#please don't ask about the logistics behind it

[getinthecar-elizabeth]

Summary: Comforting Kylian after losing the Euro semi-finals to Spain.

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x wife!reader

Warnings: None

You wanted so badly to watch the semi-finals against Spain in person but you were prepping for the move to Madrid so you flew back to Paris. You didn't want Kylian to stress about the move so you were handling a lot of the logistics alongside his mother.

You watched the match at home. Things were going well in the first half with an early goal for France but the table quickly turned when Spain scored two goals. It continued like that until the end and France lost to Spain.

You felt terrible and you knew Kylian did too. You video-called him when you knew he'd be in his room. He was in bed when he answered your call.

"Mon amour," he said. He put one hand behind his head.

"Mon bébé," you said. You didn't ask how he was doing. The look on his face told you all you needed to know.

You stared at each other in silence for a long time.

"Come home Kylian," you said.

"Chérie...," he swiped his palm over his face.

"No, Kylian, please come home. You need to rest. You've been through enough, and I'm not just talking about this tournament. Please my love, just come home." You sat up on the bed.

Kylian sighed deeply, "Okay."

"Good. I'll be waiting for you, okay?"

"Oui, chérie."

"I love you," you smiled.

"Je t'aime aussi," he returned a sad smile.

"Get some sleep bébé," you told him.

You said your goodbyes and hung up.

*** Back home***

You waited for Kylian at the airport. When he showed up he had the same sad disappointed look. You opened your arms wide and he walked into your embrace. His arms wrapped around your lower back and he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your sweet smell. He missed you.

Your right hand brushed up and down the back of his head and you felt him melt into your arms. "It's alright my love, let it all go."

He pulled back and you held his face and brought him in for a kiss.

"Let's go home." You grabbed his hand and led him to the car.

You both sat at the back as the driver took you home.

When you got home you led him to the couch. You sat him down and straddled him. He placed his hands on your waist and looked into your eyes. You held his face and rubbed your thumbs on his cheeks.

"I know losing hurts," you started, "it's like heartbreak or losing a loved one, no matter how many times it happens, it still hurts every time. But luckily, it doesn't happen too often right?"

"But I let everybody down," he sighed.

"You were not playing alone on the pitch, you can't take all the blame. Yeah sure, when things are bad everybody expects you to come through, but you're not Superman. And you were injured for goodness sake. If it was up to me, I would have had you on bedrest for the rest of the tournament. But you said: "It's my nose that's broken not my legs. I can still kick a ball,'" You imitated him.

He smiled. It was small but it was there.

"I was not my best, non?"

"No. The whole team was not playing their best. I don't know what was wrong but I know you will figure it out. For now, just rest."  You hugged him to your chest.

With the whole PSG saga and him leaving for Madrid, and breaking his nose in the Euro tournament, your husband had been through a lot and you just wanted him to detach. There was too much pressure on him both physically and mentally. You wanted him to relax and recuperate before you left for Spain, and you were going to make sure of it.

To the world, he was a goal-scoring machine, but to you he was human and you could see the weight he carried, the toll it took on him. Everyone blamed him when things went wrong. But he had been doing this for a while and you knew he would bounce back. You were going to be the support and pick me up he needed in this trying time.

"Kante was amazing though," you said.

Kylian chuckled, "Ah, oui, il était super (yes, he was great)."

[myeuphoricmindset]

As the world burns | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary | You’ve been surviving in The Upside Down with Eddie for months, but tonight you and Eddie know you’re dying. So, would you sleep with the last person alive if it was Eddie Munson?

“Do you remember when you were younger and someone would ask if you’d sleep with a certain person if they were the last person on earth?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Well, here we are.”

Warnings/Tags | 18+ Unprotected sex, Hair pulling, Soft Dom Eddie (if that’s a thing?), Talks about death and world ending, Comfort Eddie, This one-shot is not about fighting or the Upside Down, it's focused on Eddie and the reader during their final night. Please let me know if I missed a warning.

Word count | 3.8k

Just keep moving. One foot in front of the other. Control your breathing. Don't let them hear you. Don’t stop.

Don’t stop.

Don’t stop.

It’s not unusual for you to disassociate during fearful situations. You’ve been doing this for so long that your body knows the motions and your mind wanders to keep you from panicking.

You focus on the back of Eddie’s jacket as you run behind him. DIO is the three-letter word that you say over and over in your head. You’ve asked Eddie about the band during the late nights of hiding beneath the trees. He is always happy to tell you about their music. Metal bands were never your thing and the you before The Upside Down wouldn’t have cared about Dio, but you’re not the person you were before. When living in darkness for so long you’re desperate to hear about anything that brings joy, especially when it’s bringing Eddie joy.

The crunch of twigs under your feet breaks your focus on your thoughts and you snap back to reality. Your leg gets caught in something and before you have a chance to look at what it is —you fall. A sharp pain ripples through your foot and you let out a cry.

“Shit! Are you okay?” Eddie says with panic in his voice. He kneels and touches your leg. His eyes are filled with fear as he meets your eyes.

“I-I’m okay.” You try standing up, but bite down on an uncontrollable whimper.

Eddie instantly wraps his arm around your waist, tossing your arm over his shoulder and lifting you. “I’ve got you.” He looks around the woods, making sure you both aren’t in danger. Loud screeching above grabs your attention and Eddie tightens his grip around your hip. “We’ve gotta keep moving. The cabin isn’t far. Will you be okay with my help?”

You nod. “Yes, let’s go.”

With Eddie’s support, you both make it to the cabin. He was right, it wasn’t far. Relief washes over you when the door closes behind you both and Eddie helps you down on the dusty couch. It’s obvious this place hasn’t seen a soul in years or maybe ever. The logistics of The Upside Down are hard to grasp. You only know that it’s a direct reflection of the real world. Is there a family currently sitting on this couch in the real world? Are they happy? Are they warm and safe? These are thoughts that always run through your mind when you and Eddie find a new place to hideout.

“There, that should hold,” Eddie says as he shifts the dining table in front of the door. He wipes his hands on his black jeans and takes a deep breath before joining you on the couch.

“I’m sorry. I should have been paying attention.” You say as you look down at your foot which is still tender.

Eddie looks at you. “Don’t apologize. Things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You hold his stare. His big brown eyes bring you so much comfort in this horrible world. You could have been stuck with anyone here, but you got stuck with Eddie Munson and that alone gives you hope for the future. Maybe someday you both will get out of here alive and live a happy and safe life.

Stop.

Stop telling yourself lies. This is it. There is no life outside of this. There is no happy ending. After months of running this is where it ends. It’s time to accept it.

“Does it even matter if I’m okay or not? We will be dead soon anyway.” You sigh and sink into the couch.

“You’re right. I just don’t like that you’re in pain near the end.” Eddie says softly.

“It’s just tender.”

Eddie looks at you and then around the cabin. “It looks different.”

“You’ve been here before?”

Eddie stands up and walks around the small living space. “A few times. This cabin belongs to Hopper. It’s the safest place I could think of for our…” he trails off and then clears his throat. “Final hours.”

You sit up on the couch and watch Eddie as he looks around. You never knew Eddie or his life before you found him unconscious in this dreadful place. You didn’t care who he was before, you were just so happy to not be alone. Trying to survive alone for two months does something to you. You end up so desperate for human contact that it ends up driving you insane. Eddie was a fallen angel in this place you call hell. You may have healed him, but he saved you.

“I’m glad we are together. You know, in the end.” You say. And you mean that. You’re glad to be with Eddie in the end. As this world burns up you’re at peace knowing you won’t burn alone.

“Me too.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s hard to genuinely smile when you know you’re dying soon. Eddie leans against the doorframe and looks at you. His eyes soften as he takes you in from a distance. You rest your head on the couch cushion and stare back. A small smile spreads on his face.

“What?” You ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes drink you up. The weight of his stare has you shifting a little. “You’re beautiful. Do you know that?”

You roll your eyes as your cheeks burn. “Stop,”

His expression turns serious. “I’m not lying. You deserve to hear that. It should really be the last thing you hear.”

“Maybe it will be if you don’t die before me.” You say teasingly. It’s weird to joke in a situation like this, but it’s the only thing to keep you sane.

“That’s not going to happen.” He assures you as he walks back to the couch and sits next to you.

“How do you know? You could trip over something and hit your head on the counter. Or you could choke on a chip from our last remaining bag. Anything is possible.”

He laughs. “Imagine if a chip took me out. After everything I’ve been through that’s what got me. A chip.”

Now you’re laughing. “Yeah, forget the Demobats or Vecna. Watch out for the damn chips.”

Laughter fills the cabin and it’s as if the walls haven’t heard such a pleasant sound in so long that it echoes your voices, needing more.

As you catch your breath you imagine what’s to come and your smile slowly fades. “Where do you think we would be right now if we didn’t notice the atmosphere cracking?”

You think about it often. Where you would be and what you would be doing if Eddie didn’t realize that the cracks in the atmosphere were early signs of the Upside Down being destroyed. Eddie believes that Eleven found a way to take down this world. The first signs were the doors being sealed shut. There is no way in or out —no way to go back home. That’s when you both started to focus on surviving here. Until you can’t. Now there are fires consuming everything here. It started small and now it’s almost impossible to find shelter that’s not burned down. Today the sky is on fire and you both know, this is it.

“I don’t know. Probably running the streets looking for the next place to sleep.” He answers.

“Speaking of sleep, does this place have a decent bed? I don’t think I can sleep on the floor another night. My back is killing me from last night.” The thought of that hard ground in the woods makes you tense.

Eddie chuckles and stands up, offering you his hand. “You think I wouldn’t find a bed for our last night?”

You smile and follow him into the bedroom. Eddie removes the comforter that’s covered in dust, revealing the sheets in good condition. The pillows get tossed too. You are used to using your arm as a pillow now anyway.

Eddie and you strip off the dirty clothes from the day, leaving you both in your underwear. He is shirtless, but you’re thankful that your tank top is still clean to sleep in. This is normal. You aren’t fazed by sleeping in bed with Eddie anymore. It’s become a comfort to lay next to him at night. In a world of nightmares, you find yourself dreaming peacefully. But, tonight is possibly your last night alive and sleeping seems nearly impossible.

“Eddie?” You whisper into the silence.

“Mm?”

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No, not sure I can.” He says softly.

“Me either.”

A loud screech from outside catches you off guard and you jump causing the bed to shake.

“It’s okay. They won’t find us here. Not tonight.” Eddie says as he shifts in bed to face you. He lightly rubs your arm. He’s only ever touched you in comfort as a friend. You guys have never crossed the line between friends and lovers, even with the noticeable tension between you both. The lingering stares and soft touches have always been laced with something more.

“Can you hold me?” You ask nervously. Tonight you are not alone. Eddie is here, next to you, as the world ends. But somehow it’s not enough. You need to feel him. Because when everything goes black his voice isn’t the only thing you want to hold onto.

Eddie doesn’t answer, he simply wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. You inhale sharply. Your body immediately relaxes. He feels like a warm blanket.

“Is that better?” He whispers in your ear.

You can’t form words, so you just nod. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck. You can feel him inhale and exhale, his chest rising and falling against your back. When he exhales a breath it spills over your chest sending goosebumps down your body.

“Are you cold?” He asks.

“No, I’m fine.” You’re more than fine, but you don’t say that.

His fingers brush over your arm and you freeze, forgetting how to breathe.

“Are you sure? You have goosebumps.”

You smile, even though he can’t see it. “It’s not because I’m cold. It’s your breath on my skin.”

“Oh.” He says softly.

He moves his head back slightly, his lips brushing your neck and he breathes. He breathes slowly and deeply, letting his breath hit your neck. He’s teasing you, being playful like he always is, but you can’t help the small moan that escapes your lips. Your eyes go wide and you bring your hand to your mouth in embarrassment.

Eddie laughs softly and squeezes his arms around your waist. “I haven’t heard a sound like that in…shit, I don’t know.”

Your face turns red. “Well, you won’t hear it again.” You smack his arm, still embarrassed.

Eddie’s laugh lingers and then fades. He pulls you even closer, and now you can feel him completely against your backside. He brings his mouth back to your ear. “Is it wrong to wonder what it would be like?” He whispers.

“What?”

“To touch you. Kiss you.” His lips brush your ear. “Fuck you.”

Your breath catches. “You don’t know what you're talking about.”

Eddie scoffs quietly. “I know exactly what I’m thinking about.” His thumb brushed over the hem of your tank top. “Aren’t you curious?”

“Eddie…”

“Do you remember when you were younger and someone would ask if you’d sleep with a certain person if they were the last person on earth?”

You swallow. “Yes.”

“Well, here we are.” He pulls you onto your back as he sits on his forearm, looking down at you. “And my question is…would you?” His voice is low and it brings back the goosebumps that once disappeared.

You take in his question, thinking about it as if you don’t already know the answer. But you hesitate because even though you feel lucky in this situation—maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s settling because this is what the cards have dealt him and he can’t do anything about it. You don’t want to be the ‘well, what other choice do I have’.

You sigh. “I don’t want to be the pity last fuck.”

“Are you joking?”

“No. I’m serious.” You say, turning back to your side and away from him.

He laughs. “I’m sorry, I’m confused. Do you really think you would be a pity fuck? No, you’ve got that wrong. Being with you in any capacity is a fucking privilege.”

You look over your shoulder to meet his eyes. He gives you a soft smile, but his eyes are serious. “Then, yes. My answer to your question is yes.”

Eddie's eyes glimmer with desire as he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back against him. His hair tickles your neck as he moves his head back to the crook of your neck. “How do you want it?” He asks, his lips brushing your neck again.

“Like it’s the last time.”

Eddie chuckles against your skin and you can’t help but laugh because it tickles. But that laugh turns into a gasp when Eddie lowers his head to kiss your collarbone as his fingers slide down with the outside of your panties and slowly back up. There is no hesitation in his touch as if he’s thought about doing this before.

He kisses up your neck as he moves his hand back down. He’s not wasting any time. You arch your back which causes your butt to press up against him. Eddie let’s put a moan in your ear. He’s already hard against you and he feels big.

“Can you feel me?” He says grabbing your hip as he pressed harder against you.

“Yes.” You breathe.

He grabs your hand and rubs it gently against the outside of his boxers. “Feel how turned on you make me?”

You nod as you feel him, your arm outstretched behind you. He’s against you like the big spoon and you’re the little one. You can't see his face, but you feel him everywhere. Eddie guides your hand from his boxers to your own breast. He brings your hand up your tank top and pulls your bra down enough to guide your hand to cup your breast. You’re confused but follow his lead.

His hand leaves yours and travels down your stomach to the seam of your panties. He whispers in your ear, “Touch yourself as I touch you. Imagine your hand as mine.”

“Okay,”

Eddie's fingers slip under your panties and travel between your legs. He uses his elbow to open your legs wider. His finger lightly moves over your clit and you think your eyes might have rolled back at his touch.

“Mm, Eddie…” You moan.

“Touch yourself. Let me see.”

You move your thumb over your nipple and massage your breast as you remember his request. It feels good, but it feels even better with his hand between your legs at the same time.

“That’s it.” He says watching you. “Doesn’t it feel good?” His finger moves in a perfect circular motion and you wonder if he’s playing you like his guitar.

“Yes, so good.”

“Good. Such a good girl.” He says between kisses on your neck.

His fingers move down where you are soaked for him. You hold your breath with anticipation. He rubs his index finger around your entrance, teasing you. “So wet. Fuck. I can’t wait to feel you.”

You’re aching so badly for him. You look over your shoulder and say, “Then feel me. I don’t want your fingers. I want all of you.”

A deep groan of delight comes from his throat. He doesn’t say anything. He grabs your panties and swiftly rips them off, causing you to jump. He kisses your shoulder and smiles, “Don’t think you need those anymore.”

“Probably not.” You laugh.

