#meant to make him give a thumbs up too...oopsies

[daily-xisuma]

[065] 15 minutes to draw him upside down...............

[emlovslennon]

could u maybe write about george x reader where they are enemies/rivals to lovers. The reader is also an artist in Liverpool and the Beatles and her perform at the same gig.

YES this is such a cute idea!! I definitely need to make more George content and realized I’ve made 0 Paul oopsie daisy😭😭

-

Era:1961

-

You were 18 and an upcoming artist in your local Liverpool scene, you’ve wanted to perform ever since you were 5 years old, and you were doing quite well for yourself. Well, that was until a new a group came along, they called themselves “The Beatles” which you thought was a ridiculous name, I mean come on, a bug of all things? They were “stealing your shine” as you’d like to call it, when, in reality, you were just jealous. You did, however, have somewhat of a rivalry when it came to you and their guitarist, George Harrison. You were both the same age and extremely competitive. It didn’t help you and him were both performing at the same venue, “The Cavern Club” where you two both started out. You had to admit, it was your favorite place to perform, but you couldn’t but feel abnormally anxious. I mean, what if everyone is only there for them and not for you? You felt completely irrelevant. As you sat backstage, fidgeting with your fingers trying your hardest to not have a panic attack, 4 boys who you recognized immediately walked into your dressing room, including George.

“What the bloody hell are you guys doing in here? I could have been naked!?” You yelled angrily. The boys just seemed to laugh it off, bastards.

“Oh, calm your knickers, y/n. We just came in to tell you good luck, no need for such an attitude.” George said, he was cheeky, that’s for sure.

“Well, thanks. Now get out.” You replied, pointing at the door, the other boys snickered and giggled as they walked out, but for some odd reason, George stayed.

“I meant you too, Harrison. Get out.” You said, louder, George just chuckled.

“Alright, alright.” He laughed as he waltzed out of the room. As much as you couldn’t stand him, you slowly felt a blush cover your cheeks, you’re lucky he left before he was able to see it.

The show finally started, and there was about 170 people attendees, it wasn’t the biggest venue, but in your mind, that’s a hell of a lot of people. The boys were on first, so you had some time, you just decided to look from backstage, and you just sop happened to be on George’s side of the stage. Which no matter how much you hated to admit it, you weren’t complaining.

They were on a good hour, your eyes were glued to George the entire time, and, to your surprise, he even turned and winked at you a couple times, along with a smile or two. If your blush wasn’t visible then, it sure was now. I mean, it pretty much felt like he dedicated the song “that’ll be the day” which was a Buddy Holly cover, to you. That’s a lot. Unfortunately, they all went off the opposite side of the stage. You knew that meant one thing, you were next. Your heart was racing and you knew had to perform the best you could, you knew it wasn’t a competition, but it sure as hell felt like it.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, give a warm welcome to the lovely y/n l/n!”

You walked on a stage with a smile on your face and waved, the crowd cheered and you could even hear some whistles, but you ignored it. You slowly grabbed the mic and got yourself ready to perform. Your biggest hit was a cover of Connie Francis’ “Stupid Cupid” it was a fantastic song and it fit your vocal range perfectly.

(It’s such a good song stream it LMAO)

You also went on for a good hour, your voice was starting to get strained and sore and you couldn’t possibly wait to get off the stage, you turned to your right and saw the boys watching you, Paul gave you a thumbs up while George blew a kiss. Your blush was visible now and you knew everyone was noticing. After you performed your final song, the crowd cheered for a good minute and the announcer gave you a quick hug and a “good job” before you went back stage, as soon as you were out of view from the crowd, George swooped you into a hug, you knew you should push him away, but you didn’t, you just couldn’t.

“Wow, y/n. I gotta say, you have the voice of an angel.” He praised, putting your hand into his, your breath hitched.

“Oh, t-thank you, George. You do too.” You said, completely flustered, you looked down out of shyness, not being able to look him in the eye. He slowly grabbed your chin with his fingers and made you look up at him, as he looked you deep in the eyes, asking for permission to kiss you. You leaned in slowly until your lips connected into a slow, passionate kiss. Well, that was until the boys gave out numerous “oooo’s” and “I knew it’s.”

“Hey, would you wanna go on tour with me and the boys? It’ll be worth it, I promise, I don’t wanna be without ya, y/n.” He said, squeezing your hand slightly. You nodded eagerly as the boys cheered.

Maybe The Beatles weren’t that bad.

-

I HOPED YOU LIKED IT THIS WAS SO FUN TO DO <333

[always-andromeda]

La Belle Fleur Sauvage for Brian Weathersby? I have seen absolutely ZERO nsfw for him and I am just DYING to see what your take on it is. Imma give you free range on this one bby. Tear it up 💖

Author's Note | ooooo boy...I have teeeeensy bit of a soft spot for Brian and it's purely because of how bad this man gets beat up in this movie...oopsie...thank you for giving me free reign though!!!! this concept simply kept bouncing around in my brain lmao.

Warnings | smut (MDNI), unprotected sex, overstimulation, nothing else I can think of!!

When you waltz in, Brian knows he's in trouble. He didn't even realize just have much time he'd wasted on paperwork. Normally he'd be counting down the minutes until he could close up the store and go home. But of course the one day he actually has plans outside of work is the day that about a dozen people decided that they needed a mattress.

Why anyone would decide they wanted a mattress about the cost of a used car, he had no clue. He still manages to sell seven mattresses. A good day. A very good day. Until you walked in, of course.

"Didn't think you'd be having this much fun without me," you tease humorlessly, approaching his desk. Stacks of papers litter the surface of his work station.

"I'm so sorry, I've been completely swamped today." Brian clicks the pen he holds and avoids your hard gaze. He tries again, "I meant to call and tell you I'd be late. But everything just..."

You finger runs up the length of a particularly large stack of papers, "Piled up?"

Brian sighs before giving you a purse lipped smile, "Something like that."

You nod once. Simply accepting the halfhearted excuse. Brian waits for you to say something else before you swivel around on your heels and begin to walk along the row of remaining mattresses on the sales floor. You hand presses down on each one for a few seconds, teasing the firmness as you seemingly decide it's too hard or too soft. He watches you with a quizzical look as you seem to finally find one you like. You press both hands on that one and bounce a few times.

Then you crawl up on it, that little dress you're wearing, riding up just enough so Brian catches a glimpse of the back of your thighs before you turn around and lie on your back. Deciding to entertain whatever you're trying to do, Brian gets up and slowly makes his way towards you.

He hears you breath out contentedly as you ask, "How much is this one, Bri?"

Brian chuckles. As if you'd ever be able to afford it. Nonetheless, he replies, "Ten grand." He's got practically every price memorized. There's not much else to do when he's surrounded by the numbers every single day.

You scoff, "Jesus Christ, who buys these?"

"People with money to burn, I guess."

Head raising for a few seconds, you smile slightly, "Wanna test this one out with me?"

"Test it?"

You rub the spot beside you, "Yeah, have you never actually tried one of these bad boys?"

Brian shakes his head defensively. But he still brings his knee up to the bed and carefully crawls up it. He doesn't need a ten thousand dollar bill to pay if it gets damaged in some way.

"Oh, don't be such a dork," you laugh and grab him by the collar of his dark sweater. Before he can possibly move in time, he collapses on top of you, knocking his nose into yours on the way down.

Your face scrunches up at the impact and you nuzzle your nose against his.

"Hi," your voice is small and sweet. There’s a pang in his stomach. Brian stares into your wild eyes and blinks hard when you draw your knees up and press them into the sides of his torso.

You add quickly, "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?"

The sentiment nearly knocks the air from his lungs. He shakes his head solemnly.

"Really?" your thumb and index finger grab his chin, "That's a shame." you whisper. Your lips engulf his in a slow, lazy kiss as he closes his eyes and sighs.

Using the leverage from your knees, you make him flip around onto his back and straddle him. The little weight that you put on him presses him down into the mattress. He'd never really felt one of them. It's different, his full weight sinking into the luxurious cushion. He's not sure if he can feel the ten thousand dollars it would cost to own the mattress in its Swedish glory. But he can feel your hips grinding into his own. He feels himself harden at the sheer friction of your clothed cunt against him.

That dress does nothing to spare his imagination. Nothing keeps his mind from wandering as you hum into his mouth. Before he can think about it more, he's hitching your dress up a little further and undoing his belt.

"Oh?" you sit up properly so Brian can struggle to pull his pants down. "You really want to test this bed out, huh?"

Brian can only inhale deeply as you reach into his underwear and pull his cock out from the confines of the waistband. He has to stop himself from bucking into your hand. Just watches with bated breath as you lift yourself up, slip your panties to the side, line him up, and slowly sink down.

The way he stretches you hits sharply and Brian caresses your thighs until you're almost seated on him. His tip barely brushes something inside of you and your head lolls back as you adjust to the fullness. As disappointing as his time management was, this certainly wasn't disappointing.

Brian keeps his eyes clenched closed, concentrating on staying still for you. As much as he wants to move you, he stays as patient as he can, trying not to think about how warm you feel. How just a little bit of grinding had made you so ready for him. He tries not to let that thought get him too cocky.

Then you gently rock on him. You struggle to keep your knees planted firmly on the soft mattress so Brian takes it as his chance to hold onto you and help you bounce, thrusting slightly to meet your movements. He watches your face change as he digs deeper inside you.

"This good for you?" he asks quickly. 

"Yeah, just keep going," comes your breathy response. 

Finally, for a few seconds, he stops worrying about the forgotten date. About the mattress. About the ten thousand dollars. The only thing he hears are the squeak of springs and your heady moans. 

The coils in your own belly tighten impossibly. It all builds to a peak so quickly that you don't have time to prepare yourself for the impact. Your hands stable themselves on his chest.

Brian almost wishes he'd waited long enough to get fully undressed. The mattress is so soft and so warm. He already feels the sweat forming on his hairline as he gets higher and higher. And just as he thinks about the possibility of staining the mattress, your cunt contracts around him. Your hips convulse. You hold onto his sweater with balled fists. And with one last whine, you're there.

But you're still moving. Still riding him through the stinging overstimulation that makes you jolt and cry out. Wordlessly, Brian moves to take you off of him, but you hold on and stay seated.

"It's okay, Bri," you sigh, "Just keep going. Just...keep...going."

He's so close. And with you gently clenching him, he knows he doesn't stand much of a chance to last much longer. But he'd take the frustration of a missed orgasm over the way you wince in pain.

"No, no, get up," he says urgently, prying your knees away from his sides and pulling himself out.

Your hand immediately goes to pump his red and rigid cock. But he grabs your wrist and repositions it on his chest.

"Why won't you let me finish you?" you ask with a furrowed brow. 

Brian lets his head sink further into the bed as he thinks up an excuse. "I don't want to...stain the bed." He breathes hard, trying to ignore the empty ache between his legs and the hunger that still lies dormant in his belly.

You lightly slap his chest, "You're such a hard ass."

His chapped lips form a small smile, "I know. You can make it up to me after our second date."

"Second date? We didn't even have our first."

"This wasn't our first?"

"I can't believe you. The first time I fuck on the first date and he doesn't even cum," you say sarcastically and roll your eyes.

Brian sniffs at the small jab, "Take it as an apology."

You fiddle with a loose thread on his sweater and as he watches your fingers pick at it, the erection thankfully dies down. He's only had a little taste of you. And he wants more than a missed date and a quick fuck on a mattress that hundreds of other customers have laid on. So much more.

Brian clears his throat, "About the second date. Maybe we could have dinner at my place. I've been told I'm a pretty good cook."

"Oh, he's pretty, he can get me off, he can cook...what else can you do?"

"Je ne fais pas grand chose d'autre."

Your eyes light up, "Where have you been my entire life?"

Smiling once more and only offering a little laugh, his arm around your shoulder pulls you closer into his side. He wondered if the scent of your arousal would be enough to consider the mattress ruined. Yeah, then I'd take it, he thinks to himself as he eyes flutter closed.

[citrinesparkles]

doctor todd.

jason todd x gender neutral vigilante!reader. 1,875 words. notes: requested by @jason-redhood as part of my hundred followers celebration! this got a lot longer than i intended, oopsies. thanks for requesting- hope you enjoy! warnings: tending wounds, mentions of food.

"y'know, lurking outside somebody's window is a good way to get yourself shot," jason called over his shoulder.

"i'll keep that in mind," you said, voice strained enough to shoot dread into his veins and draw his attention completely away from his work.

he set the gun he had been cleaning on the table and twisted around to find you gingerly sliding through the open window.

"hey," you mumbled, giving him a weak wave after your boots hit the floor. "sorry for not calling, i just..."

you were backlit, the glow of the city making it impossible to see your features from the dining area- but your posture alone was enough to have him shoving his chair back and crossing his apartment.

"how bad?" he asked, stopping a few steps back, now able to make out the tears in your suit and the bruises around your mask.

"pretty sure i sprained my wrist, and there's a poorly-bandaged gash on my leg, but otherwise i'm peachy."

"how bad's the leg?"

"i'm... not sure. bad enough that i think i need your help." you patted the windowsill with a gloved hand. "obviously."

he nodded and slid to your good side, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. "okay. c'mon, my stuff's in the bathroom."

-

"here." he handed you a pair of shorts and a large tank top. "change into this so i can get to the wounds, okay? i'll be right out here if you need anything."

-

"you're good!" you called.

he nudged the bathroom door back open and scooped your uniform up from the floor, carefully putting it in a canvas bag and tying the handles together before setting it in the tub to deal with later. "alright," he sighed, turning back to face you.

his clothes looked way too right on you, he realized, a wave of emotion he would vehemently deny surging through his chest and pushing heat to his neck and cheeks.

