#so. time to shift priorities unfortunately

[compacflt]

I am sad for your 'the end of the top gun era' that will come. Is there any possibility that even when you finish with all your ideas, someday you will still write icemav? Or are you done shipping icemav after everything is said?

i will never stop shipping or caring about icemav, they are my homeboys & my bffs

i just have other real world writing obligations i need to focus on once i post my extras (soon) 😞 have to start dedicating myself to my creative writing thesis & journalism work fully

Yeah if i have other ideas/motivation to finish old ideas i will definitely do that! It’s not goodbye forever

[howlonomy]

If part of your stress has been from doodles and asks, then first of all sorry for adding to that and second of all it might be a good idea to do the whole "close asks for a while" thing until you are no longer stressed. Mental health is very important and MUST be focused upon. Also congrats on 1K followers, I hope the creature found dead in Miami is revived and nursed back to full health

i thought about it but the rate of asks isnt that bad!! its just a matter of sitting down and sorting thru em, dw!! i have pretty good boundaries w myself regarding when/how long i do ask stuff, so its not stressing me out too much!! i just mostly feel bad making people wait LOL

the creature found dead in miami will get over it eventually…… just a matter of time :p

[toytulini]

I dont know why youve leapt to assuming this post was about the workplace? the original post mentioned friends, family, and going out for drinks, and it feels a bit like a bad faith read to assume this meant for you to try to talk about weird niche TV show interests to your boss, when it seems far more likely to be a post about not letting cringe culture rule your entire life, in a time when its so common for ppl to let themselves become beholden to tiktok microtrends, and being terrified that theyll lose all their friends if anyone finds out they enjoy steven universe.

It’s crazy and fucked up that being yourself is actually the solution.

[fumifooms]

People have speculated a lot about Chilchuck’s nightmare, my own reading’s changed a lot about it over time too. Anyone is afraid losing the people they love, but what does this say about this character’s specific fears, experiences and priorities? What’s implied to have went down exactly, here?

My own take about Chil’s nightmare is that at the center of it, what it represents is the fear that Chilchuck couldn’t protect them.

A big part of Chil’s character is his worrying for others, mainly for their safety, and taking responsibility for keeping them safe. He puts the weight on himself to make sure things go right and if they don’t he’ll worry about if he could have done anything differently. It’s also part of why he has this defense mechanism of giving up on interpersonal matters easily, because while it’s his duty to make sure his coworkers and daughters are safe for example, he thinks that when it comes to relationships and others that things are out of his hands and no matter what he says people won’t care. So he has to lie and trick his party members to go back to the surface, because surely they wouldn’t listen to his opinion or request to go back. So he’ll play chaperone to make sure no one says something incriminating. So all day he has to keep himself on his toes to hear and see the traps hidden away, has to keep himself starved to make sure he won’t trigger said traps, has the party’s lives on his shoulders and one moment of distraction could be the end.

This safety he worries about is both physical, fights and traps, and legal & socio-economical, laws, reputation and financial & job stability.

Here Chilchuck has blood on him, he seems to be looking at his hands. The corpses of his daughters are huddled laying around him but he’s not touching them. This has a sense of purposeful framing, they’re laying at his feet pointing up to him bloody and he has bloody hands, which is why people including myself have speculated that his nightmare could be about him murdering his family. Whatever happened, he blames himself, it’s his fault, is what the composition seems to evoke. But the intent of that sentiment shifts as effortlessly and easily as going from "he’s horrified at what he did" to "he’s horrified at what he didn’t do".

The axe in the wall, which some argue would be too heavy for a half-foot, then hints at something more like home invasion. Home invasion is a valid fear a lot of ethnic minorities and lower class people have had to face, wether it be because of overpolicing and law enforcement forces being dangerous and fickle, being the target of hate crimes or the general unfortunate environment and circumstances making their place of residence an unsafe spot. We don’t know why Chilchuck moved from his hometown to Kahka Brud, one of the bigger cities with half-foot populations reputed for its booming economy and job opportunities, but moving from a small town to a big city has its own pros and cons on that end as well. Chilchuck of course is very aware of the discrimination half-foots face, not only being dismissed and infantilized but also seen as expandable, as bait, little lives of little importance, and he’s deep into activism for half-foots especially with the union he leads. He strivess to protect his peers as well. He’s been scared for his life before, hiding and fleeing from humans, his party at the time. He’s had to hide and fear and flee humans before. The theory that he’s scared of specifically home invasion as a hate crime is very founded, on top of Chil being very worried about getting into trouble with the law in general and also again being implied to be/have lived in empoverished areas, just the whole bingo card of potential trauma to go off of.

He has blood splattered on his hands and cheek. Was he there when the rampage happened? Was he effortlessly pushed aside as his family was slaughtered, or did he stand aside frozen, unable to do anything in either scenario? If there’s another way to have gotten those blood splatters, it can also play on him being absent from his home. Maybe not unlike his wife, the fear of returning home to see things have been taken from you without even knowing or being able to do a thing. The fear of coming home and the place having been ransacked and everyone in it killed. Home, your haven, destroyed, your family, killed. It cannot be fixed, which in itself can be a nod to his tendency to be pessimistic and to think hoping for better is useless, like with being able to reach out and reconcile with his wife.

"The nightmares that the clam monsters give people tend to be specific, and based on deeply rooted emotional wounds, so I think it’s possible that Chilchuck isn’t just afraid of his home being attacked randomly, he is afraid of his daughters being targeted for their race and their gender specifically, perhaps because that is something that happens commonly to half-foots in the Dungeon Meshi world, and something Chilchuck feels powerless to protect them from." — @Room-Surprise , essay (source, go read it) It’s definitely in line with the lore. This whole thing reinforces how for example trusting his party with his daughter’s life, telling them to hire Meijack if he were to die, was a huge deal and testament of trust for Chilchuck.

So yes in my interpretation home invasion is especially relevant, but I still think the protection aspect is at the core of the scenario’s horror otherwise too, not having protected his family from himself if he was the one to kill them (which could be stretched to include the notion that his family’s closeness crumbled because of his attitude, or a manifestation of his low view of himself, maybe worried about his own alcoholism and anger issues) or having prevented whatever tragedy happened. The aftermath is what Kui chose to show after all, whatever happened the end result is the same and that’s what was deemed important. In the end it’s up to interpretation, whatever the intent was, but yes there’s much to be dug at here. It’s a bit like a chimera of all his biggest worries, fears and insecurities, all wrapped into one vision. If you want more discussion about it, there’s tons in the engagement of this post.

[lure-of-writing]

His little Sister: I'm sorry

Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none that I know of

Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.

Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal. 

Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.

Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary. 

Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room.  For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”

“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.” 

Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand. 

Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle. 

It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?”  And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe. 

Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night. 

If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him. 

He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session. 

Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own. 

As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta. 

The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand. 

Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him. 

Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training. 

Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him. 

“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again. 

“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest. 

But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!”  Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed. 

“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him. 

“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.” 

Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel. 

Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe. 

That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house.  Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down. 

“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.

“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’

“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”

The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.” 

Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he  got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.

Taglist

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel @mp-littlebit @mybestfriendmademe

@olive-main @mariahoedt @tele86 @marina468 @fangirlloza010 @kennedy-brooke

[kumkaniudaku]

Love Language

Summary: Terry and Patrice learn some tough lessons about love languages and communication.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: None

Despite carrying a hard exterior outside of their humble abode, Terrence Richmond was a lover above all else. 

If you asked his parents, they’d recall how affectionate he was as a boy and how he clung to his paternal grandmother for extra hugs and kisses when she was in town. Previous partners might be confused by any assertion that he was overly affectionate. Many hadn’t been fortunate enough to penetrate his tough-to-crack heart and experience the full extent of his tender side.

Patrice was a rarity. She’d been privy to his propensity for a lingering touch or a platonic cuddle since they were teens with raging hormones and secret feelings. But, now that they had grown older and much more romantically entangled, she’d found that what she thought was a ruse to induce sex was really his default setting.

He was born from love and carried every ounce of it in his body at all times. His desire to touch, feel, inhale, and embrace was always his priority. 

Keeping a hand on Patrice’s thigh while he scrolled through news headlines on his phone brought him peace. Rubbing her feet while they enjoyed a show on the couch at night was his favorite way to say I love you. Cuddling next to her before bed helped him communicate that he finally felt safe. Kisses came in abundance at no cost. Tight hugs were a no-brainer. He was her shadow. If given the option, he would gladly make a home inside her skin if it meant he’d never have to leave her side.

For the most part, she loved being showered with attention. But for a woman who was fiercely independent and easily over-stimulated, his constant displays of affection and need to be in her orbit at all times were immensely overwhelming. 

While he cozied up in the loving arms of the sandman, Patrice let the steady pelt of warm water against her back lull her into a fantasy of solitude in the park with a good book and a breeze tickling her nose. Soft light filtered through the small window above the primary bathroom’s shower, painting her deep dark skin with warm rays as she scrubbed away the previous night and prepared for a clean break.

If she were lucky, she could be halfway dressed by the time Terry’s alarm trilled in the next room to wake him for his weekend run. He’d be too caught off guard to stop her from leaving and her covert mission would be a success.

Unfortunately, he had an internal Patrice tracker that never allowed her to move more than 20 feet without his knowledge. She could hear the bed creak under his shifting weight on the other side of the door. His morning stretch came with a loud groan and the call of her name. 

“Treece, you up?” 

A vexed ‘duh’ came to her mind first but she shook the thought free. He didn’t deserve her attitude, even if he was the underlying cause. Instead, she called back with a simple, “Yeah. In the shower.” 

Patrice listened to Terry’s heavy feet beat against the floor on his journey to the bathroom. Her heart thumped wildly against her ribcage as he pushed open the door. His routine stop to pull back the curtain and make his presence known was inevitable, but she was struggling to muster excitement for his sweet smile and subsequent flurry of kisses. 

As expected, cool bathroom air mixed with the shower steam once a large hand pulled back her safe space’s partition and immediately reached to pull her as close as he could.

“Good morning,” he greeted between quick pecks on both cheeks before landing a few on her lips. “Why you up so early?” 

“I, uh, thought I started my period so I came to check.” 

A lie. She couldn’t explain that she needed a few uninterrupted minutes alone to feel like herself again or that she’d been doing so a lot more frequently than he’d noticed.

Terry mentally cycled through the day’s date and compared it to what he knew of her tracker. “It’s early. Is that from last night? If so, my bad.”

“Shit happens. Don’t worry about it too much. False alarm anyway.”  

“Mm, good to know. Gimme another kiss.” 

Terry’s words became a deep, sultry mumble against Patrice’s mouth as he lavished her with little monuments of his love. Most would see his display as a sure invitation to take their innocent encounter to another level. Terry wouldn’t be opposed, but he truly only meant to communicate how happy he was to be in his future wife’s presence. And, though he intended no harm, Patrice could feel her skin start to burn from too much attention.

The tickle of his growing facial hair against her jaw made her squirm to get out of his grasp.

“TJ, you’re making it cold in here,” she whined, attempting to push him away gently.

Terry chuckled. “I’m sorry, baby. You want me to get in?” 

“No, no, no, no.” Her repeated refusal made him pull back in confusion. A hint of sadness in his gaze made Patrice rush to correct herself. “I just need a moment alone. By myself. Please.”

She watched a host of emotions paint Terry’s face until he settled on feigned indifference and stepped back. She chewed her lip, nervously waiting for him to respond. 

“Oh. Okay, cool. I’ll um…I’ll give you some space then?”

“Thank you, honey. I’m almost done.”

“Mhm.”

Her attempt at sweetening her rejection with his favorite pet name proved unsuccessful as she watched him gather items to get ready in the guest bathroom. He was dejected and feeling the sting of her unrequited affection. 

Hurting him hurt Patrice even more, bringing forth the sting of fresh tears and a heavy heart. 

Fearing what might happen if she allowed his emotions to affect her own, she focused her attention on self-care and coaching herself through the bomb she’d eventually have to drop. 

Terry kept his word and remained out of sight while Patrice readied herself in their shared bedroom. When she stepped into the living room fully dressed and especially made up, eyed her from the kitchen with his brow lifted with a mix of admiration and subtle bewilderment. 

She put on her best kind smile and met him at the counter.

“Babe, Mrs. Wright next door was wondering if you could help her change the bulbs on her front and back porch. Today’s probably a good day, right,” she asked, attempting to sound as casual as possible.

“Uh, yeah. I guess I can get to it later.” He cocked his head to the side and quickly followed up. “Should I be skipping my run or what?” 

“Nope. Think I’m just gonna grab brunch and browse that cute little bookstore downtown. I’ll keep you posted.”

“You? Alone?” 

“Yep. All by myself.” Her Celine Dion impersonation did little to add levity to their back and forth. 

Terry stared at her blankly before dragging a hand down his face to reset. “Say, do we have a problem, baby? Did I do something to you?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Patrice, stop playin’ with me. You know what I mean. Why you actin’ like we just met or some shit?”

“I’m not!” 

“Let me kiss you then!” When she didn’t move to meet him halfway, he threw his hands up in exasperation. “See!”

Patrice took note of how his frustrated tone contrasted the sadness shifting his eyes to the grey-blue end of the spectrum. His lips were turned down into a bit of a pout as he looked down at her, awaiting an explanation for her sudden change of heart. 

She sighed and reached up to cup his face. “We’re good, Terry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“So, what’s up? Talk to me.”

He was pleading for any insight into her sudden distance, nearly willing to block the door until she opened up. Her will to persevere for her own sake was waning. She had to create some distance quickly before she found herself waiting for him to shower and shave in preparation for yet another weekend together.

“Can we talk when I get back home? It’ll only be a couple of hours. I’ll keep you updated, and send you my location. Whatever you need to feel secure. Cool?” 

Sensing that he was being ouster no matter what he did, Terry sucked his bottom lip into his mouth before relenting. 

“Alright,” he whispered as if he were coming to terms with grave news. “Okay. Do what you gotta do.” 

Never a man for drawn-out monologues or poetic language, Terry remained silent as he grabbed his wallet from the counter and handed over his credit card for Patrice to use at her leisure. 

“You don’t have to do that.” His eyes flickered up to hers for a silent but firm reprimand. He wasn’t budging and she wasn’t interested in widening the rift between them. 

Patrice accepted his unspoken financial protection and his very vocal reminder to answer when he called before venturing out into the world as one-half of a pair for the first time in months. 

Her re-acclimation to solitude was slow. At least twice during her flea market excursion, she found herself preparing to turn to Terry and point out a painting or cute trinket that she wanted to bring home. Usually, he’d listen to her go on and on about some random piece’s beauty and try to convince him why it deserved a spot on the bookshelf. And every time he’d look on with a loving grin and accept her pitch without contest. Now, all she had was the little voice in the back of her head saying that she deserved at least one treat for show and tell. 

An early lunch at her favorite cafe was easier to enjoy. She people-watched for way too long outside on the patio, admiring outfits, hairstyles, and cute dogs while she sipped warm cider and read the romance novel she hadn’t had time to dive into. Each word created such vivid imagery in her head and she was giddy at the thought of sharing info from chapters four and five with Terry for his opinion. 

At the mall, she pursued racks of clothes and shelves of shoes at an excruciatingly slow pace because she could. She tried on dresses and analyzed her feet in every pair of heels that tickled her fancy until she settled on something that expertly showed off the definition she’d gained in her thighs and quads. 

By the time Patrice noticed the sun beginning to settle behind the horizon, she was exhausted yet excited to get back home and share her adventures with her man. Her car could barely settle in park before she was bounding from the front seat, up the front steps, and into the living room with a bright smile deepening the dimples in her cheeks and Terry’s favorite dinner for them to enjoy together. 

He watched from the recliner as she nearly skipped into the room, sitting up a little straighter when she stopped in the middle of the room waiting for his attention. 

“I’m home!” 

“Welcome back.” 

Patrice’s smile faltered at his flat reception. She attempted to recover. “Right. Um, did you eat yet? I picked up food from that BBQ pit you love. I made them cook the pulled chicken fresh and grabbed some extra sauce.”

“I ate a little earlier but I’ll get to it. Thank you.” 

“Of course. I’ll just put it on the stove?” 

“Sure.” 

Gobsmacked. Speechless. Patrice rocked back and forth on her heels, stumped for words while Terry shifted his attention back to the re-run of Star Trek on the television. 

Her ego was bruised. Shattered and slightly embarrassed, she scurried into the kitchen to lick her wounds but not before Terry caught the beginnings of tears shining in her eyes. Making her cry wasn’t in his cards. He’d only planned to make her sweat a little before opening the floor for a much-needed conversation. But he couldn’t stomach the bit any longer. 

He listened to her slide food containers into the oven before she attempted to rush past him with the rest of her bags and hide in the bedroom. 

“Treecey,” he called as he used the remote to shut off the television. Patrice stopped in her tracks and turned to face him with a look forlorn that it shocked him. He held out his hand and beckoned for her presence. “Come here. Come sit with me.”

She obliged, dropping her things on the ground to perch on the arm of his chair. He took a risk and interlaced his fingers with her to bring the back of her hand up to his mouth for a few quick kisses. Patrice welcomed his affection with a quiet sign as she settled into her spot. 

“You ready to talk,” he asked, lips pressed to her forearm while looking up at her with soft eyes. 

“Can I start?” 

“Floor is yours.”

Patrice sniffled to contain her emotions before starting. 

“This whole thing is new to me. I’ve never made it this far with a man and I damn sure haven’t lived with one. So, I’m sorry if I don’t get it right all the time. Two years is a long time to get used to being alone and, I guess I haven’t quite figured out how to be present for you and be present for myself. Sometimes, I just need a break, T. I need to recalibrate and enjoy the world on my own. I need time to miss you.” 

“I’m not giving you a lot of that, huh?” 