Eddie doesn’t change positions, he presses on your back in request to have you bend toward your knees a little. “Atta girl,” He says as he guides himself behind your legs. You’ve had sex before and you’re familiar with doggy style, and even though this is basically the same, laying down like this isn’t something you’ve tried before.

You can feel the tip of his cock press against you. You grab the edge of the mattress as you wait. Eddie slides his hand between your legs and slightly lifts your leg to gain more access. “Is this okay?” He asks.

“Yes.”

And within seconds he’s pushing into you. You suck in a breath at how big he feels inside you. You arch your back further, which gives him more access. He whimpers and drives into you deeper.

“Oh god,” You moan into the mattress. It’s slow but so good. The position he has you in is almost a tease at what he can do. As if he wanted a quick taste of what it’s like.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he moves in and out and his breath is warm against your ear. It’s dark in the room and you aren’t facing him so you are fully focused on his deep thrusts and every part of your body that he’s touching.

“You feel so good, I need more.” He says breathlessly.

Eddie pulls out, leaving you aching. He flips you on your back as he moves on top of you. He looks down at you and smiles. You notice his hand moving to his cock and he wraps his fingers around himself as he looks at you. “I like the way you feel on me.” He says as he moves his hand up and down his wet length.

You blush at the sight of him touching himself. “Oh?”

“Don’t be shy.” He leans down and kisses you.

His lips are soft and gentle. You almost melt into the mattress. His tongue slides over your bottom lip. You are about to give him access to your mouth but your lips part for him in a moan as he slides his cock into you. Eddie tastes the moan on your tongue. He tasting, touching, and fucking you so perfectly. There isn’t one part of his body that isn’t touching yours.

A loud bang and crack come from outside the cabin. The room is now a little brighter —a little warmer. Eddie notices the worry in your eyes and he kisses your cheek. “Stay with me. Focus on this.”

“Okay,” And as the world burns around you both, you moan Eddie’s name and drown yourself in love instead of fear.

Eddie thrusts harder and as he moves in and out he brings his mouth to your breasts. Your hands find his hair, needing something to grab onto.

“Fuck,” He moans against your nipple as you tug on his hair.

“You like that?”

He looks up at you with a devilish smile. “Mm, yes. Harder.” Eddie’s voice is low and primal.

His soft curls tangle around your fingers as you embed them deeper, getting a better grip. As Eddie pushes into you, your fingers pull back on his hair. He lets out a moan as his head falls back. A laugh spills from your lips and you bite his exposed throat lightly.

“Jesus H. Christ,” He groans. He kisses you hard as his hands grab your hips and he drives into you harder and faster.

You both are lost in each other as the world falls apart. This is exactly what you needed. Exactly what you wanted. And you know Eddie feels the same. He’s as desperate for you as you are for him.

Your body begins to shake as the warm build-up begins to reach its peak. Eddie looks at you and says between moans, “Together,” and you find his lips in answer. Stars flicker around the room as you come undone and the sound of Eddie’s release sends you riding the climax longer. His shaking body falls beside yours, still holding you close. He doesn’t let you go.

He plants small kisses against your shoulder. “Last person on earth or not and I’d still consider that the best fuck I’ve ever had.” You laugh and agree.

As you try catching your breath you seem acutely aware of the loud cracking and screeching outside the cabin. At first, you thought you were hot because of what just happened, but it’s the room. Your eyes flick to the window and notice a subtle red hue in the sky.

“It’s the fires. I think it’s happening.” Eddie says softly.

You look at him nervously. “Why aren’t you scared?”

He pulls you close. “I’ve died before —or at least thought I was dying. The first time I was in the arms of a friend, I wasn’t alone in what I thought were my final moments. And here I am again. I won’t be alone and I know that it’s peaceful when you’re lucky enough to be held by someone you love. I mean, fuck, I’m still scared as shit but I’m not alone and that sounds more terrifying.”

A tear rolls down your cheek. You both lay facing each other, almost nose to nose. The noises outside become louder and the red hue is illuminating the room. Eddie pulls the sheet over your heads as his eyes stay on yours.

“I’m right here with you. We are together. Okay?” Eddie says as he gently cradles your face in his hands.

“Okay,” You whisper.

You wrap your hands around his wrists as your legs intertwine together. You’re both so close that you could be one. The sheet covers you both creating a safety cocoon. There is another loud bang followed by the sound of something exploding. It shakes the cabin and vibrates the bed. You close your eyes in fear.

“Look at me,” Eddie says.

You take a breath and look at him. You’re already entering darkness soon, so why not enjoy the view before it’s gone forever? If Eddie’s brown eyes are the last thing you see then it’s the perfect way to go.

Eddie wipes a tear from your cheek with his thumb as he whispers, “You’re beautiful.”

‘You deserve to hear that. It should really be the last thing you hear.’ You don’t know if you’re crying because this is it, you’re dying, or if it’s because Eddie’s last words were for you.

A blinding light flashes in the room and a loud bang breaks through the cabin. Both of your eyes close with instinct and you hold your breath. You and Eddie cling to each other in hopes that you won’t lose each other as you enter the afterlife.

It’s silent.

Until it’s not.

“Eddie?” A faint female voice calls from a distance.

You both don’t move, completely frozen in each other's arms. Is this heaven? Is this hell?

“Eddie?!” Another voice calls. It’s a little deeper, but you can’t tell who it is. Or what’s going on.

You finally open your eyes and just as Eddie’s brown eyes meet yours the voice calls him again, but from inside the bedroom. Only feet away. The room that you thought you died in. This isn’t hell or Heaven, it’s home.

“Eddie, are you here?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide with shock and hope. Hope for our future, because this isn’t how it ends.

Only one word escapes Eddie’s lips before he smiles. “Dustin!”

**

Part 2:

[wantonlywindswept]

adopted baby Guard Din idea that I am never going to write

because it would involve logistics and quiet moments and idle life which I am very down for reading but cannot for the LIFE of me actually sit down and write

So the war ends, Palps is outed as a Sith and an asshole and dies somehow, and the Senate eventually decides that the clones do count as people and thus are allowed to leave the GAR if they want. Give the bureaucrats another few years and they might even give out backpay and citizenship, so long as you stay in the service--wait what do you mean the entire Guard is resigning. What do you mean they've already left orbit?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE NOW MILLIONS OF FILES ON THE HOLONET ABOUT THE SENATE'S SHADY DEALINGS???

Guard, collectively: lol cya suckers

Fox is of course one of the last ones out, and since this was all planned on the down low, everyone's been split into groups so they can take commercial flights, since they're not about to be accused of stealing ships. (They also leave their weapons and their armor behind, in a giant macabre pile in the middle of Corrie HQ. Even their helmets, their faces, they discard: it's time for a rebirth.)

He and Thorn and a few other Corries have a stopover on some tiny station, waiting a week for a delayed transport to arrive, and in the meantime they're approached by some locals who just fled the planet below. Separatist remnants attacked their homes, forcing them to leave everything and everyone behind; can the big strong clones do anything about it?

The Big Strong Clones: Oh shit we finally get to kick some Seppie ass? Sign us the FUCK up.

The eager group does not include Fox, who could not care less about the Separatists and would very much like to finally catch up on his sleep. Unfortunately that means that the group that goes down to the planet is Unsupervised.

(Thorn does not count as supervision. Thorn, bereft of Senate oversight, has finally allowed his Inner Chaos Gremlin to fully emerge. Thorn needs more supervision than the shinies.)

Thorn, three days later, waking Fox from half-hearted sleep by dropping an entire natborn child on him: Hey boss, look what we found! None of the refugees claimed him, so we called dibs. Can we keep him? Fox, staring at the child: ...

Din, staring back: ...

Fox: ...no..?

Din: *sad but understanding big brown eyes*

Fox: Nevermind this is my child now.

Din has gone from two parents to one parent and hundreds of overprotective brothers.

Eventually his group makes it to their destination, Din in tow. I am uncertain of what the destination is but it is a planet that is as far away from Coruscant that the Corries could find. I am tempted for Tatooine not because I like Tatooine (I share Anakin's loathing of sand and deserts) but because Luke's description of Tatooine in ANH was 'if there's a bright center to the universe, this is the planet the furthest from'. 

Corries, hearing that: Fuck it sounds perfect. 

Anyway they make it to Tatooine, there is probably purchasing of some shitty land/buildings that nobody wants out in the wastes bc crime, scum, villainy, etc, but it's not like they have problems taking care of anything that tries to mess with them. 

Where did they get the funds?

Shh don't ask about it.

Stone takes up moisture farming. Thire takes up farming-farming. Thorn shoots gleefully at anything that shows up unannounced within a ten-mile radius. Literally everybody dotes on Din. There are a surprising amount of peaceful days.

Eventually some dumb shiny goes: Hey don't kids need friends? Shouldn't we set up some playdates for him or something?

The shiny is not called dumb for asking the question, but they are called dumb for thinking that the question would only ever be taken rhetorically. Fox disappears for two weeks and then comes back with a black eye and a yowling hissing Boba tucked under one arm, looking stupidly pleased with himself.

(Boba is also pleased to be back with people he knows will keep him safe. Boba will not admit to this under threat of death or dismemberment. Boba is a SERIOUS SCARY ADULT BOUNTY HUNTER.)

Boba also decides he will be Mortal Enemies with Din, which after about ten minutes of meeting him morphs into If Anyone Hurts Din I Will Kill Everyone In This Room And Then Myself because all clones be the same, really.

Din has gained another brother/bestie. (Or potential future boyfriend, whichever floats your boat.)

Somehow they still end up overthrowing the Hutts.

Officially the GAR knew and knows nothing about the Guard leaving Coruscant as soon as the metaphorical paint was dry on their sentient status.

Unofficially Fox's batch harangues him every single day for photos of his new kid(s). They eventually show up unannounced, demanding time with their nephew. (They are shot at by Thorn.)

Din gains five new uncles.

The batch proudly show pics and holos to their battalions. Din gains millions of new uncles.

Fox finally gets a full night's sleep.

[1d1195]

Committed Extra II

Read the rest here: Committed

Based on this ask

I always suggest listening to this TikTok while reading this series but I think they remind me SO much of Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros.

Warnings: 18+, smut, maybe a little more romantic-smut than smut-smut but anyways. Please ignore any continuity errors from previous parts. I couldn't find what I was looking for but it doesn't mean they don't exist. not suitable for Ramadan

~3.2k words

Harry had seen her in a bathing suit. He had seen her in skirts that were not suitable for school and a dress that showed off so much of her cleavage he wondered why she didn't just wear a bra instead. The idea of seeing her fully naked was far beyond what he could possibly imagine. It was every one of his fantasies and more.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So he was going to devour her body instead.

Sarah was going to Mitch’s, which meant her place was empty.

Harry didn’t have any clothes or anything, but he didn’t care. There were leftover items between himself and Mitch so as long as they didn’t have to attend a wedding there was an outfit for him the next day.

The car ride was silent. Unless he heard her heartbeat, which was extremely plausible because it was beating so hard. He held her hand, like he had ten thousand times before, but now it was different. Because Harry loved her. Like really loved her. The way she always dreamed of him loving her. Every time she remembered he loved her she squeezed his hand. It brought a smile to his face, and she swore the needle of the speedometer crept up another increment just to get them home faster.

The logistics of the night hadn’t dawned on her until they were in her apartment living room. Silent as Harry locked the door behind him. Nerves started to swim in her bloodstream. They had incredible chemistry, their friendship was solid, she had seen Harry at his worst—sick with the stomach bug that required a complete change of clothes, and he had seen her sweaty and covered with dirt after helping her dad in the backyard.

If the sex was bad, what would it say about their relationship?

It couldn’t be bad, right? She had waited so long to have Harry in her life in this capacity. Friendship was their opener. Saying I love you was the main setlist. Sex was just the encore. It would be fine.

Right?!

“Are y’okay, kitten?” He asked.

“Hmm?”

“You’re ‘bout t’squeeze m’fingers off m’hand,” she released the death grip she had on it. “Tell me,” he ordered, but his voice was soft.

“I’m so nervous.”

“Nervous?” He repeated.

“What if the sex is bad?”

He chuckled. “I highly doubt it will be bad,” he pulled her close, trapping her against his body, cupping the side of her face and kissing her as if he had kissed her in the very spot a thousand times before. “But m’not with you for the sex.”

“Well, I don’t know what you were up to while I was gone but I haven’t had sex in a year and a half so I would like it to be good,” she murmured.

His eyes scanned her face, searching for something. “Y’think I had sex with someone else while y’were gone?” He asked.

She rolled. “That’s what you took away from that?”

“Who did you sleep with a year and a half ago?” He asked ignoring her follow-up question.

“It’s none of your business!”

“Your body s’all mine now,” he said simply. But it set her skin aflame and her heart into a frantic beat that had her worrying she would need an ambulance on standby outside the building. “S’very much m’business,” he murmured.

“Harry,” she sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. “That guy I went out with for like a month?”

“You slept with him?”

“We went out for a month, Harry.”

“But he was awful.”

“You thought everyone I dated was awful.”

“They were,” he said petulantly. She sighed.

“When did you last have sex?” She asked.

“I don’t know, three years ago?” It should have been embarrassing. But it wasn’t. This was his best friend and he didn’t care.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah right,” she snorted. “No really, I told you. You have to tell me.”

“M’not kidding kitten,” his voice was firm.

“You haven’t had sex in three years?” She still sounded incredulous, and Harry just stared at her waiting for it to click. Her lips parted. “How...why...?”

“When I realized I was in love with y’kitten,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want t’have sex.”

“So you were just going to...never have sex again?”

He shrugged again. “I hadn’t thought ‘bout it t’be honest.”

It was so quiet in the apartment, not even her rapid heartbeat made a sound. “What if it’s bad? What if I’m bad at it? What if it’s not—”

“Kitten,” he sighed and shook his head. “We were terrible at French, and we took three years of it together. We’ll practice. M’not in love with y’because of sex. Obviously—loved y’before sex was an option. M’in love with you because you’re m’favorite person. M’only person,” he reminded her. “I don’t care about sex.”

It should have relieved her but it didn’t. “I want it to be good,” she whispered.

“I do too, kitten. Trust me. But s’not the end all be all.”

Quiet, surrounded them again. “C’mon,” he hummed and tugged her toward the bedroom. “Jus’ say stop if y’need a minute,” he pulled her jacket off her shoulders and bent to slip her shoes off. She felt like Cinderella. He was so gentle and while she was slightly terrified it would suck and he would realize he hated her, it was normal. Harry getting ready to undress her was normal feeling. It was warm, gentle, and all things that were Harry. She felt safe and maybe finally she realized he was probably right. Sex wouldn’t be bad. “We don’t have t’do this tonight either, kitten.”

“No way, you’ve been waiting three years and I think my vibrator is dead so it’s going to have to work,” she explained.

He groaned quietly, began kissing the length of her neck and making the noise vibrate her skin and veins in a way that nearly made her knees give out. “Well, charge it, because I have t’see that,” his breath was hot on her skin making her dizzy.

They stood and kissed for at least three minutes, her hands tugging at the hair on the back of his head silently begging for him to get closer. It was so quiet in her room she was starting to feel uneasy. “Can we put on some music or something?” She whispered.

“Turn on your radio?” He suggested kissing the curve of her neck and shoulder, taking the collar of her shirt away from her neck.

She shook her head. “I downloaded your music onto a CD, and I love you, but I think fucking to the sound of you and our friends would be a little too much for me.”

He chuckled against her skin forgoing the kisses and pulled his phone from his pocket and set up a random playlist.

Harry’s mouth found hers again and he gently guided her back onto her bed. His fingers started to push her shirt up her torso. She pulled away from his mouth and stilled his hands. “What are you doing?” She asked quickly. He chuckled.

“Trying t’take your shirt off. Do y’want t’stop?”