"alright?"

"okay. alright. uh-" he jerked a thumb at the counter- "up here, i guess, so i can see your leg."

you propped one foot on the toilet lid and braced your good hand against his shoulder, his hands instinctively coming up to hover around your waist as you pushed yourself up and settled next to the sink.

the grateful smile you gave him was enough to tug his lips into a smile of his own.

"you're up, doctor todd," you teased.

he stepped forward with a halfhearted eyeroll, fingers brushing the cloth tied hastily around your leg. "can i take this off?"

"go ahead."

he tugged gently at the knot, wincing when you inhaled sharply. "sorry."

the scrap fell away, revealing dried blood and an open wound on the outside of your thigh.

"yeesh, that is nasty," he said.

you scoffed lightly. "gee, thanks."

"hey, if you wanted a nice doctor, you probably should have gone somewhere else." he shifted to the side, grabbing a clean cloth and bottle of alcohol. "fair warning, you're really not gonna like me here in a minute."

your quick "i seriously doubt that." was greeted with a grin that felt a little too fond for his liking.

he told himself it was for your benefit.

...yeah, that sounded good.

he could live with that.

-

he made quick work of cleaning the gash, doing his best to distract you by making stupid small talk about the horrible movie he'd sat through that morning because the tv remote had been out of reach and the mediocre new coffee shop with dry blueberry muffins.

"was the coffee okay, at least?"

"okay, yeah, but not 'five-dollars-fifty' okay. if i hadn't been falling asleep in line i probably would have left when i saw the price."

"there's a nice one up by my place, they make the best blueberry muffins ever."

he hummed. "i'll keep that in mind, next time i'm over that way." he leaned back, studying your cut. "i think stitches would probably be smart."

you groaned. "of course they would."

"i'm okay to do them- i do them on myself- but if you want i can give you a lift to a hospital or something."

"no. if you can, i want you to do them. i trust you."

he sat with that for a minute, searching your face for any hesitation. when he found none, he nodded. "okay."

-

as you both expected, it sucked.

to make things worse, he was rapidly running out of mindless things to talk about.

how many times could two people really argue about pizza toppings before it got old?

-

"alright, done."

"holy shit, finally." you slumped back, leaning on your good hand for a moment before your head snapped back up. "no, not like- i meant thank you, you did great, i'm not being an ingrate-"

"i know, relax." he nudged your knee with a goofy smile. "here, gimme your wrist."

you pouted (which, yes, that was also adorable, much to his dismay), carefully stretching your bad arm out.

he took your hand gently, scooping it up in one of his and bracing your forearm up with his other. "it's actually not too bad, considering you hit hard enough to tear your glove. i'm gonna clean the scrapes here up, though, okay?"

"do i really get a choice?"

"it's your body, so, yeah."

you sighed dramatically. "fine, if you insist. go ahead, clean my wounds for me."

-

he was quiet this time, focusing intently on removing bits of dirt and stuff from your raw palm with a set of tweezers.

trying to ignore the way your eyes seemed to linger on him now that he was looking down.

he set the tweezers aside, glancing up at you to find you smiling at him thoughtfully, and dropped his gaze just as quickly as he had lifted it. "what, you enjoying making me do all the work?"

"you could say that, yeah."

he scoffed. "well, you're going to enjoy it a lot less in a second. time for the alcohol again."

"ugh."

-

he managed to dig up an old wrist brace in the back of his sock drawer. a little big for you, but it would work for now, he figured.

"may i?"

you nodded and held your arm back out for him to loop the brace over your thumb and tuck the velcro strap under and around, pulling it snug against your skin before sticking it to itself.

-

"last one, tough stuff." he pointed at your cheek, where a small patch of dried blood stained your skin. "ready?'

you nodded tiredly. "let's just get this over with. this counter isn't as comfortable as it looks."

he chuckled, dampening the softest cloth he had and wringing it out. "sorry, i didn't think i needed to get an apartment with counter cushions." he raised his left hand up, hovering an inch or so below your chin. "uh, can i..?"

your eyes widened, glancing at his hand. "oh, uh, sure. yeah."

he moved slowly, raising it to cup your chin softly with his middle and forefinger on one side and thumb on the other. "this okay?"

"mhm." your eyes slid shut and he could almost believe that you sank into his touch.

if it wasn't absolutely insane, anyway. his touch wasn't exactly the kind people sank into- much less people like you. people that good, that caring, that stunning? yeah, no.

he tilted your head to the side slightly, rubbing gentle circles across your cheekbone with the cloth and watching as the blood faded.

"so, who did this?" he asked softly, casually.

apparently not casually enough, though, because you snorted at him. "why, you think you need to go avenge me? defend my honor or something?"

"no! i'm just curious. just... making conversation."

your eyes opened, amusement dancing in them and threatening to hypnotize him. "good. i shouldn't have to tell you who won that fight, jay."

"well, i mean, you are missing a chunk of your thigh."

"aw, is the big bad vigilante worried about lil old me?"

he squeezed your face gently, pushing your cheeks up and forward into a goofy fish face. "it's rude to tease the guy tending to your wounds, babe."

he definitely didn't imagine your breath hitching. "babe, huh?" you asked playfully.

"shut up," he grumbled. "don't make me regret helping."

-

"alright, looks like that's the last scrape. you're all cleaned up."

"thanks, jason." you smiled up at him, soft and warm and genuine. "i really appreciate this."

"yeah, yeah." he squeezed your jaw again. "try not to make it a habit."

"mhm." a moment passed quietly before you spoke quietly. "so, you gonna do something here, or can i have my face back?"

he froze.

your mouth- which he was really trying not to look at- shifted into a confident smirk, a challenge written clearly in the angle of your lips.

your eyes, bright under the harsh lighting, told a different story. one of vulnerability, and want, and something close to fear.

"do you want me to?" his voice was hoarser than he'd intended, and he swore you could hear his heartbeat echoing in it.

your gaze dipped to his lips. "would it make everything super weird?"

"you just came crawling through my window in the middle of the night in a mask and kevlar. i think things are already weird."

he felt your hum under his fingers. "then why not?"

"do you really want me to answer that?"

"jason, will you please just kiss me already?"

"well, you did say please." he leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to slip away or yell 'sike!'

all you did was bring your good hand up to his collar and pull him towards you.

your lips were soft and gentle, and the way they pulled upwards slightly when his hand slid from your jaw to cup your cheek was something he'd be thinking about for weeks.

when he eventually pulled back, it took him a moment to open his eyes. he was half convinced that if he did, it would be to his bedroom ceiling, the past half an hour all a dream.

instead, he found your fond gaze.

"finally."

he let out a huff of laughter, thumb running over your cheek. "you should stay here tonight."

"w-"

"not like that," he clarified quickly. "you have stitches, you shouldn't go leaping across rooftops tonight. i can take the couch."

"hm." you smoothed out his shirt collar, the barely-there brush of your fingers against his shoulder almost tugging a whine out of him. "or i can take the couch, and then you can take me home in the morning and let me treat you to an actual blueberry muffin."

"are you asking me out?" it was a teasing comment, paired with a tiny smirk meant to fluster you.

but it was also a reality check.

you seemed to catch the second meaning. "yeah, i am. would you, please, let me take you out on a date?"

"i'll have to check my calenda-"

"you're so full of it."

"yeah, probably."

"is that a yes?"

he laughed, bringing his other hand up to squeeze your knee. "yeah, i can let you take me on a date. i could use a good muffin."

[cherry-gemz]

Summary: This is a continuation of the movie Before We Go and my interpretation and imagination of an A/U. Brooke is you (Y/N) and Nick is still Nick :)

Prompt: "Just admit that I'm right." for @the-ce-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles for Nick Vaughan.

Pairings: Nick Vaughan x Y/N

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: <2k...is this a drabble still? Oopsies XD

A/N: I watched this movie for the first time just last week. It's now one of my top 3 Cevans movies! While I'm all for a romantic, serendipitous, spontaneous trope...much like Before Sunrise *no spoilers*, the ending was great, but I wanted a different spin. No pressure...yah, right! Either way, hope you enjoy xx.

Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss @tonystankschild @a-little-counter-esperanto

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

You sniff and rub the end of your coat sleeve with your nose. Had to be the chill in the air, you thought. Not the fact that you just spent the most amazing and life changing night with a man you just met hours before and it was ending.

You stare out the train’s window; the gentle hum of the cart gliding across the steel tracks echoed in your thoughts. You shook your head in thinking that you made a mistake. I should have stayed...I should have told him how I felt…

“Nick. It's you again. Listen. I want to give you one more piece of advice. You're gonna be playing one night... Grand Central... thinking of every reason in the world to not go see the girl that broke your heart. Then, you're gonna meet somebody. And now, at first, she's gonna seem… icy. You're gonna know right away she's trouble. She's gonna take all your money. You're probably gonna get punched in the face. But stay with her; you're gonna need her a lot more than she needs you. And at the end of the night, you're gonna want to say some things, but don't. Don't ruin it. It's nothing she doesn't already know. Just give her a kiss. Wish her good luck. And thank her. Thank her for showing you that you can love more than one person in this life.”

He was unbelievably charming. You said so yourself. His raw talent with the trumpet was beautiful and different from what you were used to. The suburbia of the Boston bubble was what you were forced to live in now. You were from London, you were cultured and refined. Sure things with Michael were exciting at first, but the ho hum of the daily diatribe of routine became loathsome. Dépaysement. But you still never wavered in your marriage. Unlike Michael who had crossed that sacred line and lost your trust. It wasn't even fully the physical aspect that he went to another woman. It was the intimacy of telling her his deepest desires and then some that hurt the most. That he would want to share that with anyone else but you. But tonight. Tonight was what made you see clearly.

"It's possible, isn't it? It's possible that you could meet somebody who's perfect for you even though you're committed to somebody else," you asked as you bit your lip.

"No, no, see, I think if you're committed to somebody, you don't allow yourself to find perfection in someone else."

You found yourself blushing and cupping your cheek in thoughts of Nick. He was right. The whole night was a cluster mess of you trying to get home before Michael so you'd be able to throw away that wretched note. That he'd come to his senses and forget Linny. That he'd realized he was a fool and you'd start over. Just like old times.

However, slowly that feeling of reconciliation faded away little by little as each hour in the city passed. You couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but somehow the scrappy trumpet player Nick Vaughan etched his way into your icy heart and left an impression and stayed.

His fluffy, dark hair - so soft and inviting for you to rake your fingers through it was enough to drive you mad. His scruffy beard, which tickled when you kissed. You already loved ghosting your palms over it softly and imagined being able to do it whenever you wished. He said earlier into the night you weren't his type; you scoffed, but we're annoyed that it bothered you. You were a classic model of what guys were into, looks wise. Sure, your attitude was what rubbed some people the wrong way, but Americans really were too sensitive.

He however...he was the full package. Every toothy grin, wink, and full hearty laugh. He was addicting. He was a dead ringer for a heartthrob, but you also couldn't hate the guy for it. He was the friend you'd call to bail you out of jail at 4am and the boyfriend that you could see settling down with. It was nauseating really.

And then his lips. His soft lips...you can’t believe you kissed him in the hotel room. And then again at the train station. But you would have kicked yourself for not doing so in the first place. The way your fingers interlaced themselves on his terry cloth robe, how desperately you wanted to press your body against his. All you wanted was for him to feel that burning need within the apex between your thighs and extinguish it all night. But it was more than that, he was what you were missing. But you were kidding yourself. You weren’t running to Michael, you were running away from Nick.

But why? Because of the unknown? Because he actually knew who you were deep down inside? How could a man you barely knew, change you? Change what you thought was true, what you thought was love?

You dove your hand into your wool jacket’s pockets to push any thoughts of self-doubt, when you realize there was a piece of cardstock. You were puzzled to find it and immediately smiled in recognizing the hotel survey card. You bit your lip as you read down the survey questions one by one and notice Nick’s handwriting at the bottom, ‘turn over’ with an arrow.

Curious you turn over the hotel card and he’s written the word ‘yes’. Yes? You furrow your brow and contemplate further what he would be saying yes to. You think about the night - the time at the bar, helping him with Hannah, when you went to the psychic reading. Yes? What in the world - and then you turn the card back over and realize that on the second to last question it asked “Will you be likely to return?”

None of the boxes are checked, but he’d written ‘yes’ on the back. Yes. Yes he’ll return? Where? To the hotel? But when? You look up and rush to think about stopping the train dead in its tracks to return back to Grand Station. You breathe out heavily and come to terms that this isn’t a movie. He’s not chasing you down the tracks, jumping on the train to find you. Or is he? You wouldn’t put it past him. The whole night was filled with serendipitous concourses, this would be icing on the cake. You dart your head around to see if he’s in the cable car. It’s like in every rom com movie ending, the man of your dreams will be right there. He’s somehow charmed his way into boarding the train and found you waiting like a princess in her high tower. The train car is dark and bleak, only a few passengers are riding it as it’s the first route to Boston on a Sunday. You peer over to see if he’s in the next cart, but alas he is not. You slump in your seat and rub your thumb methodically over his words.

"Have you ever had a feeling that somebody was going to play a major part in your life?” you ask.

“Yeah."

“Do you know the most interesting thing about hotel art? It's what's on the back.”

It’s then you realize you have to return to New York. This story wasn’t about you and Michael anymore. No, it was about the man who selflessly helped you while you were in need, not only at your dire hour, but metaphorically as well. This was meant to be. You were meant to miss your train, break your phone, and meet the handsome man named Nick Vaughn. You knew he’d still be in the city because of his audition for the day with Duke at least, if you could just get to him somehow...