“I’m not giving myself a lot of that,” she asserted, shifting the blame. “You’re not responsible for me communicating my needs. But you’re so cute and I never wanna hurt your feelings. Which I guess I messed up this morning. I’m sorry.”

Terry released a quiet laugh. “You think I’m cute?” 

“That’s what you got from all that? I’m pouring my heart out right now!” 

“I’m joking! C’mon.” 

Before Patrice could go back into her metaphorical shell, he gently tugged her into his lap to cradle her like a baby. He rocked them back and forth for a few seconds and brushed the pad of his thumb across her tear-stained cheek. She closed her eyes to listen to his heartbeat. 

“You did hurt my feelings,” he admitted. “I appreciate the apology and I forgive you. I’m sorry for cramping your space so often. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to feel how much I love you. I guess I never considered that I can’t make up for lost time by holding you hostage in this house.” 

“I’m not gonna run away. I promise.” 

Patrice pulled him closer to her face by the back of his head, intensifying their eye contact.

Terry tightened his grip on her outer thigh and left the ghost of a kiss on her lips. “I know. Tell me when you need a break and it’s yours.”

“And you tell me if I’m being an asshole. Don’t let me run all over you. Unless you like that.”

“I kinda do but we should find out. This is our first disagreement, so I’m not sure, but I think this is the part where we have makeup sex.”

“That sounds good.” 

Patrice had long dissolved into a pool of desire. Every motion of his lips and warm hands keeping her in place with no effort had her attention in like a crystal ball. She’d done the best he could to contain herself, but her resolve was dwindling. 

Terry gave her a moment to lead an intimate kiss, appreciating being on the receiving end for the first time in almost a day. When it felt like she was pushing things past what their warn recliner could handle, he separated them. 

“Whaaaat,” Patrice whined as she threw a childing tantrum in his arms. 

“Let me hear about your day first. I missed you. Tell me everything.” 

His request caught her off guard but delighted her in equal measure. Patrice felt the butterflies in her stomach go into a tizzy at the way Terry looked at her, eagerly awaiting the full scoop. 

“Well, I went to my spot today to try the apple cider donuts.” 

“Yeah? Did you like it?” 

“Oh my God, yes. It was perfect. I got you one of those, too. Oh, I gotta tell you about my book! The last chapter was insane.” 

One question had turned Patrice into a yapper as she spilled the beans on every minute detail she could remember. Terry listened to her winding recollection of the day with intense focus, offering commentary where conversation allowed to mix with lingering smooches along her jaw. 

Eventually, they’d be intertwined and sharing the same breath with a singular goal in mind. For now, though, they’d happily bask in the mundanity of life together on the way to forever.

----

If you'd like to be added or removed, let me know in a private message.

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,140/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, description of blood/wound care, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, you can pry goofy Thorn out of my cold dead hands, smut in part 3? 4?

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Trying something a little different with more, shorter parts for these longer fics. Also forgot to say thanks for 650 followers! hello!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“For the last time, I don’t need a medic.”

Fox is trying to be polite about it, but the tone of his voice is bordering on a growl. Every push on his shoulder is a jab to his pride, making him hiss like an angry tooka-cat. He knows he's being ridiculous, but that's never stopped him before.

His patience is already thin, but it had been stretched to the breaking point by a series of unfortunate events over the course of the day. The first, and arguably the most annoying, had occurred at the beginning of his shift.

Fox had woken up late, and his alarm clock had gone off with a loud, obnoxious tone that had caused him to shoot straight up in his bed, slamming a fist onto the off button. He scrambled out of bed and dressed faster than he thought possible, then hurried into the mess hall for the early shift breakfast. He was late enough that the food line was empty, and his choice was between a bowl of sludgy porridge or an unidentifiable ration bar.

The ration bar had tasted like stale durasteel, and the porridge was more of a thick slop, so Fox had opted for the latter. He scarfed it down with a mug of caf after an overdrawn fight with the machine, which tried to refuse him more than one portion of caf. He had left the mess hall with his stomach growling and his mouth bitter with the aftertaste of the caf, and his mood had soured even further when he found the lift under maintenance, forcing him to take the stairs.

When he arrived at the office, there was an enormous stack of datapads on his desk. A new security system had just been installed throughout the city, and the details were apparently too sensitive to be kept on the holonet. The only copies of the schematics were the ones on the physical datapads, and Fox had the wonderful task of checking every single one.

By the time lunch came around, Fox had managed to read through half the stack despite the constant interruptions. Someone would come in and ask about some obscure policy, or a trooper would report that someone had thrown a bottle at him, and the Chancellor would call for updates, and all the while, Fox had to be careful not to crush the datapads with his gauntlets.

The Chancellor was especially persistent today, calling him in person to demand a detailed analysis of the new security measures. Fox was forced to leave the datapads behind in order to give him an impromptu briefing, which ended with the Chancellor dismissing him with a wave of his hand and a curt, "I'm sure you have more important things to attend to."

Fox was seething when he returned to his office, and in a last minute attempt to escape his prison and an effort to calm himself, he decided to walk the patrol route himself instead of sending a trooper.

Of course, this had to be the day that every citizen on Coruscant decided to commit a crime, from a jaywalking elderly woman to a pair of pickpockets that had made off with a trooper's blaster. There was an argument outside a bar, an illegal speeder chase, and a man had decided to start a fire in the middle of the street, and all this had happened in the span of less than two hours.

Thorn had thought it was funny, but Fox hadn't found it nearly as entertaining. And now, he's been injured during the scuffle with the firestarter, and Thorn is making a big fuss about it.

Fox's shoulder throbs with pain as he moves, and he tries to ignore the way the skin is tightening around the wound. It's only a scratch, but it's deep, and Fox can feel blood oozing out of the cut and dripping down his armor. His head is pounding, and his chest aches from having been slammed against the duracrete by the man's boot.

A hand presses down on his shoulder, and Fox flinches away with another hiss. He turns on Thorn with a scowl

"I'm fine," he growls, shrugging Thorn's hand off his shoulder. "Leave it alone."

"Fox," Thorn says. He's trying to sound reasonable, but Fox can hear the exasperation in his voice. "It's a karking gash on your arm. I can't leave it alone."

Fox rolls his eyes. "I'm not letting you drag me back to the medbay for something as minor as this," he says. He turns and starts walking, heading towards the Senate building. "We've got more important things to do."

"I'm not dragging you to the medbay," Thorn says, running to catch up. He grabs Fox's arm and yanks him to a stop. "You're going to GMF. It's on the way to the Senate anyway."

"What? No!" Fox sputters, but Thorn is already pulling him down the street. He digs his heels into the ground, but Thorn is stronger than he is, and the other commander pulls him forward without breaking his stride.

"You're coming with me whether you like it or not," Thorn says, his voice firm. He doesn't loosen his grip, and Fox can only follow along helplessly. "The office will survive without you for a couple of hours."

"Thorn, you're not—"

"Yes, I am."

Fox scowls. Thorn isn't budging, and neither is he, and they've reached a stalemate. He's considering the merits of just sitting down and refusing to move, but before he can even make a decision, they're already at GMF.

"Let's go," Thorn says, pulling him up the steps. "Just stop trying to act tough and get over yourself."

Fox wants to protest, but Thorn has an iron grip on his arm, and he doesn't want to risk a public spectacle, so he allows himself to be pulled inside.

"Fine," he huffs. He can already feel a headache coming on, and his stomach is still grumbling in protest at its meager breakfast. Maybe he'll be able to sneak away before anyone notices, and no one will ever know that the Commander of the Guard was seen at GMF for such a minor injury.

"That's the spirit," Thorn says, grinning. He pulls on Fox's arm again, and this time, Fox lets himself be dragged away.

They've been sitting in the waiting room for a few minutes, and Fox is already starting to regret his decision. It's a busy day at GMF, and a steady stream of injured people are filing into the building, filling the waiting room with a cacophony of moans and groans.

Fox's shoulder is starting to throb again, and the wound is leaking blood into the fabric of his blacks. Thorn is tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair, his expression thoughtful.

"I wonder how many people are in here because of you," he says, looking around the room. There's a group of young men sitting on the opposite side of the room, nursing a variety of wounds. "They must be getting sick of seeing the Guard around here."

Fox glares at him, and Thorn chuckles.

"You'd think they'd learn their lesson and stop committing crimes," Fox mutters.

"We'd all like that," he laughs. "But we both know that won't happen."

Fox sighs, leaning back against the wall. He shifts slightly, trying to find a comfortable position. He's still annoyed about his arm, and now the smell of bacta is starting to get to him. It had always had a pungent, chemical smell to him, and the scent of the various medical supplies is making him queasy. 

He can feel his stomach starting to churn, and he closes his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing. The bright fluorescent lights are only making things worse, and the sound of the door sliding open and closed as various people walked in and out of the medical wing is grating on his nerves.

It doesn't help that Thorn is sitting right next to him, staring him down like he's a suspect in an interrogation. He'd caught on to Fox's plan to slip away almost as soon as they'd stepped into the room, and Fox had been forced to endure his company as they waited for their turn.

"How long is this going to take?"

"They said they were pretty busy today," Thorn says. "I'm not sure, but you're probably going to be waiting for a while."

"Great."

"Don't be such a baby. It'll be over before you know it."

Fox groans and leans back in his chair. He can't help but think of all the work that he should be doing right now. The stack of datapads has probably gotten taller since they left the office, and he'll have even more work to do once he returns.

He hates the feeling of wasting time, especially when there's so much to be done, and at this rate, he'll be lucky if he manages to finish the rest of his work by nightfall. And that was if the Chancellor didn't call him again.

"You should go back," Fox says, looking up at Thorn. "I can handle this."

Thorn raises an eyebrow, giving him an incredulous look.

"And let you weasel your way out of getting that arm checked out?" he scoffs. "I don't think so."

Fox shoots him a glare, but Thorn only grins.

"Nice try, but no," he says. "I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Thorn—"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Fox sighs and slumps in his seat. He can see that Thorn isn't going to budge, and he doesn't have the energy to argue with him. His shoulder is really starting to hurt now, and the bleeding hasn't slowed down yet. He's getting dizzy, and the queasiness is growing stronger

He closes his eyes, resting his head against the wall. He feels terrible, and the longer he sits here, the worse he feels. The smell of the bacta is making his stomach turn, and the noise and chaos in the room is starting to get to him.

The medical center always brings back memories of the Kaminoans, and he was usually only ever here when one of his brothers was seriously injured. He doesn't have fond feelings towards the place.

"This is a waste of time," Fox mutters. "I could be working, or doing literally anything else right now."

"You know it's not a waste of time," Thorn says. He's looking around the room, keeping a close eye on the other people. "You're injured, and you need to get that taken care of. Stop being such a stubborn di'kut."

Fox is about to say something in response, his eyes land on a medical droid heading their way. He lets out a sigh of relief and gets to his feet. Finally, his suffering is about to end.

"Commander Fox?" the medical droid asks, stopping in front of him with a metallic whir.

"Yes, that's me."

"Please follow me. We're ready for you now."

"Finally," Fox mutters, ignoring Thorn's chuckle. 

He follows the droid down a long, white corridor, his footsteps echoing against the tile floor. He keeps his eyes forward, refusing to look back at Thorn. He doesn't want to see the smug look on his brother's face.

After a few minutes, the droid leads them into an examination room and motions for him to sit down on the cot. Fox complies, perching on the edge of the thin mattress and crossing his arms, trying not to fidget, and Thorn takes a seat in the chair in the corner of the room.

The droid is quick and efficient, running the scanner over his shoulder and chest and checking the readouts. It tells him that he'll need some stitches and bacta treatment, and Fox sigh, nodding his agreement.

"Thank you, Commander," the droid says. It stands still for a moment, processing its data, and then turns and exits the room.

"You're not getting out of this one," Thorn says as soon as the doors shut behind the droid.

"I know," Fox grumbles, slumping in his seat. He rests his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. "I just want to get this over with."

Thorn shakes his head, a smile playing across his lips. He doesn't say anything, but Fox knows he's just happy to have won. They're both competitive, and any victory, no matter how small, is something to celebrate.

"Stop that," Fox snaps. He doesn't want to deal with Thorn's smugness. He's already irritated, and the last thing he needs is for his brother to rub his victory in his face.

"Stop what?" Thorn asks, feigning innocence.

“That thing that you’re doing with your face.”

“It’s called smiling, Fox, you should try it sometime. I think you could use the practice,” Thorn teases, and Fox rolls his eyes.

Before he can come up with a retort, the door opens, and Fox reflexively straightens, preparing himself for the worst. The medical droids aren't exactly known for their gentle touches and bedside manner.

To his surprise, the person who enters the room isn't a medical droid. 

Fox feels his eyes widen as he takes in the decidedly human figure standing in the doorway, a datapad in hand. Wearing a crisp, clean set of medical whites, you stand tall, and his first thought is that you're beautiful.

His second thought is that you look far too cheerful for someone working in a medical facility. Your eyes are bright, and you're smiling, and the expression is so warm and genuine that it makes him wonder how you're managing to maintain it in a place like this.

It's a nice smile.

It isn't until Thorn clears his throat that Fox realizes he's been staring at you for the last few seconds, and he hastily looks away just as you glance up from the datapad.

"Hello," you say, your voice soft. "Commander Fox, is it?"

"Y-yes," he manages to reply, feeling his cheeks flush.

"And I'm Commander Thorn," Thorn chimes in, and he shoots him a smug look when Fox turns to glare at him.

"Well, hello," you say. Your voice is warm and melodic, and your eyes are sparkling. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"The pleasure's all mine," Thorn replies, flashing you a grin.

"Yeah," Fox mumbles. "Pleasure."

He's never felt so awkward in his life, and he's suddenly acutely aware of the blood on his armor, the way his hair is sticking up in all directions, and the fact that he hasn't slept in a couple days. You, on the other hand, look fresh and put together, and you're practically glowing.

You introduce yourself, and you give them a brief summary of your qualifications and experience. Fox doesn't pay much attention to what you're saying. He's too busy trying not to stare at you, and it isn't until he hears the word 'bacta' that he snaps back to reality.

"Wait, what?" he asks.

"Bacta," you repeat, tilting your head slightly. "It's a healing substance that stimulates the body's natural ability to regenerate tissue."

"I know what bacta is," he says, his tone coming out harsher than he intended.

You blink at him, clearly startled by his response, and Fox feels his face heating up.

"Right," you say, clearing your throat. You offer him a small, polite smile, and he looks away, embarrassed. "As I was saying, we'll need to administer a small dose of bacta to the area where the injury occurred. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

"Fine." Fox crosses his arms and tries not to scowl, and you turn away, tapping on your datapad again. Thorn kicks him in the shin, and Fox gives him a look. The other commander gestures with his eyes to you, and Fox frowns, shaking his head.

"Do you have any allergies or medical conditions?" you ask, looking up from the screen.

"No," Fox says, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. The mattress is far too thin, and the metal frame is digging into the back of his knees. "I already told the droid."

"Right," you say. "Just making sure."

Fox glances over at Thorn, who gives him an exasperated look, and Fox sighs. He knows that he's being difficult, but he can't seem to stop himself. His shoulder hurts, his head is throbbing, and his stomach is rumbling, and he just wants to get this over with so he can return to the office and finally finish the rest of his work.

He looks back at you and sees that you're staring at him. You're looking at him with concern, and your lips are pressed into a thin line. You're not smiling anymore, and Fox feels a twinge of guilt.

"You don't have to be nervous," you say. "This is going to be a quick procedure, and it won't hurt at all. We'll use a local anesthetic and numbing spray, and you won't feel a thing."

"I'm not nervous," Fox protests, his face flushing. "I just don't have time for this."

"I understand," you say, and your expression softens. "But this is important, and we need to make sure that you're taken care of."

Fox wants to argue, but there's a hint of steel in your tone, and the look in your eyes is firm. You're clearly not going to let him get out of this, and he sighs, resigning himself to his fate.

"Alright," he says, reluctantly.

"Great," you say, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

He feels a little better when you smile at him, and he tries not to smile back. You turn away, busying yourself with setting up the equipment, and Fox takes the opportunity to look at you again. You're standing with your back to him, and he can see the outline of your figure through your medical whites. You're not very tall, but you're not short either, and he wonders how old you are. You can't be older than twenty-five, he guesses, but it's hard to tell with natborns.

"How did you get that injury, anyway?" you ask, glancing over your shoulder.

"Work-related incident," Fox says. He doesn't want to tell you the truth. He doesn't want you to think he's a clumsy idiot, or that he can't do his job properly.

"Oh," you say, sounding a little surprised. You turn back to the equipment, and he can see the muscles in your back tense. "That sounds... dangerous."

"It's nothing," Fox says, his voice low. "I can handle it."

"Of course," you say softly. You turn around and walk over to the cot, your gaze focused on the equipment. "Okay, armor off, Commander. Let's see it."

Fox stiffens, his heart skipping a beat. "I—what?"

"The injury," you say, your brow furrowing slightly. You reach over and brush your fingers against his arm. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Fox says, a little too quickly. 

Thorn lets out a snort, and Fox glares at him. He just raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face, and Fox rolls his eyes.

"Sorry, it's been a long day," he says as he turns back to you. "Just a bit tired, is all."

"That's understandable," you say, your lips curving into a small, sympathetic smile. "If it makes you feel any better, I've been on my feet since 0600."

"I think you win," Fox says, his voice dry.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, and his heart skips a beat again. It's a nice sound, and he feels a strange surge of pride at having caused it.

He was truly terrible at making small talk, and most people found his dry sense of humor off-putting. The fact that you had laughed at his words, even if it had been a polite, professional laugh, was surprising. It was hard not to see it as a small victory in an otherwise terrible day.

You smile at him again, and he feels a sudden urge to smile back. You look like you're about to say something, but then your datapad beeps, and the moment is lost.

"I'll be right back," you say. "Just got to check something."

