her in the eyes, daring her to disobey anymore.

She dropped her eyes at once, staring at her milk.

“Drink.”

“I’m drinking!” She raised her voice again and earned a scowl, Bucky’s gaze sharp.

She tried to make it longer, but soon the glass was out of milk and her slow sips couldn’t help her anymore.

She wanted to stand her ground and not kiss him, eyes blazing with defiance.

But the orc wasn’t going to let that happen. Him taking mercy on her when it came to sex didn’t mean he would let her disobey him.

Bucky took the empty glass, putting it on the cupboard. He got comfortable on his back and locked his eyes on her.

“You know what to do.” Bucky’s tone left no room for argument and she knew better than to try.

Forcing herself down on her elbows, she leaned in closer to Bucky’s face, piercing blue eyes watching her, counting her troubled breaths as they left her lungs.

His tusks looked bigger up-close.

She couldn’t bring herself to do it. All she could do was press a shy kiss to his stubbly cheek before quickly turning over, giving him her back.

She hid herself under the large comforter, covering up from head to toe as her face burned, buried in the cold wall.

Bucky was having butterflies flying above him on the other side of the bed. He has never had something so soft come in contact with his skin before.

With a sigh, he got an extra pillow from behind him and pushed it between her and the wall so that she wouldn’t be cold.

She was too angry to thank him so she kept still as a log as he moved her back like she was.

Bucky turned on his side as well, giving her his back to hide the big smile that itched itself on his lips. His cheek was buzzing where her lips had touched and he couldn’t wait to wake up to get his good morning kiss.

Next to him, she was contrarily dreading the idea of waking up just to repeat it all again.

This was her life now. She had lived the first part of it an unwanted orphan and was now being forced to continue living as an orc’s wife, isolated and all alone with him in the far corner of the forest.

~

When Bucky woke up the next morning and she wasn’t in bed. He let out a sleepy sigh, immediately thinking she had fled the cottage again.

However, the sounds coming from his bathroom made him get up at once.

He knocked on the door, softly calling her name but the sounds only continued to get more aggressive.

Bucky opened the door to see her bowing by the toilet, throwing up her guts as she struggled to keep her hair out of her face.

He quickly kneeled down behind her, holding her messy hair back as she continued to harshly throw up.

Bucky frowned at how much her upset stomach was making her suffer when all she had last night was honeyed cow milk.

There was nothing to come out but her tummy still contracted and pushed her over and over.

When she was finally done, she collapsed back on her butt, her cheeks teary and her chin wet with her saliva.

She thought she looked like a nightmare, but all Bucky saw was fairness.

Her back weakly leaned on Bucky’s chest and he welcomed the feeling it gave him.

She was a mess but Bucky only recognized the beauty in her fragility. He wanted nothing more than to take care of her.

He helped her up to stand by the sink and silently handed her a brand new wooden toothbrush that he’d bought for himself as an extra.

He still couldn’t believe those people at the orphanage sent her here without anything on her.

She couldn’t even have enough power to thank the orc as she took the toothbrush from him with shaky hands.

Meanwhile, Bucky moved to the kitchen to see if he had fresh ginger so he could make her some lemon ginger tea or some soup to help her upset stomach. He didn’t get the chance to find out though because he heard the sound of the toothbrush hitting the sink.

Bucky walked back to her and a yellow face looked back at him before her white lips moved to say “I think something is wrong.” With that, she collapsed on the bathroom floor before Bucky could catch her.

~

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in Bucky’s bed with a cold, wet rag on her forehead and a terrible muscle ache all over her body.

She didn’t get to question what had happened as the orc came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with what looked like a large bowl of hot soup on top of it.

Bucky smiled when he saw her eyes open, “how are you feeling?”

She was surprised he could even smile; he was all smirks and scowls last night.

“Ache-y,” she said, her voice faint and sick.

“I made you something that should be light on your stomach,” he told her as he set the tray on the dining table.

“I’m not hungry.” She crossed her arms stubbornly, still mad because of this whole situation.

Even when she was bedridden she could get on his nerves.

“I wasn’t asking,” he replied indifferently, his frown back to his face.