She shook her head trying to shake the nerves away. “Sorry,” her cheeks reddened.

“S’okay,” he assured her. “S’new, s’gonna be a little weird probably,” he amended.

She swallowed. “I don’t really like my body,” she whispered. “I don’t really talk about that with you...” she reminded him.

She was wrong. She was so beautiful and in Harry’s eyes there wasn’t any reason for her to feel ashamed or insecure about her body. It was perfect, exactly as she was. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “M’gonna make y’feel beautiful or we’re never having sex again,” he chuckled.

She giggled despite herself and nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“M’sure,” he nodded firmly. “M’gonna take m’shirt off first, then.”

“No, don’t do that, that’s not fair,” she stopped his hands before he could tug it over his head. “I can’t take my shirt off after yours.”

He laughed a little louder this time and he kissed her sweetly, pecking at her lips over and over as he pulled away. “We can’t do this without being naked, kitten.”

She took a deep breath, sighed, and pulled her shirt over her head.

Harry had seen her in a bathing suit. He had seen her in skirts that were not suitable for school and a dress that showed off so much of her cleavage he wondered why she didn't just wear a bra instead. The idea of seeing her fully naked was far beyond what he could possibly imagine. It was every one of his fantasies and more.

Harry had no way of getting his hands on her beautiful mind and soul. So, he was going to devour her body instead.

His gaze scanned her upper half for a few moments admiring the tiny little bow on the center of her bra right between her breasts. He kissed the swell of each one every so slightly spilling out of the cup. Her breath caught in her throat and Harry kissed upwards, bringing his lips back to hers and he pulled off his own shirt without any fanfare. Harry often walked around without a shirt, when at the pool or a beach he obviously didn’t wear a shirt. This she was used to. Her hands roamed his body and his skin felt so warm and so nice she couldn’t believe she thought this could be bad.

Harry couldn’t get her zipper down.

She giggled and Harry snorted. “Didn’t know y’were gonna wear a chastity belt, kitten.”

The clasp of her bracelet somehow managed to catch on to the fabric of his boxers a few moments later. “Jesus,” she sighed and brought her face so close to the fabric to work it free Harry turned a bright shade of red, cleared his throat and she realized her hand was resting on his dick to get it undone.

“Oops,” she whispered and pulled back. Harry chuckled softly. Every awkward moment was completed with more kisses that by the time Harry finished struggling with the clasp of her bra, (“I’ve never seen a bra with a snap like this!”  “It’s comfier!”) There were only Harry’s boxers and her underwear between them.

“There’s no going back,” she reminded him.

“I don’t want t’go back,” his voice was thick with the promise.

“Me either,” she whispered.

“Kitten,” he tilted her chin up from her staring at his chest. He brought her gaze back to his. “M’so in love with you. Always.”

She nodded. “I love you too,” she smiled.

He brought his mouth to cover hers again and a new feeling took over. The air was hotter, thicker, like they were moving through a pool of water. His lips never stopped kissing her, his tongue stroking softly against her lip as he did. It made her shiver. He curled closer to her, his hand reaching between them and skimming the outside of her panties. Her breath caught at the touch of his fingers on her suddenly aching center. Harry went back to kissing down her throat, over to the space where the curve of her shoulder met her neck. “Want t’make y’feel so good, kitten,” his voice was husky.

She already thought she was going to come undone from just his fingers touching the outside of her underwear and his throaty whisper. His fingers deftly pulled the fabric to the side, and he slid his finger down through the wetness that had accumulated between her leg. She shivered again and moaned softly again. He hadn’t even done anything. But his fingers were searching. Not for what she felt was aching for him most, but for her clit and he found it so quickly it made her cry out as he skillfully circled the pad of his finger on it not too hard but not too soft. “S’good, baby,” he hummed quietly and continued to kiss her. “You’re nice and wet, kitten. Who’s that for?”

“You,” her voice hardly carried through the whisper.

“Good,” he mumbled and dropped his finger lower, teasing her, because it felt like she was clenching, begging his finger to enter her.

Maybe if she had met Harry that night and hadn’t known his personality so well, she would have been shyer and wouldn’t have had the reaction she did. But part of her felt a little competitive and if he was going to tease her, she wasn’t going to let him enjoy it too much.

She pressed her hand to the outside of his boxers, feeling how hard he was and making him gasp at the touch. His hand stilled between her legs, and she tugged his boxers lower, so his dick escaped the fabric. He groaned as she wrapped her fingers around him. “Kitten,” he grunted into her skin, and she sighed as his fingers continued to circle her clit and search for something that she wasn’t sure Harry was going to find.

“Kitten, I haven’t had sex in three years,” he groaned.

“So...you better get inside me quick?” She suggested.

He groaned again. “Yes,” he nodded against her collarbone. “Please,” he almost whined. “Condom?” She nodded and pointed to her nightstand drawer.

She couldn’t disagree. Harry had double the time on her since her last intimate moment, but she wanted him so badly in her she thought if they waited any longer, she would cry. She removed her underwear and Harry sat up to remove his boxers.

Of course, she just finished feeling how big, hard, and long he was. But it was another thing entirely to see his length literally in the flesh. “Did y’jus’ gulp?”

Her cheeks warmed. “You’re...big,” she murmured.

He snorted putting the condom in place. “Y’know how t’give a guy an ego,” but she could see the way his cheeks pinked.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just...I want it,” she caught his gaze and as awkward as everything felt, looking into the pretty green eyes of her best friend, this was not. “I want everything with you.”

Harry’s gaze softened and he dropped his hips between her legs and caught her lips again. The sound of gentle music, their tangled breath, and the skin-to-skin contact was the only noise in the room. Harry reached between them again and slid the head of his cock along the wetness that pooled between her legs again. She moaned, loudly and without abandon. Harry grunted and pushed himself inside her.

It was like sliding the final puzzle piece together. They locked into a position that felt so right, so perfect, every bit of that awkwardness went away as quickly as it appeared. Harry groaned and buried his face in her neck again. It was his new favorite spot, tucked into the curve that smelled like her perfume and her hair. It was entirely her, and so perfect. “Fuck, kitten,” he grunted letting her have a minute to stretch to accommodate his body. It had been a while since there was a dick inside her and despite how wet Harry made her it didn’t help the ache that started as he settled perfectly between her thighs.

“Oh my God,” she whispered breathlessly. “Wow,” she mumbled.

Harry focused on breathing deeply so he wouldn’t burst the second one of them shifted. “We can jus’ stay like this,” he murmured. “Nothing else, for the rest of our lives.”

She kissed the side of his head and nodded. “Yes, please.”

He pulled back slightly, his body readjusted to the feeling and his gaze was hungry as he looked her in the eye. “You are my everything,” he whispered.

Her heart fluttered, as good as Harry’s body felt inside her, it was nothing in comparison to the way his words touched her. “I love you,” she whispered because everything else she thought to say seemed inadequate.

He smiled and brought his mouth to hers, kissed her deeply and started to move.

It felt fast and slow at the same time. A juxtaposition that she didn’t know was possible. Every time Harry’s hips pushed from hers to create a heavenly friction, she followed him begging for him to come back. It felt like being apart from him, even the inch he moved to make everything feel better, was too much. She thought if it felt any better, she would cry.

“Fuck,” he groaned pumping into her at a steady rhythm. Her hands searched his body, the length of his back, digging her nails into his hips to keep him close to her. His hands held her hips in place so he was able to provide the right leverage that angled his cock, so it hit every right spot.

“Baby,” she moaned into his neck and kissed his skin. He groaned again in response. He twisted her as if he had done it about a thousand times and suddenly, she was on top of him. Pressing her hands onto his chest and moving her hips up and down so she was gliding rhythmically up and down his length.

“This was a horrible idea,” he moaned. “M’gonna finish jus’ looking at you.”

She blushed, covered her face with one hand, and laughed lightly. “It feels so good,” she whispered. “I don’t want to leave this bed.”

Harry brought her body close, one hand cupping the back of her neck and other slid down her back, gripping her butt. “We don’t have to,” his voice was hungry and he sealed his lips between hers.

“I’m going to...” she bit the inside of her lip and buried her face into his neck again. “Oh my God,” she moaned.

Harry answered her moan with his own again and met each of her thrusts with his hips. “S’good, kitten. Fuck,” he sighed. “Wanted this for so long,” he brought her mouth. “Can’t wait for you t’cum all over me and then do it all over again,” he groaned.

His voice made her ache all over. She was already aching. She wanted to stay like this for the rest of her life. Maybe longer if it was allowed.

She had a vibrator and she had sex enough times to know when she was going to have a good orgasm. But this was nothing like that.

This was so much more. The connection she felt to Harry the adoration and love she felt was more than any tingling, body shaking reaction she ever had when Harry thrusted into her just so. “Oh there, there, there,” she begged and dropped her face to his neck again with a heavy sigh.

“M’here, kitten,” he promised holding her close to him. “Right there,” he repeated thrusting as she rode through the toe-curling, body shaking orgasm. He nipped at her shoulder as he finished. Sighing heavily she dropped to him fully, her body warm, and he kissed her forehead. He brushed her hair down kissed her again. “Gotta get off, kitten,” he murmured.

“I already did,” she mumbled back.

He chuckled. “Just two minutes, kitten,” he assured her. “I love you,” he whispered. She sighed deeply, rolled to the side and let Harry get out of bed quickly. When he returned from the bathroom she was sprawled across the bed facedown. “You okay, m’love?” He asked.

She nodded. “I love you too, Harry.”

He chuckled, wrapping himself around her like a koala bear. “Good.”

“Wanna do it again?” She asked.

He laughed and kissed along her back. “Already?” He asked.

“Gotta make-up for all that lost time. And three years, Harry!”

He smiled against her skin. “Give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need. We have forever now.”

--

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committed taglist: @tiaamberxx

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

HI ERIC HELLO PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

i literally can't stop thinking about something

i loveee re6 AUs with luis, but

death island!luis !!!!

specifically, a scenario where he saves leon instead of/with rebecca. like imagine him working with rebecca on the vaccine and delivering it to the island to save leon and the rest 😭😭

and i actually see two scenarios here

either luis is obviously alive and all, and leon knows it, and it's just, hey! my husband's here to save the day!!

OR it's a big reveal lol. rebecca shows up there like, 'a friend helped me', and it's LUIS there with her. like, i know rebecca is super capable and she made the vaccine all alone in the movie , but just imagine if it was actually a bit more complicated, so she would have to reach out for help, and who would be better than luis

i NEED to see luis and rebecca team up, they'd work so well together 😭😭

and older serennedy!!!!! omg

i just need to see older luis 😭😭 and the parallel with him delivering the suppressant in re4, and now the vaccine

i don't know what i wanted to say with this and i really didn't think it through that well, and it's rushed, but i really need to share these thoughts 😭

@silverhexrt HI SO UM. THIS ASK WAS SENT IN JUST OVER A WEEK AGO and it gave me SUCH AGGRESSIVE brain worms that I was like Oh this would make for SUCH a cute little Drabble!!!!! But then I just. Kept going. So I accidentally made a whole entire fic for you!! I really truly hope you don’t mind!!!!!!!!! ;^^/

I know this blog is more of a character analysis blog so if you or anyone else still wants to talk to me about the LOGISTICS of what Luis in Death Island would look like I’d be MORE THAN HAPPY TO RAMBLE cuz I am SO FASCINATED by how that would work character and legalities wise,,, but uh for now!! I hope you don’t mind this little thingymadgig I made!!!

Fatigue was the overwhelming sensation dragging Leon’s body down. His breathing was labored and his skin burned against the Velcro of his protective gear- far from unfamiliar territory in terms of the worst symptoms he’d survived. But this somehow felt so, so much worse.

Leon felt like he was dying. Like actually dying. Which was downright terrifying.

He hated that he even knew what dying felt like. Leon could easily pick up on the little ways his body began to shut down; it felt like he couldn’t breath in far enough to fill his lungs, his limbs felt weighed down by an invisible force, his vision was blurry… except, this time, it was his own body killing him from the inside-out.

He was much more used to- even comfortable with- the close brush of death being from the hands of a Bioweapon or loose debris crushing his body. Leon at least had some level of control in those scenarios. He could kick and wriggle and spit and cuss out whatever was holding him down until a miracle freed him and he could load bullets into the face of whatever was hunting him.

But Leon couldn’t run from his own body, no. And oh, how badly did he wanna run until his legs burnt beneath him.

Leon had only ever felt that inherent, gut-wrenching urge one other time. One other time when he was on the brink of death and freedom alike; warm tan hands and cold needles in an isolated village so far from home. Leon could’ve taken the medicine and ran. He could’ve watched the world burn from behind his lovers back as they chased windmills without a care in the world.

He could’ve faced death in the eye. He could’ve taken the blade of the knife for him. He could’ve been just a fraction of a second too late for Ashley. Oh, the possibilities.

What a weird time to be thinking about Valdelobos. Maybe it was just his oxygen-deprived brain desperately trying to connect the dots for one last dream. Like falling asleep with the TV on and having a dream about the movie you’d just watched. Arias had his own ‘inspirations’ from Los Illuminados, after all. Maybe he was just trying to think of one last happy memory to drift off to.

Leon hoped dying would be a little bit like falling asleep. He was never religious, never superstitious- but deep down he hoped that he’d be reunited with the loved ones he’d lost. Finally, finally getting the chance to feel those warm palms against his cheek that he missed oh-so dearly.

Leon sighed and let the concrete below his hands wobble a little. He could just barely make out Chris and Claire’s labored breathing from behind him- the only other thing keeping him grounded.

But god was it getting hard. He couldn’t tell if it was just the pure exhaustion or the virus or what, but Leon’s head felt so heavy. Heavy enough that it almost felt as though somebody was holding it up for him. He let himself pretend, just for a moment, that it wasn’t just his imagination. That the warmth on his cheek wasn’t his flushed skin and were instead the hands of a lover, keeping him upright and rested against a beating heart that Leon was sure was just the blood roaring in his ears.

He let himself pretend that the stroke he felt against his cheek was his lovers thumb. A lover so considerate that they’d wipe the blood off of his skin and tuck the loose hair behind his ears. He pretended that the murmuring of his ears giving in was somebody talking to him, whispering comfort in his final moments.

Leon almost let himself give in completely to the imaginary man holding him- the distant scent of leather and cigarettes felt so real, after all- but a cold prick against his neck and the immedie, cold relief of fluids beneath his skin snapped him back to reality.

His breathing came back to him in time with his heartbeat, his fingertips pulsed with the sudden pumping of blood, and…

The feeling of somebody holding him hadn’t gone away.

His cheek was still warm with another man’s hand. His nose still stung with the smell of leather.

His heart was still beating in time with somebody else’s.

Leon hesitated. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He knew he was just dreaming- that he’d look up and the vision of the man he yearned for every night would disappear like a mirage. He wanted to keep them closed and pretend for as long as possible. Until-

“Leon? ¿Corazón? Mierda, Rebecca, he’s not responding-“

Leon’s eyes opened just slightly.

He was staring down at the concrete, somebody must’ve moved him to get access to his neck easier. But he wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t dreaming of the arms clad in white wrapped around his shoulders and the ringlets of curls that fell around his vision, shielding him from the fluorescent Alcatraz prison lights.

Warm hands went back to stroking his cheek.

Leon wasn’t dreaming.

“Leon? Oh, please wake up,”

His voice sounded so broken, so quiet. Leon had never heard of it like that. It broke his heart.

“I can’t- I can’t leave you here, not like this, not again, please…”

Leon couldn’t take it anymore. He was terrified to roll over and face the man he’d chased in his dreams for so long but he had no other option. He’d rather he disappear and it all be his imagination than hear him this sad ever again.

Leon turned his head and blinked up at Luis like a newborn deer. His big, brown eyes were wet with tears but that stupidly charming smile was unmistakable.