You step out of the room, and Fox lets out a breath, relieved that you're gone. He hadn't expected you to be so friendly, or to be so concerned about him. Most natborns just saw the troopers as an extension of their equipment, and they only spoke to him if there was a problem. You're different, though, and it's unnerving.

"You're blushing."

"What?" Fox sputters, turning to Thorn. "What are you talking about?"

"Your face is red," Thorn says with a wide grin.

"It's the lights," he says, pointing to the ceiling. "They're too bright."

"I didn't know we could blush," Thorn teases. "That's kinda cute."

"Shut up."

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me you're not at least a little bit interested."

Fox sighs and shakes his head. "Not now, Thorn. We're in a medical center, not a bar."

"Good thing, too." Thorn stands up and starts to help him unlatch his armor, a smirk on his face. "Cause if we were, you wouldn't have a chance. She's way out of your league."

"You're the worst," Fox says, and he swats Thorn's hands away and reaches up to unfasten his shoulder plates himself.

"She's pretty," Thorn continues, ignoring him. He pulls off Fox's pauldrons and sets them on the ground. "And she's not scared of you, either. That's a first."

"Yeah, well, she works in a medical facility," Fox mutters, slipping out of his cuirass. "They must have taught her how to deal with difficult patients."

"Maybe," Thorn says. He removes the rest of Fox's armor, placing it carefully on the ground, and then steps back. "But I don't think that's it. She's nice."

"She's paid to be nice."

"That's not fair, and you know it."

"I don't need you playing matchmaker," Fox grumbles.

"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. "But if you don't ask for her frequency, I will."

Fox's eyes widen. "Don't you dare—"

The doors slide open again, and you step inside, your expression bright. "Sorry about that."

Your gaze is focused on the gloves you're pulling over your hands as you walk in, but as soon as you look up, your smile vanishes, and you freeze. Your eyes are fixed on his arm, and Fox quickly glances down, noticing the large dark patch of blood seeping through his undershirt.

"Oh, Commander!" you exclaim, hurrying towards him.

"It's not that bad," he says. He hadn't realized how bad it was until now, and his heart is pounding in his chest. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Your tone is stern, and he finds himself shrinking back a little under your intense gaze. "Now sit still."

Fox does as he's told, watching as you pull a stool over and set up a tray. Your movements are swift and practiced, and you don't seem at all bothered by the amount of blood. You're frowning, but your eyes are calm, and Fox finds himself relaxing a little.

"Let's get this over with," you mutter.

You're not smiling anymore, and it unsettles him. He'd thought that he had imagined the steel in your voice earlier, but now he can hear it clearly, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"Yes, sir," he says, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's doctor, actually."

Fox winces.

"My mistake," he mutters, his voice apologetic. "Force of habit."

You look at him, and he thinks he sees the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, but before he can be sure, your face is composed and neutral again.

"Would you prefer I cut the sleeve off, or would you rather take it off yourself?"

"I'll do it."

You nod, and he lifts his arms, peeling the soaked fabric away from his skin. His stomach clenches at the sight of the deep, bloody gash, and the stench of copper is heavy in the air. He can feel the blood beginning to trickle down his arm, and the sight of his pale, slick flesh is almost enough to make him vomit.

"Are you okay?" you ask, placing a hand on his uninjured shoulder.

"Yeah," Fox manages. He's feeling a little woozy, but he tries to push it down. "I'll be fine."

You give him a sympathetic look, and he looks away, his gaze fixed on the wall.

"Okay," you say. You grab a vial and a syringe and inject it into his arm. "This should help numb the pain. Try not to move."

Fox nods, and you lean closer, gently cleaning the wound. The smell of the disinfectant is strong, and he forces himself to focus on your face instead. Your expression is calm, and you're humming softly as you work, and he finds himself relaxing a little more.

"How did this happen, anyway?"

"Like I said, it's work-related."

"So it was a knife, then?"

Fox glances at the gash, and he nods. He can't tell if the cut is deep enough to require stitches or not, and he's a little worried that the knife might have hit an artery.

"You're going to have a nice scar."

"Good. It'll match the others," he mutters, his tone flat.

You pause for a moment, looking at him. Your expression is unreadable, but there's a sadness in your eyes that he doesn't understand. You resume cleaning the wound, and he tries not to think about it.

"Do you always go out in the field?" you ask.

"Sometimes."

"And do you usually get injured like this?"

"It's not uncommon."

"Hmm." You're quiet for a few moments, and then you glance up at him, your eyes filled with concern. "You're very brave."

Fox is stunned. No one has ever said anything like that to him before, and it catches him off guard. He doesn't know how to respond, and he just sits there, staring at you. You don't seem to mind, and you return your attention to his wound.

"This is a lot deeper than I thought," you murmur. "It'll need a few stitches."

"Okay," he says, his voice soft.

"Try to relax," you say, gently touching his arm.

He nods, and you begin to sew up the wound. He tries not to think about the fact that the needle is digging into his flesh, and instead focuses on the feeling of your gloved hands on his skin. They're gentle and warm, and the scent of the disinfectant is beginning to fade, replaced by the faintest trace of flowers.

He can't remember the last time someone touched him so tenderly. His brothers are rarely so careful, and most people who touch him are doing so with the intention of causing him harm. It's a pleasant change, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he expected.

"Sorry," you say, glancing up at him. "Almost done."

"Take your time," Fox replies. "I'm in no rush."

That's patently untrue, but the lie slips from his lips easily, and he's rewarded by a smile. He can see Thorn giving him a pointed look, and he knows that his brother will never let him live it down. But right now, he doesn't care.

The smell of flowers grows stronger, and he realizes that it's coming from you. The scent is subtle, but pleasant, and he's surprised by how much he likes it. He wonders what the source is. Is it your hair? Your skin? Or maybe it's something you wear, like perfume. He can't quite tell, and the mystery is starting to bother him.

You finish suturing his wound, and you dab some bacta gel over the stitches, sealing them. The sensation is cool and soothing, and Fox lets out a soft sigh of relief.

"How does that feel?" you ask.

"Better."

"Good," you say, your expression softening. You reach out and squeeze his uninjured shoulder, and Fox's eyes widen slightly at the unexpected gesture. "You should be all set, Commander."

"Thanks," he says, and the word sounds awkward in his ears. He's never thanked anyone for treating his wounds before. Usually, it was a medic droid, or another trooper, and his thanks were never required. But somehow, the words seem necessary now.

"Of course," you say, a hint of surprise in your voice. You remove your gloves, tossing them in the bin, and turn to clean up your equipment. "Do you have any other injuries, Commander? Any other...work-related incidents?"

"No, nothing else."

"Good." You stand up and stretch, and Fox takes the opportunity to admire the shape of your body. He can't help himself, and he quickly looks away, a flush rising on his cheeks.

"Thank you," Thorn chimes in, and Fox nearly jumps out of his skin. He had almost forgotten that the other commander was there, and his brother is looking at him with a knowing smile.

"You're welcome," you say, smiling at Thorn. You turn to Fox and offer him a smile, too, and he tries to smile back. It probably looks more like a grimace, and he quickly drops it.

"Now, remember, if that gets infected, or the stitches come loose before they dissolve, I want you to come right back, okay? No excuses."

"Got it," Fox replies.

"I mean it, Commander," you say, and you give him a stern look. "Don't make me hunt you down."

Fox blinks, his heart skipping a beat. You're serious, and he finds himself nodding, agreeing without thinking.

"Yes, sir," he says, and then mentally curses himself. "Doctor."

You chuckle, and the sound makes his chest tighten. It's the nicest sound he's heard all day, and he can't help but smile. You give him a playful salute, and he returns it, and you laugh again.

"Well, I hope we don't see each other anytime soon," you say, grinning.

"Me, too," Fox mutters, before he stiffens. "I mea—"

"I know what you mean," you say, your eyes sparkling. You hold out a hand, and he hesitates for a moment before taking it. Your skin is warm, and his breath catches in his throat when you gently squeeze his hand. "Take care, Commander."

"You, too," he says, and your smile widens. 

You pick up your datapad and step around the cot, moving towards the door. As you pass him, Fox catches another hint of the flowery scent, and his eyes widen. Lavender. It's lavender.

"Have a good day, gentlemen," you say. You flash him one last smile, and then you're gone.

He lets out a long, slow breath, trying to process what just happened. He feels... strange. There's an odd warmth in his chest, and he's still not quite sure what it is. He doesn't think it's anything bad, but it's new, and he doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe it's the blood loss. Or the painkillers. Or maybe it's the bacta. Yeah, it's probably the bacta.

Thorn slaps him on the back, and he lets out a startled noise, nearly falling off the cot.

"I don't know what the hell that was," Thorn says, chuckling. "But it was the most pathetic thing I've ever seen."

"Shut up."

"Seriously," he continues. "She's definitely way out of your league. I might even say she's way out of mine."

"I'm leaving," Fox grumbles. He grabs his armor and starts putting it on, trying not to wince as the plates rub against the bandages. "Get out of my way."

"Sure, sure," Thorn says, stepping aside. He gives Fox a sidelong glance, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Just make sure you give her your frequency."

Fox stops, his helmet half-on. He stares at Thorn, his mouth agape, and then turns away, pulling his bucket on over his head. He's not about to give Thorn the satisfaction of an answer. Not when his brother is clearly enjoying his discomfort so much.

He stalks out of the room, his boots echoing against the tile floor. Thorn follows, laughing, and Fox can feel his cheeks burning. He keeps his head down, his shoulders hunched, and he's determined not to speak another word. 

As they walk through the lobby, he notices you standing at the desk, speaking to the receptionist. You're not smiling anymore, but Fox can still see the ghost of it on your lips, and he feels the strange warmth growing inside him.

Thorn elbows him, and Fox lets out a hiss, glaring at him through his visor. He's already starting to regret allowing Thorn to drag him here. This whole experience had been far more traumatic than the injury itself, and he would have been better off ignoring it. But as he looks back at you, his gaze lingering on your form, he finds that he doesn't really regret it. At least not entirely.

The receptionist hands you a datapad, and you nod, thanking her. You turn and look at him, and he quickly ducks his head, pretending to adjust his pauldron.

"Commander!" you call out. "Wait a moment."

Fox stops, and Thorn snorts. He turns and sees you approaching, a small smile on your lips.

"Forget something?" he asks, and he winces internally at how gruff his voice sounds.

"Yes, actually," you say, stopping in front of him.

"Okay," he says slowly. He doesn't really understand why you're talking to him again, but he's not complaining. "What is it?"

"Your frequency."

Fox freezes, his eyes widening. He can't believe what he's hearing, and for a moment, he's convinced that he's misheard. It doesn't seem possible. Not with how the day has gone so far.

He glances over at Thorn, who's practically vibrating with excitement, and he quickly turns back to you, his heart racing.

"Uh..."

"I'll have the receptionist check in on you every few days, just to make sure everything is healing up okay," you continue. You hold out your datapad, and he takes it automatically. "But if there's any complications, or you notice anything unusual, don't hesitate to contact me, okay?"

The breath leaves his lungs, and he's grateful for the bucket over his head. Right. Of course. You're his doctor. This is completely professional. The disappointment that floods his veins is surprising, and he mentally scolds himself. What had he been expecting, anyway?

“That won’t be necessary," he says, handing the datapad back. "But thank you."

You frown. "Commander..."

"It's fine." He turns and gestures for Thorn to follow. "Come on, we've got work to do."

He can hear Thorn muttering behind him, and he knows that his brother is probably annoyed, but he doesn't care. The warmth inside him has vanished, replaced by an uncomfortable numbness. He doesn't know what he was hoping for, and he's glad that the conversation is over. It's better this way.

You call out after him, but he ignores you, and within moments, he's out of the building and back on the street. Thorn is right behind him, and they start the long trek back to the office.

"I can't believe you just did that," Thorn mutters.

"Did what?" Fox asks. He doesn't look at him, keeping his eyes fixed forward. He can feel his face heating up, and he's suddenly feeling very tired.

"You're an idiot," Thorn says, shaking his head.

"Shut up."

They walk in silence for a few minutes, and Fox tries not to think about the conversation. It doesn't matter, and it's better to just forget it.

He's been doing this job long enough to know that it’s dangerous to get attached to people, especially when they were civilians. Things never worked out, and the risk of getting hurt was too great. He'd seen too many of his brothers get their hearts broken by the citizens they were trying to protect, and he wasn't about to let that happen to him. It wasn't worth it. And you weren't special, anyway. You were just another natborn.

He repeats these thoughts to himself over and over, and eventually, he starts to believe them. The warmth inside him disappears, and the numbness returns. He's relieved. He's finally starting to get his head on straight, and the sooner he forgets about you, the better.

And yet, when they reach the Senate building, Fox hesitates. His eyes wander towards the medical center towering over the cityscape, and he feels a twinge in his chest. He tries to ignore it, and he continues walking, heading towards the office. But the ache doesn't go away, and the image of your smile lingers in his mind, taunting him.

He doesn't know why it bothers him so much. He'd only just met you, and it was nothing but a brief conversation. There was no reason to be upset. But somehow, it feels like something was taken from him. And he can't figure out what it was.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika @aanncummings

[clip-the-simp]

A Long Days Work

Ao3 Master list

Pairing: Logan Howlett // Wolverine x mutant!fem!reader

Word count: 4,572

Cw: slight proofreading, language, alcohol, injury, jealousy, harassment, pet names in replace of y/n

Summary: After a long day of tending to children’s bumps and bruises Logan takes you out for drinks.

A/N: This wasn’t meant to take as long as it did but oh well. Hopefully the next part won’t take as long to put out.

It had been a longer day than most. It had started off like usual, made your rounds to students who required their medications, and checked up with a few who had gotten a cold to make sure they were doing well. However, after the routinely quiet morning all hell broke loose and set the tone for the work day.

Three of the older students had decided to test and see who was the most durable out of the group. Even though their mutations weren’t that of indestructible skin or accelerated healing, they still wanted to test their luck. And test they did, which only landed all of them in your office. The teens all looked embarrassed as they walked in looking worse for wear.

One of the boys had the ability to shoot knife-like plates of metal from his hands. He came away with a few scratches from missed shots that had been aimed at the second boy. The second had the ability to fly, but he ended up with scraped palms along with a sprained wrist from falling out of the air. However, the third boy, the mastermind of the operation, had received the worst of it.

You had patched up the other two and sent them on their way to the Professor's office so your focus was solely on the third teen. He had the ability to shift his flesh into any organic matter he pleased. Unfortunately he didn’t have control of the mutant down yet. So when a few blades came for him, instead of summoning metal over his skin, he had replaced the flesh with tree bark. That unfortunately only allowed the blades to sink in deeper.

If he tried to shift out of that form the blades would proceed to bleed him out with where they were lodged. So you had to think of a plan to keep him from losing too much blood but also consolidate your power as to not over exert yourself. Sure, keeping the kid alive was a priority, but if you passed out during the healing process you wouldn’t be of any use. With the cuts being so deep it would take a lot out of you to heal them fully. So you decided to heal the boy only enough to require stitches. Plan then made, you brought his attention back to you.

“You’re going to have to stay in this form while I take the blades out, ok?” Your tone was as soft as you could manage. It was understandable that things like this happened at the institut, but it still irked you that most kids didn’t have common sense.

“I’ll heal you enough that you’ll only require stitches. But it’ll take me time to do.” You informed him to which he nodded in understanding. A reassuring smile crossing your face.

“Yes Ma’am.” He said in a weak voice, his eyes never meeting yours as he continued to look at the ground. There was a shake to his response, his desire to not cry in front of you kept him from looking up.

The plan went off without a hitch for the majority of the work. Each blade had been taken out carefully and each gash had healed evenly enough with your powers to simply stitch the wounds shut. However when it came time for the stitches the teen had to shift back. The fear that radiated off him was almost tangible as he tried to convince you to simply heal him the rest of the way. And when that didn’t work he tried to insist that wood could be stitched.

Eventually you had calmed and reassured him enough that he would be fine. If anything major did happen you would take care of it. With him reassured he returned to flesh which he quickly realized hurt a lot more. You managed to keep him still in order to stitch him up quickly but once it was over you still had to send him to the Professor.

Now drained you realized you still had several hours before you were off duty. And the rest of the day was no less uneventful. Several more students came by with various injuries. Most were unintentional self inflicted as they had been training their powers, with supervision. But some had come from other students' training. Exhaustion had slowly started to seep into your bones.

-

“You look like shit.” You lifted your head up from the office desk to see Logan leaning against the door frame. He was in his classic yellow and blue suit which got a small smile from you. He must’ve been training if the dust on his clothes gave any indication.

“I feel like it.” You chuckled as you stood from your chair and cracked your back. Logan made his way into the room and looked at the paperwork that scattered the work space. With each student that came in you had to write an incident report. Most were simple, but for one's like that morning they had to be worded precisely.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods? Need a bandaid for one of your cuts? Or perhaps a kiss to make it all better?” You teased, absentmindedly organizing your desk while Logan watched. His laugh turned into a smirk as he grabbed your chin. The hold he had on your face was light as he forced you to look up at him. Tearing the focus away from the papers, your eyes met with his.

“Tempting. But I had other ideas.” His words sent a heat to rush up your body. The hand that held your chin retreated to form a finger gun as he spoke. He pulled away but you remained leaned against the desk for a moment longer.

“The others don’t have any missions to go on. So they’ll be here for the night.” Logan said before crossing his arms over his chest. Your face still hot from his hold it took you a moment to register what he was trying to say.

“That’s good.” You responded with a small smile as you leaned back. It was embarrassing to say the least that a simple touch could put your head in a spin.

“Do you want to go out?” Logan’s question caught you off guard. So in your typical fashion you teased him.

“Are you asking me on a date, Logan Howlett?” You asked with a raised brow and a smirk before leaning onto the desk. He leaned in, your faces mere inches from one another. It felt as if all the air in the room was sucked away as neither of you pulled away.