“I’m not hungry I said!”

“Do I look like I care?” Bucky barked, making her open her mouth in a silent gasp.

“I don’t want anything from you!” She wished her muscles would allow her to move so she could turn away from him.

He had her here against her will for goodness’ sake! Did he think a bowl of soup could make her forget such a fact? She was sick because she was trying to get away from him during a thunder storm! Did he forget that?

“You’re gonna eat it!” Bucky ordered strictly.

“Do you have medicine? I can just take the pills and feel better.” She shrugged.

“What I made you is far better than a thousand pills,” Bucky insisted, his words final.

Bucky removed the wet cloth from her forehead and helped her sit up, placing a pillow behind her for comfort.

He then put his palm on her forehead to feel her temperature, wiping the dew drops off her skin and her breath got caught in her throat at the mere touch of his calloused thumb.

“Your temperature is down, you just drink your soup and you’ll feel better before you know it.”

Was he caring or did he hate her? Was he crazy? Did they give her to a crazy orc?

“I don’t want to—”

Bucky only gave a silent glare.

There it was.

“Fine,” she yelled, as much as her sick body and sore throat allowed her.

She looked at him with squinted eyes, not believing the care he was treating her with.

Was this a trap? When was her punishment coming? Why was he acting like a grandmother?

“Come on now,” Bucky said, getting her out of her mind.

He was offering her a half full spoon. He wanted to feed her.

She had no idea why he was being so hospitable or why her heart beat so fast, but she didn’t like it.

“I got it,” she managed to say as she extended her arms to take the bowl from him.

She looked at it suspiciously, smelling the liquid in inspection. After all, she had no idea what kind of things orcs ate.

It seemed to be normal chicken soup with a hint of something more.

Bucky carefully handed her the spoon, “it’s a family recipe. I hope I did okay.”

The way he whispered the last few words almost made her smile but she bit the smile back quickly before starting to eat.

“It’s good. Thank you,” she whispered timidly, staring at her soup as she drank up.

The silence was awkward as Bucky just watched her drink so she spoke before she could think, “where’s your family by the way?”

She knew orcs lived in clans, but there was no one here, not for miles and miles as far as she could see.

“Not here.”

“I… can see that.” She dropped her eyes to her soup, “well, where’s everyone else?”

Bucky looked at her questioningly.

“Don’t orcs like to live in big groups?”

“Not this orc.” Bucky’s frown was back as he stood up and left to the bathroom to wash the clothes they had dirtied last night, but most importantly, to avoid this very conversation.

She shrugged off her curiosity, telling herself she didn’t and shouldn’t care about him. If the orc liked to live alone, he liked to live alone. That was not hers to be concerned about.

~

Three days have passed and she was feeling way better already.

Bucky has been nothing but a gentle orc to her, if that was even a thing.

He kept the fact that she was sick in mind and not once did he push her to comply with his kissing conditions even though they both knew he couldn’t get her human stomach flu.

Bucky only focused on nursing her back to health, doing the housework himself as he took care of her.

The orc was trying his hardest, but their disagreements, nonetheless, never ceased.

It didn’t matter that she was sick, she used all of her energy to get under the orc’s skin and he hated that she succeeded every time because he was so short-tempered.

Bucky was always so fast to snap and it ruined his plans of trying to be nice to her every single time.

She was just too provocative and never listened without making him glare or shout.

It wasn’t how he wanted to continue with her and he silently vowed to work on his anger for the sake of his mate, even if his mate happened to be a very annoying, stubborn, childish human.

Bucky has always been feared and he had liked it that way, but not anymore. Now, he just wanted peace. He wanted a peaceful life with her.

He had found her staring at the mirror on the third day, feeling better enough now to get to the bathroom on her own.

“The floor is too cold for your feet, wear something,” Bucky advised, wanting her to use the slippers he had gotten her, but she didn’t reply, too engrossed in watching her own face.

She didn’t pay him any mind and that angered Bucky a little, but he chose to ignore it because she appeared too sad.

“What are you looking at?” Bucky asked, confused.

“I look so sick… and faint,” she answered, still deep in thought, voice so softly unhappy.