“Hey there, Leon…”

Luis managed to croak out, the hand against his cheek trembling from the tears. Leon reached his own shaky hand up to brush Luis’ long, grayed locks out of his face just as he had done moments before for him.

“I must be dreaming,” Leon huffed out, and Luis chuckled, shaking his head and the tears from his reddened cheeks at the same time.

“If you’re dreaming, then so am I, I’m afraid”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Luis chuckled and Leon wasn’t far to follow suit. Even with the end of the world on his shoulders- even with Dylan fighting tooth-and-nail to break down his, Jill’s and everyone else’s spirits- Leon still found time to laugh with Luis like it was autumn of 2004 all over again.

“Just like old times, eh, Sancho?” Luis gave a little sniffle, and while Leon had more than too many questions to ask- how he was even alive was obviously the most pressing- he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Yeah,”

He let himself rest his head against Luis’ chest. Heart beating strong, almost as if to mock Leon for ever doubting his lover's strength.

“Just like old times, Don Quixote…”

[musings-of-a-rose]

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x f!reader

Word Count: 1500+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Look, I know this would never happen and the logistics are a nightmare. But this is fic and I do what I want. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for reading this over! And thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for the equipment line. Pure genius, as usual!

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia Masterlist

"Are you sure we're allowed to be here?" I whisper, looking back over my shoulder like I expected someone to be there, following us. 

Mickey shrugs. "Captain Mitchell brings his girlfriend all the time."

"Yeah, but he's Maverick. He can do whatever he wants."

My boyfriend, who thinks he's so funny, chuckles, his fingers laced between my own as he pulls my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "You've been asking me for damn near a year to see the planes I fly. You really gonna back out now?"

"I don't want to be arrested."

Mickey laughs. "You won't be. Kicked off base, maybe."

"Ok, maybe we should go back to the bar, Mick."

He spins me around, pushing my back against the hanger wall, the metal cool on my back as he presses his body to mine, his fingers gently tipping my chin up to face him. His lips are soft on mine, a slight neediness behind them before he pulls back. "Do you trust me?"

I sigh, my fingers trying to grasp the tight fabric of his uniform as I pull him back down towards me. "With my life."

He kisses me softly again before pushing away from the wall, offering me his arm. I take it, my cheeks warming under his smile as he guides me out of the building and onto the tarmac. 

I gasp, fighter jets all in a neat line glisten in the setting sun, each of them just as powerful as the next. They make me feel small but not in a bad way. More like, I'm in awe of their presence and the skill it takes to master one. 

"Which one is yours?" 

"It's not really mine. They belong to the Navy."

I punch his arm lightly. "You know what I mean."

He leads me over to a jet a few down from the front and tells me all about it. What all of the markings mean, what it's made of, how fast it can go. His eyes light up, a proud smile always tugging at the corners of his lips as he continues talking. 

"Hey baby?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Can I see you in it?"

"You wanna see me in the jet?"

"Very much so."

"Alright. Wait here." Mick reaches up and pulls a ladder out from the side of the jet. He gives me a quick kiss and a wink before he ascends the stairs, opening the cockpit and lowering himself inside. He waves a hand to me, beckoning me to him.

"Come on up!"

I take a breath and ascend the narrow stairs, my hands slightly sweaty against the metal handrails. But then I'm at the top, looking down into Mick's upturned face, those espresso eyes waiting expectantly. 

"There's a lot of buttons."

He laughs, shoulders shaking with it as his smile makes me warm. "Yeah there are."

"Do you know what they all do?"

"Of course." He starts pointing and explaining each of the buttons, his face lighting up with each explanation. I watch him, the small movements he makes to point to another one of the thousand buttons on the console, a smile stretched across his face as he keeps glancing at me to make sure I'm paying attention. 

As if I could look anywhere else. 

"You look hot as fuck, Mick."

He stops mid sentence, the tips of his ears heating up. "What?" 

"You're so fucking hot." I glance around and see no one. We're completely alone on the strip. "Sit back."

He does as I ask, his eyebrows raised in silent question. But as I lower myself carefully down onto his lap, his eyes darken, hands settling on my hips. 

"What are you doing, babe?" He asks, his eyes darting down to my lips. 

I scratch my nails lightly at the back of his head, loving the feel of his shaved cut under them. I kiss him, slowly moving down his neck, my hips moving of their own accord. 

"I need you, Mick."

He pants in my ear before pushing me a little to get me to sit up, making sure I'm looking at him. "This is a serious piece of equipment, babe."

"You're a serious piece of equipment."

His eyes glance down at my lips and for a moment we don't move, me waiting for him to accept or say no. 

"Fuck it." He grips the back of my head, pulling me to him, the hand that had been on my hip now sliding up my bare thigh. I moan into his mouth when his fingers brush against my wet cunt. 

"Fuck, babe you're so wet."

"Watching my extremely hot boyfriend sit in his fighter jet while he Ted Talks me about it with giddy excitement really turns me on." 

"You're such a slut." He kisses me, sliding his fingers under my panties and I gasp at his touch. 

"Only for you."

He inserts a finger and then another, guiding my hips down on them as I moan. But it's not what I want. I grip his wrist and pull him from me, feeling my wetness on his fingers as they brush past my inner thigh. Sliding my hands down his chest, I kiss him again, my fingers fumbling with his belt, moving his zipper down and cupping him. He gasps into my mouth, hardening even more the longer I hold him. 

I push down the top of his boxers, gently pulling him out as he slaps against me. Our breaths are steaming up the windows, his soft whimpers filling the silence as I push my panties aside and line him up, sinking down onto him, my mouth hanging open as I stretch around him. We waste no time, my hips moving over him as he thrusts up into me, pulling his favorite sounds from me. He wraps his arms around my back, holding onto my shoulders as he thrusts faster, harder, and it's all I can do to hold on, one hand gripping his arm and the other splayed across the window. 

"Oh fuck, Mick! I'm gonna…" my orgasm comes on quick, my body tensing as I chant his name over and over, my hips rocking against his to get as much pleasure as I can. I see he's close, so I look down at him, meeting his dark gaze. 

"Come inside me, Lieutenant Garcia."

"Fuck!" Mick groans, whimpering as he spills inside of me, hips thrusting a few more erratic times, his breaths panting out across my face. Mick looks up at his girl, the last of the days sunlight on her face, sweaty and fucked out and he thinks he's never seen anyone so beautiful before. 

"You ok, Mick?"

"I love you."

"Of course you do. I just fucked you in your jet."

"No. I mean it. You're the most beautiful person I've ever met and you love me for me. I love you."

His eyes are bright and wide as he looks at me and it's then I realize that I love him too. I lean down to him, pressing my lips to his before cupping his cheek, pulling back just enough for him to see me. 

"I love you too, Mickey." 

—----

An hour later, we walk into the bar, Mick's arm around my shoulder, pressing a kiss to my temple as we walk up to his group of friends. They all greet us, shaking hands and cracking jokes. Only Bob seems to notice my slight limp, looking from me to Mick, the way he holds me close, his fingers playing with mine. When I look at Bob he winks, giving me a small smirk before taking a drink. When we pass by him later, Bob grabs Mick's wrist and pulls him closer. 

"I hope you cleaned up the jet when you were done. I don't want to fail inspection." 

My cheeks heat up, but then Mick is speaking quieter. "At least I made sure not to leave her panties behind, Bob."

My mouth falls open as I look at Bob, whose cheeks are warming, his ears turning pink. He just smirks and nods, lifting his glass to us. "Touché." 

-------

General Taglist:

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[lemon-russ]

I am all weird and feverish and migraine-y and its like 1am, so please enjoy this small aside I have written to segway the next arc of this tropey silly self indulgent fic <3

Also on phone so formatting is off

--------------- 💀 ------------------

(We have dividers at home/ dividers at home:)

7.5 / ???

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 7.5 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10

Cato Sicarius x F!reader

(But not right now this ain't about him)

CW: description of a panic attack

Summary: Ambassador does not want to take a break from work. And is NOT the family pet mortal. Maybe.

Word count: 955

Warning, very minimal editing and I'm dyslexic, like actually literally, so there may be more mistakes than usual. Apologies.

You resume much of your normal work again after the disaster of your last meeting. Thankfully the few meetings you have for the next couple of days are just diplomats and officials you work with regularly.

Most you don't need any sort of guarding, either they come to you or are Astartes from other chapters. In the time you aren't meeting people, you are in your little office connected to Guilliman's, doing paperwork. You're not supposed to be, of course, but you sneak it. He really worries too much.

You're writing out come contracts and supply logistics when there's a knock on your door. “Open.” You say automatically. Guilliman opens the door and steps in, frowning at your paper pile. You keeo writing, glance up, glance back down, then snap your head up and drop your pen, covering the papers with your arms and smiling sheepishly up at the primarch.

“Ah, My Lord, what a surprise!” You chuckle out nervously. He frowns and rolls his eyes, pulling up a much too small chair and sitting across from your desk. “Ambassador, are you alergic to relaxing?” He asks tiredly. “This is the 3rd time in 2 days I've found you sneaking work. This is usually the opposite of how these things go- most people sre sneaking not working, you know.” He says, laying his hands in his lap and sitting up straight and polite. It's a comical sight, he looks like the chair is for children when he uses it.

You grimace at him. “Sir, please, these are already overdue, and I don't want to take time if it just piles up my work for later-” you plead. He chuckles a little, then stands and reaches over your desk. In one motion he sweeps all of your work into his other hand. You gasp. “Sir- please- there's an order to those-” you panic, running to his side and trying to take the papers back.

He chuckles more, holding them far above your reaching hands. “Ambassador, I will be taking over your duties for a couple days. And because I can't trust you not to sneak around and work, I am forced to assign you a babysitter.”

You look up at him, horrified, “my lord, theres a delicate ecosystem to my filing system- wait, did you really call them a babysitter?” You squeak indignantly. He grins, “yes, not a guard, a babysitter, because you are behaving like a disobedient child.” He turns on his heel and strides to the door. “And I'm sure I can manage your delicate ecosystem of paperwork for 3 days.”

You think you're having a panic attack. Your stomach lurches, your head is fuzzy, you can't catch your breath- “three days? Please, my lord- i have so many meetings, I'm going to be so behind, my filing system is based on vibes and very specific-”

He smiles a little softer. “This right here- this is why. Look at you. You're spiraling because I'm offering to take work off of you. You need a vacation, Ambassador.” He walks back and rubs your back soothingly, not unfamiliar with your reactions like this. “It's going to be fine. Fun, even. I'm sending you somewhere nice.”

You take deep breaths, counting forward and back to 10 in your mind- did he say send? “you're making me go somewhere too?” You whimper. He sighs and chuckles. “It's a nice place, a safe, pretty planet, lots of hotsprings and dancing, beautiful weather. Please, ambassador. Think of it like an assignment if it helps. I'm giving you a mission to go to this lovely, calm place for a few days with Commander Titus and a couple others, so that you don't just up and die on me too early.” He chided softly.

Five things you can see, four things you can hear, three things you can smell-

Guilliman sighs. “Okay, okay, I'll give you the rest of the day to work and set things up in a way that you can leave to me easier. Would that help?”

You frown, scrunching your brow. You could label some folders, put dates on them, Guilliman was of course very good at organizing and following instructions, it wouldn't be too bad if you were very clear with the labels…. You let out a long, defeated sigh. “Fine…” you submit. “I'll…. Take a vacation…” you mumble.

The primarch grins at you, patting your back. “Excellent. I'll inform the commander and have thing prepared for this evening.” He stands, handing back your papers. You take them and trudge back to your desk, pouting. He chuckles. “There there, ambassador. Why don't I make you your favorite tea, hm?” He offered.

You purse your lips a bit, trying to stay grumpy. You have a thought that this feels a lot like being treated like a pet, but shake it off. You don't have time to unpack how an immortal demigod superhuman might see a particularly favored mortal. You're not a pet though. You're pretty sure.

“Hmm, what if I got those lottle cakes you like to go with them?” He offered, smiling fondly at you.

You cracked a smile, and a few minutes later, sat at your desk sipping tea and eating cakes happily. You sit up and frown a bit. Wait an warp damned minute, you’re a pet!

You frown at your snacks a long moment. Then sigh and keep eating. Could be worse, really. Best to just never ever think about it again, you decide, happily kicking your feet and doing your work.

[achaotichuman]

Hello 👋

I hope you're well

Idk if you're taking prompts for fics but if you are, could you please write something for Tarquin from ACOTAR? Could it be something platonic (not sexual at all), him interacting with the other High Lords or yelling at the IC or maybe just expanding on the Summer Court? I feel like there's so little Tarquin-centric fics and i am dying just to get something.

I hope i'm not pressuring you into doing anything tho (and am really sorry if i'm sounding like i am) becoz if you don't want to or want to do something else, that's fine as well. I love your writing and will be happy regardless

Sorry if i'm disturbing you

Helloo!!!

Omg I love this prompt so much!!

Don't ever think you are disturbing me by sending me prompts, I am always happy to receive them!!! And if anyone is ever wondering whether or not I am taking requests, in the pinned post on my blog, it will tell you whether my inbox is open or closed. We def need more Tarquin-centric fics so I am very happy to write this one!!!

Okay so, I definitely wanted fluff and a touch of hurt/comfort, but mostly good vibes. Tarquin's trauma in the books is completely swept under the rug and I absolutely despise it, so here we see a window into him healing from Under the Mountain. Some friendship with Eris and Tamlin, and his relationship with Cresseida and Varian.

I hope you enjoy anon!!

 I’m almost me again, she’s almost you

I got some colour back, She thinks so too. I’m almost me again, She’s almost you. -(Almost (Sweet Music) Hozier

I’m running a circus. Tarquin thought to himself as he watched the three lords around the glass circle table bicker over minor details of the recent High Lord’s meeting. Debating seating arrangements, decorations and who would greet who. Tarquin listened as each Lord gave his opinion, only to be talked over by the other. 

Eventually though, his eyes slid to Cresseida who met his gaze. He gave the slightest of nods, and she plucked a crystal bell from the table. Ringing it loud and suddenly to catch the full attention of everyone in the room. 

Tarquin smoothly stood from his seat, folding his hands in front of him. He said cooly, “We will assess and organise the arrangements as necessary, but first I would like to discuss the logistics of the meeting with my second. For now you are all excused.”

There was a murmuring of ‘yes High lord.’ And general thank you’s for the meeting before everyone began to file out. The door finally clicked shut and Tarquin fell back into his chair. 

Cresseida hid her laugh behind her palm, but couldn’t stop the shaking of her shoulders as she watched her younger cousin practically melt into his chair. 

“What we really need to do is prepare a room as far away from the rest of the Palace as possible. And find some sort of enchanted unbreakable chairs.”

His second nodded thoughtfully, “Perhaps, my lord, we should nail them into the ground so that no one decides it's necessary to use them as an aerial weapon.”

Tarquin faced her with a deadpan expression as Cresseida struggled to reign in her giggles. 

“I swear to the Mother and Cauldron, if anyone ends up getting choked on my floors-”

“We’ll make it mandatory to remove all weapons. And ask Thesan for his spells to ward the room against magic.”

“I think we’d have outrage from the Night Court if we made their spymaster strip off all his weaponry.” He mumbled. 

“Maybe then they won’t come.” Cresseida murmured as she picked at her nails. 

“Cress-”

“It would certainly be a more peaceful meeting then.” She argued. 

“We have to get along with them. If only for Varian’s sake.”

She frowned, “Varian is a love-sick fool. Completely blind, I couldn’t tell you what he sees in her.”

Tarquin waved his hand in dismissal, he didn’t really want to think about his cousin’s love affairs right now. As strange as they may be and as much as he did not understand them. They weren’t his business. 

They were when he found out Varian had been telling Amren Summer’s personal matters. It got him revoked from the Court until Tarquin was completely sure it would not happen again. Since that day, Varian had not been seen in Adriata. And Tarquin didn’t go looking for him. 