*

Your knees bounced as you sat on a cushioned chair in the hotel lobby. You had planned to wait there all day, but then realized the $13 train ticket was your only way of providing you security back home. So you went home. Confronted Michael. Cursed, cried, and then relief rushed over you as he had read your letter and how you knew about the affair. How you wanted to throw fists on his chest and tell him how much you hated him. But once you saw him, you found it didn't matter to you anymore. Someone else was worth fighting for. Your marriage was over. The hatred and spite you once had for your husband had dissipated. Your world didn't end like you thought it would. This wasn't your only chance at love. You were choosing to be happy, whether it was with Nick or not. This was the first time you were going to jump without having a net.

And Nick was wrong. Michael didn't want to work things out, he was coming to tell you that he loved you, but that and he'd be returning to Atlanta for good. The house, car, everything was yours: Nick said so himself, you gotta be okay with not being okay. So you walked away. You made the choice just like the psychic said and took it in stride, you faced the music.

However now you found yourself back in New York. Not the once stranded woman at a crossroads less than 24 hours before, but the woman that made a choice. You were worried that Nick would see it as you running away again. Running away because Michael didn't choose you. But in reality you didn't choose each other.

Still without an ID, you took your car and better against the four hour drive to the city and hoped a cop wouldn't pull you over. You thought of the night in the hotel. The laughs, the closeness you two encountered. The playful and cheeky way he could make you feel seen. You were starting to get nervous, what if he doesn't show up? What if I missed my chance?

"I'm an idiot," you murmur to yourself. "I can't believe I'm here."

You stand up and realize there Nick was there in your path. He looked a little worn, obviously from staying up all night. But he had changed and showered from the looks of it, and his signature trumpet case held in his hand.

"Well look who it is. The biggest loser in New York."

You laughed and blushed at the sight of him. He slung his trumpet case over his broad shoulder and walked over to close the gap.

“Just admit that I’m right.”

"Admit what?" You ask as you find yourself touching his jacket sleeve.

"Admit that you couldn't get enough of me." You hitched a breath from his words.

"You can say that."

"I can't believe you came back," he responded. His blue eyes gazed into yours as he brushed away a tendril of hair from your face.

"I read your answer to the survey...on the back."

"The stay did exceed my expectations and I did say I would return," he smiles.

"And here you are."

"Here I am…" he pulls away slightly as he's reminded that you're married.

"I jumped," you replied.

He's taken back by your statement and furrows his brow.

"What? With what?"

"I told Michael it was over."

"Wow. I'm so...sorry, Y/N."

"Don't be. You said so yourself, at some point it was time to face the music."

He nodded, absorbing the information.

"Say what's in your head."

He shook his head and grinned,"I'm just glad you came back is all."

"Yeah? How'd you know?"

"I didn't. Just sure as hell hoped you would."

He intertwines your fingers with his and holds tight. Like a missing puzzle piece found, your hand fits perfectly with his.

"Whaddya say we get out of here?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I may know a place," he smiles devilishly and gives your knuckles a kiss.

You grab his dress shirt collar and turn him towards you. He runs his hands through your hair and places his lips upon yours, kissing you deeply. It's a kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after you part, neither open your eyes for a few moments afterwards and he embraces you tightly.

"Good, because I'm not going anywhere."

[unholyplumpprincess]

Good Boy

For Anon who asked: nnnnot sure if this is a full prompt or not but. bloodhound realllly teasing gibralter? like. edging consistently for a week or so till all gib can think about it bein a Good Boy for bloodhound? idk if thats smth ud be into w those two BUT

Gibhound is my weakness and I wrote more than a drabble oopsie daisy!!!

Reblogs > Likes

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Gibraltar/Bloodhound

Warnings: NSFT/R18+, Gibraltar gets his dick sucked like he’s gonna die, orgasm denial and edging mentioned, face fucking, Bloodhound’s various body mods mentioned (piercings + Tattoos), calling someone a good boy, kinda d/s in case that ain’t ya style!

Words: 1.5k

________________

Bloodhound had the patience of a god.

What more could you expect from the apex predator? A hunter renowned even among the very gods they worshipped? Patience was one of their strongest attributes. It took patience to hunt, it took patience to analyze a potential mate, and it took patience to successfully woo said mate into being theirs.

Not that Makoa was anything but a prize to be won, truly a beautiful specimen that they adored with all their heart. They had wooed him with soft letters and gentle words, carefully opening their heart to him as he did his arms to them. A home made in the shape of a man with the biggest heart they’d ever seen.

And yet, patience may have been delicious to receive during their romantic months- Makoa, in turn, did not like their patience for things in the bedroom.

~Rest under the cut~

A week. A full week they would bring him to the edge in bed. They liked to tease him, insisting on pushing all the right buttons. Kissing his neck, biting his ear, growling in it and grinding their hips into his as they rested atop his lap. Makoa would beg, grab their hips with desperation and encourage them to keep going, dry hump up into them and whine about how unfair they were being.

They would always murmur for him to let go, licking up his neck to nibble at his jawline and lift their hips up so Makoa would be forced to shake and shudder. Leaking in his pants and choking on a sob of need as Bloodhound would kiss him gently and ease him back into a normal, but desperate state.

Bloodhound loved to edge him. It was a game, really, and Makoa became in tune with everything they did. In the arena, it was even more torturous if they were the one coming after him. He’d just feel the need to bare his throat when they climbed atop him, gently resting their foreheads together and cooing about how they won before using their hatchet to end him personally.

And he’d wake up in the medical bay, hard, in tears and have to take a cold shower.

Bloodhound knew what they were doing. But furthermore, they had consent. Before they even began this teasing, they had asked if it was something he thought he could handle. Makoa, loving a challenge, had eagerly agreed and said how hard could it be!

Day three is when he had started to realize how bad they meant to tease him.

Seven days in, Bloodhound is just now coming from the shower. They have a sports bra on and their gray sweatpants hanging low on their wide hips. Their tattoos, scars, almost everything on display on their glistening skin. They have their hair pulled up into a ponytail, still dry from not washing it this time around with a few curls framing their face. They look beautiful and deadly as they pad into the bedroom, only to glance over at the bed where Makoa rests.

He’s naked. His own wavy hair curling around his face and free of his bun. His hands rest in his own hair, gripping with his legs slightly spread to show his hard, fat cock resting against his abdomen.

Just like Bloodhound had left him.

Before they’d showered, they’d worked him up, grinding in his lap before cooing about needing a shower and told him to wait for them. If he waited, they would reward him greatly.

“What a good boy. Did you not touch yourself at all?” They croon like a preening bird, stalking closer to the bed as Makoa whimpers and lightly shakes his head. His fingers tighten in his hair, his shut eyes parting open to peek down at them where they slide between his legs.

One clawed hand gently cups his balls, hearing his breath hitch as their own full lips quirk in a dangerous grin. They let their thumb gently follow the seam, up to his cock where their other hand wraps around the base and gives a fluid stroke.

Immediately Makoa’s hips lurch up- desperate for their touch as he chokes on a cry. “Fuck, baby-” He practically sobs, turning his head to the side and full body shuddering. He’s far too pent up, too sensitive, it all felt far too good.

“Perhaps,” Bloodhound gently chuckles back, “But I fear you are too sensitive for such an event...I did promise you a reward, though, my love, and you shall receive.”

Their words are promising as they shift to gently tug at Makoa. He follows until he can sit on the edge of the bed, watching them move to the floor to rest on their knees. Helplessly his cock jerks when they reach up to tighten their ponytail, tucking a loose strand of hair behind their pierced ear to prepare.

“Hound...” He murmurs adoringly, watching them as Bloodhound peeks up at their nickname, cocking their head to the side in that puppy-like manner they always did. Except their eyes gleam with mischief as they hum fondly back at him.

When they stroke his cock to pull back foreskin and reveal the flushed head, their full lips wrap around the head of his cock and the sight alone makes Makoa cry out. His hands immediately fly for their head, but he only rests a hand encouragingly at the base of their ponytail just to hold. The other grabs at the sheets next to his hip, his head falling forward so he doesn’t miss the show.

They’re always so pretty like this. Treating his cock like a treat as they suckle on the head, pulling off to lick down the base and coming right back up. Sometimes they part their mouth to show their glinting double canines, sticking out their pierced tongue and gently slapping his cock on their tongue, leaving a string of pre-cum attached that they greedily lick up.

Makoa is sensitive and they know it, making a show of it as they gently cup his balls and squeeze. One hand stroking his cock as their cheek rests against the shaft and they coo up at him, “Such a good boy. You have been so good for me all week. Letting me do whatever I wished.”

The praise gets him, his hips jerking up but only succeeding in smearing pre-cum across their cheek and making them filthy. The sight alone is enough to make him whimper, seeing them disheveled always did something to him. Especially when they tilt their head to the side to nose at his cock, parting their lips to lick heavily across the head.

“Consider this your reward. You may use me how you like.” They murmur against his silken flesh, pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to the head and near making Makoa cum right then and there if it wasn’t for the red hot desire coursing through him.

With shaking fingers he guides them by their ponytail to the head of his cock. Letting them lap and suckle there before gently pressing down to feel their resistance. When he finds none, he whimpers and pushes them down until they’re about halfway down on his cock. There’s a small adjustment where Makoa stands up, letting Bloodhound scoot back a bit and curl their fingers on his thighs to brace themself.

When Makoa starts fucking their mouth, they make the prettiest face with their eyebrows knitted and eyes half lidded as they look up at him. They paw at his thighs, clawing with soft whines in their own throat that can hardly be heard over the sound of his groans and grunts.

“Yes- shit, just like that.” Makoa whines out, hips slapping forward once and making Hound’s nose bury in his mound. Their fingers scrabble briefly, relaxing their throat to let him remain buried. The sight of their lashes fluttering and their cheeks flushed does it for him.

When he cums, he does so with a cry of ‘Thank you’s. His face twists beautifully in pleasure, tucking his head to the side as his eyebrows knit and his hips jerk weakly. After the first two jerks he pulls from their throat, whimpering under his breath when they know exactly what he wants. Their lips part again, sticking out their tongue where he grip his own cock, resting the head there and cumming all across their canines and tongue. His other hand stroking their hair with Makoa’s desperate whimpers softening.

Exhausted and overstimulated, Makoa plops back onto the bed with a shudder and his entire body looking way less taut than before. He briefly makes out the feeling of kisses up his legs and thighs before Bloodhound is joining him on the bed, pressing their lips together and making Makoa taste himself on their mouth.

His cock gives another interested twitch when they part, Bloodhound’s chuckle resounding in his ear as they nip the lobe. “Who owns you, my love?”

Makoa lets out a soft laugh in turn, too weak to come up with something witty as he turns his head and pecks their nose.

“You. Every bit of me.”

“Good boy.”

[dokoni-mo]

Fireworks || Darth Vader x Reader

(A/N ***please read if you havent read the epilouge to my series*** : yes hi I wanted this to go out earlier but oopsie ig lmao, but I was inspired by the fireworks of last night so yuhhh :))) This is based off my vader x reader series, but not canon to the story!! (or maybe it is, i’ll let you be the judge of that). for those of you who havent read the epilogue of my series Far Away, Together, all you need to know is that vader and his bby yeeted out the empire and now are living in the middle of nowhere together :)) taglists are open, enjoy!!)

(P.S.: if you wanna read the epilogue, you can find it here, as well as all the other chapters of FaT)