“You look fine.” Bucky wanted to reassure her, but he had no idea how to be smooth.

He had never had to say sweet nothings to a woman before. That wasn’t exactly his area of expertise.

“I look withered, like a dead plant.” She huffed gloomily.

“Not all withered plants are dead! Take garlic, for example,” Bucky blurted, “you could be a garlic!”

He had no idea he just dug himself a deep hole.

“A garlic?! You’re comparing me to garlic? Is that supposed to be a hint at the way I smell? Because you showered me with the same soap you shower with!” She suddenly started arguing and Bucky had no idea when or how they got there.

“That’s not what I meant!” He followed after her as she stormed out of the bathroom as fast as her bad foot allowed her.

She only huffed in response as she got under the heavy blankets to warm up her freezing feet.

“Garlic doesn’t lose its taste or aroma no matter how old or dry its skin gets!” Bucky tried to explain as he fetched her a pair of socks but her face made him aware of the impact his words had as she opened her mouth wide.

He was just making this worse.

“So now you’re calling me old with dry skin? Wow, thanks, husband!” She snatched the socks from him, her face now sadder than it was when she was before the mirror.

“That’s not what I mean—”

“Then what did you mean?!” She snapped.

How dare he comment on her age or skin or smell when she was deadly sick like that?! She normally took good care of herself and she was neither that old nor that unpleasant! Maybe she wasn’t the fairest of them all but—

“All I wanted to say was that you’re beautiful!” Bucky snapped back before watching his tone for the sake of her health, “sick or not… you’re still beautiful, little human.”

Taken aback by his sudden admiring comment, she remained stunned and silent as the orc gathered his axe and fled the house to go take his frustration with himself out on some dead trees.

Wow.

She may have just gotten compared to a dried bulb of garlic, but her heart was waltzing inside her chest as if that was the loveliest compliment to receive.

That orc confused her.

Part III

~

Tag List:

@harrysthiccthighss

@tinystudentfirepurse

@lavendercitizen

@tumblin-theworldaway

@pretty-pop-princess-hs

@lilymurphy03

@idontwannagomrstarkk

@glxwingrxse

@littlelioncub43

@mathletemadison

@canned-rootbear

@pandaxnienke

@loveisallyouneed1125

@floral-recs

@littlemoonkiller

@hallecarey1

@vespasianphantom

@vicmc624

@winters1917

@ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal

@blkmystery

@millercontracting

@trappedwriter

@am-3-thyst

@obsessedwithquinn

@sydnielauryn

@alittlerayof-pitchblack

@olipiaa

@peterparkersgirl-blog

@buckybarnessweetheart

@thealyrs

@colorfulbluebirdpainter

@stuckysgirl27

@ihavetwoholesforareason

@princess-bee0

@pastel-noah168

@steeph-aniie

@buckitostan

@onthr-dream

@sapphirebarnes

@123iloveyou456

@ciaqui

@lindasweetie

@justherefortheficandsmut

@xxdiaqiaoxx

[southsideserendipity]

I saw your post about Mikey so I hope this is okay & what you were looking for. Mikey meets a girl that is like sunshine whenever she walks in the room & makes him finally feel worthy/valued so he’ll do anything to make her feel special in return

Sunshine (Mikey Berzatto x Reader)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of weed and alcohol.

Word Count: 4.2k

I found a good boy and he's on my side You're just my eternal sunshine, sunshine

“John, John- you listenin’ to me?!” Mikey was pacing his office, trampling over receipts and month-old sticky notes while aggressively combing his hands through his tussled black hair. “I’ll have your money. When have I not paid you, goombah? I didn’t see the invoice, you should see this fuckin’ office, not enough time to organize this damn shit show” he responded, kicking a stack of papers in the process. 

Bending down, he began rummaging through the various papers littering the office floor, attempting to compile them into categories. “John! You there?! Fuck.” Mikey frantically pat himself down, a sudden yearn for nicotine overcoming him. Finding his carton of Marlboros, he slipped the end of a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

Letting out a sigh, John grunted, “Yeah, I’m here, Mikey. I’ll give you a couple more d-” before being interrupted by the vibrations of Mikey’s phone. 