“If you say yes.” His statement was plain but you knew the intention. You had thought about asking him out before but hadn’t gotten the courage yet to do it yourself. Sure you had over two hundred years to get that courage but nevertheless, it was nice he made the first move.

“Sure. I’d love to go out.” You leaned back, breaking the eye contact you both held. Glancing over at the clock on your wall to see the time. “I got another hour before I’m off for the night.” When you pulled away from the desk, Logan took one of your hands in his and pulled you back to him with a gentle tug.

“We both know your work here is never done.” His thumb began to rub circles on the top of your hand. Logan’s eyes met yours once again and you could feel the moment your sense of responsibility washed away.

“The others can take care of any bumps and bruises. Let’s get out of here.” He continued his pursuit in convincing you but Logan didn’t realize he had already won. A sigh left your lips as you covered his occupied hand with your other. Giving it a slight squeeze as you spoke.

“Fine. But I’m getting changed first and you should too.” You stated before taking your hands away from his and poking his chest. He chuckled as you headed for the door. “Meet me in the garage in fifteen?” You instructed before leaving and made haste. However you did catch Logan’s reply before you departed.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

-

Having changed into more appropriate attire for the occasion, you made your way to the garage. Your outfit wasn’t anything extravagant but it was better than the medical scrubs you had on before.

When you entered the garage your attention was immediately brought to Logan. He was leaning against Scott’s motorcycle, his signature leather jacket adorned his shoulders along with his typical jeans. A smile played on his lips as you approached, his eyes taking you in.

“You look good.” He said, pushing off the bike to get closer to you. A smile graced your face at his compliment. No matter how simple his flattering remarks may be.

“Thank you. Handsome as always I see.” You said as you came toe to toe with him. He took your hand in his and raised it to his lips as he placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. Your face instantly heated with the fire of a thousand suns, having not expected him to do anything of that nature.

“You ready to go?” Logan asked, lowering your hand but still keeping it in his hold. It took a moment for his question to register but you nodded eagerly.

“Absolutely!” You said but your face instantly dropped as realization washed over you. “Shit! Wait, I should probably tell someone I’m leaving otherwise-“ when you tried to turn around and pull your hand out of Logan’s grasp he spun you back to face him. His unoccupied hand came to your shoulder and he moved his thumb gently.

“I already told the Professor who already told everyone else. You’re fine.” His words instantly soothed the rising panic that had been bubbling. A smile returning to your face.

“Look at you thinking ahead.” You teased as Logan removed his hand from your shoulder. He chuckled at your remark. His hand gave a small squeeze to yours that had remained in his grasp.

“Well. I know your day hasn’t been the best. So I wanted to make it up to you.” He began to pull you in the direction of the motorcycle. Two full face helmets rested on the seat. Logan grabbed the one meant for you and turned back to you.

“Hope you don’t mind helmet hair.” He said before he gently placed it over your head. His hands brushed over your jaw as he worked to tighten the strap. It wasn’t that you couldn’t do it yourself, but Logan wouldn’t let you argue. You almost thought it was another one of his own selfish ways of touching you. But you tried not to read too much into the jester.

With your helmet secure he quickly put on his own before helping you into the bike. Making sure to swing your leg high enough not to scratch the paint. When Logan got on the bike you instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he started the engine. The bike roared to life under you.

“Hold on tight.” Logan yelled back over the bike as he opened the garage door and the two of you rolled out into the warm summer night. Wind blowing passed as you made your way down the road.

-

The drive to the nearest bar was ten minutes away which had been fine with you. The grip your arms had on Logan stayed tight as the two of you flew down the road. When arriving in town he weaved through traffic like a mad man which caused your hold on him to only get tighter.

Parking wasn’t an issue as it was fairly empty for a Tuesday night. Logan helped you off the bike before moving to relieve you of your helmet. His fingers just as nimble as before while he took it off. After the bike was secured and helmets insured not to get stolen, you both walked into the bar. The man at the front desk checking your fake IDs before letting you in. Luckily for the two of you the Professor knew some people who did excellent work in fake documentation.

Although there weren’t many vehicles in the parking lot, the building was still busy as always. There were three distinct groups along with a few lone drinkers amongst the attendees. One group of five was stationed at the barstools while the other two groups took up the pool tables. There were two bartenders for the night, one was an older lady that you’ve seen there a few times before. While the second was much younger and hardly seemed old enough to be drinking herself.

Logan and yourself took the seats at the corner of the bar. As you sat, the younger bartender came over and took your orders. Making sure to pay extra attention to Logan’s drink choice which was simple as always.

“I’ll get right on that sugar.” She said with a wink at Logan as she went to pour the drinks. You could feel the blood in your veins begin to boil from jealousy. She was pretty in all the superficial ways a person could think of. However from the way she carried herself you could tell that was as deep as her beauty went.

“Hey sweetheart, are you alright?” Logan’s voice cut through the haze of your thoughts before they could wander too deep. Your eyes met his and it soon registered to you that his hand rested on your thigh.

“Ya. Ya I’m fine.” You said with a wavering smile. When his eyebrows knitted together you knew he wasn’t convinced. You took his hand from your thigh and into your hand, giving it a light squeeze. Before you could reassure him a second time your eyes darted to the bartender as she brought the drinks. She placed your drink down in a rush before taking her time with Logan’s whiskey. Slowly pushing it towards him and making sure to lean on the counter enough to show off her breast.

You took your hand away from Logan’s and quickly grabbed the beverage in front of you before beginning to drink at a steady pace. Suppressing the urge to overreact as she continued her pursuit on the man beside you. You hated confrontation while sober, and you also know where Logan’s intentions lied. As much as your brain wanted to dissociate from the situation you forced yourself to focus on their conversation. Knowing that Logan would handle the situation.

“Can you see I’m with someone?” His tone was gruff and a bit more abrasive than what may have been necessary. However it still didn’t deter her as she continued to smile. His hands rested on the counter, one quickly reached out to grab his drink. When his fingers met the glass the girl reached out and ran her fingers over his knuckles. He quickly jerked his glass away to show his displeasure for the girl. Eyebrows furrowing as he did. As much as you wanted to reach out and throw your drink in her face, you refrained.

“She doesn’t seem to be protesting too much.” She remarked. The bartender pointed to you before crossing her arms. Leaning into one hip as she continued her pursuit. At this point the jealousy that had been brewing turned into simple anger. The girl wasn’t getting the clear message that Logan wasn’t interested.

“Probably because she’s too nice to run you off.” He barked, his hand made a fist and pointed at himself with his thumb. “But I ain’t. So if you wouldn’t mind just taking our drink orders that’d be great.” The girl scoffed at his words and placed her hands on her hips.

“Well it seems- ow!“ Before she could finish her insult, you had forced a bottle of tequila off of the shelf which fell onto her shoulder. Hitting it with a hard thud before shattering to the tile floor. You had formed a small block of condensed air particles behind the bottle and used it to push the bottle from its spot on the shelf.

You put your empty drink down. A fake look of shock crossed your face but Logan’s didn’t have to be forced. His eyebrows raised high at the sudden shatter of the bottle and the girl clutching her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” You finally spoke, your tone matching the one you use for the hurt kids at the mansion. She gritted her teeth at you as you feigned concern. Deep down you couldn’t be happier by the outcome.

“I’m fine! I’ll make you another drink.” The bartender mumbled. She continued rubbing her shoulder, a bruise sure to form, as she made her way over to make another drink.

You bid her a polite thank you before turning back to Logan. You had fought to keep the smile off your face but when Logan greeted you with a knowing smirk it was all over. A sheepish smile appeared on your lips.

“I’m sorry.” You said and fettled with your hands, not exactly sure what to do with them. That sheepish smile still in your face as you looked away. Logan noticed this and quickly took one of your hands in his.

“You have nothing to apologize for. But perhaps next time we stay at the mansion and drink, ya?” His thumb drawing figure eight onto your hand which brought you back to him. Your smile was far more genuine than before. The promise of another date etched into his words.

“Ya. That would be nice.” You agreed, your eyes were locked onto Logan’s but it was quickly intercepted when your drink slid over to you. Averting your gaze from the man in front of you, you realized that it was the older woman this time who brought you the drink.

You quickly thanked her before taking a sip. It didn’t take long after that before drinks were flowing freely between the two of you. Talking as you usually did and discussing drama floating around the school. It was nice as you got to unload all of your troubles not just from that morning, but from everything else.

“Hey I’ll be right back.” Logan said as he stood from his stool. He had just finished off another glass of whisky. Even though he had quite a few glasses already he seemed just as sober as when the two of you had gotten there.

“Oh ok.” You said with a smile as he left. Your eyes trained on him as he turned down the hall that had a neon sign indicating the bathrooms. While you continued to drink your beverage there was a sudden hand that gripped your shoulder. Dread filled your body as you turned to the man who had taken Logan’s seat.

“Glad he’s finally gone.” He said while leaning in for you to smell the potency of his breath. Not only did it reek of cheap alcohol but it also seemed as if he hadn’t brushed his teeth in a month. Your nose scrunched at the smell but you kept your focus on your drink. Placing a hand over top of it to insure it wasn’t spiked.

“Oh what’s the matter baby? Cat got your tongue?” He continued with his advances. You couldn’t help but side eye him at that point. He wasn’t a bad looking man but, just like the young bartender, his looks were as deep as his likability went.

“Fuck off. I’m not interested.” You said before taking a sip from your drink. There wasn’t much you could think to say with the buzz you had going.

“Oh ho I like when they put up a fight.” The hand you hadn’t registered was still on your shoulder giving a squeeze. It was a hard grip, one meant to intimidate a person. But it only fueled the frustration building under your skin. In a swift movement you grabbed his wrist and twisted it. You sprang off the bar stool and forced his chest into the counter before pinning his arm behind him.

“I’ll give you a fight. But it’s not going to be fair.” You growled above him. The mutation in your veins wanting to burst forward and rearrange every atom in his body until he was nothing but a pile of flesh on the ground.

“Ow! What the fuck.” He yelled under you as his other limbs flailed. A devilish smile started to play on your lips at the thought. However, before you did anything foolish, you felt another hand on your shoulder. This one though held a distinct feeling of familiarity as it weighed on you.

“Hey bub. When a lady tells you to fuck off, it’s probably best to do as she says.” Logan said as your grip on the man disappeared. You let him up and grabbed your drink once again to finish it off.

“You can have her! Crazy bitch.” He shouted as he dusted himself off. Your gaze darted to Logan in search for his approval.

“Let me at him, Logan. I’ll put him in his place.” You said with a crack of your fingers and a pop from your neck. Logan’s hand came up to one of your balled fists to lower it.

“No sweetheart.” He said with a gentle tone. The urge to gut the man harassing you subsided. Although the booze was urging you to fight, Logan’s hold on you was outweighing it.

“Aw look at that. Your boyfriend isn’t gonna let you fight like a-“ before another insult could leave his mouth Logan turned and clocked him in the face. The man slumped over the counter, knocked out from the adamantium punch Logan swiftly delivered. The bartender quickly came over but before she could say a word Logan stopped her. He held out a card to her.

“Do you mind closing us out? Thank you.” He said as she took the card to run it for the drinks. You felt a bet wobbly and leaned against the counter. The man had fallen from the counter to the ground with his face down. The Bartender came back a few moments later and handed the card back to Logan with a receipt.

“Come on darlin. Let’s get you home.” He went to take your hand but you pulled it away. The alcohol had started to impair your judgment now that it had replaced the adrenaline. His eyebrows knitted together when you pulled away. Stumbling a little as you did.

“Come on, I wanted to fight. Let’s wait for him to wake up.” You pushed off the counter and balled up your fist while looking at the unconscious man.

“That’s not happening today. Come on.” Before you could protest again, Logan wrapped his arm around your thighs and threw you over his shoulder. You gasped and firmly planted your hands on his lower back to keep from falling too far.

“Logan!” You gasped, feeling dizzy from the sudden jostle. With that he began to walk for the door, making sure to ignore the looks that people gave as the two of you passed. Logan bid the front door man a nod good night as he made way for the door.

“Watch your head.” He warned before walking through the doors. At that point you gave up on fighting him and lowered yourself so as to not get hit by the door frame.

Logan didn’t put you down until he made it to the bike. Even then he kept a hand on you as he grabbed your helmet. He put it on you just as carefully as he did before, making sure it was secured before putting on his own.

He once again helped you onto the bike and started the engine. Your arms instinctively wrapped around Logan but with far more strength than before. The fear of you falling off in your drunken state was heavily in your thoughts. You felt Logan’s chest as he chucked, placing a hand over your forearm.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I gotcha.”

-

The ride back home had been just as smooth as the ride out. The roads had been clearer in town from the late hour so there wasn’t a need to bob and weave through traffic. Your hold on Logan remained tight until the moment he pulled into the garage. There were several moments during the drive that he placed his hand onto your arm. A silent reassurance that he had you and wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

It hadn’t taken long before you were stumbling back to your room with Logan in tow. After you had run into the door frame, heading from the garage into the house, he placed an arm around your waist to insure it wouldn’t happen again. You leaned fully into his touch, soaking in the warmth that always radiated off him.

It wasn’t long before you two arrived at your bedroom door. Logan’s arm fell from your body as he pulled away, taking his warmth with it. You slumped against your door, back pressed firmly against the wood. A grin crossed your lips as you looked up at Logan, he smiled back at you.

“I had fun tonight. Minas the whole getting hit on thing from both parties.” Logan said with a light chuckle. You couldn’t help the muffled laugh you gave after covering your mouth. Trying to stay quiet for the sake of the kids.

“Agreed. Definitely staying here next time we want to drink.” You emphasized with a tap to your door. Your wrist bone hit the door knob with a hard thud.

“Ow.” You said while shaking your hand, Logan reached out and took it in his. Gently rubbing his thumb over the red mark, he brought your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss. Your cheeks grew hot and a dumb smile crossed your face, the jester getting a stronger reaction then if it had happened while sober.

“Goodnight sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” He said, returning the smile as it all became too much. Logan’s proximity, his touch, the lingering feeling of his kiss. With the liquid courage still coursing through your veins, you pushed off the door. Lightly placing a hand on his shoulder you leaned upwards and placed a kiss on his lips. It was a very brief moment, only lasting a second before you turned back to your door and opened it.

“Good night Logan.” You said with a wave and smile before shutting your door. With the door closed behind you, now alone in your room, the realization of what you just did sank in. You had just drunkenly kissed Logan Howlett.

The man that you’ve watched fight through every war known to man. The man you thought you’d never see again after Vietnam. The man who Scott unknowingly brought back into your life. The man who you formed a friendship with after finding out his memories were no more. The man who you had no idea if the feelings of wanting more were mutual.

Panic seeped into your bones as realization hit you like a frate train. Your body began to slightly shake and your breathing uneven before you slumped back against the door. The scene replaying in your head.

What did I just do?

[shuenkio]

Glass of Water | 엔.하.이.픈 ۶ৎ 제이⋆.˚ 🎃

Paring: Jay X M!reader | Genre: Heavy Smut

Synopsis: just a glass of water, take you back to your nightmare again.

Cw: size kink, cursing, rough play, mentioned of cum, unprotected séx(dni), cum inside, bad language(this fic), crush trope.

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A💀N: I hate to be that person, but hey Jay fic is rare especially with the m so why not drop another Special Halloween gift~ (language is so bad in here so bare with me 😭)

Having those party friends was like being a kitten in a dog's cage, and as a nerd too, you were suffocating however at least you got friends to cure your boredom's life.

The sky shifted from gold to violet as the sun dipped below the horizon. Where in a club, you were drinking, dancing your ass out with your friends, forget yourself for the night just throw away all the worries.

However, it unfortunately happens when you are unconscious about yourself, last night until now, you find yourself in bed, an unfamiliar place In front of your face, not to mention there's someone else also in bed with you too. Panic sent down to your spine, as you get a closer look at that guy, seems familiar before you pull out the blanket out of his face, then it hits you like a bang of bullet, Jay? ... The senior that everyone loves on campus? What is he doing here? No way.

Feeling vulnerable and exposed, you dig your eyes down under the blanket to see you are actually naked, no this can't be happening. Not what you were thinking about it was right now. The atmosphere grows jarring, the silence inside the hotel room was so loud you could hear your own pounding heartbeat, it's very wrong. What happened last night, you can't recall, think head think. Epiphany, your body wide awake when you remember what's truly happened. You just having sex with your senior.

Couldn't take it anymore, you left the bed pulling the blanket off from the sleep jay, wrapped around yourself like a burrito before letting out a shriek.

Good thing the room is soundproof but Jay's ears are not. He jolted awake by the sudden screaming.

"HWAT WHAT? WHAT'S GOING ON" Starlet, he yells back out of panic, asking what is wrong but all he sees is you were there, wrapped around in blankets and immediately understands the situation.

"I see, let me explain M/N I swear" Jay rubbing his temple, already having a hard times to solve this. He was calming you down but before that, he soon realized he was exposed too in the sight. But soon cover by a pillow as his quick hand reacts. You slow down your heart and keep calm for a bit, giving him one last chance to explain, since all the events had happened last night are blurred in your head, and Jay was also responsible for this situation.

Later you discover, both of you and Jay are not at fault or else? By hearing his story side, it's actually an accident. Jay drinks too much vodka and also in heat at the time, while your story is also similar to him, your friends feed you too much alcohol until you lose control of yourself and boom, they put you guy in the same room out of prank, they know you had a huge ass crush on the senior.

Not to mention, The club is across the street of the Hotel which makes a lot of sense that this, happens on purpose.

"F-for real?" You spoke.

"I'm telling the truth. I know it's hard for both of us and I'm willing to take anything to make it up to you just k-keep it low alright?" Desperate of him, he asked for a favor in return for his responsibility, which he is willing to do as you wish just so you won't do bad to his image, and the priority was, the campus.