WARNINGS: None!! Very fluffy

Key: (F/N) = first name 

Word Count: ~3200

~~~

You both always hated it when you had to go to the wreckage, but you both knew that you had to. 

After fixing your love a nice lunch and leaving him to eat in his meditation chamber, you begrudgingly pulled on your going-out clothes, a slight frown on your face all the while. Pulling on your walking boots and securing your tools to your belt, you heard your love’s meditation chamber open and close, alongside his heavy footsteps drawing closer and closer to you. Your hearing perking up, you noticed how he stopped in the doorway without having to turn your head. 

You smiled to yourself. You could feel his gaze on you, warming your heart. 

“When do you plan to return, darling?” Vader asked you, his voice as deep and rumbling as ever. If this had been some years ago, you would have been scared. But now, all you felt was warmth. 

Maker, you were so in love. 

“I’ll be back before sundown, Vee.” you responded without turning to him, combing out your hair with your fingers. 

You could practically feel how much he didn’t like that. It made the air thick yet almost uncomfortably sharp at the same time. Your smile faded a little at this. You hated leaving for so long just as much as he did, but you had to go. His bacta tank had been acting funky recently, and you had finally narrowed the problem down to the filter. 

And, of course, you were all out of filters. 

This meant you had to go to the wreckage of the crashed Star Destroyer to find a new one, or at least the parts you needed to make one. 

Your favorite activity. 

Your smile now completely faded away, you reached inside one of your dresser drawers, retrieving out a long, black cloth from it. The ends of the cloth were heavily tattered and torn, and there were even large holes in some areas. 

His old cape. 

Since he hardly wore it anymore, you took it over as your own. He had long since abandoned the black one for a medium-toned blue one you had made him not too long ago. He told you that he wore that one because you had made it, but you knew the real reason. 

After the Empire fell, he wanted to shed as much of the past as possible, and did this little by little. It started with his cape, but has slowly branched out to other means. 

For example, his saber. 

“Take my weapon with you, dear. Use it to protect yourself while I am not present.” you heard him say as you fastened his old cape around your shoulder such that the cloth ran diagonally across your body, scraping only slightly on the floor. Turning to face him, you smiled up at his mask, the sound of his steady breath filling your ears. 

He always worried about you. Ever since you had professed your love for one another, he seemed to never stop worrying. You would ordinarily tease him for things like this, but you knew better in this situation. You knew he had lost so many in his life… 

And you knew losing you would destroy him, once and for all. 

So, it was clear to you why he troubled himself so much about you. And it was even clearer why this worry was even greater when you had to make these trips. He couldn’t come with you, much to your shared disdain. The hike would be too strenuous on him. Even though he had survived his encounter with his old master…

It still did a large number on his health. 

You didn’t want to shorten his lifespan, so you made these trips by yourself. 

Even though you both knew this and accepted it, this didn’t stop his worry. He always made you take his saber with you, even if you had your own blaster. 

Stepping closer to your love, your eyes stayed upon his mask as you took one of his hands into your own, pressing a soft kiss on the leather of his gloves as he looked down upon your face. Looking back up to meet his gaze, a small, warm smile enveloped your features. 

Vader wondered how someone could be so damn perfect. 

“I will, don’t worry.” you assured him, “Where is it?” 

“I have placed it in our safe, my sweet.” he rumbled out, his gaze unable to falter from off of your frame. 

Giving him a firm nod and standing on your tip-toes, you placed a small peck on the cheek of his mask before pushing past him, the tatters of his old cape upon your shoulders fluttering in the breeze of your steps. 

Vader almost never carried his saber anymore. The crimson blade only reminded him of the past. He only seemed to wield it if he sensed some sort of danger threatening to disrupt your shared home. These instances were often in the middle of the night, and often woke you up from your sleep. And, even more often, there was absolutely no danger. 

He was always so hard to calm down on those nights…

And even harder to convince to go back to sleep. 

Stopping your steps in front of the safe, your knelt down in front of its door, punching in the code to open it as you felt his presence draw behind you. Reaching in, you wrapped your hands around the cool, polished metal of the hilt of his saber, attaching it to your belt as you closed the safe and stood up again. Turning on your heel, you were a bit spooked when you realized just how close he was. Taking a tiny step back, you looked up at his mask. 

He seemed… off. 

Even more so than usually when you had to go out. 

Feeling his shift in mood, you shot up a warm smile at him before turning your gaze to the cape around his shoulders. Reaching your hands up, you took the blue cloth into your hands, smoothing it out as you spoke. 

“Vee, I’ll be fine. I’ve done this a million times before, and there’s always nothing out there.” you tried to reassure him. 

“I am aware, my dear.” he rumbled out. 

Despite him not having much flavor to the inflections in his deep voice, you knew he wasn’t convinced. Moving your hands from his lapel to his mask, you cradled the metal in your palms, making him meet your gaze. 

“Then there’s no need to worry, hmm?” 

Gazing down at you in a long moment of silence, Vader contemplated your words. You wondered if he would ever say anything, but were quickly met with an answer as he placed his much larger hands upon yours. 

“I suppose not…” he finally said. 

You breathed out a smile as he continued. 

“But please do be careful, my sweet. I shall eagerly await your return.” 

Letting out a soft giggle, you gave him a broad, dopey smile as you spoke your response. 

“Whatever you say, loverboy.” 

~~~

The hike to the wreckage had left you sweaty and sore. It always did, but this didn’t stop you from complaining silently to yourself. Wiping the sweat that moistened your brow, you gazed upon the familiar wreckage for a moment before stepping inside, watching the ground to avoid any missteps. 

The filters were usually located in the old medical bay of the old Star Destroyer. Fortunately, the walk from the entrance to the demolished medical bay wasn’t all that far. However, it was extremely dark. The power of this ship had gone out long ago, and darkness had quickly made it’s new home in it's dilapidated walls. Your pupils widening in the dark, you reached down to your belt, pushing your cape out of the way. 

Your hand finding a long, cool cylinder of metal, you shot out a quick smile as your fingers wrapped around it. 

Your love always was there for you, to guide you in the dark. 

Unclipping the saber from your belt, you made sure to point the tip away from you as you pushed the igniter, springing the weapon to life. With a continuous, dull humm, the crimson of the blade illuminated your face in red, as well as your nearby surroundings. Wrapping your other hand around the hilt, you held your love’s weapon firmly as you made your way through the wreckage, following the red light that surrounded you. 

Trailing on for a long while, you were eventually met with the old medical wing. Securing the saber into your left hand, you held it above your head as you pushed the doors open, the metal making an awful squeak as you did so. 

Searching around the cracked and damaged storage bins and compartments of the old unit, you were pleased when you found a clean, unused filter. Hissing out a quiet yes to yourself, you took Vader’s old cape from off your shoulders and placed it on the ground. Putting the filter on top of the cloth, you made a make-shift bag out of the cape. 

Bunching up the fabric and slinging it over your shoulder, you jumped as you heard a crash from behind you. Letting out a yelp and turning on your heel quickly, your heart started to race as you gripped both hands onto the crimson blade’s hilt, ready to strike at any moment. 

When you were greeted with nothing but the sight of wreckage, you let your shoulders relax. Your heartrate slowing, you realized that there were no intruders or critters there to kill you. Dropping your gaze to the floor, you were met with the sight of a knocked-over crate. Focusing your eyes harder, you noticed an odd substance spilling out of the crate. 

Kneeling down, you kept your lover’s saber above your head as you went in for a closer look. Your eyes adjusting in the red light, you were able to make out what the substance was. 

Powder. 

Overcome by your curiosity, you reached your hand down and took a few granules of the powder in between your pointer finger and thumb. Rubbing your two phalanges together as you brought them closer to your face, your eyebrows raised as you finally were able to deduce what it was. 

Black powder. 

Shifting your gaze down to the contents of the knocked-over crate, you saw that there were other tubes of other types of powders from a plethora of different materials. 

Seeing these items struck an old chord deep inside you. You were familiar with what they would do when mixed together, but this familiarity was sourced from a long, long time ago. All the way back from when the empire was just forming. All the way back from your home planet…

As the memories flooded your mind, you felt the grip you had on your love’s saber tighten without you having to think about it. Realizing this, your lips parted as the beginnings of an idea formed in your mind. Letting it form for a few more moments, you smiled softly as you slipped the cape-bag off of your shoulders and opened it up, placing a few canisters of powder into it alongside the filter. 

Tonight would be a good night for you and him. 

~~~

Just as you had promised, you were back to the house before sundown. In fact, the excitement you felt from your idea coupled with the promise of returning to him made you come back before the sun had even begun to set, your steps having a certain pep to them. 

Pushing open the door to your shared home, you called out an I’m home as you closed it behind you. Almost instantly, you heard the sound of his boots thudding over to you, alongside the sound of his respirator. Setting down his saber on a small table, you noticed in your peripheral a large, looming, black figure watching you from afar. A smile forming on your face, you turned your head towards the figure. 

Your love. 

You could tell from the aura around him that he was happy you were home again. 

“(F/N),” he rumbled out, a hint of amusement in his voice, “How was your voyage?”

“It was good.” you responded, adjusting the cape-bag on your shoulder as you kicked off your boots, “I found another filter, and even a little surprise for later.” 

Your love tilted his armored head at this. He often did when he was curious.

He was too damn cute sometimes. 

“A surprise?” he asked. 

“Yes, a surprise, Vee.” you said as you walked up to him, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft, quick kiss on his mask’s cheek as you walked past him to the living area. 

Turning to face you, your love stayed put as he spoke, his gaze seemingly unable to falter off of your frame as you poured your bag’s contents out on the floor and sat in front of it. 

“What is it, darling?” he asked, making you breathe out a giggle as you glanced up at him. 

“If I tell you, then it won’t be a surprise anymore.” you said. 

You could tell he was miffed as you saw his shoulders and posture stiffen. You could only smile as you started to poke through the items you had brought home. 

“I wish to know what you are scheming, my dear.” he rumbled out. 

You giggled again. Maker, you found him almost too damn cute. 

“You’ll find out eventually what I’m scheming, love.” you said as you began to unscrew the lids to the powder canisters, “I promise you’ll like it.” 

“I do not doubt that, my sweet.”

“Then stop fretting.” you giggled again, “Come on, you can help by keeping me company while I set this up.” 

Realizing that he would get absolutely nowhere by pestering you further, Vader gave in to your scheme. Entering into the living room, he found a place where he could comfortably watch you work. 

Watching you do what you were best at was one of his favorite pass-times. 

And knowing what you were doing was for him only made it better. 

~~~

He was spending some time in his meditation chamber when you finished. Instead of immediately getting him out of there, you took the opportunity to set up your scheme, as he called it.

Taking a blanket out of your storage closet, you picked up your scheme alongside the cloth and carried it outside. Finding a nice clearing of grass, you laid out the blanket in just the right spot.

It was now night time, and the cool breeze of the darkness made your hair sway as you set up your scheme. Once it was all finished, you stood up from your crouching position, looking out on the fields of  your new home planet with a small smile on your face. 

It was the perfect night. It was the perfect night for him. The stars were as bright as ever, and the rich blues and blacks of night accented the green of the vegetation so very well. 

This was all for him. You loved him endlessly, and you dedicated yourself to making the rest of his days as comfortable as possible. He had been through so, so much… 

And you hoped that nights like this would help him accept everything and move on. 

Maker above, did you try so hard to make him accept the past. 

But you didn’t mind. 

Not one bit. 

Dusting off your hands, you headed back inside once everything was complete. Making your way into your shared bedroom, you focused your gaze upon the meditation pod that took up nearly half of the space. Slowly but surely, you reached up your hand and knocked gently on the metal. 

“Vee?” you called out, hoping you weren’t disturbing him too much, “Your surprise is ready, if you wanna come out…” 

After a moment, the metal of the pod finally raised up with a sharp hiss, causing you to take a step back. Watching him rise from his seated position and begin the motions of stepping out, you stepped forward. Taking one of his hands into yours and draping your arm across his back, you helped him step down from the pod, giving him support in case he started to feel weak. 

“Have you finished your scheme, darling?” he asked you once he was stable. 

You breathed out a smile, keeping his hands secure in your own. 

“Yes, love. My scheme is done,” you said, “Come on, come see.” 

With that, you turned on your heel and led him by the hand outside. You could feel that he was perplexed, but pushed on anyway. You only stopped once you reached the blanket you had laid out. 

“Here we are,” you cooed, “Take a seat, Vee.” 

Following your request, he shifted his weight to sit upon the blanket, leaning some of it upon you as you helped him be seated. Taking a seat next to him, you reached out and grabbed a panel of buttons you had thrown together that evening. Fiddling with the panel, Vader looked down at you as you worked, feeling his heart swell with awe and pride. 

He had never been so in love. 

“Do you wish to finally tell me what this plot is, my dear?” he asked, making you smile. 

“Yes, I do.” you responded without looking up from the buttons. 

“Then please, enlighten me.” 

Letting out a giggle at his teasing vocabulary, you spoke your response. 

“Well, in my home village, we called them color rockets, but you probably know them as fireworks. We would make our own and launch them on holidays or days of harvest…” 

Pressing one final button, the sound of one of your home-made fireworks launching filled your ears. Shifting your gaze to the sky, your smile broadened as you saw the streaks of color illuminate the night, the hues reflecting on your skin and in yours eyes. 

Looking to him, your eyes softened with warmth as  you continued. 

“Or, we would make them as a token of love for our partners.”

Vader couldn’t even begin to think of something to say in that moment. He was unquestionably, undeniably, and totally speechless. 

You were so damn beautiful. Both inside and out, your beauty outshone even the brightest stars in the galaxy. Even though the two of you had been together for years now, he still wondered why you chose him of all people. You were so good, and when the two of you met… 

He wasn’t. 

Not in the slightest. 

He was cruel. 

Mean. 

Unforgiving. 

Evil. 

Yet still, even through all the bad, even through all his baggage, even through all the moments where his past came back to haunt him…

You stayed with him. Supported him, even…

Loved him, even. 

And  maker above did he love you for it. 

Alongside all the other million reasons why he loved you. 

He hoped that you didn’t mind that he didn’t know what to say in that moment. The way you smiled up at him and looked at him said that you didn’t, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Reaching up his hand, he placed it upon your cheek, holding your face as gently as he could. He felt his heart swell as your smile broadened as you leaned into his touch, placing your small hands on top of his own. 

Maker above, if Lord Vader were able to stop time…

He would do it in this exact moment. 

Never in his life had he felt so at peace…

So in love…

So relaxed…

So...