“Fuck me, that jagoff is calling” Mikey thought out loud. “Listen, John, I hear you, you’ll have your money, mmkay? On my ma, I swear to ya, I gotta go though there’s another ball-buster on the other line. K? Ciao.” Before John could respond, Mikey stood up to accept the other call.

“Mark, brother, hey, before you start… I know, I know.” He picked up his phone, taking it off speaker to slip it under his ear. “I— Listen, I know. I hear you. I- Hey, you gon’ let me speak, or wha’?!” Speaking with his hands he continued to pace around the room, his booming voice stifled by the cigarette. 

The lunch rush at The Beef was dying down, exposing you to increasingly longer bits of the chaotic conversation occurring in the office. This was Mikey’s typical presentation; disheveled, malnourished, and overexaggerately buzzed off of caffeine, nicotine, and italian-ness. Although he was impossible to reason with in this state, you took it upon yourself to fix him up his favourite; a mortadella sandwich with sundried tomatoes, pesto, and mozzarella.

“You think I don’t know that? Pft, c’mon! Mark, man, you’re killin’ me!” You stood in the doorway, observing Mikey as he stood with one hand on his hip, the other flailing around to exemplify his frustrations. In one of your hands was the plate holding the lunch you made; in the other was a Chicago Bears BIC lighter.

Subtly knocking on the already open office door, Mikey whipped around to face you, his inconvenienced facial expression seamlessly evaporating into his wide-tooth grin. Mouthing ‘meet me outside’ was all it took for him to fake an excuse off of the phone and trail in your footsteps.

Albeit cheesy, you had that captivating effect on him, your hidden-well insecurities and past failed relationships blinding you to the fact that Mikey was infatuated with you. That, in combination with the 15-year age gap between you two. For Mikey, none of those factors changed the fact that you were his daylight, sunshine in human form.

Outside in the back you sat on a milk crate, the pre-Spring Chicagoan air fluttering over your skin. Moments after, Mikey joined you by sitting on an adjacent crate close to you after propping open the door. “Thanks, Bella” he said as he leaned over, his palm squeezing your thigh in an attempt to physically communicate the appreciation he held for your act of service. 

You offered out the plate to him, prompting him to begin devouring. He gruffly moaned after taking his first bite. “Mhhhh, shit, this is like Marry Me chicken but in sandwich form.” You giggled in response with your hands resting in your lap, watching as he attacked it hungrily. Mid-bite, he motioned with his head towards the other sandwich on the plate, “Ain’t gonna eat itself, Italiana.”

“I’m not hungry right now, Mike,” you responded, suddenly losing your appetite as you thought of the most effective way to check in on him without him brushing it off. Mikey had a fortified ‘I’ll deal with it maself’ attitude; his hard-headed, traditional Italian, ‘Godfather’ persona caused him to keep you far away from the messes he had gotten himself into. In his eyes, you are more than capable of dealing with life’s bullshit, but his innate urge to protect you from harm’s way and unnecessary stress made it difficult to involve you.

“What was going on in there?” you motioned towards inside with your head. “Ah, nothin’ doll.” He shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to brush off the topic, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Just some bills that need payin’, I got it covered. Business good today? Any jagoffs give you trouble?” He frantically read your face, urgently hoping you’d buy his not-so-discreet attempt at changing the topic.

“C’mon, Mike. Cut the shit. You’re suffocating in that office.” The only person whose bluntness Mikey could listen to happened to also be the only person he’d accept ‘Mike’ from. He took the cigarette that had been hanging from his lips in his office out of his shirt pocket and proceeded to light it. Taking the first drag of it, he flicked it, holding it out to you.

Pursing his lips to blow out his puff, he responded confidently. “I got it all figured out, sunshine. Plus, I got cousin helpin’ me with the books and shit. Just gotta pay back those muthafuckas who keep callin’ me. They’re all, ‘where’s my money!?’” he playfully rolled his eyes, making hand gestures and displaying a funny face as he imitated the callers. You both knew damn well they had every right to be calling him. 