Biting your bottom lip, frustrated is not the word to describe how you feel for now, as if your world doing backflip from being bad to fine. lucky enough you were just a dude and not some of chic, wouldn't that be a disaster if that came true?

Taking time to catch his breath, Jay was thirsty from explanation and his sort of theory, oblivious as he took a full sip of glass of water on the night stand without knowing it was actually an aphrodisiac mix with water.

You are still in deep thoughts, thinking what would you do next after all of this thing happening all together. Unexpectedly, you glance at Jay who was looking out of the blue, uncomfortable on his feet.

"Are you okay there? Why are you fanning yourself? T-the ac is still on" stare at his body and began to tense and uneasy. You asked, It's really concerning at his state right now, why did he look like he was in heat,... Again?

"I'm i-m not sure I just drink this glass of water, n... Now I feel everything is burning ahh help m~me" unable to react, overwhelmed by the sudden hit of the mixing pill, to your surprise he lunches at you, as his strong hands harshly ripped off away of the blanket, wrapped around your body. The next thing you know, you were naked again. Now that's fuck up.

"Jay!! What are you doing HaHH waait what no—" taking a pleading sight In front of him right now, his intentions are clear as day what he wants to do, by the time you could figure what's wrong with him, you were already under his pair of arms, as he spread your legs apart like a pro, lifting you up in mid air. So then when Jay's hands finally found a comfortable place behind your nape, he quickly entranced himself on your vulnerable pink tint hole, he won't fear that he might break your hole again, cuz he was already done last night, before bucking his hip upward brutally, giving you no warning.

The nostalgia pleasure flashbacks again, this feels almost like what you recall last night, his long colossal length thrusting in with no mercy, fucking you out of your brain repeatably.

"FUCK JAY ST-OP WA-it I need to process AHHHHH" You cry out an arousing guttering pleasure, his fatal pace making you dizzy each time he thrust his hip inside out of you, giving you no room to fight back for what you want.

*Always so good, M/N you're so fucking TIGHT just like yesterday 𝗡𝗴𝗵 𝗡𝗴𝗵 𝗡𝗴𝗵 yeah just like that, taking my cock so well, why is your damn body react to 𝗠𝗲 when you don't hah?" His voice was alluring inside the soundproof room, dangerously and full of lust beneath those sounds. At each of his moan instances he would be pounding on you with his powerful hip, your body would bouncing along with your dick too, the sticky wet precum jumping, as he abuse your pretty hole again.

Meanwhile, on the other hand, you were low-key enjoying it, his god damn cock just hit the right on your sweet spot, silence you from whining again when you feel like you seen a shooting star in the bright morning sky.

All at once, jolt hitting on, spread over all your body and system, signaling you would need to release soon but before you even react and inform Jay, he was one step ahead of you greatly, chasing for both sides climax.

"JAY please h-Harder I will...come soon ermm AH"

"wanna cum? Hah? As you wish my prince, but let's do it together shall we" growling darkly under his hitch breathless air suppliers, Jay picks up the pace already lost in the deep sea, fuck your ass in a motion you can't even catch up. As your body continues to wear thin, in one last forceful arching, Jay finds himself empty inside you, extremely.

"Holy my Father, SHIT SHIT SHIT—"

"FuCk EheH..."

Both bodies shudder, choke up for air, you finally spill on the floor with your clear liquid. Your legs shake uncontrollably, the black pupils were nowhere to be seen in your eyeball which explains how much this makes you feel.

Jay crumbles down with you in his arm still, flop down on the bed exhausted, nothing much different from how you experienced, while the pill of the aphrodisiac slowly wears off.

"I fucking knew it I figured it out now Jay, all because of that glass of water"

"I'm sorry I'm sorry"

Ps; Happy Halloween day y'all, I just want to thank you for 600 followers 🥹🫶🏻 it's a milestone for me mwah mwah.

[lloydskywalkers]

moats and boats and waterfalls

Read on AO3

Post-Crystalized — after surviving apocalypse no. 2 (possibly 3, currently under debate) the ninja now face the unspeakable horrors of budgeting.

(Years late to the Crystalized party but here's part one of my seven billion fanfics about this season because there are Thoughts to be had about this one)

As it turns out, rebuilding a monastery is a whole lot more trouble than rebuilding the Bounty for the eightieth time. 

And by trouble, Cole means incredibly expensive.

“Re-installing central heating costs what?!” 

Kai’s horrified cry reverberates throughout the half-constructed monastery, the echo from the noticeably empty rooms only adding to insult. 

Oh, what Cole would give to have his bed back. 

“I guess we’ll have to use you during the winter,” Nya sighs, patting Kai on the back. ���Lloyd, get ready to supercharge him.”

“Forget heating, do you know how much Wi-Fi costs?” Lloyd stares at the estimated summary like it’s personally kicked his pet. “Who even has that much money? God?”

“If god had money, he could’ve given Sensei Wu his inheritance and we’d all be loaded,” Jay mutters. “But noooo, ‘material possessions are the death of the soul’, blah blah blah, we’ll see whose soul is dead when the gas cuts out and he can’t make midnight tea anymore.” 

“It does seem a bit extreme, looking at it all like this,” Zane remarks. Somewhat ironically, as he’s taken one look at the bill then wisely retreated across the room. 

“Well, blowing up the entire monastery with us in it was extreme, so it figures repairs are just as bad,” Nya grumbles. 

They all shift, the mood dampening at the reminder. 

Lloyd opens his mouth. “I’m sor—”

“Do not,” Kai stabs a finger at him. “Even try.”

Lloyd slumps. “If I hadn’t gotten caught—”

“We all agreed to the plan, okay?” Cole says. “Also, no one knew we’d be sending you to Harumi, so the whole thing was doomed from the start.”

While he looks a bit miffed, Lloyd gives it up. Though perhaps that’s mostly in part because he desperately wants to avoid any more conversation about—

“So speaking of Harumi,” Jay starts. 

Lloyd springs for the window. 

Unfortunately for Lloyd, said window is currently boarded up by heavy-duty plywood, since quality window glass fell low on the list of priorities, which gives Kai plenty of time to tackle him before he can even raise his leg to kick it in. 

“No!” Zane cries. “We can’t afford anymore plywood!”

“Or like, Band-Aids at bare minimum, so don’t you dare!” Nya adds. 

“—overdramatic phase has gotta go, what are you, five — hey, no biting!”

Lloyd makes a muffled sound as he wrestles on the floor with Kai. Cole turns, very slowly, to glare at Jay.

“Oh come on, we were all thinking it,” Jay defends, reluctantly standing to help pry Lloyd from the floor. “Fine, hey, I promise we won’t talk about certain loser ex-princesses who are nice and cozy in their prison cells right now, okay? There, there, little gremlin, she can’t hurt you anymore—”

“I’ll bite you next,” Lloyd threatens, but he returns to his seat, wincing as Kai scuffs his hair. 

“Turn Oni again, and that might be an actual threat.”

Lloyd startles terribly, staring at Kai with wide eyes. “That’s — not — I wouldn’t—”

“Kai,” Nya hisses.

“Woah, hey, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” Kai says quickly. “It’s supposed to be positive reinforcement! Easing it into a normal thing, y’know?”

Lloyd growls. “Nothing about this is a normal thing—”

“Except none of us are normal, so therefore it is,” Kai interrupts him smoothly. “Also we already loved you when you were a tiny demon, turning into a literal one is nothing. Give us some credit.” 

Lloyd pulls his hood over his flaming face, thunking his head against the table. Kai pats him cheerfully on the shoulder. 

“Additionally, unless we can swindle someone by selling Lloyd in his Oni form on the black market for cold cash before stealing him back, I don’t see how this helps matters.”

Zane finds himself on the receiving end of five blank stares. Lloyd, successfully having been pulled from his hood, whistles. 

“I forget how evil you can be, sometimes.”

Kai gapes at him. “So that makes you feel better?”

“I mean, in terms of normalizing it—”

“Alright!” Cole slams his hands on the table, silencing them all. He glares them down. “Meeting room in five. We’re figuring out how to make this place livable if it kills us.”

There’s a brief silence, then Jay hesitantly raises his hand.

“Hey, so uh, we kinda don’t have a meeting room right now?”

Cole collapses on the table in despair. 

---

Twenty minutes and one session of shoving chairs into what could have been the living room later — it’s hard to tell, with all the construction markings and plywood still up — they’ve kicked off the official first meeting of the Finish-Making-the-Monastery-Livable plan. 

“Alright,” Lloyd announces, brushing his hands as he steps back from the chalkboard that may or may not have been stolen. “At the top of the list we have Wi-Fi, central air and heating, beds — huh, maybe those should go higher — running water, electricity — that one’s debatable, me and Jay can tag-team it if we get desperate — blankets-slash-pillows-slash-etcetera, stuff to cook with, actual food — y’know what, I’m putting that closer to the top—”

“So basically, we have nothing,” Cole says blankly. 

Lloyd glances at the list, then to the sliver of chalk left in his hands. “Uh. Yeah.” 

“Take the weaponry, sure, but all my albums?” Jay mourns. “I spent years collecting those.” 

“I lost the blanket we stole from that super fancy apartment we lived in for like five minutes when Lloyd was a kid,” Kai sighs. “That thing literally made it through the apocalypse, just to bite it now.” 

“Two apocalypses too many,” Nya says.

“Did the Preeminent count as an apocalypse? Like, a minor one?”

“Three apocalypses. It took three apocalypses to vaporize my closet,” Cole sinks lower in his seat. “Man, the hoodie you got me for my birthday was in there.” 

“All of our photographs are lost, too.” Zane stares at his hands. 

Lloyd murmurs something under his breath that sounds a lot like family pictures and figures. 

The mood plummets a bit more, after that. 

“Motherfu—”

“Alright, this isn’t helping,” Cole claps his hands. “We can all cry again later. Lloyd, overall mission status conclusion?”

“Well, like you said, we basically have nothing,” Lloyd sighs. “So unless Zane wants to stop chickening out and abandon his morals so we can just hack into everything and get it free, we need to find some way to pay for all this.”

“Again, I cannot hack in to rebuilding an entire cooling unit throughout the monastery, much less make the latest clothing line from Gucci materialize,” Zane says. Kai swears. “Also, that is called stealing.” 

“You call it stealing, I call it a charitable donation,” Nya says. “I turned into the ocean for this city, the least they can do is cut me a check.” 

“Besides, even if it is stealing, what are they gonna do, send us to jail again?” Jay scoffs.

Lloyd jabs the piece of chalk in his direction. “Don’t jinx us.” 

“Too bad we wasted our chance at crime and didn’t even get rich,” Kai mutters. “All we got was Nya.”

He yelps as she punches him in the arm. “What, too soon?”

“You should be so lucky to have me,” she sniffs. 

“Hey, but going on the donation thought train — do we know anyone who’s rich?” Jay asks. “Why don’t we have any rich friends?”

“Hey, you know what’s rich? That coming from the son of a billionaire.”

“Hey, you know what else got blown up? My inheritance!” 

“Please, let it go,” Zane says. “We do have rich friends, I’ll remind you, we’re friends with actual monarchy. But we can’t exactly go and ask anyone else for money, since they all already helped out so much in getting the monastery rebuilt.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence. Lloyd draws a little sad face on the chalkboard next to ASK FOR DONATIONS. 

“What if we just…sued Harumi,” Cole says. “Like, there’s gotta be some law that could work in our favor here.”

“I don’t think the court would go for that,” Lloyd mutters. “Since they’re all morally corrupt frauds who hate us.”

“Yeah! Down with the system!” Kai punches his fist in the air. 

“Also, Harumi likely has very little in the way of money, either,” Zane says. “Considering she blew up any and all assets she might have had claim to.”

“Haha, what a loser,” Nya crows.

“What if we sued Garmadon?” Cole tries. “The courts have to hate him more than they hate us.”

Lloyd scowls, scrawling a large NO on the chalkboard. “Not worth the effort. Plus, I’m pretty sure he’s still couch-surfing at Vinny’s, which means also penniless.”

“We could sue Kalmaar,” Nya cracks her knuckles.

“Isn’t he dead?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Nya looks disappointed. 

“Did anyone survive that we can sue successfully?” Jay muses. “And actually get money out of?”

“Vangelis,” Cole snaps his fingers. “Wait. No, we ousted him from the throne, so he’s probably broke too.”

“Vangelis survived?”

As they dissolve into bickering over the status of enemies potentially living-or-dead, Kai squints at the chalkboard, where Lloyd is still scratching out letters despite having completely lost the room. 

“We…are…fu—Lloyd!” 

“Well it’s true,” Lloyd huffs, finishing off his message with a flourish. “Tada. There’s my grand plan.”

“That’s not a plan, it’s a pessimistic estimation at how things are gonna go.”

“It’s extremely rude language, is what it is! I thought we taught you better.”

Lloyd simply looks pleased with himself at having recaptured the room’s attention. It is, of course, then that Sensei Wu walks into that room. He stops, looking from where they’re all frozen in place, then to the chalkboard. 

Lloyd pales. 

Sensei Wu pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closes his eyes. 

“My dearest nephew, you have three seconds to make that disappear, or I’ll be forced to—”

Lloyd springs for the chalkboard in record time, wiping frantically at his writing with the sleeve of his gi. 

“People would kill for that thing, and here he’s using it as a chalkboard eraser,” Jay mutters. 

It isn’t until later, when they’ve all retreated to the collective mass of blow-up mattress and borrowed blankets they’re calling a bedroom, that anyone breaches the topic again. 

There’s a loud rustling as Cole turns over where he’s precariously shoved between Kai and Zane. 

“…can we sue the mayor?”

There’s a noted pause of silence, only broken by the whirring of the cheap oscillating fan. 

“You know,” Zane says slowly. “In terms of slander and defamation…” 

An evil, sharp-toothed smile spreads across Lloyd’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

“Hey, let’s sue the new ninja, too,” Jay grins. “Can Pixal retroactively trademark our vibe?”

“You cannot sue them based on vibe appropriation.”

“Yeah, but I can sue them for impersonation.”

---

They cannot, as it turns out, sue the mayor, because legal work like that costs even more money. 

They can, however, ruin his year by filing (and forging) every possible insurance claim under the sun, so they all walk out of the office a little more satisfied than before. 

“I hope all your socks go missing in the laundry!” Nya yells toward the building as they hit the streets. “I hope you have a rock stuck in your shoe for the rest of your life! I hope you’re plagued with a mildly inconvenient headache every waking moment and never fully enjoy anything ever again!”

“Alright, alright, we’re getting looks,” Cole grabs her arm. “Let it go.”

“As much as I appreciate it, I am not going back to jail,” Jay shudders. “Twice was enough.”

Kai frowns. “Twice? When else did you get arrested?”

“We all did, re—” Jay cuts off, suddenly aware of the absolute daggers Nya is staring at him. “Uhhh…aw, snap, another mental breakdown, haha!”

“Is this the whole ‘we all have missing memories you guys are definitely hiding from us’ thing again? ‘Cause I swear—”

“I said I’m getting to it, it’s a really boring story anyways—”

“Didn’t you say you lost an eye—”

“Oh look, a window!”

This time, Jay is thwarted by Lloyd, who’s simply jumped out enough windows to recognize when someone’s about to try it themselves. Except Jay is aiming to jump inside a window this time, so they both go crashing into Pixal just as she joins them. 

To her credit, she barely flinches. “I thought I heard clown noises nearby.” 

Lloyd stares at her in such utter betrayal, the mental breakdown thing might become valid.  

“Pixal,” Jay simply begs. “Please. Help your clowns scavenge our clown dinners.”

Pixel surveys them all, a fond smile tugging at her lips. “There is a nice pizza place down the block.”

The cheers she’s met with nearly succeeded at knocking her over where Jay failed.  

Dinner that night comprises of actual, warm, take-out pizza, which nearly moves Cole to tears.

“Definitely changing the priorities order,” Lloyd says blissfully through a mouthful of cheese. “Food goes at the top, no questions.”

“Seconded,” Kai mumbles. 

“Thirded.”

“Fourthed.”

“I cannot believe, that after everything we’ve been through, we did not qualify for the post-apocalypse discount,” Zane bites out. 

“Well,” Jay says brightly. “Pixal hacked the card reader, so technically we got a hundred percent discount.”

Zane stares at her, in equally utter betrayal. “Pixal?”

She shrugs. “They can try to send me to prison. They will fail.” 

---

Two days later, Skylor cements herself as everybody’s most favorite person in the entire world by not only saving them from starvation by demanding they sit their butts down in the restaurant and eat for free, but also donating six pillows and a year’s worth of shampoo. 

“I know it’s not a lot, but I’m on the lookout for more,” she tells them. “I’ve asked other people to help chip in, too, so hopefully that’ll make things a little easier.”

“Skylor,” Cole nearly sobs into his new, beautiful pillow. “If Kai doesn’t marry you, I will.”

“H-hey!”

“No marriage necessary,” she snorts. “Consider keeping you all fed my way of saying thanks.”

“But you already helped out with the monastery,” Nya says, around the same time the rest of them assure her there’s no need for thanks, despite the fact that no one has the slightest desire to relinquish their food. 

“Fine, then,” Skyler huffs, her cheeks turning pink. “Make me say it out loud, will you — consider it my way of showing that I care about you all. Very much.” 

“Aww,�� Lloyd says. 

Kai makes a face somewhere between melting and heart eyes. 

“I hate all of you,” she mutters. 

“We love you too, Skylor,” Cole grins. 

“Hate you!”

Despite her words, they all leave with six boxes of leftovers and free dessert. 

This, of course, brings another slightly-pressing issue to mind.  

---

They end up getting a refrigerator for a steal of a bargain, which is probably again influenced by Pixal’s criminal extremely generous activity. 