“I need a drink.” Tarquin said, standing up and stretching his arms, hearing his joints crack and pop. 

Cresseida stood with him. Her skirts wishing around her ankles. The long, slim flowing blue fabric of the Summer Court billowed in the sea air as they opened the doors. 

Most of the palace was open to the air. The tall stone pillars that lined the hallways, allowing the breeze to waft in. As well as the hot, buttery yellow sun combining with the salt in the air. Tarquin closed his eyes as he breathed it in. 

He had taken it for granted. In his decades before Amarantha came for them, he had taken this all for granted. 

He breathed it in like the salt might burn away the tang of blood which tainted his senses. The thick crimson which had caked Norstrus’ and Brutius’ skin as Tarquin watched them executed. The image was there whenever he dreamt, stained in the sky at sunset, in his the blood rubies he sent to the Night Court after their thievery. 

Tarquin had always hated the colour red, it was too harsh, too cruel, too much like fire for him. It was a stain to the normal whites, blues and gold he wore. 

But after Amarantha, it was a nightmare of itself. 

“Tar?” Cresseida asked, snapping him from his own thoughts. 

Tarquin looked down at Cresseida, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him carefully.

“Are you okay?” She asked. 

Her eyes were an earthy brown, skin made vibrant and dark by the sun again. She was alive, and so was he. She was breathing and he did too. The scars on her arms from where she had been grabbed by the Attor at times hadn’t faded entirely, and the claw marks down Tarquin’s thighs from when he had been in a grapple with one of the guards who picked on Varian still got sore sometimes. 

But they were healing. They would heal in time. 

“Yeah, Cress.” Tarquin smiled and it was real, “I’m okay.”

She smiled back, and he knew she knew what he meant. 

“We’re both okay.” She took his hand and gave it a loving squeeze. 

“You thought you could escape me.” Her voice was dripping with cruelty as she laughed and laughed, “Did you think I wouldn’t see through your plans, oh Norstrus, you weren’t this dense even when I first entrapped you.”

Cresseida grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight enough to grind the bones, as tears flowed relentlessly down her face. She couldn’t stop them. 

Tarquin squeezed her hand back. 

“I feel like something fruity and full of good alcohol.” Tarquin loudly proclaimed, “And let’s go to the beach, I’ve been in shoes for far too long now.”

Cresseida laughed, “Cousin, you are full of good ideas.”

“Ive more ideas that all of Helion’s libraries combined, you should know this well.” Tarquin grinned. 

Cresseida looked out over their people in the city streets far below, she smiled at what she saw, “Of course, of course.”

Tarquin and Cresseida sat at a busy bar at the beach that night. Tarquin got to lose his shoes and feel the sand under his feet, the sea lapping at ankles. Now he savoured a pineapple drink and watched the ocean sparkling in the deep orange light as the sun began to set. The band of red glimmered at him, Tarquin watched as the colours darkened, the stars beginning to shine from the blanket of darkness high above. 

Cresseida happily sipped on her drink, watching the sunset with her cousin. He wondered if she also saw blood in the sky as he did. 

“I love sunsets,” She said, he looked over to her, to see her eyes trained on the display before them. 

“They’re pretty,” He agreed. 

“They’re unique.” She said, “Not one is the same as another. Just like people, you’ll never see one the exact same as the other.”

Tarquin looked over the sea again, the sky an array of blended colours and dimming light. 

He watched the red as it began to fade, seeing that deep orange-tinted colour as it blended with the pinks, blues, purples, fading into the silvery ocean as the sun fully dipped below the horizon. 

“You know,” Cresseida said, “When you were young, I told you that no sunset is the same and the one we saw that night you would never see again.”

Tarquin rubbed a finger along the lip of his drink, listening intently as he turned to stare into the yellow of his drink. 

“You didn’t like that,” She laughed, “You asked me if we could get on a ship and sail to the horizon, if we could chase the sunset and see it forever.”

He followed the line of his fingers with his eyes, his skin, his wrists, his veins. He saw it all. 

“What did the sunset look like that night?” He asked.

Cresseida sighed dreamily as she thought back fondly on the memory, “It was marvellous, the whole sky was red, even the ocean shone crimson. You were amazed by it. Said it looked like the Mother had dipped a bucket of red paint over the sky.”

He remembered it, he remembered holding Cresseida’s finger with one hand and clutching a stuffed seahorse in the other. He had smiled and pointed at the sky and been upset when Cresseida said he would not see it again. 

Perhaps he had not hated red as much as he thought. 

Amarantha had tainted his memory, dragged jagged claws and left a bleeding scar. 

But blood clotted, and scars healed over. His were no different. 

Tarquin turned to face the sky. He looked at the red band, and saw the Mother’s grand expanse of paints. 

Norstrus’ blood would always haunt his mind. 

But he would look at the sunset, and he wouldn’t be afraid. 

______________________________________________

Music played in the air, a symphony of notes that wrapped around his limbs like hands pulling him forward. The night air was cool, the notes of ocean, fruits and citrus salt blew through his hair and pushed him in all directions. 

Every string was plucked with the celebrations of his lands. Tarquin clutched a flute of bubbling Faerie wine in one hand, watching the dancing Fae, twirling and spinning in long fluttering layers of fabric. A sea of blue and gold, as shining and unbound as the ocean itself. 

The meeting was over and he forgot the stress as he drank deeply from his glass. Swallowing each pale gold drop. A haze settled deep in his bones, making him as free as raging currents coursing through the sea itself. Tarquin didn’t know when or how, but he found himself spinning and twisting in the crowds to the music which wrote and rewrote itself into his soul. Etching this memory into his bones. Burning out the memories of days and nights under a cave’s ceiling, they turned to ashes which blew out into the night with the ocean air, replaced with the view of the stars above, the perfume of his Court, and the smiling, free people around him. 

At some point he spotted Cresseida, she was twirled around by a man he hadn’t met before. She met his gaze and laughed, in a second she was beside him. Grabbing his hands and spinning him around. 

“You got wine on your shirt, dunce!” She laughed, throwing her head back, white curls bouncing around. 

Tarquin stopped his spinning just enough to grab his shirt and look down. And instead droplets had splattered across his pale blue and gold shirt. 

“Oh well!” He laughed with her, grabbing her hands again. 

The night spun away from him, it came back to earth when another set of hands caught his wrists. 

“Cousin!” There was Varian, grinning from ear to ear, drunk on alcohol and the spirit of the crowd. 

“Var!” Tarquin caught him in a tight hug, catching Cresseida’s arm once more and drunkenly pulling her into the embrace. 

The three laughed and danced and drank to their merry heart’s content. Allowing the night to sweep them off their feet, whisking them into the antics of the party. 

At some point, sometime very early in the morning, Tarquin found himself laying across an empty beach, the last rays of moonlight shining down on him, painting the sand in pure silver. The ocean shimmering like the scales of a fish with every tiny wave. His shoes were gone, possibly for good, and his loose pants were rolled up past his ankles. 

He laid supported by his elbows. Watching the horizon as the very first drop of sunlight broke from below the horizon. 

“Well that was a wild night.” A voice he didn’t immediately recognise commented. 

Tarquin looked up to see a head of blond nearly right beside him, supporting a near unconscious pale-skinned redhead. 

“Tamlin,” Tarquin grinned, he glanced down at Eris and raised an eyebrow. 

Tamlin laughed, slowly lowering Eris who swayed with every movement like he’d be sick. 

“Too much Faerie wine for you, Lord of Autumn.”

“It was your terrorising cousin who wished to see me undone who kept shoving a full glass into my hand.” Eris said. 

“Cresseida is a force to be reckoned with.” Tamlin noted, flopping down on Tarquin’s other side. 

“Truer words have never been spoken, Spring,” Tarquin said, letting himself fall back down into the sand. Tamlin joined him. Staring up at the last remnants of the stars. 

“You’ll both come to Spring solstice this year.” Tamlin said, not even an invitation, almost an order. Almost, if Tarquin did not know he had long planned to go regardless of if Tamlin even wanted him to be there. 

“And I’ll be at the Autumn Equinox,” Tarquin noted, “I have to get Eris back for emptying out my cellars by doing the same to him.”

“You’ll never succeed.” Eris responded, laying back with them, looking a little more in control of himself, “If there was anything Beron was good for it was collecting the good stuff. There’s hoards of it that will put your treasure trove to shame.”

“We’ll compare and see who comes out on top then.” Tarquin said with a challenging grin. 

“What new kind of dick measuring contest is this? I’ll have to start my own hoard.” Tamlin laughed. 

“What are you going to hoard Tamlin? Flower crowns? Those would rot in mere days.” Eris snapped. 

“That's why you either dry or freeze them, Eris, then you can keep them forever. I still have the flower crowns my mother had her nieces wear to her wedding.”

“Introduce me to them one day.” Tarquin said, “I’ve heard many good tales about Lady Dahlie Fairburn.”

“My mother was awesome.” Tamlin grinned. 

“Your mother’s awesome? My mother is the most awesome,” Tarquin said, “But your mother can have second place.”

“No, my mother is the most awesome.” Eris said, “Not even a competition, you two can fight over second place.”

“Oh, please,” Tamlin scoffed, “It’s not even a fair contest, Tarquin never even met my mother.”

“What are the three of you bickering over?” Someone else chimed from above. 

Tarquin tilted his head as back as he could to try and make out who stood above them. 

“Mother, you’re just in time!” Eris chimed, clambering to sit up properly. 

Andrea took in a deep breath whilst the observed the three males try and stumble to get up. Dusting sand that stuck to their wine-stained clothes and hair. 

“Come inside the lot of you, you can sleep all this off.” She said, beginning to walk back to the Palace. 

“Wait Andrea! You knew my mother, you can settle this argument.” Tamlin shouted after her. 

Eris, Tarquin and Tamlin got up and started running after the Lady of Day. The soft fluffy sand cold beneath their feet, turning to the stone steps and the rocky cobblestone as they continued to argue. 

Andrea laughed as she listened to the three, her ribs ached as they tried to make her pick who would win their imaginary competition. 

The sun’s rays grew stronger, blue bleeding into the dark as day overtook night. 

Tarquin looked up at the sky and saw the endlessness spread out for all to see. 

Maybe he was stained with the darkness of that depraved mountain forever. 

But right now. 

He was almost him again. 

[pedge-stuff]

PLEASE WRITE A PART 2 for accident! I’m obsessed

I hadn't planned on it, but... this has been arranged.

accident p. 2 (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked," as always.

summary: you let him fuss.

It's well past midnight as you key into the apartment. Pedro busies himself by getting you settled, although his movements are almost as sluggish and haggard as your own. Six hours in the ER had taken its toll.

"Why don't you head up?"

You'd sat on the chair by the door, intent on untying your shoes, but had apparently been staring at them for the last few moments. Without a second thought, Pedro kneeled before you. "I'm gonna take the dogs around the block, and then I'll close up down here."

You are struck, not for the first time this evening, by an overwhelming wave of gratitude. How did you get so lucky?

He jingles the leashes, pausing to kiss your forehead before heading out.

It takes you way too long to get up. Some combination of exhaustion and low-dose Vicodin have you zoning out, effectively sleepwalking without Pedro to move you along. There is a pharmacy baggy on the counter, but by the sluggishness of your thoughts, the remainder of the prescription might need to go untouched.

Eventually, you drag yourself upstairs.

Everything feels dirty. The loaned scrub pants come off easily, shed in the doorway of the ensuite, to be dealt with later. (Thrown away, burned, ripped to shreds... Dealer's choice. Anything to be rid of them and put the whole evening behind you.)

You want to take the hottest shower possible, and scrub off the invisible hospital residue until your skin is raw. But the prospect of standing for long enough to get clean is... logistically impossible.

At least your dominant hand is uninjured. You reach around, fumbling with the buckle on the back of the sling. For a broken bone, it wasn't very high tech— just a few pieces of fabric holding the two halves of your left clavicle in place. But the damn thing may as well have been a rubik's cube, for how impossible it was to unstrap.

That's about where Pedro finds you: back down to your underwear, hunched on the closed lid of the toilet, frustrated to tears.

"This is so stupid."

"Baby," he starts softly. His dinner attire has been pared down to slacks and an undershirt. "Please let me do this for you."

A brown paper bag is set on the counter, so he can gently remove the sling, followed by the scrub top. Eyes closed, you wilt on the lid. Pedro reaches to plug the tub, without asking, though you nod slowly as he looks back.

The man busies himself as you watch on: changes into a well-loved pair of flannel pajama bottoms, tosses some lavender epsom salt into the slowly-filling water, swears a blue streak doing something suspiciously loud in the other room.

When he returns, slightly red in the face, the bath has been filled.

A not-insignificant part of you had hoped he'd be joining, but Pedro chooses instead to perch on the side, running a hand through your hair as you settle against the porcelain. From within the paper bag, a bag of mini Reeses cups are presented.

"Bodega dinner," he says proudly, adding, "you gotta eat something, baby."

"I'm okay," you whisper, though you're not talking about the peanut butter, at all.

"But you almost weren't," he says hoarsely. "I keep replaying that phone call over and over again in my mind. I think my heart stopped for a second. I just..."

You can only nod, mutely. The feverish, borderline frantic look in his eyes traps any response in your throat. (Honestly, he'd been looking at you like that all night. Hasn't really taken his eyes off you since he found you in the hospital hallway.)

So, you let him fuss.

Out of the tub, you lightly dread bedtime, though you've been fantasizing about sleep now for hours. The doctor had specifically warned against sleeping on either your side or back, instead sending you home with a diagram of how to sleep sitting up. Which sounds worse than a car accident, frankly.

But, upon entering, you discover the bedroom has... transformed? Your bed, normally centered, has been pushed into the corner. One nightstand has been abandoned in the middle of the room.

"I'll move that later," Pedro says sheepishly.

All the pillows on the bed, and from the chaise in the opposite corner of the room, have been gathered in a clumsy pile. The dogs have already assumed their positions against the footer.

Pedro shucks off his undershirt, and crawls into the makeshift nest. With pillows to support his often-fragile back, he reclines against the wall corner. Pats the mattress.

"You can't lay down," he warns, as you shift onto the bed. "The doctor was really particular about that."

"Sitting up," you echo. Although, at this point, you'd crash standing up if it meant you could finally fucking sleep.

Pedro splays his legs. "Come here."

Carefully, one-handed, you maneuver yourself according to his gesturing. Settling, back-to-chest, against him; legs between his legs. Propped up like a rag doll. As if on autopilot, Pedro's arm comes up to wrap across your stomach.

"This can't possibly be comfortable for you," you protest.

His lips brush your temple. "I promise." His grip tightens; you are a human teddy bear, which feels appropriate, since your brain is full of stuffing.

Each rise and fall of Pedro's chest presses warmly against you. There is nothing to wake up for tomorrow, no alarm to set— you'd cancelled your Sunday Brunch plans sometime between the IV and the x-ray.

"Hey." You loll your head against his shoulder. Can't meet his eyes, from this angle, but in the darkness of the bedroom, it doesn't really matter.

"Hey."

Your fingers lace with his, where they clutch around your side. "I love you."

"Mm." His chin hooks over the top of your head. "You have no idea, sweetheart."