“You telling me that Richie is on the books is supposed to bring me a sense of comfort?” Asking him that question with pure seriousness and handing him back the cigarette, Mikey stifled a laugh. “Hey, him and the IRS are like this” he crossed his middle finger over his index while winking and making a clicking noise with his tongue.

“Cousin, where the fuck are the receipt rolls, the office looks like an abandoned and pissed-in office depot” Richie’s exclaiming became increasingly louder the closer he got. “Feels like we change the damn paper in that thing ever- oh shit, pardon my interruption to your rendezvous. Were you guys about to fuck? I can leave” Richie pointed with his thumb towards the kitchen as he sported a fake-worried and devious expression, slowly inching backwards.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “No one’s fucking anyone, Rich.” Mikey looked to the ground as he faked a chuckle, ignoring the slight pang of hurt in his chest.

“You want a mortadella sandwhich?” You held out the plate to Richie, knowing he couldn’t resist. “Uh, DUH,” Richie grabbed an additional crate to join the two of you, immediately beginning to eat.

“Oh fuck, are you fucking serious right now?! Mikey, if you don’t marry this girl I’ll do it for you. ‘S like a mouf orgathm” Richie had just begun eating yet he already had food on the corners of his mouth. You chuckled, choosing to ignore the marriage comment. “Here, you child. You’re such a slob” you threw him a napkin you had stored in your apron. 

“Hey, the real slob is right over there” he pointed directly at Mikey, not even bothering to wipe his mouth but proceeding to take a another massive bite. “Something’s gotta be done about that cesspool of an office,” Richie shook his head disapprovingly, despite also functioning well in chaotic enrivonments. Mikey took yet another drag, the stress of you and Richie’s indirect demand to get his shit together getting to him. “It’s organized chaos, I know where everything is, s’all that matters.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was the third night in a row that you had difficulty falling asleep. You had tried everything in your arsenal of melatonin-producing activities, and yet, your brain was spiraling, most of your thoughts pertaining to Mikey.

You weren’t going to kid yourself. You needed something and you knew exactly who to get it from. Picking up your phone, you made the call.

“Rich?? You awake?” You rolled over to your side, holding yourself up by your elbow and propping your head up with the palm of your hand. “Yeah I’m awake, but why the fuck are you awake, missus?” “I need a favour…” 

Richie’s dirty mind figured any call from a woman at this hour was for sex, but he also knew about Mikey’s schoolboy yearn for you and wouldn’t dare make any advancements. The silence on his end was telling. “Not that type of favour, God, Rich! Stop being a man for a second. I need weed.” You huffed out, a whiny tone of desperation heavy in your voice. 

“Now that I can help you with” he chuckled.

“YES thank you, Rich, oh my god” You sprung up out of bad as if there were hot rocks in it. “I will meet you at The Beef, okay?!” And that was where he met you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Richie sat at the back of The Beef, exactly where you had had lunch earlier that day. “You want to do the honours, stoner?” Richie held out the joint and lighter for you. You faked an annoying look and exaggerately took them from him. “I’m not a stoner, Rich. I just have an undiagnosed sleeping problem.” You put the joint between your lips and lit it, taking an ungodly large pull from it. 

“Woahhhhh cheech and chong, relax” Richie practically yanked the joint from you. You immediately began coughing as you hadn’t smoked in a while. “What or who the fuck are you trying to forget, Italiana?” Richie’s joking tone didn’t conceal his concern as he took a puff himself. You looked at him, tilting your head to the side to signify confusion.

Richie took another pull before returning the joint to you. “If you’re calling me at 12am to smoke because you couldn’t sleep, it tells me your big brain was overthinking.” You took a moderate inhale this time, the buzz beginning to radiate out to your extremities. “What were you thinking about, Richie? Something tells me you were awake for similar reasons.”

“I’m not sayin’ anything ‘til you do” he responded whilst shrugging. 

Making a sour face, you attempted to restore the saliva in your mouth. “I have cotton mouth like a bitch, I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything?” you asked, heading inside before he could interrogate you further. “Get me a brio!” You chuckled to yourself, shouting back “You know you’re not Italian, right?!”