Free. 

~~~

TAGS: @captainrexstan , @spaghetti-666 , @breakfastpizzagalaxy , @missmannequin , @clearnostolgia , @easterncryptid​ 

[jettingtothemoon]

Moonlit Embers

➳ pairing: luminary x erik ➳ genre: fluff(?), smut ➳ warnings: smut, fingering, anal, orgasm denial, over-stimulation, swearing, oral, luminary named eleven, luminary speaks in this one ➳ word count: 1960 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which el and erik enjoy their time together under the moonlight. ➳ a/n: this started off kinda fluffy and romantic but then just went straight into filthy smut with no warning. oopsies  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It was late when they made camp. A quick dinner and almost everyone was asleep.

Veronica and Serena lying side by side a little way from the campfire. Rab curled up asleep with one of his magazines. Sylvando softly snoring in an almost melodic tune. Finally, Jade with her back to the rest as she caught up on some well-deserved sleep.

The only two who were still awake were sitting on a log by the fire just a little away from one another. They had been sitting there for a while, not a word spoken between the two. They were waiting. Waiting patiently for everyone else to finally drift off to sleep.

When they were pretty sure everyone was asleep, their hands edged towards each other. Fingers walking along the log between them before they made contact. Erik's fingers settled on top of El's before the latter began to move his own, tangling them with the other boy's.

When they were certain everyone was most definitely asleep and would not notice them, Erik leaned to the side, resting his head against El's shoulder while their hand remained linked together.

They still sat there silently, a little closer than before, and watched the broken embers of the fire start to dwindle. No wood had been added in a good while and all that was left of the fire was a dull flicker, just lighting up the camp they had set up for the night.

Soon, the fire would die completely and it would grow cold. They should retire to their blankets but, they didn't want to let go of each other quite yet.

El leaned his head against Erik's, nestling into the blue hair beside him. It was comfortable, safe. Until Erik lifted his head, nose almost brushing against El's.

"Someone will wake up." El whispered, breath ghosting over Erik's lips.

Erik pushed forward, noses bumping as he quietly breathed out, "I don't care."

Just like that, their lips met. A quiet but hungry dance of passion, of need, of want. Erik pushed against El and the latter had it all to do not to fall from the log they were sitting on.

It had been days since they last slept at an inn. An inn in which the two boys would either already be sharing a room due to sheer lack of space or be sneaking in to meet each other. They didn't know if anyone else had noticed the different aroma that surrounded the two of them, the change in the air around them. If anyone had, they hadn't said anything of it.

Days since they were last like this. Days since they last held each other.

Erik finally stopped for air, tongue licking at the other boy's lips as he pulled away.

"I need you." He hummed, resting his forehead against El's.

El was unsure. He didn't want one of the others to be uncomfortable if they woke up and found the two of them like this. So close, so intimate.

He wrapped his arms around the blue-haired thief, twisting his fingers into his hair as he pressed another light kiss to his lips.

"Come with me."

He got up, fingers barely holding onto Erik's hand as he dragged him away from the dwindling fire.

There was a lake nearby. It was oh so pretty with the moonlight glistening off its surface, the twinkle of stars shining within the ripples. Hidden by berry bushes and tall oak trees. A place of serenity in a world of monsters and fear.

"It's so beautiful." Erik proclaimed although he was not looking at the scenery.

El smiled, oblivious that the words were meant for him, and stopped just before the lake. There was a cliff at the back of the lake, a sparkling waterfall elegantly flowing down into the almost still water. It was as if it fell so softly it barely made a ripple but, the sound of water running was just loud enough to mask the muffled noises of two boys holding onto each other in the darkness of the night.

The only light came from the fireflies, dotted about in the sky as they buzzed around peacefully.

El let go of Erik's hand and walked around the lake, disappearing behind the waterfall as he beckoned for the latter to follow. Of course, Erik wasted no time in chasing after him, his desire to hold the other boy growing with each passing second.

El was not completely surprised when he was pushed back into the cliffside, a pair of hungry lips once again colliding with his own. A tongue slipped into his mouth while a pair of needy hands went up under his shirt. Cold fingers slid against his warm skin, trailing over the dips in the muscles over his abdomen. The lips over his mouth were soon on his neck as two strong hands held his hips and pushed him further back into the cliffside behind him.

"Erik." He breathed with a groan, arms wrapping around the boy's neck to pull him closer.

Erik simply hummed against his skin as he pulled his shirt down over his shoulder, sucking a hickey into the soft skin of his collarbone. Once the circle of skin was a nice dark red, his hands moved upwards as he pulled the fabric of El's shirt up. The latter lifted his arms, allowing Erik to pull his shirt off in one quick motion.

Erik stepped back, taking in the body before him as his eyes scanned every inch of the boy's torso before locating the bulge in his crotch.

"Absolutely beautiful."

In an instant, their lips were together again. Tongues dancing together as hands roamed over bodies. It wasn't long before Erik too was discarding his shirt to the side, his fingers then curling around the hem of El's trousers. He pulled them down, underwear and all, exposing El's most intimate areas to the cold air around him. El hissed at the frosty air as his half-hard cock sprung free.

Lips connected again as they moved from the wall to the floor. El lied back against the damp ground, his naked body shivering at the touch while Erik climbed over him.

"Don't worry, I'll warm you up soon enough." He teased, pulling at El's bottom lip with his teeth.

El groaned, wrapping his legs around Erik to pull him closer, grinding up against him.

"Someone's impatient."

El wanted to scoff as it was Erik who moments ago jumped him like a dog in heat.

Instead, he brought his lips up to ghost over Erik's ear, tugging on his lobe as he groaned, "Just fuck me already."

Erik wasted no time in ridding his own trousers and briefs, his fully erected cock springing against his stomach.

El reached to the side, pulling a small vial out of his trousers pocket. He opened the little glass bottle and passed it to Erik, allowing him to cover his fingers in the liquid. He bit his lip in anticipation, spreading his legs to give Erik the access he needed as he pushed a finger in.

El whined, throwing his head back as his fingers clutched at Erik's hair. The finger in his hole moved in and out a few times before another joined it. He moaned when Erik began to scissor them inside him, stretching him out before adding another. He was fully hard by the time the fingers found his prostate. His back arched and his bit his own hand to stifle his moans.

Erik worked El right up to this orgasm but, before he could release, the fingers inside him were retracted and a hand tightly gripped his cock.

"Not just yet, pretty. We've not even hit the main event yet."

El squirmed and simpered beneath him, back arching as Erik finally pushed into him. If it wasn't for the tight grip on his cock, that alone would have been enough to make him come.

Erik knew this all too well and so, he didn't once loosen his grip on El's throbbing cock as he began to thrust into him.

"L-Let me come. P-Please." he stammered, breath hitching in his throat.

Erik smirked and released his grip, "Okay."

El came undone there and then but Erik's thrusts didn't stop. He just kept pounding into him, hips almost violently snapping into him. His body rocked back and forth on the floor. He wanted to scream out the moment Erik began pumping him again, trying to bring his erection back. The overstimulation was too much. It hurt but it felt so, so good.

"F-Fuck, Erik." He gasped for air, once again bringing his hand up to his mouth to muffle his moans. The others weren't too far away and, if he allowed himself to scream out, they would certainly hear and come running in fear of an attack.

Erik groaned, pulling El's hand away so that he could muffle his cries with his mouth instead. Erik rubbed his thumb over El's slit and it brought tears to his eyes. The blue-haired boy simply cupped his cheek and wiped the tears away with his free hand.

When his mouth moved away again, El was quick to cover his own with his hand once again, biting down into his own skin to stifle the sounds coming from him.

"I'm going to come inside. Can I come inside?" Erik groaned as his pace grew.

All El could do was nod, too afraid of screaming out instead if he dare tried to use his words. Although, the confirmation was enough and Erik came, his semen shooting into El, filling him up completely.

When Erik caught his breath, he felt the twitching in his hand, "Oh look, you're hard again."

With that, he began to crawl down El's body, pumping him with his hand until he was positioned where we wanted to be.

He looked at his own cum spilling out of the boy beneath him and ran a finger over his abused hole, collecting up some of the juices before pushing his finger inside once again.

El whimpered into his hand, back arching again when Erik placed a gentle kiss against his leaking tip before taking him in his mouth.

As his head bobbed, his nose brushed against El's unshaven pelvic bone. When he took his entire length in his mouth, he continued to thrust his fingers inside him, using his own release as more than enough lubrication as he pleasured the other.

Erik reached around with his free hand and began to massage El's balls, humming against his cock to top it all off. In seconds, he came. Of course, offering a strangled warning to the other boy but he simply remained to swallow it all up regardless.

When he pulled away, standing up to look down at El, he was in awe. The naked sweaty body below him was soaked in cum. He was breathing heavily, glassy eyes looking around with a dazed expression as he tried to come down from his high.

Erik crouched down and pulled him into his arms, kissing his forehead gently as he lifted him up off of the ground.

"Let's get you cleaned up and into bed."

El was so out of it while Erik washed his body in the lake, just holding onto his shoulders shakily to keep himself afloat. His head rested in the crook of his neck as he spread his cheeks apart and cleaned out his insides, making sure to wash away all remainders of his own semen before pulling El out of the lake.

Erik put him down and grabbed his own trousers, saying to wait there for a moment while he quickly slipped back off to camp. When he came back, he had a blanket and wrapped El tightly in it to warm him up and dry him off a little before helping him dress again.

Then, the two of them returned to camp and, no longer caring for who might find them all close and intimate, cuddled up by the now extinguished fire and fell asleep under the moonlight.

[tae-cup]

.hamartia. ‘Part 2,

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (f) x Taehyung (?)

Genre: Mafia!Au, Fluff, Angst (Mostly angst oopsies) I DO NOT CONDONE BEHAVIOR DISPLAYED IN THIS, PLEASE IT’S FICTION AND DON’T DO STUPID THINGS THANK YOU

Plot: Y/N is a skilled, well, torturer, though you don’t like to call yourself that; it makes what you do too real. When mafia boss Yoongi wants information or wants a hostage to suffer, you step in. However, one fateful day you are thrown Taehyung, another person who does your line of work. You need answers, he is determined not to give them to you. That’s when you try...a different approach, and Yoongi is not pleased.

Rating: TV-MA

WARNINGS: YO IF YOU’RE NOT COOL WITH SUBTLE BI AGENDAS THEN I’M SORRY THIS IS NOT THE PLACE FOR YOU, Blood, torture, mafia things (ya know?), drugs alcohol, sadistic tendencies, a fundamentally flawed main character (I’m sorry i’m just writing myself pretty much), assault, harassment, stalking (not bad), romance (somehow), Maybe stockholm syndrome???

Word Count: 2.2k Words

A/N: Okay I need to make up my mind if this is yoongi x reader x taehyung x jimin or just taehyung and yoongi. Please help me- also I haven’t read this over so...I’m sorry if some sentences like don’t make sense 

I’ve had Heather by Conan Gray stuck in my head all day. Anyway...I’m not sure if I like this chapter, but it’ll do haha

Other:

Masterlist

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2 | Next

self·ish/ˈselfiSH/

adjective

(of a person, action, or motive) lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one's own personal profit or pleasure.

-

-

You took a deep breath in. 

“Okay, Y/N, you’re going to try Jimin’s approach, just this once.” You muttered to yourself. You searched around your mind, begging that innocent girl from a year ago to come out. You found her hiding in the closet, door shut, and light off. Her eyes were dark, but her body still radiated a pure glow. She looked up hopefully at you. 

“I always knew you’d come back!” She squealed. 

“right...” You spoke to yourself. Then you scolded yourself, promising you’ll lock her away for good once this is over. For the last time, you handed her the reigns. 

-

-

Your hand opened the door quietly. You still had yet to apologize to Jimin, but you decided to get to that later. Of course, when you looked up at Taehyung, he was already awake. Did this man ever sleep? It was still rather early in the morning; around 4 A.M. 

“Hello!” You chirped. You sat down, trying to make conversation. “Are you hurt? Do you ache?” You asked, taking on the caring tactic in full force. You had tugged along a first aid kit to really help solidify trust. 

He didn’t answer, of course. But instead of getting annoyed, you simply smiled warmly at him. 

“It’s okay! Take you’re time. I understand this is all pretty crazy.” You continued, hoping he would see you trying to be genuine. However, trying will never be the same as actually doing it. The dark haired male looked...confused, to say the least. His head tilted to the side, observing you, picking apart your words and trying to understand where this sudden kindness was coming from. There were a million red flags, but you didn’t seem to want to harm him...yet. 

“I see there’s a pretty bad bruised.” You pointed towards his cheek. 

He didn’t respond, then going on to drink in your outfit. With that, he let his lips tug up into a smile. That outfit gave him hope, it made him start believing you weren’t there to hurt him after all. After a moment of thinking, he nodded slowly. 

“Yeah,” His voice was deep and smooth, almost melodic. It soothed you to listen to. “Your friend decided to give me a nice wake up.” 

“Ah, I’ll tell him to stop that. I apologize for yesterday. I had been informed of your arrival so suddenly. I was,” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I was nervous, a little frazzled.” You sat very innocently, unlike yesterday. He felt he could trust you as you were right now, but it was still terrifying to know that girl yesterday still existed within you. 

“I also think...I think the rope is too tight.” He mused, seeing how far he could push it. This didn’t faze you. You simply nodded, stood, and, almost hesitantly oddly enough, went to loosen his ropes. After you had sufficiently loosened the bindings, he grasped your wrist tightly. 

“Why are you doing this?” He asked. 

“I had a moment of clarity, yesterday.” You explained lamely. 

“Hmph.”

“Why do you trust me?” You cocked an eyebrow up, your face somehow shifting to allude to the monster below. It was to your surprise when he chuckled. 

“Your outfit.” He said slowly. If there was anything he learned in his short time being in this room, it was that black was for blood. Leather meant blood and gray meant bruises. “Your outfit is white.” He breathed. His words were light against your neck where you had crouched to loosen his ropes. How did he know about your outfit coordination? You assumed he was very observant.