Given how enthusiastic they all are about getting it installed, Kai is half-expecting there to be no work left for him at all by the time he returns from the food run. 

He’s…not entirely disappointed when he walks into the kitchen, though he is rather baffled. 

The room freezes as if on record-scratch. Jay is perched on top of the counters, Lloyd has a sledgehammer raised halfway in the air, and Cole is on the ground beside the refrigerator crying. 

“What?” Kai asks, blankly. 

“The fridge…doesn’t fit…” Cole moans into the floor. 

“We didn’t leave enough space between the cabinets,” Jay informs him through a mouthful of gummy worms. “So the door can’t open.”

Kai looks at Lloyd. “So the sledgehammer is for…?”

“DIY home improvement,” he shrugs.

“Huh.” Kai glances at the cabinets. “Put some safety goggles on first, okay?”

Lloyd only gets about two swings in before Zane descends with the all wrath of the Ice Emperor and adds to the tally of times-the- Green-Ninja-almost-met-his-doom, but it’s fun while it lasts. 

They were ugly cabinets, anyways. 

---

While his love for his family could potentially fuel a nuclear power plant, Kai does grow tired of being the living team space heater rather quickly. 

The effort of keeping his power going all night just gets annoying (and exhausting) — so by the time he’s tagged in Lloyd to use his power to keep him going, they’re up to two moody ninja short on sleep, and no one wants to deal with that. 

While they’ve scrounged up a few dollar-store quality blankets, Jay takes the opportunity to highlight his accomplishments in arts-and-crafts.

“You mean your mom’s accomplishments.”

“Hey, we made it together! It counts.”

The it in question quickly gains the name “god-awful-t-shirt-blanket” simply because the blinding combination of all their cast-off shirts sewn together is impressively terrible. 

“I still think this is a waste of good clothes,” Kai grumbles. “It’s not like we have outfits to spare these days, you know.”

“Do you wanna keep heating the room at night or no?” Nya threatens. 

Kai quickly shuts his mouth and returns to sewing Cole’s old plaid shirt to one of Jay’s neon blue shirts that features a dolphin printed in enough colors to kill a man. 

“So, what do we think?” Lloyd steps back, wiping at his forehead with his arm as he surveys their masterpiece. 

Staring at the multi-colored mess they’ve patched together into a quilt, Nya announces, “It’s the ugliest blanket I’ve ever seen.”

“Harsh.”

“Hey, we did our best!”

“See if I ever sew for you again,” Lloyd huffs. 

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing,” Nya quickly interjects. “It looks a little like us!”

“Are you saying we’re ugly?!”

“Nya, no, our family genes are enough to carry us through this, I promise—”

---

They’re in the middle of figuring out how to steal Wi-Fi from the government when Tox drops by, Karloff in tow. 

“You really…need…to get an elevator…or something,” she pants, red-faced and sweaty as she hauls several large bags behind her.

In contrast, Karloff looks unfazed, casually toting a hideously floral-patterned sofa over his shoulder. 

“Skylor mentioned you need furniture, no?” he says. “It’s not much, but you need somewhere to sit.”

“Karloff,” Jay tells him, very seriously. “This is the most beautiful sofa I’ve ever seen.” 

“Haha! Karloff is right once again,” he brags to Tox. 

Tox stares at Jay in flabbergasted despair. 

“You can’t put that in your home,” she mutters. “You can’t. It’s a crime against eyes everywhere.”

“Well, it’s better than no sofa, and we’re literally turning down nothing these days,” Nya says cheerfully. She leans over to peer at the bags Tox has managed to drag up. “Speaking of…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tox heaves the bags in front of her. “Skylor said you guys needed help interior decorating? So I brought a couple rugs. She also mentioned something about the ugliest blanket she’s ever seen, so we called up some of the other Elemental Masters and got like, six or seven together. They’re not exactly works of art, but they’re okay?”

Kai tears open the first bag, his eyes lighting up. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “Hey, guys, we got blankets! Dibs on the one with a wolf.”

“Oh, no, not that one, it’s from my awful middle school phase—”

“What do you mean, dibs, I want the wolf one!”

“Oh yeah? Down to fight for it?”

“You’re on. Training ground in five.”

“Absolutely not, we are not fighting over a blanket we’ve been so generously gifted,” Zane snaps, snagging Kai and Cole by their collars. 

“Yeah, we also don’t really have a training ground anymore,” Lloyd says, half-buried in a blanket embroidered with countless bug-eyed fish. “It went ka-boom.”

Nya rubs her temples. “Zane?”

“Already factored into the expenses,” he sighs. 

“Oh wow, you guys weren’t kidding,” Tox says. “Do you want, uh, like a keychain? I have some mints here too I can donate…man, Karloff, help me out!” 

“Does the monastery need a metal helmet?”

“We’re really not that broke,” Nya says hastily, pushing away the offered mints. “But thanks.”

“Speak for yourself.” Lloyd snags the mints, clasping his hands together in prayer at Tox before slipping back into the emerging blanket battle. 

Nya sighs. “Do you guys want tea? We’ve got three whole mugs, now.”

Tox glances from the other ninja, where Jay has been successfully rolled into a blanket burrito and is in potential danger of being rolled right down the mountain, to Karloff, who’s the reason said danger is potential. 

“We can spare a minute, I guess.”

The t-shirt blanket is later relegated to the living room, where it lives as a throw blanket over Karloff’s floral sofa. They unanimously decide it’s the perfect home for it, and the only real critic is Skylor, who’s almost reduced to tears the next time she visits. 

---

They celebrate their achievement of having a living room by all eating dinner on Karloff’s floral-patterned couch. This comes with a good deal of kicking and squirming and the tragic loss of Kai’s fortune cookie, but they make it work. 

“This is kind of depressing, though. Sitting in the dark,” Nya remarks. 

A muscle in Jay’s jaw twitches. “Well, maybe if someone hadn’t melted all our candles—”

“You were the one who had the brilliant idea of trying to barbecue with them, genius!” Kai snaps. 

“It was a pretty spectacular fire,” Lloyd admits. Then, hastily, “In a really cool way!” 

“Perhaps a lamp should go next on the list,” Zane says. “Rather than relying on Kai as our light.”

“Hey, I’m a great light,” Kai scowls. “I’m the light of your life. I could light this place up all day!” 

“Yes, and I’m sure it would end similarly to the time you nearly burned down a building under the belief that you were achieving your true potential, but were, in fact, just dehydrated.”

Kai gapes at Zane in betrayal. “You said you’d take that to the grave!” 

Zane carefully laces his fingers together. “Technically, I did.”

“No you didn’t!” Jay interjects. “We never buried you, so you never had a grave! Ha!”

Zane looks affronted. “I didn’t get a grave?”

“You got a statue!” Kai quickly consoles . 

“Yeah, what’d you want us to do, pick your exploded pieces out of the street for half a year then toss ‘em in the ground?”

“Oh, as if that’s any worse than being left to pour your corpse out in cups of water.”

 “It wasn’t my corpse, I was still alive!”

“You were the literal ocean. Fish swam in you.” 

“Ew, does that mean—”

“Finish that sentence and I will drown you where you stand—”

“You’re all in desperate need of counseling,” Pixal mutters. 

“Tell me about it,” Lloyd says, leaning back on the armrest of the sofa. 

Cole shakes his head. “Lost causes, all of them.”

Pixal stares at them both, expression pinched, before deciding to respect the hopelessness of lost causes. 

“Hold on, I think Kai’s crying,” Lloyd moves to sit up, only to wobble, slip sideways, and go crashing to the floor gracelessly.  

“Just like when I fell to my doom off the Bounty,” Cole reminisces.  

 Pixal’s eyes glaze over. 

---

Later that evening, Pixal adds “therapy” to the list of potential expenses on the fridge door. Regretfully, it loses miserably in the debate against hot shower expenses, so it too joins the pile of repressed memories that will undoubtedly haunt them in the future. 

“But hey, a hot shower can cure depression on a good day,” Cole says, and that settles that. 

---

Hot showers, as it turns out, are a hard-won priority. 

It’s less so after Jay, Nya, and Pixal camp out overnight near the pipeline and perform their own less-than-legal maintenance, but one of Zane’s carefully filed insurance claims actually went through the other day, so they’re taking their luck as they can. 

It’s not until they get working on the bathroom itself that the true difficulty makes itself clear. 

“Hey, uh,” Kai stares down at the patch of rotted floor he’s ripped up, wiping at the fog that’s spread across his safety goggles. “Is the base layer supposed to look like that?”

“Look like what?” Cole abandons the tiling he’s been placing to glance over. His face drops. “Uh-oh.” 

“Is that all black mold?” Nya gags, nearly dropping her bottle of cleaning bleach.  

“FSM, no wonder we’re all crazy,” Cole mutters. 

“Alright,” Kai strips off his rubber gloves. “Nothing for it. Back up, guys, I’m barbecuing this baby.”

“Wait wait wait don’t—”

Ten minutes and a good deal of hacking and wheezing through teary eyes later, Cole murders Kai while they all look on. 

Well, he attempts to.

“You filled the monastery with chlorine gas, you absolute moron—!”

“How was I supposed to know that would happen, I’m not a chemist—”

Nya glares ahead darkly as Lloyd gingerly treats the reddened blisters on her hands. 

“None of you,” Zane says, through gritted teeth. “Are touching cleaning chemicals for a year.” 

---

“Not sure I wanna know how you pulled off poisoning yourselves, but I’m kinda impressed you did a better job of it than most criminals would,” Ronin tells them, once the monastery has been successfully de-chlorinated and the bathroom tiles firmly put in place, sans black mold. 

“Maybe we can hire ourselves out to them when we’re strapped for cash,” Nya sighs.

“We’re literally always strapped for cash. We’re broke.”

Ronin laughs, clapping Jay on the back. “Welcome to adulthood, kid.”

“I don’t think normal adulthood gets their home blown up on a regular basis,” Lloyd hisses.

“Fair point,” Ronin nods. 

“Well, thanks for saving us all from a slow and painful death,” Cole scrubs his hands over his face. “We can pay you back sometime in the next century. Maybe.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Ronin waves them off. “It’d be like kicking a dog when it’s down, askin’ you all to pay. Besides, I probably owe you one.”

“You sure do,” Jay glares. 

“Hey, hey, I said I was sorry for the whole human sacrifice thing,” Ronin placates. “Want some good news, at least?”

“Is it actually good news?” Lloyd eyes him shrewdly.

“Lighten up, captain trust issues.” Kai barely snags Lloyd before he lands himself back in jail. “I looked into some more of those insurance claims you filed, and you actually got somethin’ out of it. I, uh, helped the bank along a bit, with the refund.”

“Bank?” Cole whispers.

“Refund?” Jay’s eyes shine. 

“Yeah, got you all your checks right here,” Ronin says, tugging six neat envelopes from his jacket. “Just don’t blow ‘em all at once, okay? Haha.”

Zane looks as if he might propose to him on the spot. 

“Hey, this isn’t too bad!” Kai exclaims. “We got money!”

“Guys,” Lloyd says, staring at his check. “You know we should probably pool all this together and spend it on necessities, right?”

“Yeah,” Cole sighs. 

“It would be the smartest course of action,” Zane adds. 

There’s a noted silence.

“Or,” Lloyd says. 

---

In their defense, they spend exactly two-thirds of their checks on household items. 

Whether or not these are needed household items remains a debate. 

“If we’re all buying lamps for the living room, can we at least attempt to match?” Zane sighs. 

“Booo, where’s your joy and whimsy?” Jay sticks out his tongue. 

“That isn’t even a lamp, it’s a light-up axolotl.”

“The heck’s an axo-lot—”

“It lights up, doesn’t it? Ergo, it’s a lamp.”

“Ergo, what are you, Sensei Wu—”

“We’re never having guests over again,” Cole remarks, as Lloyd and Nya maneuver a five-foot-tall rendition of Godzilla into the shopping cart that may or may not light up. 

“The monastery’s gonna look rad as heck, we’re forcing everyone to come over and look at it,” Kai corrects as he tosses a set of flame-patterned curtains into the mess. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“I actually might like them,” Zane muses. “They would capture the energy of our kitchen perfectly.”

Kai beams. “Flame curtains are a go!” 

In the aftermath, they total around six individual blankets, five mismatching lamps and one light-up axolotl, a table that no one knows how to put together, one set of flame-patterned curtains, another hideous couch, and enough cutlery and kitchenware that no one has to eat out of Sensei Wu’s incense bowls anymore. 

“Alright,” Lloyd says. “We’ve got three hours until the stores start closing. Everyone take the rest of your checks, don’t think about how much of a disaster the monastery still is, and start thinking about how valid retail therapy is.” 

“Aye-aye,” Kai salutes, before immediately booking it for the clothing outlets. 

---

Three hours later, Kai’s happily blown his entire check on a new wardrobe and exactly one pair of name-brand brand shoes. He’s unreasonably proud of himself for his restraint, until he catches Cole with three pairs of his own name-brand shoes, and immediately regrets being responsible. 

He spots Jay going off in the N-Pop section of a music store, Nya investing in a sinfully-priced espresso machine, and Zane walking toward the clothing outlets himself with a high-quality pair of noise-cancelling headphones. 

He doesn’t find Lloyd until well after he’s picked up his own clothes, already sporting an oversized hoodie he could’ve just stolen from Kai. 

He’s more concerned when Lloyd proceeds to blow the last of his check at the sporting goods section of the local convenience store. Considering how long Lloyd spent looking wistfully at the candy aisle, Kai is baffled by the decision. 

He’s even more baffled when Lloyd proceeds to box up his purchase for delivery instead of keeping it himself.

He’s utterly horrified when he sees who it’s addressed to.

“Are you serious?!” he asks shrilly, torn between ripping the box from Lloyd’s hands or immediately calling the mental health hotline. “You’re sending her gifts?”

“It’s not a gift, it’s — look, it’s a long story, you wouldn’t get it,” Lloyd grumbles, plastering another layer of duct tape over the box. “Just help me deliver it to Kryptarium and I’ll show you, okay?”

Kai very much does not help, because he’s not an enabler and he cares about his brother’s mental health, but he does follow Lloyd to Kryptarium Prison and lurk behind him as he eagerly watches the surveillance screens. 

Harumi stares at the box before her, looking every bit as baffled as Kai is. 

“Who would send me a volleyball—”

She freezes, her face going utterly blank. A muscle in her jaw twitches. 

There’s a brief flash of what could be amusement, a brief expression as if she’s eaten something sour, then a fury like no other eclipses her face. 

“LLOYD! I’LL KILL YOU MYSELF, YOU THINK YOU’RE HILARIOUS—”

Lloyd’s still laughing by the time they’re escorted from the premises, hard enough that Kai has to catch him when he trips at the top of the steps. 

“What’d you even write on the note?” Kai finally asks, a bit in awe. 

Lloyd grins. “I told her good luck getting together her villainous volleyball team in jail.”

Kai blinks. “Do I…want to know?”

“Nope!” Lloyd says airily. “But I’ve made my point.”

---

Regardless of some behaviors, the mental health hotline remains a constant idea. It simply happens to come up at inconvenient times, such as when Cole drops a dresser on his foot halfway across the courtyard. 

He swears so loudly the whole monastery echoes with it. 

“Oh geez, Cole, are you okay? Why’d you lift the whole thing on your own?”

“We could have helped,” Zane rushes over. “You don’t have to do it all yourself—”

“Yes I do!” Cole yells. “I’m stronger than that, I’m supposed to be stronger, I have to be stronger or you’re all going to die next time—”

He cuts off abruptly. Zane looks heartbroken. Jay—

Is suddenly busy smacking Cole upside the head. 

“No, you don’t!” he snaps back, even louder. “You don’t have to do it by yourself! None of you do! Every time anyone tries to do something by themselves it all goes wrong and we lose someone, so we’re never — doing that — again!” 

He seizes Cole around the arms, his wild eyes meeting Cole’s wide ones. “No one blames you for the stupid tunnel. I don’t care how strong you are. We’re all here and that’s what matters, so don’t you dare put that at risk.”

“But I—”

“No.”

“Jay, I—”

“No.”

“I—”

“No!” A manic expression overtakes Jay’s face. “No, no, no! No one’s taking the blame. No one’s isolating themselves. No. One. Is. Going. Off. Alone. You hear me?!” 

The others are frozen, halfway outstretched hands caught as if suspended in ice. Kai’s expression is twisted painfully. Lloyd’s eyes are on the ground. Zane is as frozen as the metaphorical ice, and Nya looks devastated. 

“No more being alone,” Jay says, the fire in his voice giving way to something wetter and considerably more sniffly. “No more. Don’t — you can’t—”

“Okay,” Cole whispers. He carefully takes Jay’s hands from his shoulders, grasping them in his own instead. “Okay. No more going at it alone. I promise.”  

 The monastery courtyard seems a little colder, in the silence.  

“Anyone feel like circling back to the whole ‘suing Harumi’ idea?” Kai finally speaks up. 

Jay gives a wet snort. 

“Well, we’re probably gonna need to afford tissues,” Lloyd says. His own voice isn’t exactly dry, either. 

---

The downside to sticking therapy smack at the bottom of their priorities is that they all really are, in fact, not okay. 

Most of the time, they manage. 

There’s a solace in being together, a comfort in having the people you trust and care for most in the world right next to you when the nightmares get bad. When Jay awakens screaming for Nya or clutching at his throat for air, Nya is already holding his hand and Cole’s holding the rest of him.

When Zane lapses into silence too long, emotions a roiling mess that leave him paralyzed, Kai is there with one-two-three’s for breathing and Lloyd is there to draw little cats with him until the world subsides again. 

When Cole’s eyes shadow in training and his hits grow wild, Zane is there to pin him before he bloodies his hands and Jay is there to sing horrible off-key songs he loves until the panic ebbs.