You walked over to the walk-in fridge, grabbing Richie’s Brio and a Fresca for yourself. On the way back out, Mikey’s office door caught your attention, and you suddenly had an idea. “Rich. Oh my god. I know exactly what we can do.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I… I think we just made things worse.” Looking up at Richie in horror, he mirrored your reaction. “Yeah, we fucked up cousin. We’re in some deep shit.” 

You and Richie were both sat on the office floor, waist deep in the paper equivalent of a small forest. You took a swig from your Fresca, attempting to decipher where to start. “We can do this. For Mikey. He deserves this, and fuck, let’s face it, he was never gonna do it himself!” You attempted to motivate Richie, knowing his child-like attention span and patience were on their last legs. 

Picking up various pieces of paper, you attempted to make sense of them. “Okay… I’ll make one pile for receipts, and I’ll sort them by date, and then-” You felt Richie’s eyes burning a hole into you, causing you to look at him and flail your hands around. “What?!” Impatiently waiting for his response, you began gnawing on the inside of your cheek, nervous that he was onto you. 

“You like him.” Richie slowly grinned from ear to ear as he stated it matter o’factly. “You like like him.” You flung your head back and groaned. “‘Like like?’ C’mon, Rich, what are you, 12? Shut the fuck up and help me.” The blood rushed into your cheeks almost immediately at his accusation, the THC physiologically betraying you and making it impossible to put on a front. “You like him. Oh my god. I fuckin’ knew it,” he giggled. 

“I don’t know whether it’s the weed or the fact that it’s 3am and I’m reaching the point of delirium, but since I’m not a pre-teen, I’ll admit that you’re not wrong. But it’s never going to happen. He’s mentally ill with a fucked up family and so am I- that doesn’t tend to be the ideal romantic combination. Now, lets finish this so we can still go home and get some rest before shift starts.” You looked at Richie with a stern look; he was shocked at your mini rampage, and internally, you were petrified about the fact that you had just spilt your guts to Mikey’s bestfriend.

“And don’t get any ideas, because this conversation does NOT repeat itself, you hear me, Jerimovich!” When you addressed someone in the kitchen by their last name, they knew you meant business. “Uh-huh, yup, yes ma’am.” Richie gulped, considering you just displayed more emotions in the last 5-minutes than you had for the entire length of time he has known you. It didn’t help that he was beyond stoned and couldn’t quite comprehend the nature of what you had told him. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Cousin! What the fuck is this? Why can I see the floor?” Mikey was standing at the doorway of his office in utter disbelief that morning. Richie jogged over peaking his head into the office. “It was Italiana’s doing, she just told me what to do. We were preeeetty fried” he chuckled to himself, recalling last night’s events. “Surprisingly, we didn’t throw anything out. She’s got a real knack for organizing, should’ve let her do this months ago. The IRS and I aren’t going to have anymore beef, see what I did.” 

Richie couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. His nervous rambling was an attempt to not tell Mikey about your confession. Knowing how much Mikey admired you, it was killing him to not be able to tell his own bestfriend that the girl of his dreams reciprocated his feelings. Mikey slowly turned to look at Richie, hands still on his hips. “What the fuck did you smoke, crack? Why are you acting all fucked?”

You had walked into the kitchen at perfect timing before Richie blabbed your secret. Going to hang your purse up, Mikey called you over; he didn’t even need to see you to feel your presence. “Italiana, come ‘ere!” You sped walk over and stood in the entrance, your hands folded in front of you with a nervousness. A part of you was worried that messing with Mikey’s ‘organized chaos’ was going to disorient him, but you wanted to lessen the stress he was experiencing. That was what you did for the people you loved; especially the man you loved. 

“You did this?” He looked directly at you; despite being an expert in Mikey’s nuances, you couldn’t tell whether he was pissed or overjoyed. “Uh, yeah! It’s all pretty self-explanatory but I can go through it with you if you want? I just thought it’d make your life a lil easier. And Richie’s! Of course.” You rubbed your arm with your hand as a means of self-soothing.