You stared at him this time. He was almost devastatingly handsome. Dark eyes and pitch black hair. It made your heart flutter. You quickly put your beating heart into check. Monsters don’t have hearts. You stood, tearing your wrist away from his grasp. 

“Well, I’ll try to make you comfortable.” You said quickly. You wanted to leave the room as soon as possible. Something about being near him made you feel ill. 

“If you really wanted me to feel comfortable, you’d let me out.” 

“You know I can’t do that.” You whispered more to yourself than anything else. You knew he heard it when he let out a little sigh, tossing his head to the side to move his bangs. 

You left in a hurry, feeling him stare at your back.

-

-

Yoongi didn’t seem pleased. 

“Please, Y/L/N, tell me why you let Jimin talk you into this idea.” He sighed. He looked exhausted, but he always did. You found yourself wondering if he had eaten and slept well. You shooed those thoughts away, not wanting them to distract you. 

“Oh drop the formalities, Yoongi.” You sneered. Yoongi didn’t respond, but his eyes did narrow at yours. You didn’t feel intimidated. You knew that look, you’d seen it a million times. 

After a brief pause, you continued, “I felt...I felt bad for something I said to him earlier. I thought I could give it a try, but it’s harder to build trust than I thought.” You trailed off, thinking to yourself: It’s so much easier to just break it. 

He nodded slowly, listening to your explanation. The pale man sat in his leather chair. He was a laid back sort of man. One leg was crossed over the other as he leaned back lazily. A drink of whiskey was in his hand. He swirled the brown liquid around in the glass before setting it down. Now he leaned forward, seeming to ponder the idea. 

“I think it might work, actually.” He wasn’t entirely sure, but he liked watching you squirm. 

“Really?” 

“Is there something wrong with trying a new tactic? Your job is to get information, I never said how.” 

This was the sort of argument often used in the other direction; the argument that allowed you to do whatever twisted thing came to mind. 

“But, Yoongi,” You pleaded. “I’m not cut out for this. I was just not made to love.” You looked down at your twiddling thumbs, feeling yourself turn back into that little girl from a year ago. You hated her. You should have just put her back in that closet, but here she was, popping out to say hello again. “You should know that better than anyone else, Yoongi.” Your voice was soft, but it held a certain steel to it. 

He softened instantly. That voice was all too familiar; that tone. 

“Y/N.” He cleared his throat before looking you deep in the eyes. “Every human being is made to love.” He turned around, facing the windows at the end of the office. “Sometimes, you just don’t know how to.” His mind was slowly getting lost in grief. He was grieving you, us, together. “Dismissed.” He couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy at the thought of you being close to another man other than Jimin. He had to let it go though, you guys were over and you have been for a few months. Besides, you never showed any signs of liking him still so he had to let go of you a little. 

You didn’t even bother trying to argue. You could sense he had become distracted, lost in thought. You were glad for the dismissal as you could feel yourself getting lost as well. 

-

-

“Oh god, please, no.” The young girl shook like a leaf. She looked to only be a year or so younger than you. “Please, you don’t have to do this.” 

The sound of a gun cocking shut her up. Hesitation flickered through you. You thought of your own family, now dead, and your own morality. Ever since coming to the mafia, you had refused to hurt anyone. Now you were being forced to. It was your humanity, your sanity, V.S. a new found family known as the mafia. 

In contrast to her sister, the girl who was actually in danger, Hwayeong, stood absolutely still. You didn’t plan on humiliating her. You just wanted the job done and over with. She was directly involved in the murder of Yoongi’s father. It seemed insane, but she did have nerves of steel, despite her angelic face. You swallowed thickly, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry. 

“I know you’re scared.” Hwayeong had a soothing voice, like a calm lake that washes over you. “And I know you were forced into this life, but you can change.” She didn’t sound fearful, though you knew she must be. “I’d welcome you with open arms.” She didn’t sound concerned or even pitying, she just sounded genuine. The dark haired girl sounded understanding and compassionate. 

“I have to do this job.” You said quietly, gun still pointed at her, but now shaking. Hwayeong seemed to understand because she nodded her head, stepping forward. She grabbed the gun’s end and moved your arm so it pointed at her forehead. Her eyes stared into yours, pools of obsidian. 

“Then do it. I have nothing left to bargain and I’m not going to deny the killing of that cruel man.” She held her head high. She seemed a proud woman. “But for the love of god, stop shaking, I want the shot to be clean and the death soon and blessed.” 

You couldn’t help but gape at her request. She wrapped her slender fingers around yours on the handle. 

“Shoot me.” She didn’t break eye contact, and you didn’t either. “Shoot me and we’ll all call it a suicide. I know how it feels to be in your position.” That raised a million questions. Was this the right choice?

“I-” The bang of the gun shocked you. You jumped, stumbling back a few steps as you stared at the body before you. You had held the gun. She had pulled the trigger. While her family screamed and sobbed, tied up and terrified, you ran outside and heaved the contents of lunch onto the lawn out front. You brought your sleeve up and wiped away the food around your mouth. Then you went back inside. 

The house felt so small now. It was almost suffocating as you untied the family members. They stood in silence. You picked up the gun and slowly rose. You looked each member in their eyes, barely acknowledging their hollowness. 

“This was a suicide.” You nodded at each of them. They nodded slowly back. “If I hear otherwise, you’re all dead.” And that was the last straw. The last humanity left in you. Those obsidian black eyes still burned into you. 

-

-

Unlike last night, you jerked awake with this one, your heart racing. Why now? Why were you reliving these painful memories now? For the past few months it’s been so easy to just push and push the memories deep down. You had locked them in your basement. So how had they flooded back up so suddenly. They were suffocating you. 

You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You reached out for someone to hug, someone to hold, only to find no one. Instead, you curled up, squeezing your eyes shut as tight as possible. You weakly hit your head with a fist as if to release these memories. You let your mind to turn to something else. The reality of the dream slowly slipped away. Her eyes left your mind temporarily; it was something you had sworn you’d never forget. 

Fuck. You still needed to apologize to Jimin. He would probably be upset to know that you didn’t even notice that he wasn’t there all day. But the point was that you thought of him now. Only now did you realize how much you missed his company.

 He would have known what to say to Taehyung to get him to talk more. Jimin, yes, helped you get information, but he was also a silver tongue. He could talk his way into and out of most things. That’s how he was “hired” for this mafia. He actually had been kidnapped, much like Taehyung. But, he managed to talk the, much more naive at the time, interrogator to move him upstairs. Then he talked them into letting him borrow a car. By the time he could escape, he knew too much and he knew the other members too well. He didn’t want to leave them. 

You suddenly felt very sympathetic for him. Maybe it was because the old you had the reigns. So now here you were, standing outside his room, lost in thought. You didn’t even knock when he opened the door. 

“I suspected you would come.” He scoffed, trying to look indifferent. You didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence as you engulfed him in a hug. 

“I’m sorry, about everything.”

He carefully hugged you back, hands going to your neck to pull you in closer. “I know.” He whispered.

-

-

ahhhhhh that’s it for part 2, I’ll make part 3 soon! Let me know what you 

Previous | Next 

[crue-sixx]

The Game of Life

Title: The Game of Life

Author: tiddly-winx

Summary: A prequel to The FUNeral.  You're an outstanding character when you meet a charming blonde and his friends.

Warnings: swearing, death and sickness, drug use

It was Christmas and you were spending it alone at the Troubadour.  Your family didn't want you near them (save for your sister Kathy, 15 years old at the time).  You rolled the blood packet meant for Halloween in your mouth waiting for some douchebag to tell you those words you heard so often.  It didn't take too long for him to show up.  Of course he was hammered when he slurred "Heeeeeey baybeh" he stumbled over to you "Wha's a pretty thang like you doin' all alone at Christmas?"

You brushed him off with "Lookin' to get laid" you rolled eyes, you had no intention of sleeping with someone too drunk to know what he was doing.

"I can do that, sweetheart" he put his arm around you "but you'd look much prettier if you smiled!"

That was the moment you'd been waiting for, so you bit down on the blood packet and pushed the fake blood out of your mouth, your teeth stained red, dripping onto the best ugly Christmas sweater you had in your arsenal.  He recoiled and left you alone.  You were relieved and wiped your face with  your sleeve. and went along with your business.

At least you tried to go on with your business, but a voice behind you said "Hot damn girl! That was awesome!" you were annoyed at this but you turned to see four grown men dressed in glam rock costumes and more make-up than the prostitutes that worked the corners.

You glanced over and said "Thanks,  It's a little late for Halloween don't you think?"

"We're the band!" the blonde one laughed, taking the comment in stride. "We're Motley Crue!"

"Huh" you said, unimpressed.  You hadn't been paying attention to the music.  You had been busy tinkering with a music box you had been working on-your job was an apprenticeship at a clock maker's shop.  Music boxes were your hobby, and people were willing to pay you for them.  This one was almost finished-all you had to do was fix the music source and paint it to the buyer's specifications and it would be done.

"You don't seem too enthusiastic" said one with black hair, all of it covering his face.  All you could see was his nose, mouth and chin.  

"Sorry" you were sincere in your apology "I just have a deadline to get this thing done by" you backed off and showed them.

"So why the fuck did you come out if you had to get it done?" the tall one said, confused.

"I didn't want to stay cooped up in my apartment at Christmas" you said, which was true.

"Tell ya what" the blonde one said "Take it back to your place then come on over to our place and party with us!"  he put an arm around you "We'll give ya a Christmas you'll never forget" he winked.

"Sorry, not interested in that" you winked back.  You knew what he meant "but I'll come over and get bombed with  you!"

"That sounds cool!" the tall one said "I'm Tommy, this is Nikki" he patted the bassist's head, to which he growled "blondie over here's Vince and the old dude" he jutted his thumb to a man who couldn't be more than a few years older than they were "the man from Mars, Mick Motherfuckin' Mars!" the man in question gave a shy wave while nursing a bottle of vodka.

"I'm Y/N" you shook hand with them.  You're place wasn't that far from their apartment so you climbed through the window like you'd seen other people do.  Vince greeted you and helped you inside.

The whole apartment was popping with activity, people drinking, snorting, shooting up and fucking all around you.  You didn't mind and joined in even, slapping some people's naked asses.  "So why were you alone on Christmas?" Tommy asked "Don't you have a family?"

"Well yeah but they don't like me" you said, them telling you that you were the biggest mistake they'd ever made "guess they thought having me and getting married would save their relationship..."

Tommy looked away and said "Sorry..."

"Nah, I do have a little sister that likes me" you smiled, Kathy being the only one of your siblings that you actually liked.  "When she turns 18 she's leaving my parents and coming to live with me".

"So you were an oopsie baby?" Nikki asked, Tommy shooting him a glare.

"Yep. Pretty much" you laughed, not taking offense at all.

Nikki chuckled "Yeah, me too" he extended his hand for a fist bump and you obliged him.  He then offered you a line of coke, to which you happily snorted it up with one giant inhalation.

The next day, you woke up on their couch in the clothes you had on the night before.  You stretched out and saw that a few other bodies where strewn around the floor and beds.  Mick was the only one awake and trying to make breakfast with the filthiest equipment ever.  You stopped him and said "Let's go to Denny's.  My treat" you winked at him.

While you were eating, you asked "Why're you hanging around with those three wild animals?  You seem way calmer than they are?"

"They're my band" he smiled warmly.  "Though they may act like stupid rug monkeys most of the time, they're kinda like my family" you had to laugh at that, it was just too cute.

You decided to invite them over for dinner a few weeks after meeting them, on the condition they stay out of  your room where you kept the music boxes that you were working on.  They agreed and you had ordered Chinese, you couldn't cook to save your life and you wouldn't offend them by forcing them to eat your disgusting food.  You heard a knock at your door and thinking it was the delivery guy you opened it, only to see one of your buyers demanding an unfinished product.

"It's not finished yet" you told him "I will give you a call when it is and you can come get it then" you tried to shut the door but he pushed his way in your apartment "Get out asshole!"

"I ordered from you three days ago!  It should be done by now!"

"I told you it would be at least a month and you agreed to my terms!" you shouted at him.

"For three hundred bucks, I think you need to work harder!  You ain't cheap!  My daughter's birthday is tomorrow!"

"You should have thought about that and commissioned me a month ago then if you wanted it done by tomorrow!"

"I want you to do it for free, since you're so slow!"

You had heard this argument before from people who want your music boxes for free.  "The materials and parts needed alone cost about 50 bucks, plus the time it takes me to build these things covers the whole price!  What I do with one box in a month took me years to learn how to do.  That's why I only charge $150 up front and $150 upon completion. I will NOT spend all my time working on YOUR box alone.  I do have other customers, a job and a life outside of this. If you're unsatisfied I will give you the materials and you can make the damn box your own fuckin' self!" You did have a day job at the clock shop that paid your rent but this was something you enjoyed doing.

"I can just go to the toy store and buy one better!" he huffed "Since you don't want my business, I'll spread all shit about you and your boxes and tell people not to buy from you!"

"Whatever asshole!" you showed him out and into the arms of your dinner guests.

"This guy botherin' you Y/N?" Vince asked, taking a strong grip on the guys shoulder.

"Nah" you waved them off "Just another douche bag who wants my product for free" you had told them about people who refused to pay you for your boxes and how it happens more often that you'd like it to.  "Come on in, the food's on it's way!"

You had a great dinner and let them sleep over, Vince and Nikki sleeping in your bed with you, all of you too hammered to be fucking at all.  Tommy had taken up your couch while Mick was snoozing away in the chair.

A few years passed and the steady stream of people wanting your music boxes helped with the expenses.  The band had made it big, and they were some of your best customers.  They paid you much more than you asked for, you finding ways to slip their extra money back in their wallets.  Gifts for their wives, girlfriends or children you took extra care with these ones.