When Nya stares at the water too-long, her eyes misty and her expression dreamy, Jay is there to hold her tight and Kai is there to talk until his voice goes hoarse and hers returns. 

There are other times, though, when it’s harder. 

It hits Kai this time about halfway through painting the walls of the kitchen a cheerful yellow, said paint splattered up to his elbows, courtesy of Lloyd. He glances down — to joke, to laugh, to not think—

And pauses. With the headband he’s stolen from Pixal in place, pushing back the mass of thick blond hair, Kai can just see the purple-red edges of the swollen, irritated wounds that scar Lloyd’s scalp. The twin marks are a better sight than when Kai first glimpsed them, bleeding circles that looked as if someone had drilled into Lloyd’s skull — but not by much. 

“S’fine,” Lloyd mutters, catching Kai’s devastated expression. “I can’t even feel ‘em. Not really.”

“Liar,” Kai rasps. “They look awful.”

Lloyd makes a face. “Gee, thanks a lot.”

“I mean it. What if they get infected, or worse, or — have you had Sensei look at them?”

Lloyd wraps his arms around himself, avoiding Kai’s eyes. “No. I didn’t really…I did what he asked. What they both did. And then screwed the whole thing up, so it was all useless anyways, so I—”

He bites his lip, hard enough to crack the already dry skin. 

“I don’t really wanna hear anyone telling me what else I’m doing wrong with myself, right now.” 

Kai is angry enough to feel sick. 

“That’s stupid. That’s so stupid, he should — it shouldn’t be like that, it’s — why didn’t anyone—” he shakes his head. “Why doesn’t anyone ever ask us if we wanna be — if we wanna—”

Lloyd’s hand closes around his wrist, gently tugging Kai’s own hand from where it’s clawed unconsciously at his arm, leaving ugly red stripes against his skin. 

“You asked,” he says, quietly. “That meant a lot.”

Kai looks away. “Lot of good it did.”

Lloyd’s grip tightens. “It meant the world to me,” he repeats, stronger this time. 

“But I couldn’t—!”

Lloyd abandons his hold on his wrist to wrap his arms around Kai entirely, holding tight. Bony and strong and familiar, Kai’s little brother to the core. 

“Thank you,” he says, fervently enough that Kai can feel the ache in his voice. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

Kai’s voice is a miserable mess of fought-back tears. “I couldn’t even do anything.” 

“You asked me what I wanted,” Lloyd says once again, and Kai can hear the edge of tears threatening his voice, now. “That was everything.” 

Giving in, Kai drops his head into the mess of blond curls and hugs Lloyd back. Lloyd’s hair smells like blood and paint and steel and the strawberry shampoo Skylor gave them, and now it’s gonna smell like Kai’s stupid snot and tears. 

“Hey, having another hug party without me is lame.” 

Kai gives a wet, broken response as Nya throws her arms around them both. 

“Idiots,” she murmurs, resting her head atop theirs. “I love you both, you know that?”

“Ew, gross,” Lloyd snorts wetly. “Hey Kai, Nya loves us.”

“Little jerk, who you callin’ gross? And here I thought you loved us too.” 

“Well obviously I love you guys back, who’s the idiot now—”

Kai simply clutches them both and cries harder, as if holding onto them will stop himself from falling apart.

It works, in the ways that matter, though it’s always because they’re holding back even tighter. 

Later that evening, Zane bathes Lloyd’s head in antiseptic and Jay forces them all to sit through the PowerPoint presentation he’s made with Nya titled “Every Super Cool Totally Good Character with Horns Ranked”. He loses them the minute he brings anime characters into it, as everyone suddenly develops incredibly passionate opinions about the rankees, but Lloyd’s laughing too hard to have his own opinion and Kai doesn’t feel like he’s drowning under inadequacy anymore — just choking to death under the weight of Jay’s elbow for daring to insult Re:Zero as an anime “since it actually has Oni in it, idiot, your opinion is trash—” 

They get things back to being okay, one way or another. 

---

Somewhere in the third month of renovations, they finally scrounge up six whole beds. It takes a good deal of dragging and cursing, but they finally manage to move into their own rooms, the once-empty spaces looking a little less lonely. 

“Now we don’t have to all sleep together in the same room anymore,” Jay announces. There’s no small amount of celebration at that.

The celebration lasts up until sometime around three in the morning, at which point the  consistent nightmares land them all right back in the pile of communal air mattresses. 

“Just for like, one more night,” Kai yawns, as Lloyd curls closer beneath his arm. 

“Totally, yeah,” Nya echoes, one leg spread across Jay, her arm sprawled over Kai. 

“Go to sleep already, FSM’ sake,” Cole begs, before slumping over Zane. 

For all Cole’s begging, he’s still the first to act when Zane suddenly lurches up from the bed, gasping for air like he’s drowning and giving them all joint heart attacks. 

“—hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just us—”

Cole’s hands hover, non-threatening, as Zane buries his face in his palms, breathing ragged. The others have begun to get up now as well, the slow kind of approach that lets Zane know exactly where each of them are. 

“I despise this,” Zane spits, as his hand drags down to fist over his chest. “I hate feeling like this. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it—”

“I know,” Cole says. “I know.”

“This is why — it’s so much easier—“

“It’s okay, it’s—”

“It is not! I do not need to breathe, and yet I can’t!” Zane bursts out, frustrated and frightened. “I’m not supposed to break down like this, I do not, I do not—”

“You’re not a machine,” Cole says steadily. “You get to break down.” 

“But if I—”

“You don’t,” Lloyd murmurs. “You don’t have to turn ‘em off, Zane. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” 

Zane’s head lowers, his eyes shadowed. “It wouldn’t hurt,” he says, but it’s reluctant. 

“Yeah, you’d never hurt, but you’d never be happy, either,” Kai says. “And that’d suck.”

“It’d suck for us, too,” Cole speaks up. “We’d have to live without your laugh. Without your sassy remarks. Without your kindness.”

“We’d live without you,” Lloyd says, quietly. “And you wouldn’t really be living, would you?”

Zane crumples, his shoulders shaking as he allows Kai to pull him close. 

“If it gets too much, just come to us,” Jay says. “We’ll be more, okay? We’re pretty good at that.”

Zane gives a wet, stifled laugh. 

“Don’t go, even if it’s just your emotions leaving,” Nya murmurs, her head against his. “It isn’t worth it.”

With slowing shudders, Zane lets himself relax, the warmth of their little family pressing around him. Kai is an immovable barrier at his side, save for where Lloyd’s tucked beneath his arm. Jay’s legs tangle with Lloyd and Cole’s, his hand held tightly in Nya’s.  

“Leaving isn’t worth it,” Nya echoes. “Not in any lifetime.”

---

Bit by bit, the monastery comes together. 

The smell of new paint gives way to a familiar scent of mixing elements and laundry soap, one that’s followed them since the first Bounty. They comb through every online shop until they find the exact brand of sheets that feel like the first apartment they ever lived in together. Thrift shops and sales and birthdays stock closets once again, new hoodies that are quickly stolen and passed back and forth. The collection of CD’s and movies rebuilds into stacks once again through shared movie nights and pirated music.

And little by little, with the consistent passage of time, photographs line the walls of the monastery once again.

 A little older, a little worn, but a collection of family all the same. 

---

“Except we still don’t have damn central heating—” 

“Suck it up and light the fireplace, hothead.” 

“No respect in this city. None at all.” 

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Fuzzy Socks

Stepdad Negan x Fem! Reader

Word Count - 5200k

Warnings- Stepcest (if you don’t like it then please don’t read), age gap, Negan doesn’t meet reader before she’s 18, female bodied reader but no physical description of reader, smut, talk of feelings, mentions and descriptions of sex. Daddy kink, 18+ only please, toxic mother, Negan is a sweetheart in this despite the topic.

————————————————————

“I’m leaving” your mom announces coldly, abruptly disrupting your otherwise quiet dinner. You turn to her in shock, “What do you mean you’re leaving mom?” You were so confused, this was so out of the blue, did she mean on a trip? Or for the evening? Or did she mean forever? You weren’t ready to up and leave your life once again. You thought she was happy here, she seemed happier than previously. But she’d unfortunately always had a habit of this, she would find a man, settle down, then get cold feat and run away again, taking you from whatever school, friends and life you’d settled into and rerouting your whole life once again to a new town, usually hundreds of miles away.

But she’d married Negan, we’ve been here for three years now. Usually she’d leave within eight months. “Mom?” You nudge. “I’m leaving here, I’m not happy anymore. And I can no longer pretend that I am. I’m sorry Negan but I am leaving and I need a divorce.” She explained. All the while you sat there in total stunned silence, how could she do this to Negan? He was amazing, he was kind, funny, gorgeous, would do anything to help anyone. This didn’t make any sense! You looked over at Negan trying to gage his reaction but to your surprise he looked as if he’d seen this coming. “Mom please, don’t make me leave again I’m settled here, I have less than a year left of college, It would mess everything up, you’ve seemed happy here.” You plead.

“Oh no I’m not taking you this time honey, you’re twenty one now, you’re not a child anymore. I don’t have to take you with me. You can stay here, can’t she Negan?” Your mother assumed. Negan instantly nodded his head, “Of course she can, I’m not going to throw her out onto the streets am I? I vowed to take care of her, of both of you but apparently those vows mean nothing to you!” He argued. There was no way he’d let you leave anyway, you were doing well here and he wanted you to finish your degree, he’d grown very fond of you, loved you even. You were everything your mother was not, you were loyal and passionate, you were sweet, you put others before yourself. You were the single best thing that had ever happened to him. Even if his love for you had somewhat shifted into something else, something he couldn’t admit even to himself let alone out loud.

But he’d seen this coming. Over the last year your mother had grown distant, refusing any form of physical contact, and staying ‘out with friends’ more and more, staggering through the door again at 6:30am hoping no one noticed, but Negan did. He noticed the bed dip in the early morning as she tried and failed to crawl into bed quietly, he noticed the subtle smell of another man’s aftershave, clung to her body. All the while she thought she was being sneaky, that her secret was still hidden. But she showed no guilt, no remorse for cheating constantly, she didn’t care, and it was obvious to Negan that you were on the lower list of her priorities too.

Her words stung, you couldn’t lie and say they didn’t. All these years she just towed you with her because she had too? Did you really mean so little to her? You didn’t think you really wanted the answer to that question. So you swallowed any response down and just nodded, hanging your head low to hide the pain that was surely written all over your face.

This broke Negan’s heart, how could your mother be so cruel towards you? You’d been nothing but a kind and dutiful daughter. He wouldn’t sit here any longer watching you be hurt by her heartless words. “Fine, I’m taking Y/N out for a couple of hours, when we arrive home I expect you and your things to be gone!” He declares, standing up and collecting the dirty plates, bringing them into the kitchen. You look over at him in confusion, “Come on sweetheart lets go do something while your mother clears herself out of our lives.” He nudges you softly, his voice calm and sweet towards you.

Standing up from the table you nod at him, “I hope you find what you’re looking for mom” you speak, trying your best to keep your voice steady. “I will don’t worry, I’m free now” she responds, gleeful glint in her eyes. “Oh Negan, here” she calls, before handing him divorce papers, he looks them over, shockingly she wants nothing but the sports car he’d spent the last two years restoring. Did he love the car, yes. But he loved you more. “That’s fine” he sighs, before signing the papers and handing them back to her. Walking over to the entrance hall he grabs the keys to the car, throwing them over to you mum. “It’s all yours, take it and your belongings and go!” He growls.

“What no! Negan you love that car, you’ve spent years working on it.” You worry. “It’s fine Darlin’ we can find another to work on yeah?” He offers, you nod meekly. Your mum never deserved this man.

He grabs the keys to his truck and nudges you out the house, closing the car door you sigh as Negan puts the keys in the ignition, “Where do you wanna go sweetheart? We can go to the movies? Go get icecream? Or we can go for a walk in the park? It’s your choice.” Negan offers, “A walk sounds nice” you reply with small smile. This was much harder on you than it was for him. He hates to see you so sad, so he decides right then that he will make sure you never feel sad like this again, he will do everything in his power to make sure the light of his life is happy.

“Park it is then” he hums before starting the engine.

________________________________________

Arriving back home felt weird, she was gone. The car and all her stuff too, “You alright sweetheart?” Negan asks. “Yeah I will be, it’s just hard to come to terms with the fact she never really wanted me, you know?”, Negan gives you a look of understanding, pulling you into a tight hug. “Your always wanted here ok?” He assures you, kissing the top of your head. You take in his comfort, drink it in like a hot cocoa on a winters day. Getting lost in his scent of old spice and woodsmoke. He felt like home, warm and inviting after a long day in the cold. Feelings stir up in your stomach, ones you’ve tried to bury, you’ve always thought your stepdad was handsome, it would be ridiculous to say otherwise, but your feelings ran deeper than just finding the man attractive.

Pulling away he clears his throat “Let’s get some sleep yeah? We can figure the rest of it out tomorrow.” He suggests, “Yeah ok, tomorrow” you smile at him, causing his heart to jump in his chest, he loved it when you smiled.

Once in your room, you thought over the nights events. You’d always known your mother was selfish but you hadn’t realised she was this cruel. Negan had explained to you on your walk, that she had been cheating on him for a long time now. You could never understand how someone could have a man like Negan and cheat on him! If he was yours you’d hold onto him and never let him go, you’d treat him how he deserves, love him how he deserves. ‘God what are you thinking!’ You scold yourself, he’s your stepdad! You need to get a grip, he’d never look at you in that way, he’s taken you on as his kid, not as a potential lover.

“Argh” you groan at yourself, throwing your body onto your bed in exasperation. These feelings were complicated not to mention forbidden, and the thought of that shouldn’t excite you the way it does. You cannot think like that, it’s a recipe for disaster and heartbreak, he’d be disgusted. You need to let your silly little girl fantasies go, and be realistic. Pulling the comforter over you, you allow your thoughts to shift as fall into a deep sleep.

Across the hall though, Negan is laying in his empty bed thinking about you. The way your hair smelt, the way your body melded into his own. He wonders how soft your skin would feel against his, how warm your neck would be as he nuzzled into it, placing warm kisses down your throat. What noises he could pull from you, would you moan out his name as you found your high? Hips rolling frantically into his own.

Negan felt his cock stir in his pyjama pants begging for friction, ‘fuck it’ he thinks as he traces his hand down his stomach and into his pants. His large hand wrapping around his aching member, smearing the pre cum over his hand as he uses it as lube.

Biting down on his bottom lip to cover his moans, he begins frantically tugging up and down chasing his release. He should be disgusted with himself as he pleasures himself to thoughts of you, his own stepdaughter who is innocently sleeping across the hall. But he can’t allow himself to care any longer, he’s desperate, bucking his hips to meet his hand, with a low groan he reaches his climax, thick spurts covering his hand and lower stomach.

Catching his breath he pulls himself up, moving to his bathroom to clean himself. Intrusive thoughts begin as guilt starts seeping in, what was he doing? He sighs running his hands through his hair, He decides to put it down to over a year of no sex, that’s what’s causing it, it must be.

He’d tell himself that he wouldn’t pleasure himself to the thought of you again, but he knows it’s a lie. He’s started his decent into the deep end now, and there’s no turning around.

________________________________________

The next morning you awaken to the smell of pancakes and sweet sugary syrup. You get yourself ready quickly and bound down the stairs. Upon entering the kitchen you see breakfast all laid out for you, “Wow! This looks great Negan, you didn’t have to go all out”. You say, but the grin on your face was all he needed to decide he most certainly did need to. “That’s ok sweetheart I wanted too, coffee is in the jug” he points over to the coffee machine. You mutter a thanks, grabbing yourself a mug of the steaming liquid.

Breakfast goes by without a hitch, it was easy talking to Negan, but then you both always chatted over breakfast. Usually while your mother slept upstairs, tired from her late night gallivants.

“I’m going out with Lacey today, girls day to you know cheer me up.” You mention. “I think that’s a great idea sweetheart, you take as much time as you need. Just let me know if you’ll be home for dinner or not.” He offers.

“Ok will do, promise.” You respond, standing up and giving him a quick kiss to the cheek, before clearing your place and heading out. He watches you leave, his hand tracing his cheek, where he can still feel the remainder of your gentle kiss. He groans loudly to himself, he needs to clear his mind. So he decides to busy himself with house chores and DIY projects that needed doing. With your mother gone he could do as he pleases, finally finishing house projects the way he wants too.

But he speeds through them, finishing the last project he had on his list by early afternoon. Glancing over at the clock, he takes in the time. 2pm is that all? He probably still has ages until you come home, maybe some ‘alone’ time wouldn’t hurt? He has time doesn’t he? Nudging his bedroom door too, he strips down to his boxers before getting comfortable on his bed.

Closing his eyes he imagines a woman above him, as his hand slowly glides down into his boxers, he imagines her breathy moans as she rides him. Starting slow at first carefully rolling her hips, then speeding up as her hips collide into his own.

He imagines moving her hair out of her face, your face, the face he loves looking back at him as you continue to bounce on his lap. “Fuck” he moans, getting lost in the pleasure.

________________________________________

You’d had a lovely time with Lacey, you’ve been shopping, finding some cute autumn outfits and adorable fuzzy socks, you’d even found a pair for Negan. But after having a wonderful lunch out, you were ready to come home, it’s been an emotional rollercoaster this weekend and you wanted to curl up with a good book, wear your new fuzzy socks and drink a steaming mug of pumpkin spice cocoa.

Entering the house everything was incredibly quiet, there was no sign of Negan anywhere. “Hello?” You call out, seemingly to no one as it appears the house is empty. Looking out the front window you see Negan’s truck. ‘How odd’ you think, maybe he’s in the garden? So you wonder out the back, but still no sign of him.