[drabbles-mc]

For the dirty A-Z headcanon game 😉 Giiiiirl I have been sitting on these until I saw you come up for air 🤭

O - For Riz, Angel, Gilly and Coco

Please & thank you *curtsey*

GIRLLL you know how I get when you throw a whole roster in my ask box like this 😈😈😈😈

Headcanons below the cut for:

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

Let the record show!!! I think that Riz is one of the only guys who has not done it in public. I don't think it's because of a lack of opportunities, either. I just feel like he is the type of guy that doesn't see the possibility of getting caught out in public like that as a turn-on. I don't think that it falls into the thrill category for him. What I DOOOO think, though, is that he is the type of man who will gladly and eagerly get his girl on the back of his bike to speed home and take care of business rather than risk it in a public place somewhere. Love that for him 😌

Angel Reyes has the body of a grown man but the mind and impulse control of a horny teenager. That man has hooked up in public before and he WILL do it again 😂😏 I know that canonically Bish has fucked in the clubhouse but I simply will not believe that he's the only man in the club who has done so. Angel has disrespected that billiards table before. He's found out the hard way how not sturdy the tables in that clubhouse are, not that it serves as a real deterrent. I think he's also the type for a quickie in a bar/club bathroom even when he's at places that aren't the clubhouse. That man has no shame. I also know in my heart of hearts that this man has gotten his dick sucked in at leasttttt one alleyway/behind a bar type scenario. I just know it.

Our man Gilly though?? I feel like he might not exactly be the type of guy to suggest the idea, but I do think that if his girl says something or otherwise makes it known that she's down he's nottt gonna be saying no. He might not be quite as shameless as Angel but I don't think that he's exactly a Modest Mary either 😏 It's all fun and games until his girl gets him riled up while they're out somewhere and she goads him with a, "do something about it, then," and suddenly it's all rough wandering hands and harsh whispers off in a back corner or a seemingly empty hallway somewhere. He'll be mean about it but in a sexy way so we'll allow it. 😌 When it's all said and done and everyone's back home tucked into bed, that man will 110% be staring up at the bedroom ceiling thinking about it. I also think he's the type to know that trying to hook up in a parked car somewhere is a logistical nightmare but if his girl really wants to he'll find a way to make it work. King shit.

Coco is the king of, "I'll try anything once" and this DOES extend to places to hook up. Honestly, I can't for the life of me remember who wrote it, but many moons ago I read a fic on here about Coco and his girl hooking up/fooling around on the hood of his car?? Or up against the side of his car??? Details unclear but the vibes were immaculate and I think about it on a weekly basis. 😌 Coco is the type to hook up with you in public and he WILL whisper and talk shit to you the entire time about how well you can or can't keep quiet. Also I know for a fact this man will let you bring him on any shopping trip you go on because he is GOING to fuck you in the dressing rooms.

Thank you for bringing this back into my life. Kissing you forever 😘😘

Dirty Headcanon Game

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

phew, ok gonna just ramble for a minute! for the last couple of days i've been getting so caught up in my milex feelings and the letdown after the anticipation that i almost forgot to be properly excited for this trip 🙈 but now that i'm actually in dublin, after listening to arctic monkeys and miles tunes on the flight and getting hyped about seeing my one of my best irl friends from london again for the first time since june, it's much easier for me to put things in perspective, thank goodness!! i'd have kicked myself later if i spent my time here moping (which i've kind of been doing these past two days) instead of being excited about getting to see my all time favourite band play again (twice!!) AND with miles as well, and just have a fun trip with my friends in dublin (even though it'll be raining cats and dogs, but we'll be in the pub most of the time anyway 🍻)

after the london gig in june i really thought that was it for a couple of years, so to have been given this extra opportunity to see them again so soon is insane and an absolute blessing. i'm SO fucking excited, i can't even tell you 😭 these will be my 8th and 9th arctic monkeys gigs to date, and i'm still just as hyped as i was 10 years ago, and i think that's worth reflecting on for a minute ❤️

i'm putting some more musings about the milex situation under the cut for anyone who might be interested in a different perspective, but mostly it's just for me, to be able to untangle the mess that my mind has been in these past few days. also, please know that i'm definitely not trying to invalidate anyone's concerns or diminish anyone's feelings, because lord knows i've been feeling all the things the past few days and all those feelings are very (very) real!

i guess what i just keep coming back to is the fact that arctic monkeys (or alex, really, lbr) asked miles to be the support for these four dates when they absolutely didn't have to do that, and that if there was any bad blood between them then they totally could've asked anyone else. but they didn't, they asked miles! and miles agreed! it's much more likely that the fact that they're not playing together is due to logistics (with the orchestra and limited rehearsal time) and wanting to highlight miles's new album than any personal reasons tbh. they're professionals doing their jobs first and foremost, and while obviously we'd love a display of sentimentality, if that doesn't fit the show for whatever reason then it makes sense they don't give us that. i'm sure it's all been discussed and agreed on between them, and that they're doing perfectly fine behind the scenes. it's true that miles shows us a lot of himself, but alex and the other boys do not, so it also makes sense to me that what miles shares about them/their interactions with him is limited too, much as i'd love to see him gush about them and post bts footage. i always find that i get easily swept up in emotions and conjecture when i'm watching things unfold from a distance, through the tumblr/fandom lens, but i forget sometimes that that is a heavily coloured lens, and that real life is often very different, despite what social media etc. may seem to show. and for me personally, i've noticed that sometimes it's really good to break out of the bubble for a bit and see things from a different perspective, so i'm glad i was able to do that before my shows!

also, on a side note, i've seen some people being disappointed that alex didn't dedicate bodypaint to miles but just gave him a shoutout, but to me the distinction doesn't matter too much. he mentioned miles when he didn't have to, and miles stayed to watch the boys do their thing after his own set, and he didn't have to do that either if he wasn't feeling it. the fact is that recently there have been more and more signs that our boys are actually growing closer again than they seemingly have been for a few years, and while obviously i just want them to give us everything and announce a tlsp reunion and also profess their undying love for each other while they're at it, maybe their doing what they can right now, and they just need a bit more time to get to where they once were. we all need time to heal, or something like that, anyway. i obviously don't know anything, but this possiblity seems just as if not more likely to me than the other option (which would be that any of this is a sign they're growing further apart, instead), so i'm good with that for the moment.

anyway, this is just me talking to myself on the plane and creating some perspective for myself, but maybe someone else might find it helpful too, who knows. in any case, i'm going to do my best to enjoy it all to the fullest!! and while obviously getting to see them do something together would be brilliant, it would just be the cherry on an otherwise already really fucking delicious cake ❤️

[noirvette]

WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[SEVENTEEN]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

cw: talk about depression but no in depth detail.

Heidi sighed, nervous. Nichole had asked her to meet up and she had no clue about what. Well, she had an inkling but she hoped it wasn't about the podcast episode that went up yesterday.

She was surprised to hear of Cartman hosting ANOTHER podcast episode today. Normally they only did one episode a week, sometimes two if it was a particular exciting week but even so that had at least a few days in between.

"Heidi."

Heidi looks up and sees Nichole, "Oh! Nichole hey!"

"Cut that shit out, did you know?" Nichole asks and crosses her arms.

A look of shock runs over Heidi's face briefly, "Wh? What are you talking about?" Heidi stutters.

"Y/n. And Kenny? Hello? The podcast last night? Did. You. Fucking. Know?" Nichole grits out.

"No! NO! Oh my god I swear I had NO clue whatsoever!" Heidi exclaims, "I wouldn't EVER have participated in that podcast if I knew what Cartman was planning, I swear!"

Nichole stares down at Heidi with a hard stare, "Heidi. Be straight with me here."

"I am! I am! Nichole oh my god please believe me." Heidi pleads.

Nichole clicks her tongue, "You do the logistics behind that podcast Heidi. Sorry I'm a bit apprehensive to believe you, there's no way Cartman orchestrated that entire episode ON his own."

"Okay.. okay look, I don't know how Cartman had this whole thing planned, I didn't even expect Red to show up at the stupid podcast either and share her piece. If I had known ANYTHING I would've shut that down so quickly, Nicky you have to believe me." Heidi speaks quickly, voice softening a bit at the end, cracking.

Nichole sighs and sits besides Heidi, "Then how did Cartman of all people, get this information.. and HOW did he do this."

Heidi racks her brain, "There..there was a mystery caller, uhhh.. a while ago, said they had some world shattering news or something stupid like that to Cartman. Asked if... if uhh.. if friends or fame was more important? As like, like a test of sorts," Heidi plays with her hands unsure of how to continue, "Do.. do you think whoever that was.. may have had the information?"

"Well.. we could assume that caller was Red?"

Heidi ponders that for a second, "The caller sounded male.. I mean there was a voice changer on it but it didn't sound like Red on a voice changer.."

"So there's someone else out there that KNEW Red and Kenny had a thing going on..but why tell Cartman? Why not gather the evidence and go straight to Y/n?" Nichole wondered aloud.

Heidi shrugs, "I wish I knew.. listen if I knew that Cartman had that information I would've started unplugging everything. I literally walked into the studio and Cartman was already hosting the episode and there sat Red.. and before I knew it, Cartman and Red were already talking about Kenny."

"I saw the podcast episode, I thought it was somewhat scripted that you were coming in shocked, listen I'm sorry.. Y/n is in a state of despair and I just.. I know coming to you accusatory wasn't right of me but.." Nichole sighs, "I want to figure out who is trying to hurt Y/n and for a second there I thought maybe you were the one or at least knew more information.. I'm sorry for the doubt Heidi."

"It's okay Nichole! I'd be the same way, I've been trying to figure out who the caller was but Cartman won't let up with the information."

Heidi pauses, "Oh my god! He's going live right now!"

"He's.. what." Nichole slowly raises her head to look at Heidi.

"Yes! He's got an episode planned right now! A live one? I think. I told him I was busy today and couldn't attend and he just waved me off and let me go."

"Can you guys BELIEVE, Reify? Canceling the rest of their state tours! Have you guys even gotten your money back?" Cartman asks the group in his chat.

Cartman loves this section of his live podcasts, the part of it where he turns to fans to ask them questions. People asking him HIS thoughts on matters and in turn him asking questions (and only choosing answers that fulfill his hateful agenda) has always validated his need for fame, for status.

"Oh thank you mm_panles for your answer; you say you HAVEN'T gotten your money back?" Cartman hums, "Well that's a shame! Seems like Reify are a bunch of greedy money hungry bastards huh? Well.. I'm certain we can see why."

Cartman continues reading the chat of the current, ignoring any comments that allude to how Reify has returned the money for those who are returning tickets.

"Yo, chat look at the user connor_conned, look at what he said haha, fuckin loser." Cartman snickers, munching on a small bag of popcorn as he continues reading.

"Right well," Cartman clears his throat, "Reify certainly has let down a lot of people. Speaking of letting down people, let's all give a shoutout to Kenny McCormick for possibly being the BIGGEST let down of the centuryyyyyy, bro does not know how to keep a woman."

Cartman munches on popcorn before continuing, "Speaking of, you gotta hand it to him, he managed to get not only Y/n L/n, a BASSIST for a band, albeit it being Reify, but also Red McArthur, a MODEL, everyone give him a round of applause real quick."

Cartman stifled a laugh as the chat split in two; people actually giving applause emojis and people going "bro that wasn't funny".

Rolling his eyes at those who claimed he wasn't being funny he sighed, "If you guys are gonna be lame this time you're free to leave. No one wants you hear anyway, chat boo the ones being lame as hell right now."

Cartman's phone started ringing, "Oh jesus christ, sorry everyone call ale.." Cartman trails off, before chuckling, "You guys are never going to believe who this is.." and the chat goes insane trying to guess who the caller is.

Cartman pauses for dramatic affect before continuing, "Stanley fucking Marsh."

Stan and Clyde couldn't help but sit in silence trying to figure out the mess that is going on. The friend group was in rough shambles, with many people blocking Kenny, Stan not being one of them, not that anyone but Kenny probably knew that.

"Dude.. has Y/n said anything to you? Anything at all?" Clyde asks.

Stan shakes his head, "No bro, nothing. Kyle and Nichole both said their attempts haven't worked. I just.." Stan sighs.

Stan is in a state of complete chaos. He has no clue how you're feeling right now, you've gone through so much in the past few weeks.. too much for one person to handle. Stan had no clue how he'd react if all of this happened to him like how it has for you.

Stan thinks back to the stalker, in all honesty it'd been on his mind ever since it happened and he's been slowly trying to figure out who the stalker could be in his mind... and with the bulletin board in his room.

He knows for sure it couldn't be Kyle, Clyde, Nichole, Bebe, or Wendy. He knows for sure it's not Kenny anymore nor would it be Red considering recent events. He knows Craig and Tweek are out of the picture for that, considering they had no reason too stalk you NOR would they ever, plus their alibi was tight.

Everyone else was up for debate..but Stan was so tired of the mess, of the drama that he hasn't given the stalker much of a thought.

"..ude? Yo! Stanley Marshhhhh." Clyde drawls on.

Stan perks up, "Hu..? Oh Clyde sorry man what's up?" He scratches his neck awkwardly.

"Nice dream huh?" Clyde jokes, "Listen to this shit, Cartman's going live."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me.. let me see that." Stan reaches over to grab Clyde's phone and checks the tweet, "Oh my god. That little bitch weasel."

Clyde takes his phone back and opens the link for the podcast and starts watching it. Stan moves himself closer to Clyde and they listen in on Cartman's ramblings as he talks about the disappoint that Reify is for their actions of canceling the rest of the tours.

Clyde scoffs, "Classic Cartman... bank on everyone's misfortune. Like always."

Stan feels anger bubbling underneath his skin. How dare he. How fucking dare he. This was all Cartman's fault.. well Kenny's for cheating in the first place but Cartman's out here airing everyone's dirty laundry like he doesn't have a mountain of horrendous shit underneath him.

How dare he drag Reify through the mud? Stan's pride and joy? This band is his family and Cartman just comes through knocking down everything Stan has done to help build Reify? Everything Kyle has done? Clyde? Nichole? Y/n?

Y/n...

Stan feels his anger dissipate, he can hear Clyde continuing to rant about how awful Cartman is but his mind is on you again. What if you saw this? How would you feel? None of this was your fault but he was sure you had heavy guilt that you're the reason for this.

He texts you quickly, another "Please tell me if you're doing okay, I'm here for you Y/n, I need to know you're doing okay." and sighs. There was no way you'd respond and he knew that. He just was hoping.

Unfortunately he lacked a key to go over to your house and a part of him assumed that if he went over there, there's no guarantee you'd let him in even. He knows the feeling too well of self wallowing pity, of being self deprecating, of depression.

He sighs and looks back up at Clyde, who is still on a rant about Cartman, Kenny now included and he can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for not blocking Kenny like everyone else.. but he can't bring himself to end years of a friendship.. not quite yet.

"Let's call Cartman." Stan pipes up.

Clyde looks at him confused, "The fuck? Why would we waste our energy on that bozo?"

Stan shrugs, "Cuz, I need to tell him how much of a bitch he is."

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @frogindisguise @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @ryenwritess @bonez4brainz @s0l4riss @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

[soobberries]

I want to hear your thoughts on something- ot5! voyeurism. Who do you think would be into it?

I cannot get this image out of my head: one member (bf? fwb? or maybe you're just a groupie(?)) sits behind you, his legs on top of yours to keep your legs wide open. He's got one arm around you to keep you pressed against him, while his free hand is busy stretching you out with his fingers as his four bandmates are stroking their cocks, focused on watching the way your cunt is slick, dripping with your arousal with lust-filled eyes.

One of them will prob whip out his phone and start filming to send it in the gc & rewatch later because they don't want to forget the pretty noises you make, both from your core and your lips, as well as how hot you look with a fucked out expression.

Ofc leads to a very messy sixsome. 👍

LMFAO I am soooo sorry abt the way I wrote this, I am very clearly not a smut writer, but I needed to get this out because my brain is having a meltdown 🥴🫠 accept my sincerest apologies 🤲

POHEW. Not a messy sixome >insert that thirsty emoji since I'm on my laptop and lazy to pull it out<

Please don't apologise for how you wrote this! I'm no true smut write myself so I can't say I'd do a better or worse job hehe~! Either way I'm just excited to share these ideas of course!