You eventually bought a house right by Vince's place, you secretly having a small crush on him.  The view was to die for, and you just loved the location.  You were fond of his wife Sharice and his little girl Skylar, you babysitting when they needed a date night.  Tonight you were working in the workshop when your doorbell rang.  "Who could it be at this hour?"

You were expecting one of your friends but were totally shocked to see four year old Skylar on your doorstep, the poor thing crying her eyes out.  "Skylar!  What's wrong sweetheart?" you took her in and gave her a cup of hot chocolate.

"Mommy and Daddy are fighting" she sniffled.  "It woke me up and scared me...so I went to a quiet place..."

You were livid at her parents, but you knew better than to take it out on the child.  You let her sleep in your bed and after you knew she was asleep you picked up the phone and called Vince's house.  Sharice answered the phone with "FOR FUCK'S SAKE WHAT?!" you pulled the phone away from your face until she was done screaming.

"Where's Skylar?" you asked, the other end of the line going silent.

"She's sleeping" Sharice snapped.

"I think you need to check" you advised "and put the phone in between you two.  I need you both to hear this" you waited until you heard Vince comment that she wasn't in her room. "You both here?"

"Yeah were here" Sharice was panicking "Do you know where Skylar is?!"

"She's over here" you said flatly "she showed up at my house about an hour ago in her night clothes crying.  She said your fighting woke her up and scared her" Vince and Sharice looked at each other, them not even seeing her leave the house.

"Can she stay over there for a few days while we try to sort things out?" Vince asked you, him on the verge of tears.

"Sure" you said, knowing all of Vince's vices and not daring to judge him on them.  You had your own problems, and couldn't nag at him.  It was like the pot calling the kettle black.

"I'll stop by later with some clothes and her toothbrush" Sharice added.  You knew they were headed for a divorce, but the kid being dragged into it was unfair.

You were playing tea party with her when all of a sudden, Skylar burst into tears.  "Hey now, honey" you hugged her to you "what's wrong?"

"Do Mommy and Daddy hate me?" she asked in her tears.

"What?!  Honey, no!" you brushed her tears away "What on earth gave you that idea?"

"Me staying with you" she blew her nose on your shirt. "Why don't they see me?"

You were contemplating on how to explain what was going on with Vince and Sharice to their four year old.  It wasn't your business to tell so you said "Mommy and Daddy are going through a rough patch and they're trying to work it out so you all can be happy..."  she wouldn't be able to understand that Vince had a problem with keeping his dick in his pants or drugs and alcohol out of his body.

"You sure?" she sniffled.

"I'm positive" you said and booped her nose, making her giggle.  A few days later, Vince came to your door with a sorrowful look in his eyes.

Skylar jumped on him, and gave him a big hug "Did you and Mommy work things out?"

He was trying to fake smile for the sake of his child "Not yet, baby.  We're trying..." he looked at you and tears were rolling down his face.  He quickly wiped them away when the little girl looked at him.  "Come on, Mommy's in the car" he gathered her things and before he went out the door he said quietly "I'll be over later...I need a place to stay a few days..."

"Sure Vinny" you said quietly.  You waited for him, and he came back a few hours later.  He was on his way to being wasted but you cut him off, locking your liquor cabinet.

"We're gettin' a divorce" he cried on your counter "I fucked up royally..."

"Hey" you rubbed his back "she's not trying to keep you from seeing Sky, right?"

"No, she's not" he answered,  "I'll have her every other weekend and she'll stay with Sharice the rest of the time.." he was shaking, Motley Crue about to go on tour and he wouldn't be able to see his daughter for a while.

You couldn't say anything, now was not the time for words.  You needed just to be there for him.  

A few months of uneventful bliss later was when you started to notice a change in yourself.  You were having headaches more often, and they were increasing in severity and duration.  Your sister Kathy had been living with you and she too noticed.  It was the day you had a seizure while working on a music box, that prompted Kathy to drag you to the doctor.

You hated doctors, but your life would change forever.  You had been given a diagnosis of brain cancer, and had the options of how you wanted to do your treatments.  You opted to go in and have them done through your arm.  You and Kathy kept everything under wraps as long as you could but the jig was up when Nikki rolled up your sleeve and saw your scars from the needles.  He glared at you, having been sober for a while "You been shooting up?!"

You pulled your arm away and said "It's not what you think, Nikki..."

"Then what is it?" he asked snarkily.

You and Kathy looked at each other and sighed "I have brain cancer.  These are from my chemo treatments..." his face fell and looked like he was about to cry.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked after he composed himself.

"Y'all have your own problems" you said, taking a swig of beer.  "You don't need me to add my baggage to the mix." 

"Does anyone else know?" he asked quietly.

"No" you answered "And don't you say anything to anyone."  He promised that he'd keep his mouth shut.

Later that night, you saw an ambulance drive past your house and to Sharice's.  You looked on in horror as you saw the little one being loaded into the vehicle.  You thought about calling Vince, but you knew Sharice would call him as soon as possible.

He called you the next day, through drunken sobs he said "She's got stomach cancer...my baby's got stomach cancer" your own heart sank at the news.  You went to go pick him up from the bar and take him back to your house.

You visited Skylar in the hospital as much as you could, your own sickness taking a backseat to comfort the family.  You eventually had to come clean and admit your own cancer to Vince, who just hugged to you him close.  The day that little girl died, you were getting a treatment and you went to the children's ward to visit.  You knew from the way the family was positioned around the bed and the crying, that she was gone.  You stayed out in the hallway and cried silently to yourself.

When they all filed out, they didn't even have to ask before you said "Y'all can stay with me" you knew it would be a tough road the next few months for them but you'd be there.  Your boxes took a back seat, you informing your buyers and refunding their money.  You needed to keep working on them to keep your mind busy.  The day that your hands wouldn't stop shaking you knew this cancer would kill you.

You were handling your tools when out of nowhere your hands began to shake.  Vince was in the other room and heard you throw your tools to the floor and curse. He just held your hands until they stopped shaking. You would live in your house for a few months, but you were deteriorating quickly.  The only person you allowed to see you was Kathy.

You were new bed bound, not able to do anything for yourself.  Kathy was right there, doing everything for you.  You felt you weren't long for this world, you asked her to call your lawyer.  You'd had to use him multiple times when people tried to sue you for not giving them the boxes when they refused to pay.  You won all those cases and kept him on.  "Hello Miss Y/N" he said as he looked at your skeleton frame.

"Hey Mr. Gibbs" you tried to smile, but even that hurt. "Have a seat."

"You called me here to draft your last will and testament?" he asked.

"Yeah" you sighed "What I want at my funeral..."

"Okay" he said and took out a note pad and pen "What would you like to have done?"

"Have them dress me up in a clown costume, with full make up and a big red nose that honks like a goose" he looked up at you in confusion. 

"E-excuse me?"

"You heard me" you mocked "Clown costume and make-up" you had to take a break to catch your breath.

"Right" he let you take as much time as you want "your casket?"

"Pumpkin Orange" you coughed "and Halloween decorations..."

He knew at this point that it was pointless to argue with you and wrote down what you wanted.  "No black..." you wheezed.

"What?" he looked up.

"Nobody wears black" you said "anyone wearing black at my funeral will be sent home to change, or wear the ugliest clothes Kathy can find..."

"And for the luncheon afterward?"

"Roast squid and duck.  Both with their eyes still on...plus some normal food.  I doubt that anyone would touch something that had it's eyes looking at them...."

"Who do you want to give the eulogy?"

"Kathy" you said, needing a break again "Tell people to bring a drink to open before she gives the eulogy..."

"Who do you want me to call first at the time of your death?"

"Vince Neil" you said with no question.  "Then Nikki Sixx, Mick Mars and Tommy Lee..."

"That concludes your funeral arrangements...how about your assets?"

"They all go to Kathy" you said "She's taken care of me like a baby, now it's my turn to take care of her..."

"I see, and your remains?"

"Cremation" you took a deep, ragged breath "turn my ashes into rings for my four best friends..."

With the business concluded, he bid you adieu and finalized the paperwork.  You turned your head to the side and you saw a face most welcome "Hey Sky"

"Hi Miss Y/N!" she was excited to see you after so long.  She was just as you remembered her when she was healthy.

"You here to take me to Heaven?" you said, the pain easing up.

"Yep!" she was kicking her legs in the seat, them not being able to touch the floor "So you wouldn't be scared when you went!"

"I see" you smiled at her "Thank you, you'll be wonderful guide" you closed your eyes and the last bit of life escaped your body.  Your spirit sat up, Skylar had extended her hand and you took it asking "What's Heaven like?"

"A beautiful dream" the little girl answered "You'll love it!" you and Skylar walked hand in had towards the light.

[thegizka]

Soft and Bright (fic)

When Sai returns from his mission, Ino is relieved, especially since taking care of the baby by herself has been a lot of work.

Inspired by Ino Week 2019 Day 5:  Smile.

Read it on Ao3.

Ino awoke to the soft trill of birdsong and golden afternoon sunlight drifting through the open window of their bedroom.  She breathed deeply and stretched languidly.  She must have been asleep for hours.  It had been a long time since she had slept so deeply.

After a moment of basking in the peace, she kicked off the blanket and sat up, stretching again before standing.  The bedspread had rumpled beneath her while she napped.  She took the time to smooth it and fold the blanket she had used, tucking it into a stack in their closet.  She ducked into their ensuite bathroom to quickly run a brush through her long blonde hair and roll on some deodorant.  Finally feeling refreshed enough to face the current chaos of their lives, she left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Their house was unusually quiet, and she felt the need to tiptoe through it.  Peace seemed hard to come by with the new baby.  Inojin had turned their world upside down.  It was beautiful, and Ino loved him more than she thought humanly possible, but taking care of a tiny human was a full-time responsibility.  They were three months into parenthood, and she couldn’t even begin to think about returning to work at the hospital or the intel division.  She was much too drained.

But she also didn’t want to be away from her baby.  Every moment was a wonder.  He was growing and learning, and she rediscovered so many things through him.  She dreaded Ibiki’s impending ultimatum--return to work or lose her place in the intel division.  Part of her was restless to be back to her shinobi duties, but she was determined to hoard as much of her son’s time and attention as she could, however tiring it might be.

This desire was reaffirmed when she slid quietly into the living room.  Sai had returned only hours before from a three-day anbu mission, his first since the baby was born.  It had been challenging for both of them.  Sai’s body hadn’t transformed to carry and nurture a tiny human life for nine months, but he hadn’t been training as much when the demands of fatherhood took up so much time.  Ino had been nervous about being alone with the baby for three days.  Her mother and Kurenai had come around to help, of course, and her friends were eager to babysit if needed, but there was a level of support and reassurance only Sai could give her.  They were figuring out this parenting thing together, and they knew Inojin best.  The temporary absence of her partner had been challenging in multiple ways.

Ino wondered if Inojin had been able to tell his father was gone.  She had felt his absence in the ache of her heart and the worry at the back of her mind.  Had he and the baby bonded deeply enough for him to feel that ache, too?  She knew her husband had been worried about connecting with their son.  He had gotten the hang of genuine social interaction, but it was so much harder when the one he was trying to connect to hadn’t really learned how to express himself either.  From watching them together, Ino knew her husband had nothing to worry about.  Inojin was just as fascinated by his father as he was by her.  His increased restlessness the past three days made her believe he had missed Sai, too.

But now both were the picture of absolute peace.  She felt a little guilty for depositing Inojin in Sai’s arms nearly as soon as he had walked into the house.  The relief of having him home and uninjured had allowed her to fully feel the fatigue of the past three days.  Desperate for a nap and trusting her husband to watch over their baby (she loved her friends and family, but only her mother and Kurenai put her at ease when they offered to watch him), she couldn’t even remember if she had kissed him hello before disappearing into their bedroom.

The giant scroll propped next to the door and Sai’s pack dropped at the end of the couch was further proof that she had jumped on him before he got very far into the house, but both he and the baby were now out cold.  Sai had propped his head up with the couch’s armrest, a book in his hand resting on his thighs, thumb still carefully keeping the page where he had left off.  His other hand was cradling Inojin who was curled high on his father’s chest, his pale blonde hair tickling Sai’s chin.  Both were sound asleep, bodies relaxed.  The baby’s hands were curled into little fists, gripping his father’s shirt.

They made a beautiful picture, both of her boys relaxing together, and she wished she had the ability to paint like her husband so she could capture this moment.  She thought briefly of returning to their room to fetch the camera, but she didn’t want the click of the shutter to startle either of them awake.  Sai obviously needed the rest.  Besides, she didn’t think a picture would do justice to the smile hovering on his lips.

This was a rare smile, softer and subtler than the one he usually used.  She had always loved his smile.  It had charmed her before she realized it was his default expression, a long-practiced contraction of the muscles in his face meant to put others at ease.  She still loved that smile because regardless of its origin and purpose, it was a part of him, and she loved him.  But she loved his other smiles more.

There were surprised smiles, ones that cracked the mask of his face when his instinct and emotion coalesced into a joy that could not be contained.  Often these were accompanied by a laugh, which was equal parts surprising and endearing.  This was an honest Sai unafraid of himself or his feelings, and she always loved him stronger in those moments.

But her favorite smiles were the secret ones.  These she sensed more often than she saw.  They were subtle, the smallest curve of the tips of his lips, but they took over his entire face.  The blank slate slid aside to reveal a warmth and vulnerability that never failed to take her breath away.  This was a Sai flooded by love and wonder.  She could feel it when they were in bed together and he pressed his lips to her forehead.  She had seen it when he had asked her to marry him.  And she caught sight of it more and more often when he was looking at their son.

She knew what it was like to gaze into their baby’s blue eyes.  The world fell away and it became him and her, nothing more, simply two souls commingling in the infinitude of existence.  There was a peace in that curious space before understanding and remembrance, a space to simply be and share being with another, void of questions and worries.  She could glimpse that peace in Sai’s secret smile.