“This is great, Bella. Truly. I can’t believe you went through all this trouble, I mean, I don’t think I’ve seen it look like this ever” he motioned towards the filing cabinet and the paper baskets you had labelled appropriately, using his other hand to comb through his hair in shock. “I couldnt of done it without Richie. And Richie’s weed! It was nothing, Mike” you smiled at him and showed yourself out as nonchalantly as possible. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were waiting the last tables of the day - mainly consisting of left behind beer bottles and plastic sandwich baskets - when Mikey came up behind you putting one hand on your waist. “Meet me in the office when you’re done here, yeah?” As he whispered into your ear, you had to keep your knees from buckling. “Yeah, Mike! Okay!” Fucking Richie.

You attempted to stall for the inevitably painful conversation that awaited you, slowly walking towards the kitchen. While washing your hands, your brain began to spiral. Wiping your hands on your apron, you attempted to bravely walk towards the office, standing in the doorway. 

“What’s up?” You halted in your tracks almost immediately as you noticed the charcuterie board Mikey was standing in front of and the bottle of red wine in his hands. “Fuck me. Okay, listen.” You walked closer to him. “Before you say anything, I don’t know what Richie said to you, but as someone who doesn’t know the difference between your and you’re, he has no idea what he’s talking about. You didn’t have to do any of this.” 

Mikey looked at you like a deer in headlights. “What the fuck are you talking about,” he chuckled. There was that dimpled smile. And now you were confused (and distracted) before you realized Richie didn’t say anything.

“I wanted to thank you for organizing the office…” Mikey explained, twisting the bottle of wine open and pouring you a glass. “I know how much you like your charcuterie. If Starbucks ever stops selling those little boards I’ll wonder what you’re gonna eat.” He earned a laugh from you for joking about your mild salami addiction.

You sported the fakest wide tooth grin you could muster. “Hey, I’m Italian. I can’t help it. I think I’m keeping them in business though” you joked in response. He held out the glass for you and winked. “Thanks, Mike” you smiled, hoping he couldn’t pick up on your nervousness. 

“Okay, let me show you what we’ve got here.” He clapped his hands together, excited to introduce you to his concoction of Italian meets and cheeses. Hunched over his desk with both of his hands planted on the surface to support him, he pointed at each meat and cheese as he went through the board’s contents. 

“We’ve got cacciatore, prosciutto, mortadella, then I added parmesan - I know how much you like it - along with romano and gorgonzola. I was thinking we can add it to the menu. We’re no hipster yuppies but throw some olives and overpriced crackers on here and I mean, we’re talkin’ business, baby.” Looking up at you, he attempted to read your face for your thoughts.

Mikey was passionate. That was his entire nature. And when he presented you with ideas, he seemed to put your approval and opinion on a pedestal. You had helped significantly with business at The Beef, assisting in bringing Mikey’s visions to fruition while also providing your input where necessary; he valued your insight more than you realized. 

Taking a baguette slice, you added cacciatore and parmesan onto it and bit in. “Fuck, Mike.” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you let out a near moan. “We gotta add this. It could even be part of a date night special. The charcuterie as an antipasto, a soup or salad, a main, and then dessert” you presented.

Mike glanced up at you with a smirk, content with your proposal. “Have I ever told you that I love your brain, Italiana?” You giggled as you continued to devour the board, attempting to ignore his blatantly obvious attempt at flirting as you couldn’t believe he could possibly be interested in you. 

The rest of the evening was spent brainstorming business ideas, reminiscing on memories shared between you, Mikey, and Richie, and consuming copious amounts of wine. 

“Oh my god, Mike. You remember when Richie tried picking up that blonde girl at the bar with a magic trick, and you- y- oh my god.” You flung your head back as you cackled; you were wine drunk and snortling to the point of incoherence. You were sat across from Mikey who was planted behind his desk, his ankle resting on top of his other knee. His forearms rested on the arms of his chair, and he loosely held a glass of whiskey as he watched you with amusement and a sly grin of admiration. 

“You had to go over there and save him from the embarrassment. Poor thing.” You chuckled. “I’m pretty sure the chick he was tryna bag had started flirting with me,” Mikey said, taking a sip of his whiskey and raising his eyebrows as he attempted to recall the events of that evening. 