Hmm now let me think... I feel as though many of us are to an extent, voyeurs... I mean if you have to just think in simple terms of the consumption of porn and such. Plus if we want to give some level of validation to your scenario, we'd have to assume that they are all voyeurs, so let me discuss the scenario seperately to the general question of who I'd think is into it.

I also mentioned in a different ask that in theory someone can be really into something but in practice, not really. While I won't go into specifics like that other post, realistically, only one of them would be okay with true voyeurism...and i also don't know who it would be... Anyway being too realistic is boring so in a general sense, who's super into it?

I'd say resident weebs Soobin and Huening! Beomgyu closely after. The other two seem more possessive and while they'd be into watching you play with yourself, they don't seem to be into watching someone else play with you, get what I mean?

Now moving on, lets assign who's who in your lovely scenario hehe.

Idk my mind is so set on the person with their fingers being inside you being Taehyun lmao. We all know Taehyun is lowkey beefy so having his muscular arms and legs hold you down? sounds hot. Beomgyu is recording... It could be Kai but I just feel he'd be too focused on watching Taehyun's fingers slipping inside of you, mesmerised by how it seems to disappear so effortlessly, thinking about what it must feel like to have his own fingers inside.

I can't work out the logistics but I'd say it would make most sense to be fwb with Taehyun, and he openly shares your sexual escapades with the other members. And lets say you're friends with all of them to some extent or at least acquainted somehow... You at least have disgustingly obvious sexual tension with two of them (I'm betting on Kai and Beomgyu. Those two are just... intense.) Then of course after hearing about your sexual encounters on the occasion from Taehyun, as well as actually hearing you in the literal sense when Taehyun is fucking the living daylights outta you, the other two can't help but let their minds wonder on occasion. Perhaps one had a lewd dream about and the other secretly masturbated to your sounds one frustrating night lmao.

Either way Taehyun is definitely a little shit, enough to the extent that he'd bask in taunting the other members as well as you by playing with you in front of them.

It's easy to picture him dragging lets say Kai and Soobin (them being the most likely to take part in something like this without their pride getting in the way like Gyu and Yeonjun) to watch you since they were ever so curious. He'd ask you about the ordeal before, and ignoring the awkward glances and scoffs exchanged between you, Kai, and Soobin, unsure about what to do when actually faced with the situation, he'd order you to strip down and get on his lap.

Plus Taehyun manspread>>> ahem, anyway.

Once your situated on his lap, he pulls your legs apart, not really considering how embarrassing the whole thing would be for you, sticking his knees behind yours to secure the position, using his arms to pull you close to his chest, his lips trailing gentle kisses against your neck as he reaches down to rub circles on your clit.

Even if you were embarrassed, with the position and the way it feels to have him touch you, as well as the dazed stares of the other two, you'd be far too gone to really focus in on that feeling.

The other two, both with puzzled expressions, zoning in on your clit initially trying to get a grasp of everything, simultaneously being impressed by how well Taehyun knows your body as well as trying to explain why their pants suddenly feel so fucking tight. Taehyung would tighten one arm around your waist, leaving soft bites on your neck, and whispering all sorts of things to you "Are you extra wet because the others are watching?" "Feels like you're extra sensitive to my touch with an audience. He'd focus on you a lot more than the guys but he won't rule them out in that situation.

He'd probably call out their bulges and call them idiots if they don't plan to take this opportunity to touch themselves. Anyway I'm sure Kai is the first to pull his dick out, absolutely dazed by everything.

Then after some toying, Taehyun gets a second finger in no time,, starting to hit you're favourite spots, causing you to arch into him. Obviously hearing the ruckus the other two would get curious and even if they're taken aback by the site before them: Soobin and Kai touching themselves at the site of you crumbling against Taehyun's fingers, they'd simply lose sense of logic sooner or later, standing by the doorframe feeling themselves get turned on too.

Beomgyu, being first to pop out his camera, Yeonjun being the first to approach you directly kneeling down in front of you, ready to probably eat you out or at least ask Taehyun if he can put his fingers inside you, eager to see if he could also get you to make those same sounds you were just making.

Yeonjun's fingers and mouth busy themselves against you while Taehyun pulls you closer to him while he sucks on your neck and ruts his hips into your back, Beomgyu filming from the doorway as he rubs his bulge with his free hand. Once Soobin sees Yeonjun joining, he wills himself to move forward and attach his lips to your nipple and use his other hand to play with the other. Kai is the only one that remains dazed at the site, happily being satisfied without touching you for now.

I mean your senses at this point... how much will you truly process when there's already three men al up against you, making it their mission to just make you feel good.

it's putting a different meaning to tomorrow x together for sure...

Idk when it happens exactly but once you cum once, Taehyun for sure tells you to move so he can get rid of his pants, and when you stand this is the opportunity that Kai takes to simply come make out with you, maybe he'd take your hand and place it on his dick, hoping you'd help him. Yeonjun is experimenting with you still, basking in the way you squeeze around his fingers, and Soobin is in boob heaven so they're staying busy. Taehyun wouldn't hesitate to pull you back into his lap, shooing Yeonjun away so that he can fuck you like he wants to. Yeonjun doesn't even care much though, he's so fixated on your expressions instead, he may go help Beomgyu out if he's feeling fruity though idk... Beomgyu has been filming but he has to put the phone down at some point to focus purely on getting himself off... Then again when he sees what you look like with Taehyun's cock inside of you, he suddenly has this urge to also want to be inside of you...

Eh... I'm sure they figure out some way to take turns... He may opt to just shove his cock in your mouth though if the position allows for it.

Well as for the rest... I may have to consider actually becoming a smut writer and write the whole thing out hehe!

Thanks for sharing your lovely insights~!^^

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Oh I wasn't disagreeing with you, but other person, who did send you an ask and disagreeing on part where they said that weather and logistics were not Swift's fault, when she clearly could have made different choices around these issues. The quote that I put in was from their ask, not your answer. And yes, you're right, Swift absolutely prioritizes USA way over anywhere else, especially over Southern Hemisphere, I mean so many Desi Swifties, but concerts only in Singapore, because they have paid more for basically blocking other Southeast Asian countries and she's completly fine with that?

Oh I see I see, I misunderstood, I thought you were talking about the weather.

I totally agree with the logistic being the fault of Taylor Swift- she is the face of her tour company. She is the one who calls the shots- She is the one with twenty years' worth of experience as a touring musician behind her. I don't believe for a second that she "just didn't know what could happen." Please. I don't believe for a second that she is under the control of some management or something. Certainly, she is also beholden to the rules of the venue itself- but that doesn't negate or dimmish her own responsibility to protecting the safety of those who buy tickets to her stupid concerts.

If it's 138 degrees outside- It's too damn hot to invite 60,000 people to listen to you sing for 3+ hours inside, what is essentially, a giant metal dome.

Also- yes! It's so weird that she mentions wanting "move to India forever" yet never would actually tour in India.

She only goes to Singapore for the money.

Also, the way Swift ignored Brazilian Swifties literally dying in front of her- yet is constantly checking in with the crowds in the UK is alarming me.

Suddenly she cares about the safety of her concertgoers? Not in Brazil- just in the UK

Something- real concerning about that.

Her US-centric attitude aside- for a moment- but why the fuck does she ask people if they need water only in Scotland where its SIGNIFICANTLY colder than in Brazil?

Just something fishy about that.

[aprillikesthings]

I have the house to myself because people are at a sportsball party

So what else would I do but keep watching spop amiright

s1 ep8 lez go

YES IT'S PRINCESS PROM AHAHAHAH

Oh, that explains why (in a muuuuuuch later episode) there's that little ideal future and they're at Scorpia's ball (iirc)

Catra: I NEED TO BE IN CHARGE Scorpia: party!

Poor Scorpia

Catra: giving a passionate-if-faked pep talk to Scorpia (like I get she's manipulating Scorpia here into going to the party, but it's still the kind of thing Scorpia should hear!) Also Catra: still real mad about Adora!!!

I cackled, y'all. CACKLED.

I mean she's...not wrong...

Okay I know it's just how this kind of show works and isn't important but it implies the Ball is known about for years in advance, but the invites only actually go out like a day or two before?? IRL that would be such a disaster because they don't even know the theme until they get the invite. The sheer amount of logistics/planning attending something like this, including the outfits...

This was intended to be Lolita fashion and you can't convince me otherwise

Also CATRA. They intentionally made her look so, so gay and hot.

Same, Catra. Same.

Adora (to the weapons-check person): be careful with it, don't lean it on something with the other swords or it might get confused!!!

Poor Adora. I suppose if I had an object that made me both popular and nearly invincible I'd be upset and worried to be separated from it, too.

It's Molly and Nate!!!

🎶Just like the viiiiine🎵

I love that we know these characters enough that they can just say a couple of lines here and imply a ton more. Anyway Mermista's outfit is great.

This is literally their entire dynamic. They're clearly together, Sea Hawk is loud about it, Mermista is (mostly) pretending to hate it.

Sorry this is shot is just great

Glimmer's jealousy (over Bow coming to the ball with Perfuma) is SO ANNOYING and I know that's on purpose but boy do I hate most "jealousy makes them obnoxious" plots

ANYWAY one small note: you can tell their budget for this episode is just not very high, because the characters in the background are so often not moving or only moving like one thing.

Oh hey, Netossa and Spinerella! (...and Molly again lol)

"Bow isn't the type to just leave his old friends behind, and neither am--" *Scorpia and Catra walk in*

DIDN'T THINK YOU'D SEE HER HERE, HUH, DIDJA

I can't screenshot this bit but it's so good:

Catra, in her most fake-gentleman voice: I love rules and obey them all the time Adora in the most high-pitched voice possible: YOU DO NOOOOT

🎶Every move you make And every vow you break Every smile you fake Every claim you stake I'll be watching you🎵

...I'm showing my age again. But also I'm looking at the lyrics and ngl they nearly all fit. If I knew how to make fanvids, I could make a vid that like ten people would watch.

Instead I'm working on a fic like ten people will read, heyoooo

*cries*

BACK TO THE GAYS PRINCESS PROM

is there crack-y pwp of this please say yes

Once again reminded of that fanvid of every time they say each other's names in the first two seasons

Literally cannot see Adora opening that without the "bah-dm tsh!" sound affect in my head from watching that video so many fucking times

Bow is so delightfully emotionally intelligent

Entrapta: have you met my new assistant? She brought snacks.

When Entrapta said "assistant" Catra's ears literally did a wiggle. Oh my gooooood

"she stole my food and asked me to spy on people with her,

lolol

once again whether the sword is actually sharp-edged or not is entirely dependent on plot

Scorpia is unreasonably hot sometimes

im gonna chew my fingers off ghgha;lksdhka;

I remember the screenshots/gifs of this scene hitting tumblr--that moment when every hopeful sapphic fan watching the show when it released went OKAY WAIT we're not making shit up this time are we??? ARE WE???

Also at least one person working on this show likes period dramas where tons of emotional plot happens during extremely formal dances where everyone is barely touching

there's nearly a billion gifs of that scene from one of the versions of Pride and Prejudice, but also:

once again proving my advanced age, this movie came out when I was 17 and side note I'm the same age as Claire Danes, anyhoodle

Has Adora been dancing Lead this whole time

HNNNNGNGHGHGHHHHHH IT'S SO GOOD

EXTREMELY UNDIGNIFIED NOISES Adora literally has one thigh between Catra's gghngng

i want to EAT IT

I'VE HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT FOR THIS POST LOLOL i don't wanna cut any out imma post this and then reblog it

[tavyliasin]

The Scent of Cinnamon 1 - Cactus Redactus Version

This is a bit of a fun idea as well as a challenge - rewriting the Scent of Cinnamon (Raphael x Haarlep Prequel) into a mostly SFW piece for someone who was interested by the story but not comfortable with the sexy bits~ (Cactus is how we often refer to this wonderful individual, hence "Cactus Redactus") So we are trading sex for food and cuddles in mixed metaphors that might not always make sense, and some rather large chunks of redacted material. I'll make all changed words and lines green in colour and use [redacted] to show where lines have been fully censored. I've been working this in a google doc for them to read by highlighting redacted segments with the same colour as the text to hide it like censorship bars which I sadly can't do here! Anyway, please enjoy the retelling of this fic, which you can find here:

I'll make a masterlist for this silly edit version once I've transferred them all over here (I don't have the energy to do more than one tonight, sorry!) FULL CH1 below the cut!

Chapter 1 - The Cambion, The Gift, and The Contract

Fine leather boots paced across stone floors, the click of heels echoing around the halls of the largely empty mansion that floated through Avernus. It was a start. A place of his own, somewhere to work with his own contracts and plans. The owner of the boots was a cambion, son of Mephistopheles, and already a powerful fiend in his own right. Raphael, if you were to ask a mortal, looked like a human in his mid 20s. Chestnut hair was swept back neatly from his brow, the ends curling a little just below his shoulders. His brown eyes were deep set but sparkled with ideas, face clean shaven and expression darkening by the moment. Had he taken his other form, huge red wings would stretch above him, a long tail slapping the floor in irritation behind him, and soft brown eyes would instead blaze with hellfire. His whole form would be larger, and his skin would be a deep crimson, ridges across his well defined muscles more reminiscent of his demonic heritage than the human half. However, it was often easier to remain in the guise of a human man. Aside from not having to deal with the physical logistics of wings, horns, and a tail, potential clients found him to be more trustworthy, and the reveal of his demonic guise was often another powerful tool of intimidation and persuasion. Occasionally, some found him to be seductive, but he tired of trying to please people he had no interest in. There were no fiends in all the hells he could trust to be intimate with, and mortals were so terribly boring, weak, and short-lived. No, they were far better as tools, pawns in his grander designs, so naked cuddling was a last resort to seal a particularly irritating deal.

This might have been seen as unusual in the hells, for any fiend to have no attraction or desire to act upon their need for cuddles, but Raphael did not care. He could hug himself should the need arise, and it was safer not to let anyone in to his abode. Not until he had built up his loyal following. 

Unfortunately, so far he only had a couple of apprenticed Warlocks, and one or two debtors scrubbing his floors. And now he had to greet a stranger. The letter had specified a “gift”. Knowing Mephistopheles, this would not be the kind of gift that came with a single catch, but more an entire shoal of red herrings to sift through to find which specific catch he needed to be concerned about.

—

A young fiend stood before a glimmering doorway, uncertain of when precisely they were meant to cross the threshold. They were dressed in a black silk outfit that gave them an appearance of masculine androgyny. Dark tan skin and bright green eyes might have looked human, if it weren’t for the 4 short horns protruding from their brow, slightly parting black hair that cascaded down their back and over their shoulders almost blending with the silks they wore. The other tells of their demonic nature were more obvious, however. Huge wings with blackened edges, claws at the tip, coloured in sunset hues of red and gold stretched out behind them, quivering with nervous anticipation. A long tail with an arrow-tip end pawed at the ground behind them, kicking up a little infernal ash. All they carried was the clothing they wore and the instructions they had been given. A simple enough task, and they were hardly inexperienced, but their first meetings were usually within a dream. Subtly watching their target, learning their desires and their fears, finding every cheeky secret they hid in their subconscious before they would ever appear before them physically.