She tiptoed silently to the couch and eased the book from her husband’s grasp.  It was a manual on flower care, one of the many they had lying around the house.  Sai liked to read to Inojin.  He had heard somewhere that speaking and reading to a baby helped its cognitive development.  She’d told him that likely didn’t mean medical textbooks and mission briefings, but he had replied that it was more about the cadence of language than the content.  Besides, he still found small talk challenging, and trying to chat with someone who simply stared or gurgled in response was formidable.  She supposed there were worse things he could read to their son.

She bookmarked the page and set it on the coffee table.  Then she gathered Sai’s pack and his vest which he had simply dropped by the door.  She unclipped his tanto and leaned it next to his scroll.  Then she thoroughly checked his pockets for ninja supplies and ink bottles.  She had been careless once and threw in a load of laundry without checking the pockets.  It had been a disaster.  A vial of ink had shattered in the wash, leaving gray stains and glass shards all over the clothes and their washing machine.  Both of them had gotten better at checking their pockets after that.

She gathered the household laundry and sorted it into appropriately similar piles.  Then she dumped a load into the machine and set to work on some of the other chores that were easier to accomplish while the baby was otherwise occupied.  She changed their bedding, throwing the dirty sheets into another pile on the laundry room floor.  She watered the plants scattered throughout the house.  She took stock of their cupboards and fridge and made a grocery list.  She transferred the laundry to the dryer and put in another load.

She popped into the living room periodically to check on her boys and enjoy the picture of them resting together on the couch.  On her way to the bathroom to scrub the shower, she noticed Inojin starting to squirm.  He was just beginning to wake up, face scrunching while his eyelids worked to remember how to open.  His wiggling hadn’t yet woken Sai.  He really must have been tired after his mission.  She carefully lifted the baby off his chest so his nap could continue undisturbed.

“Hi there baby boy,” she cooed softly as she walked Inojin to the nursery.  His crib was still in their bedroom, but they had discussed moving it to the nursery as he was beginning to sleep more soundly at night.  Ino wasn’t sure she was ready for that.  There was something both convenient and comforting in being able to simply glance at him across the room in the middle of the night to check that he was okay.

“It’s nice having Daddy home again, isn’t it?  Yes it is.  Did you have a good nap with Daddy?”

Inojin was starting to make little grunts and noises that typically indicated he was uncomfortable.  She lifted him higher and gave his bottom a careful sniff.

“Oopsies!  Smells like someone need a new diaper.”

Ino continued with the baby talk while she wiped him down and wrapped him in a fresh diaper.  She tickled his tummy to make him smile and gurgle happily.  She loved Inojin’s smile, too.  It lifted his chubby cheeks and spread wide across his face.  He was too innocent to contain his raw, uninhibited joy.  She hoped he would always be unafraid of his happiness and continue to smile brightly.

When Sai wandered into the nursery half an hour later, cheek creased from the couch cushions and hair sticking up on the side of his head, Ino was rocking and nursing their baby.  She was smiling at him as he sucked, blue eyes meeting their mirror.  Her joy came across somewhere between Sai’s and Inojin’s, not guarded but tempered by the complexity of emotions gained with experience.  It was soft and aching and beautiful.

“Hey you,” she greeted softly when she spotted her husband in the doorway.

“Hello beautiful,” he replied, walking over to kiss her on the forehead and lean over her shoulder to look at their son.  She smoothed her husbands’ hair while he smoothed Inojin’s, poking their baby playfully on the cheek.  The edges of Inojin’s lips curled happily.

“How was the mission?”

“Fine.”  He shrugged and walked over to the dresser to find a burping cloth.  She wanted to ask why he had been so tired if it was simply fine, but it had been an anbu mission.  She was unlikely to get any more information and would have to be satisfied that he had returned safely and unharmed.  That was all that really mattered anyway.

When Inojin was finished nursing, Sai took him without a word, rubbing and patting his back while she adjusted her clothes.  It was so natural, and it reminded her again of what a relief it was to have him home.  They were a three-man squad--her, Sai, and Inojin--tighter than any Ino-Shika-Cho formation.  They functioned best together.

That night after Inojin had fallen asleep in his crib and she and Sai were wrapped together in bed, she apologized.

“I’m sorry I dumped the baby on you right when you got home.  You must’ve been really tired after your mission.”

“It’s fine,” he hummed, rubbing her arm sleepily.  “You were tired, too.”

“But I wasn’t on a mission.”

“You were taking care of our son.  That’s more important than any mission.”

She counted his ribs with her fingertips, something she liked to do since discovering he wasn’t ticklish.

“I’ll get up with him tonight so you can sleep.”

He just hummed in response, pressing a kiss to her lips and pulling her closer.

Somehow she wasn’t surprised when Inojin’s unhappy cries woke her that night and Sai was already at the crib lifting their disgruntled son into his arms.  He shushed Inojin quietly and began humming a song he had overheard Temari sing to Shikadai.  She was going to tell him to hand her the baby so he could go back to sleep, but he was already heading out of the bedroom to the nursery.  Before he closed the door behind him, she glimpsed his soft, secret smile pressed into their son’s hair.

[everythingislegalinsantafe]

Planned & Unplanned (H.Mull x Reader)

a/n: i decided to steer away from a happy ending on this one #oopsies

request: I would KILL for an imagine with Hercules x fem!disguised!soldier. I know that there were a few women who passed off as men during the war so they could fight, thought it might be an interesting idea!

word count: 1,886 words

Ever since you were younger, you wanted to do something more than just marry a rich man and live the rest of your life as a house wife.

Your parents knew this but didn't know it would lead you into sneaking into the war effort disguised as a man.

"God this was such a bad idea." You say as you tried to make your binded chest less uncomfortable.

You've been fighting the war for the past 8 months and you couldn't feel more alive. You were a spy with Hercules Mulligan to steal plans from the British and return them back to your commanding officers.

After spying with Hercules for the past couple months, you couldn't help but develop feelings for the man. He always cared for you and made sure you were comfortable which sometimes causes problems with you as you had to hide your blush in these occasions. Although he was your closest friend, you couldn't allow anyone to know your true identity.

Every mission you went on Hercules was a successful one since the two of you were so close and worked together well. However, a mission went wrong when General Washington commanded you two to bring an extra solider along.

"I don't know, Herc. I think Benedict will just mess up the mission." You say to your partner in crime as you packed up your supplies.

Hercules sighed, "He's fine, (L/N). We're the best spies of the revolutionaries and Washington letting him come with us shows he'll be fine."

"I know, but I get a bad feeling about him." You shook your head.

Hercules sighed again but just replied to hurry up and the three of you were leaving at dawn.

The mission was simple enough. Go into British territory, find out there plans for the next battle, and get out.

This was an easy mission and you and Hercules have been through harder missions, so it didn't worry you too much about bringing Benedict.

~

After many hours walking, you finally reached the outskirts of the British camp, so the three of you changed into red coats in switch of your normal blue ones. Although the plan was meant for you to be kept out of sight, the disguises were just for precaution if something went wrong.

The three of you snuck into the camp, inching closer and closer to the commanding officer's tent which sat right in the middle. You were silent, afraid if you made a sound it would wake up the entire English army.

Successfully, without any intrusion, you made it to the tent.

"Alright (L/N)," Hercules whispered. "You and Benedict go in and grab the plans. I'll stay here and keep watch."

You nodded and the two of you quietly snuck in the tent. You checked your surroundings to see the snoring British commander and on his side were the plans you needed. You stealthily walked around the sleeping commander and was about to grab the plans from him when the man's head suddenly snapped up.

You almost screamed but Benedict grabbed hold of your waist tightly and wrapped a hand around your mouth. You started thrashing your body to get out of his grasp but you efforts were futile.

"Well well well, guess we finally caught one of the infamous spies from the patriots," The man spoke to you as he stalked around the room. "And it's all thanks to Benedict for leading you right to us."

Your eyes widened, you knew that Benedict was not who he said he was. You tried to break from his hold but it was no use. He led you outside of the tent and into the forest nearby to tie you tightly to a tree. You tried to break out of the roped but they didn't budge.

The British officer was starting at you with such lifeless, cold eyes that you were shaking in Benedict's hold. The man walked toward you and grabbed your face to take a look at you. He stared for a long time before finally walked away with a "tsk", almost dissatisfied at your appearance.

"Y'know," He said as he stalked around you before he finally grabbed something out of his coat. "There's a rumor about you, Mr. (L/N)."

You saw that he took out a gun and examined it as if it was nothing more than a pen. You tried to back away, but you were completely immobile.

"Or should I say, Miss (L/N)." The man said with a smirk on his face.

Your heart dropped at this. How did he know? You made sure to be careful of your identity and you told no one about it, even your closest friends you fought side by side with.

It didn't matter how he found out as Benedict ripped your cap off letting your hair fall which furthered proved your femininity.

"Hm," The man said after he gave you a good look. "It's such a shame we have to kill you. You're such a pretty little face" And he aimed the gun at you.

You panicked and tried to think of ways to stall him. Maybe Hercules heard what happened and will try to save you. It was far fetched, but you had to do something.

"Yo-you don't want to know if I have any information?" You asked.

Benedict rolled his eyes, "We know you'd rather die than give away information. So we're just going to cut to the chase and kill you now. We can't let anymore secrets fall into American hands."

"Enough talking," the officer spoke harshly as he loaded and pointed the gun to you. "Let's just get this over with."

You took a shaky breath and stood tall, determined to die with dignity. You heart started pounding and you felt your palms sweat. You were going to close your eyes but decided against it as you wanted the man to see your eyes before he shot you.

He was about to the pull the trigger when Hercules bursted through the trees with a gun in his hand.

"Shoot her and I shoot you." He growled and cocked the gun.

The officer looked unamused as he was held to gunpoint. He lowered his gun and cocked an eyebrow, "Go ahead then, shoot. You don't have the plans for the next battle, so do it."

Hercules hesitated, but as soon as he was off guard the man lifted the gun to shoot and you closed your eyes.

You heard gunshots pierce through the air and you flinched. Benedict and the British officer fell to the ground lifelessly. You sighed as you realized you were safe. Your heart was still pounding and you could still feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins.

"(L/N)?" Herc asked terrified as he untied your binds. "Are you alright? Or should I call you something else? What's your first name?"

You smiled at Herc's questions, "My real name is (Y/N) and yes, I'm f-"

You doubled over in pain and fell into Hercules's arms. You groaned and reached down to your stomach and felt a warm liquid oozing from it. You were shot, you were bleeding out, you were dying.

"Oh shit, (Y/N). C'mon let's get you back to camp and y-you'll be fine."

He was trying to comfort you from not panicking but it sounded more like he was doing it to himself. He laid you on the ground and ripped off your red coat as he searched for your wound. He got to the last layer of your clothing and he looked up to you for permission. You rolled your eyes and nodded. This wasn't a time for modesty since you were bleeding out.

Hercules ripped off a piece of his shirt to clean your wound, but the white cotton immediately turned into a crimson. He tried to not stare at your binded chest while he worked on disinfecting your wound but it was unsuccessful.

"Wow Herc, I'm dying here and you can't help but stare at my chest. What a gentleman." You said sarcastically.

You both laughed, but you started coughing up blood which led Hercules to panic more. He started lifting you up and muttering that you needed to get back to camp and how the nurses will fix you up. You knew, however, that from the amount of blood leaving your side indicates that there is nothing either of you can do about it. You vision started to go a bit fuzzy and your body started to shake.

"Herc," You muttered to him. "Herc, I'm not gonna make it."

He shook his head and you saw their were tears in his eyes, "You have to, (Y/N). You just have to."

You smiled weakly at him, "Herc can you lay me down?"

He gently put you on the ground like earlier and took off his coat for a makeshift pillow for you.

"I know I don't have much time," You say softly. "But I have some things to tell you."

Hercules sat next you and grabbed your hand, rubbing his thumb over yours to comfort you.

"I-I'm sorry for not telling you that I'm a girl, but I had to protect myself. I wanted to tell you so so badly." You coughed.

Hercules shushed you, "I understand, (Y/N). I'm not mad..."

You smiled weakly at him, "There's one more thing I need to tell you before I die."

"You're not going to die!" He cried. "You're gonna be fine, sweetheart, I swear."

You couldn't tell if your breathing picked up because of the pain in your side or the fact he called you 'sweetheart'. With this you decided to just tell him the truth.

"Hercules, I love you."

With Herc's gasp you closed your eyes since you didn't want to see his reaction. You know he doesn't like you and only thinks of you like a brother or in this case a sister. Your battered self couldn't handle another blow.

It was silent for a long time before you felt him cup your cheeks and press his lips to yours. This time you were the one that gasped and weakly wrapped your arms around his neck as best you could to deepen the kiss. You pulled back after a while since you felt yourself drifting off.

"Where'd they go? I can't see a trail anymore." Hercules head snapped up as he heard British soldiers make their way through the forest in search of the two of you.

"Herc, you have to leave me behind."

"No! I love you too and I will not leave you alone here to die!" He tried to quietly whispered.

As Hercules was looking around in search of an escape, you reached into your pocket to grab the plans you snatched from the commander's office and put it into Hercules's hand. You squeezed and he looked down at you with tears in his eyes when he realized he had no choice but to go on without you.

"Go, Herc. I'll be fine. Give the plans to Washington. Win the war." You weakly demanded.

He kissed you once last time and stood up when he heard the soldiers coming closer. He slowly backed away, staring at you as he tried to memorize your face before he finally took a deep breath and turned around. You smiled and your last sight before you finally closed your eyes was Hercules running safely off into the forest.