You looked intently at him, not breaking eye contact. “Can you blame her?” The wine encouraged a new-found confidence to emerge from within you. There was no way you would’ve been this direct with Mikey while sober. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mikey leaned forward to put his glass on his desk then returned to his laid back position. With a dumbfounded look on your faced, you laughed then displayed a look of annoyance. “Don’t play stupid. Look at yourself, Mike.” You stood up, put the wine glass down, and rested both of your hands on his desk, leaning forward until you were mere inches away from his face.

Looking into his right eye, glancing down at his lips, and looking back up to his left eye, he began to shift in his seat. It was evident that you were both under a hazy and horny alcohol-induced influence, the sexual tension very obviously suffocating the room. “Now take me home before I say or do something I’ll regret.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As Mikey walked you back to your apartment, you held onto the side of his frame with all your might. He guided you through the streets of Chicago with ease; he was nowhere near the level of drunk that you had achieved. “You okay, darlin’?” He looked down, a slight smile on his face as he recognized your drunken effort to walk in a straight line. “Yeah, Mike. Thanks for tonight. No one’s ever gone through such an effort to appreciate me.”

You peered up at him with a smile; you wanted to put into perspective how much his actions meant to you, however, Mikey felt an even stronger urge to spoil you moving forward. Quite frankly, he was bewildered that his small gesture that evening exceeded all that you’ve known. 

Arriving to the door of your apartment, you began rummaging through your purse for your keys. Finding them, you held your arm out straight and dangled them in front of Mikey. “You’re gonna need to unlock the door, mister. I do not currently possess the fine motor skills” you joked, earning a laugh from him.

You caught the glimmer in his eyes. Mikey felt like your fierce protector. You both knew you didn’t need protecting- while this was a part of you he admired, his masculinity often fought for dominance; for the chance to show you how well he could look after you and how much you deserved it. 

He opened the door, propping it open for you as you stumbled through, immediately attempting to take off your shoes. You hadn’t thought this out thoroughly as you ended up toppling over, Mikey catching you in the process. “Easy, doll. Here, sit down,” he motioned toward the ottoman in the foyer of your apartment, guiding you as you lowered yourself. 

He crouched down at your feet and placed the heel of your foot on his thigh, proceeding to untie your shoes. Grasping your ankle one at a time, he wiggled your feet out. You looked down at him, admiring his gentle touch, the concentration present in his furrowed brow; you loved to watch him, whatever he was doing, and you’ve known for a long time that you’ve loved him.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Holding out both of his hands for you, you stood up, letting him walk you through to your bedroom. You had a case of the over-tired drunken giggles, prompting you to laugh as you slurred your intentions to take off your make-up.

Mikey picked out some pjs for you, then proceeded to pour you a cold glass of water while you got changed. Opening the door to your bedroom, you motioned for him to come inside. “Sleep next to me?” You proposed with a curious tone despite knowing he’d decline as he (annoyingly) insisted on being a respectful gentleman at all times. “S’all good doll, I’ll be good on the couch” he motioned to the living room with his head. “Lemme tuck you in.” 

As you got under the covers, Mikey offered you the glass of water to which you happily obliged. Handing it back to him, he placed it on your bedside table as you snuggled yourself into the sheets. He turned off the lamp, the room engulfing with darkness save for the midnight blue hue that the window cast in. 

Mikey began to walk out of your room when you called out to him. “Hey Mike, c’mere” you turned over, watching him as he slowly approached. Motioning for him to come closer, you whispered into his ear. “I like like you.” 

Knocking out after the words escaped your lips, as if they were made of melatonin, Mikey smiled to himself as he looked down at you. “And I love you, sunshine.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

EEEEEEEEK my very first Mikey imagine! Which means I am still learning to integrate his personality into my writing- it’s hard when he has extremely minimal screentime. ALSO I am writing this in whatever year Mikey was operating The Beef, so Carmy, Syd, and the others aren’t there, and Richie and Tiff are still together. I am completely open to feedback and would also love to get more requests for Mikey. Let me know what y’all think!!! :)