They sighed. They didn’t even have a name to bring with them. Whatever it was had been taken, a simple exchange for a promised reward. “Let him name you,” the instructions had been clear, “let him do as he wishes. Get close, learn all you can, and deliver it back to me. You are no fool, incubus, and neither is he. But play the game well, and you will have the life of your dreams in the end. A home all of your own, whatever meals you desire delivered to your door, complete power over the domain I shall grant you.” It was tempting. It would be tempting to any incubus or succubus. They also couldn’t deny a small amount of pride at having been chosen. It sounded like the advances of succubi had already been rejected, so they relished the thought of a challenge. Besides, the son of Mephistopheles was hardly without any power of his own. They took a deep breath, steeling their nerves before they stepped through the portal.  —

Raphael sat back on his chair, tilting it so the front legs were no longer on the floor, boots on the edge of his desk as he read through pages of another contract. Etiquette might demand he stand to greet the arrival, due any moment now, but Raphael was not one to heed any demands but his own. He didn’t look up when the familiar electricity of the magic swirled in the air, nor did he pay attention to the polite cough from the guest. “You’re late.” He lied, thumbing through the pages and moving one to the front, still not looking up from the paper. “And you’re human.” The visitor stated, all too bluntly for Raphael’s liking. “I was told to expect a cambion, Raphael. Does the master of the house not see fit to handle his own household?” The cambion bristled. His brow darkened a little, though only one watching very closely would notice the subtle change. “You would do well to remember at least a modicum of respect when addressing your new master, regardless what form he might appear in. Are all gifts supposed to be so rude when accepting hospitality?”

“Hah! What hospitality? There’s barely a thing here, and I am barefoot upon your floor. Gift, indeed, that you do not even look upon me let alone deign to unwrap me.” They were becoming no more humble. If anything, they were becoming more bold by the moment. The attitude was finally reaching Raphael’s limit. He looked up from the papers to see who would have the audacity to address him so. For a moment, his thumb slipped, one of the pages almost dropping from the stack as he took in the tall and slender form of the nameless incubus. He quickly regained his composure, but not before they had noticed. The cambion put his feet on the floor and straightened up the papers, putting them in a neat stack on the table. He stood, walking towards the invited invader in his home, stalking around them to observe and assess them. “I’m not a piece of meat, Raphael.” They stood still nonetheless, allowing him to pace and take in all of their form. They flexed their wings and tail to put on more of a show. “Do you like what you see?~”

“Passable.” The cambion grunted, the highest praise he had given any attempt yet. “And good you finally recognise your master’s name. So, why are you here?” “You know that much. Your dear father sent me. You are well aware that many of your kind take ours as advisors, partners in cuddles, or allies for whatever purposes you might have for our abilities. ” The incubus grinned, the hint of slightly sharpened teeth glinting in the light as they looked down on the smaller human form of their supposed master. “You’re a spy.” Raphael said simply. “Obviously.” They replied, pleased that they were not being expected to work for a complete fool. “Do you wish to refuse me? Send me back?” “Honesty is a commodity that few of your kind trade in. You may stay. However, ground rules must be set.” He turned to walk away, beckoning for them to follow. “Come.”

“Leaving already?” The incubus laughed. “I thought we would talk more than that, Raphael.” The cambion bristled at his name being used so casually, but remembered a key point. “Name. What is it?” “I don’t have one, not until you choose one for me. Spiteful of your father to take my identity, but at least I kept my good looks.” The incubus brushed off the lingering insult of what they’d had to trade for the opportunity. It would be worth it, eventually. “Then I should know you first, incubus. I shall choose a name befitting your station.” He continued to lead the way through the halls, keeping a few steps ahead of the honest spy who was taking note of every crack in the walls.  

— The incubus watched Raphael carefully. Every movement, every time his gait shifted to avoid stepping on a looser stone. Their bare feet felt uncomfortable on the floor, but it mattered little. They noticed the silence in the halls, only one terrified half elf dressed in rags scurried away as they passed by, busying themselves cleaning some furniture in a side room. There was a lingering scent of cherry that drifted from the cambion ahead, though that was the only note of perfume they detected. Somehow, something so simple hardly seemed fitting. The door to the bedchamber was large, heavy, and sealed with a magical lock. A simple spell had it opening before the master of the house, who gestured for them to enter. “There, take a seat.” He indicated a pair of chairs near the balcony on the far side of a huge four poster bed, heavy red velvet drapes skirting the floor, a deep contrast against ebony silk sheets. They ignored the suggestion of the chairs entirely, and instead took a seat on the edge of the bed, their tail snaking out behind them to smooth over the sheets. “Not bad, I’ve slept on softer.” “That is not for your benefit.” Raphael stood a little taller, crossing his arms and glaring invisible flames towards defiant green eyes. 

“Then for yours? You are aware of my nature as an incubus, if you are to indulge in my many hugs, I am not one to cuddle.” They watched his reaction, wings folding carefully inwards to soften the challenge of the statement. “We shall see. I have yet to decide on that matter.” The incubus smirked at that reply, it was not a no. Raphael continued regardless. “What are your abilities ?” “Aside from near infinite warm hugs? I can take the form of any who have made a contract with me.” They shifted now with a spell, appearing first as an elven woman with flowing ginger hair and freckles across her cheeks. The next moment the magical fire enveloped them they became a dwarven man with a long braided beard and dark eyes below a heavy set brow. The third form they took was a dragonborn with sparkling iridescent scales. “This one was a particular favourite, a beautiful rarity. So I may become anyone you wish me to be, so long as I have hugged them.”

“Any form? Including another fiend?” Raphael arched an eyebrow, fingertip tapping against his jaw as he considered the options. “Another devil taken your fancy?” The incubus laughed, remaining in the guise of the dragonborn for now. “Of my many forms I have not added a fiend, yet …but were I to take yours, there would be some benefits.” “Benefits? It seems more like a remarkably unpleasant experience from start to finish.” Despite his words, he appeared to be waiting to hear more. “Any time I take on the body of someone I have hugged,” they ran a claw down their chest, hand drifting across their arms momentarily, “they feel it when their form is used. Echoes of snuggling even across planes, though more intense the closer they are. If they were in the room right now, they would feel the sensation of their own hand on their body.”

“So, enhanced hugs, and a disguise?” Raphael took a longer moment to consider it. “I can see a use for this, incubus.” “Wait, you actually wish to deal with me yourself?” Their bravado finally slipped away in surprise, transforming back to their original body. “You would give me access to your form, control over your platonic intimacy?”

“Must you be so vulgar about it? This could work to our advantage. Depending…” Raphael stepped forwards. “Tell me, spy, what were you offered?” “Simple. My own domain, power over it, and whatever delicious dinners I wish to devour.” They held his gaze, even as he blocked the light behind him. “I enjoy cuddling as much as I am sustained by it as my meal. I have known hunger, Raphael, and I have known powerlessness. I have no desire to become intimate with either again.” “So you want power, snuggles, and a range of flavours to sample? That is as cheap as you are to trade your identity, your entire being, devoting centuries to espionage for such pittance?” He was treading a line in his voice between anger and disappointment. The incubus’s tail began to flick with annoyance.

“There was hardly anything to trade. What’s in a name, anyway? And a few centuries in the span of immortality, that’s nothing . An easy job, made all the simpler by the particular subject. You don’t even object to my presence or motivations… What do you desire, Raphael?” They prodded back with their question, working out how the pieces would fit together.“Perhaps not so different, incubus. Power would be a simplification, but an accurate one. First I will expand my influence here, then across the rest of Avernus.” He raised his hand, infernal fire wrapping around him in an instant, transforming him into his more devilish physique. His horns curved above him, crowning his chestnut hair, wings spreading like a wide and regal cloak behind him in the same deep red as his skin. He had grown taller, marginally more muscular, and his own tail swished behind him. Fiery eyes regarded his guest with a new intensity. “Quite simply, I shall become an Archduke. The Archduke. The nine hells are full of infighting and imbeciles, one hand should have a tight grip upon them all. And that hand will be mine.”

The incubus watched the display with interest, contemplating their options. “You’re very sure of yourself, perhaps I should call you Archduke already if that is your goal. Consider it forward payment, if you are to rise to such lofty heights. Are you certain you should be telling your father’s spy all of your plans?”

“That man would be far more than ignorant to not believe that this is my exact aim. I would imagine he would be thoroughly disappointed if his progeny lacked any ambition. You’re welcome to report that back to him if you so wish, but it has as much merit as telling him that rain makes things wet.” Raphael considered the rest of the statement, clawed finger rubbing along the line of his jaw. “As for the title… No. Not until I have what I want. Although names have power in themselves, and we do not yet have one for you.” “Whatever identity I had is gone, all that remains is my body, and even that is more changeable than the weather in the material realm. So call me whatever you like, Archduke , it matters little.” They smirked at seeing him bristle at the nickname, the implied insult. “Then you are willing to consider my deal? There are plenty of… benefits to a cuddle with me~”

“You have been ill-informed to believe me easy to hug. I will not lay with any harlot to stroll into my arms.” It was the incubus’s turn to darken their expression, voice gaining the edge of a growl. “Oh I am well aware of your type, Archduke . Aren’t you tired of primming and posing? Of all this air of I’m so much better than you, listen to me, do this, do that, puny lesser beings .” They stood, rising to their full height, standing just a little taller than Raphael even though he had transformed. The tips of the cambion’s horns were higher, but their eyes were above his. The realisation widened their sinister smile. “You do not need to be above everyone all the time, that is why you didn’t turn me away when I told you I will not snuggle beneath you.”

“You think yourself more powerful, do you? Need I remind you that I am the Master of this house, I own you, incubus, you are a gift in a pretty bow.” He stood firm, unswayed as they moved closer, the strong scent of cinnamon drifting from their warm-toned skin. “You feel nothing, even now?” Their bright green eyes glowed more intensely in the face of Raphael’s insults, paying his venom no mind. Their tail began to touch his lower arm as they stepped even closer, faces just inches away. “You do not, do you…but you feel that .” —

Raphael certainly felt something. Irritation, the searing tip of white hot rage pressing forward like a knife at the front of his mind, and…curiosity. How could he not be curious about a fiend who dared to be so brazen with him? To stand before him without bowing even once, never offering a single thing to gain his favour. They were speaking to him as an equal - that should have been an immense insult, and yet… “You should have more care about where you touch, harlot. ” The offensive nickname slipped quickly from his lips, just as his tail slapped away the one that had been threatening to tug him off balance. “I have given you no such permission.” “Then if you gave me permission, you would allow it? Very interesting, Archduke . Let me ask you this, if I may?” They kept from touching him again, for now, instead observing his features closer with a piercing gaze. “Ask. There is little point in asking to ask, aside from wasting my time.” He remained unmoved, tail betraying a hint of his irritation still. “Your clients, the mortals you deal with. They desire your affection, do they not? You are a handsome devil, in either of your forms. Your human guise perhaps more cuddly to some than your true fiendish self, but I see the appeal in both.” They smiled more sweetly, bringing a hand towards his face, never touching but tracing a line above his cheekbone, his jawline… A mockery of a lover’s caress.

“I am not here to be eye candy to you.” He sneered, faint lines in his face appearing with the expression. “Affection is merely another card in my deck, mortal beings are too easy to manipulate with hugs. Something I am sure a harlot would be more than aware of. You do not need me to point that out.” “Quite so,” they continued their touchless caress down his neck, along his shoulder, and close to the top edge of his wing. “But I would be more than willing to fill your pointy boots in that regard~”

“I see you do have at least a modicum of sense between your filthy ideas.” He summoned a scroll to his hand, a quill pen appearing in the other, tip glowing with infernal magic. “Rules, incubus, and they will be followed. Without fail. Or I will not hesitate to cast you out of here.” They sighed, hand dropping back to their side from where it had been hovering above the thinner and more sensitive skin of the cambion’s wings. “ Fine, if you insist we shall have it all in writing. You are to ensure I do not go hungry. Either provide me with pizzas to satisfy my hunger, or satisfy me with your own home cooking.”

“Agreed.” Lines appeared upon the page in infernal script, glowing on the parchment with the power they contained. “And you shall not lay so much as a finger upon a client without my permission.” “Then make it simple. This room will be mine as much as it is yours. Those you allow to cross the threshold are by rights my own to hug, should they agree to it.” They smirked, adding to the letters upon the page. “The house is your domain, but in this room I am the only Master.” Raphael’s ego failed to pick up on the edge of their tone as he easily agreed to the term, and moved on to the next. “Then the illusion must be maintained. Once you have my form, you are to wear it until or unless I specify otherwise.” This time the incubus wavered. “You are asking me to give up the last shred of my personhood, to become you?”

“No. You will retain your personality as you see fit. You are to be my mirror in appearance, I cannot have a stray client or debtor seeing through that. They must believe, at least to a degree, that it is me they are cuddling with, and not some brothel-hired -” He paused. His finger traced a few letters in the air, moving them around, reforming his own name into something new. “That’s it. Haarlep . A perfect anagram, the version of Raphael that is closer to the Harlot that you are.” “You scorn me even as you wish to use me to your own ends?” The incubus frowned, though the name…was not entirely objectionable.“The name should be a fitting match for the wearer, should it not? Or do you have a better idea?” He raised an eyebrow, staring directly into the incubus’ eyes.

“I suppose I can become accustomed to it, with time.” They looked at the page, filling with more rules as they talked.

— Some time later the full document was drawn up and signed, befitting Raphael’s side of the deal. Haarlep, as they had reluctantly accepted the name, would require the consummation to finalise things yet. Both cambion and incubus smirked, feeling as if they had outmanoeuvred the other, their own egos clouding their gaze from the space between the lines. Had they looked closer, they might have noticed the finer details they hid from each other between clever words and half-truths…but it mattered little. The signatures marked the parchment in clear and binding text. Haarlep, as they were now named, watched the scroll disappear to whatever archive it would be stored in with a wide smile. “And what is it precisely that you find so amusing?” Raphael’s voice drew their gaze back to his eyes. “Oh, nothing, Archduke.” They leaned just a little closer to his face. His appearance was by no means distasteful, if they were being honest they found his form to be intensely attractive, their imagination already cuddling him as they spoke. “Now, I want you to take a very good look at me. Memorise every pore in my skin, every hair on my head, every little details of me . If I am to give it up, to become you until such time as either we reach our common goal or Mephistopheles decides my work here is done, I would have at least one being remember me properly.”

“I can have a portrait made if you are so particular. And despite your glamour, you will have access to this form should it be permitted.” He pulled back by an almost imperceptible amount, small wrinkles forming on the bridge of his nose. “No.” The incubus spoke with a growing air of authority. “I will burn every part of my image into your mind and body. Every time you close your eyes you will see me, every moment of silence you will hear my true voice in your ear, every moment your own hands touch your body the grip you will feel upon your throat will be mine.” Raphael took an involuntary step back this time. The imposing figure of his supposed gift, the toy he was simply supposed to occupy the hours with, the being that was intended to be used for hugging alone…it felt as if their shadow was about to swallow him whole. Haarlep could see it in his eyes, the way the sweat began to bead on his brow, the breath catching in his throat as they leaned closer again.

They had him cornered like prey, a meal they fully intended to devour, the promise of what the contract could deliver almost as enticing as the low scent of fresh bread rising from the cambion’s kitchens. “You needn’t fear my touch, Raphael. I assure you, this can be a most pleasant experience. You feel it already, do you not? The anticipation rising within you, the warmth of my body moving closer, that sweet cinnamon filling your senses already…” They grinned wickedly. “[Redacted]” “That…would be acceptable.” The usually proud cambion struggled to find the words, his presence shrinking back with the hint of power in the words he had already signed away. “Then you accept my arms? You want to feel the hug of an incubus, to feel the pressure of my affection around your body?” Their wings fluttered in anticipation. “Stop talking already. Your master has granted you permission by the terms of the deal.” “Oh, Raphael, you have forgotten so quickly…in this room, I am the Master now.”

--- --- ENDING NOTES --- --- So anyone who hasn't read the original might be feeling a little perplexed right now, but it might be more fun to read the pieces parallel, or one after the other, to see what changed. The second chapter gets a whole lot more silly with huge redacted sections and a lot more changes that may or may not make sense~

Literally that's how much is redacted in the beginning of the second chapter! But the rest manages to keep enough of the tone, story, and interactions between the pair to still be relatively coherent as a piece~

Until the next part, and when all 4 current chapters are done I'll get the masterpost for links to them too~ Also if anyone knows a way either here or on AO3 to hide text like that, or to change text colours on AO3, please let me know and I'll get it up over there too~