You place your bags down onto the dining room table and kick off your shoes, padding up the stairs you hear a groan. ‘Oh yeah he said about doing some DIY projects, sounds like he’s struggling a bit’ you think. Maybe you should offer some help? Your self care plans can wait a little while.

That’s when you hear your name “Y/N fuck” he groans, he’s obviously heard you come in and needs help, shit you hope he hasn’t hurt himself. But as you quickly charge into his room you stop frozen in your tracks. There laying back on his bed is Negan, hand wrapped around his member, frantically moving it up and down all while moaning your name. He hadn’t even heard you bound into his room, seemingly still locked in his little fantasy.

“Negan?” You whimper, you’d meant to sound more firm but you really don’t know how to feel right now. Your shocked, confused, churned up and turned on all at the same time.

Just after you call out his name his eyes tear open in shock, hastily he pulls the cover over himself before rambling. “Fuck sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you come in”.

You nod still absolutely frozen in place, “You said my name, I thought you needed help, you know with the DIY projects. You sounded in pain I thought you’d hurt yourself. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have just came in”. You mumble. He carefully gets up from his bed, sheet wrapped around the middle, “You have nothing to be sorry for Darlin’ this is completely my fault. I’m so sorry sweet girl, I never wanted you to find that out, especially not this way.” He groans running a shaky hand through his hair, he watches your face looking for any clue on how you felt, but you just look so confused.

He slowly takes a step towards you, as to not scare you away. When you don’t run for the door he closes the gap pulling you into his arms. He feels terrible, you must feel so betrayed, he has no clue how to make this up to you? Maybe you’d want to leave, go live with your grandparents or your aunt and uncle. You had a decent relationship with the rest of your family, it was just your mother who was the issue.

He was stuck in this inner turmoil, not knowing what to do for the best. Maybe he shouldn’t even be cuddling you right now, but he needed the comfort too. You on the other hand were still so confused, did this mean he loved you like you loved him? Did he feel the same way or was this a one time fantasy? You needed to know either way.

Pulling back you ask “Why were you saying my name?” You frown, “I think you know why sweetheart, I don’t think there’s any hiding it now” he sighs. “What I mean is, umm is this a one time fantasy Negan or do you have feelings for me?” You ask.

“Does it really matter Darlin?” He asks, because he’s betrayed you either way, no matter what now you will be uncomfortable being here.

“Yes!” You all but shout, “It does matter Negan, it matters to me, so please tell me which it is.” You demand, trying your best to keep your voice unwavering.

Negan lets out a long sigh, nodding as he sits back on the end of his bed. He runs his large hand down his face before answering, “I love you, I am in love with you sweetheart and I know this means you’ll need to leave now and I’m so sorry because I said you can stay here, and you can! But I doubt you want to after all this.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, before smiling down at him. Leaving him just as confused as you were five minutes ago, “Why are you smiling Darlin, this isn’t right I’ve betrayed you in every way I” he was cut off by your lips crashing into his, as you slot your body between his legs. It takes him a second to catch up, but then he melts into you pulling you closer and onto his lap, hooking your legs around his back.

Pulling back to catch your breath you give him what he’s needed for so long, “I love you too Negan, I always have. I was so jealous that mom met you first, because she had the only thing I ever wanted. You.”

This time it was him that pulls you in to a bruising kiss, his arms locking tightly around you as he prepares to never let you go. “God what did I ever do to deserve you?” He mumbles in between kisses. “I don’t know, but what I do know is that you need to show me just how much you love me” you tease, grinding your hips down into his, causing him to hiss at the contact, “That sweetheart I can do”.

You feel your back hit the bed as he flips you over, bringing his hands up your ribs, carefully pulling your shirt up and over your head. While you impatiently kick your jeans off somewhere at the bottom of the bed, the action making him smirk, “Impatient darlin’?” He teases, “Yes” you moan, becoming more and more breathless by the second.

He could tease you all day, make you wait until you’re crying for him desperately. But he can’t, not today, you’ve both waited so long for this and he plans on worshiping you like you deserve. “Ok baby, don’t worry I’ve got ya” he says as he moves down your body, kissing down your stomach until he reaches your pubic bone. Placing a soft kiss there he wastes no time pulling your panties all the way off, and diving into your sweet pussy. You gasp at the sensation before letting out a long moan, the feeling of him suckling on your clit causing your legs to shake, “Negan oh fuck, you feel so good, more please give me more” you beg.

He answers your prayers by adding two long, thick fingers. Pushing them into your tight hole. “Shit!” You moan, your climax approaching quickly, never had you come so close to release so fast in your life! “Please don’t stop Negan, I’m so close” you whine, “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you, let go for me darlin’” he encourages, and you do, with a cry you reach your pinnacle, releasing all over his mouth and fingers, while he devourers it all up like a man starved.

You’re still so lost in your high you don’t notice him pull off his boxers and moving in between your legs. As your vision clears you feel him nuzzling into your neck, placing gentle kisses against your sweet spot while sliding his cock between your lower lips. “Are you sure you want this sweetheart?” He asks nervously, he’d stop right now if you asked him too, even though every fibre of his being so desperately needed to be buried inside of you.

You nod frantically, “Not enough baby girl, I need words” he nudges. “Yes fuck, I need you now, need you inside me so much” you beg. That’s all he needs to push forward burying himself inside you, all while letting out a low groan, “Fuck your so tight baby, and so wet. This all for me?” He asks, trying his hardest not to blow his load straight away. But you just feel so good! He’s overwhelmed, you’re really here, in his arms, begging him to make love to you.

He’s so lost in it all he jumps slightly when you roll your hips up into his, searching desperately for the friction you need. “Please, fuck please daddy make love to me” you beg. He whips his head up to look at you, and for a moment you worry you’ve taken things too far, the name unconsciously slipped through your lips, before you could even think.

But the smirk on his face says otherwise, who knew his perfect little girl could be so dirty. “Daddy huh?” He punctuates with a firm thrust, making you throw your head back in pleasure. “My naughty girl, does that get you off huh? Calling me daddy? Knowing it’s your step dad making you feel this good?” He teasingly scolds, as he starts a brutal pace, “Fuuuucckk!” You moan, leaking all over him, “Yeah you definitely get off on that don’t you? Dirty girl. Look at that, such a mess you’re making on daddy” he tuts, “Please daddy, please don’t stop” you moan, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Don’t worry baby I have no plans on stopping, you’re mine now and I ain’t ever letting you go.” He groans, rapidly ramming himself into you, at the same time he cups your cheek, pulling you into a loving kiss. A stark contrast to his brutal thrusts, but he still wanted you to know how much he loves you.

“Daddy I’m gonna cum!” You scream, “Go on baby girl, cum on daddy’s cock” he demands, hitting that perfect spot again and again hurtling you into your second orgasm, feeling your tight pussy clamping down on him triggers his own high, causing him to release hot spurts inside you as he growls into your neck. After you both catch your breaths he pulls himself up to look you in the eyes, “I love you so much sweetheart” he smiles. “I love you too” you grin, “So this is it now? You and me together?” You ask.

“Yeah sweetheart, this is it now. I told you, I’m never letting you go.” He affirms.

________________________________________

6 Months Later……………

Sat at the breakfast table, drinking a warm mug of coffee, your left hand laced in Negan’s you smile.

Things have been wonderful, you’d both fallen into your relationship so easily. And with summer coming to a close, you were soon finishing your final year of college. “You know sweetheart you only have a few weeks of college left, and I was thinking that maybe it is time to start a new?” He proposed. “What do you mean?” You ask, feeling a little uncertain all of a sudden, reading your face he pulls you closer, “Don’t worry darlin’ it’s a good thing, I was thinking that maybe we sell this house, move away and buy another somewhere new? Somewhere that’s only ever been ours? No bad memories attached, we can choose somewhere together?” He asks.

You light up “Really?” You gasp, excitement flooding in you. Buying a house together sounds like a dream. “Yeah, well the divorce has been final for a while now, and I feel like we’d both benefit from a new start, my jobs remote anyways and you will be starting new, so why not? Maybe somewhere by the sea? New England?” He offers.

“That sounds wonderful Negan, I’d love to live by the sea, I’ve only ever been once. It would be magical to be right by it everyday. And choosing somewhere new that’s just ours sounds perfect” you grin. “Great, it’s settled then, we will go down to the realtors this afternoon, get the ball rolling.” He suggests. You sit yourself onto his lap, running your fingers through his hair, “How did I get so lucky?” You smile, “Nah I’m the lucky one sweetheart”, you grin placing your lips against his, as he pulls you closer wrapping his arms around you. You both deepen the kiss, tongues dancing together loosing yourselves in each other.

Just as things start heating up, as hands begin to wonder and you start rolling your hips against his, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor startles you both.

“What the fuck!” A familiar voice chimes through the kitchen. “Shit” Negan mumbles into your shoulder before looking up, his eyes meeting those of your mothers.

“What the hell is this!!” She barks, you quickly get off Negan’s lap and turn to your mom, “Well mother I guess it’s exactly what it looks like.” You sigh. There was no use trying to hide it now. “I think I need more of an explanation than that! Negan?” She shrieks, “We are together, Y/N and I, and as you left quite some time ago I really don’t think it’s any of your damn business, you clearly know your way in, so can you please reverse the process and make your way back out of our home!” Negan orders, his tone cold and final.

“How long has this been going on? Were you two doing this behind my back!” She shouts, causing you to flinch, Negan won’t allow you to be hurt by this woman again, so instinctively he pulls you behind him all while taking a defensive step towards your mother. “How dare you! After you know full well what you were doing behind my back! You didn’t hide it very well trust me!” He spat. “Well I umm, that has nothing to do with this! That’s my daughter! Your step daughter! How could you!” She cries.

“Firstly you lost the right to call her your daughter the second you left, second we haven’t been married a long while now so she is no longer my ‘step daughter’ and to answer your question, no this didn't happen until after you left, now will you please leave!” He growls.

Your mom turns to you, “I always knew you were a little slut, but to steal my husband, even I didn’t think you’d lower yourself that far!” She sneered. “Hey! How dare you…” Negan starts, but you place your hand on his arm, giving him a look that says ‘No I’ve got this’.

“I didn’t ‘steal’ your husband mom, you left, and you asked him for a divorce, which I may add you made him sign then and there. You then walked out of our lives, leaving me here with Negan without looking back. Now what? It wasn’t greener on the other side? You thought you’d come back here and pick up where you left off? Life doesn’t work like that mom.

I’ve nearly finished college and soon we will be moving, and we won’t see you again, you can go on and live your life exactly how you wanted, alone. You wrote your terms in the divorce papers, to which he agreed too and signed, so you are entitled to nothing here. So to echo what Negan said, please leave. I hope to never see you again.” You declare, opening the front door and motioning her to leave.

Negan watches with a proud smirk on his face, one your mother certainly notices. “This isn’t over! You won’t be walking happily off into the sunset I promise you! I will tell your grandparents, they will all know what a little slut you are! You’ll have no one left!” She shrieks.

“You can tell them whatever you want, but I can assure you they won’t be shocked. I’ve invited Grandma and Grandfather to my graduation. So I had to tell them about me and Negan. They weren’t too happy to start with, but once Negan spoke to them on the phone, told them what you’d done and how much he loved me. How he wants to make me happy and love me how I deserve, they came around, in fact we are both invited over for thanksgiving with the family. So you can take your threats and shove them where the sun don’t shine mother, goodbye.” You say calmly, once again motioning for her to leave.

She screams in frustration before stomping out and slamming the door. You know you haven’t heard the end of this, and in all honesty you hope you can move quicker than she can plot.

________________________________________

Graduation passed with a blur, your grandparents did in fact come and they made mends with you and Negan. All be it along side threatening him, that if he ever hurt you your grandma would castrate him. But even she could tell how much you loved one another, Lacey took a bit more convincing, she couldn’t understand to start with, but you reminded her you met him when you were over 18. That nothing happened until you were even older than that, you told her how happy he’s made you, and that you hope she will come visit you in your new home.

Eventually she came around, and has since visited you in your new home. Which was the best surprise, as you couldn’t imagine loosing your best friend.

Your new home….. it was beautiful, a little two bedroom cottage right by the sea in a sleepy little seaside town in Rhodes island. It was perfect, Negan let you decorate it however you wanted, in his words “I couldn’t care less, paint it all pink if you like, if you’re happy I’m happy”.

You’d gone up and spent thanksgiving with your family as planned, they were all very welcoming to Negan, as they hadn’t met him with your mother, it was easy to only see him as your partner. It was lovely to see everyone again, the family who loves you, but whom your mother had kept you away from. Your mother thankfully didn’t have your new address and it felt like things were finally good, really good in fact, and as you snuggle up with Negan on your first Christmas in your new home.

Fuzzy socks sat on both your feet, and the heat from the fire warming your skin, a deep contrast from the snow that’s softly falling outside your window. You look down and smile gleefully at the glistening ring on your left hand, and in that moment you knew that everything was worth it.

[thestarsofpines]

a little wip of a combination of prompts and AUs I've seen that I just had to give my own take on.

Damian was bored. He’d followed Father around for most of the night, listening absentmindedly to the trivial blabbering of rich socialites that tried to suck up to the prince of Gotham. He could only handle it for so long, patience quickly running out as a few shoved their own children his way, perhaps hoping the young heir would make a friend and create easier access to the Wayne wealth. Pitiful. 

The young teen stood off to the side of a polished dance floor that had couples mingling and swaying to the soft classical music playing. He’d picked up a drink and was sipping at it slowly, just to have something to do with his hands. He itched for something to do that wasn’t making small, meaningless talk.

He hears footsteps approaching, perhaps a bit heavier than intended, as if it was a warning for someone that they were approaching.

“Little Badger, we talked about this in great detail earlier, you are not to leave my sight-“

Just as a man moves to place a hand on Damian’s shoulder, the teen turns around and glares at the man. He takes in the details of the man quickly; older, likely mid forties if not older, gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail, vibrant blue eyes that at first are narrowed at him in perhaps annoyance before they turn wide with shock. The man recovers quickly, expression turning apologetic as he steps back.

“Oh-my most sincere apologies, I thought you were someone else!” He breathes out, and his expression shifts again to one of slight surprise as he takes in more of Damian’s features from the front. “My, you two do look quite alike.” He says easily, hand coming back to rest beside him before he places both his hands behind his back. “I do apologize again, young sir…?”

Bruce spots this interaction, politely ends the conversation he was in, and makes his way over to investigate. 

“Damian Wayne, my son.” Bruce slides up to the pair, standing easily at Damian’s right. “Vlad Masters, yes?”

Said man’s eyes widen ever so slightly at the easy recognition and at the fact that he could’ve accidentally torn into such an influential young man as he’d been planning to do to whoever he was looking for, but he recovers quickly again.

“Yes, I was just apologizing to your boy here, Mr. Wayne. It seems he has quite a lot of physical similarities to my godson.”

Damian remains silent, but nods in the direction of the billionaire. Something isn’t sitting right with him about Masters, but he can’t put it into words. He’ll allow Father to handle the situation, for the moment. 

“Oh? Why, that is quite interesting.” Bruce smiles, open and disarming. He places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, and gives a subtle squeeze. “What’s the young man’s name?”

“Daniel,” And the grip tightens ever so slightly. “He is the son of some old family friends who unfortunately cannot take care of him anymore, so I’ve become his legal guardian in their stead.”

“How kind, opening your house to a youth in need.” Bruce continues, pushing for more information. “From experience I know how hard that can be. Raising a teenager is no cakewalk that’s for sure.”

“Oh yes, I do recall hearing of your experiences with adoption; you’re up to four adoptions now, yes?” There’s a hint of something in Vlad’s eyes, likely aware of the information seeking nature of this conversation but unconcerned by it. Intriguing. “I can hardly claim to have such kindness, one fifteen year old is enough for me.”

Damian has to physically restrain his face from reacting. Perhaps this is another cloning situation. Perhaps this Vlad Masters should be higher on the priority list of people to investigate closely. 

“Oh, well I do believe I have taken up enough of your time, Mr. Wayne. I really must get looking for Daniel, as we do intend to leave soon.” Vlad holds out a hand to the two, smiling confidently. “It was a pleasure to meet you both.” 

Bruce takes it and shakes it politely; Damian’s following is more forced in its gentleness. Vlad Masters unsettles him and it is driving him mad that he cannot pinpoint why. 

“Enjoy the rest of the gala, Vlad Masters. Perhaps our paths will cross again soon.”

[hyewka]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — masterlist page! 𑁯 

☆ RECENTS! ⌦

☆ NOTE! ⌦ pieces of work are ordered by most to least recent for each member.

🍏 = personal fave, 🍎 = old fic, 🌟 = popular

⤷ ꒰ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 ꒱

choi yeonjun. ๑ 6.8k

in which getting your male friend prettied up for a party goes weirdly left.

(🌟 ) fetish! ft beomgyu ๑ 4.9k

when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

( 🍎 ) after party ๑ 2.7k (community labeled)

you didn’t know taking the virginity of the cruel rich asshole could feel so empowering. (ft. beomgyu)

— unedited drabbles/thoughts:

fwb yeonjun’s jealous

giving yeonjun head

yeonjun choker thoughts

sitting on yeonjuns face

( 🍏 ) (sort of) fucking annoying neighbour yeonjun (community labelled)

( 🍎 ) perv bestfriend yeonjun thought (community labelled)

⤷ ꒰ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍 ꒱

priorities, you perv ๑ 2.6k

a blind date? oh thats immediately pushed aside just for the addictive high you get off messing with your roommate, who seems to be more pouty than usual tonight for whatever reason.

( 🌟 ) please, noona ๑ 4.9k (community labelled)

messing with your brother’s best friend who just can’t keep his eyes off your tits.

— unedited drabbles/thoughts:

overstim sub soobin

yandere sub soobin

bunny hybrid soobin

sub ceo soobin

church boy soobin thought

( 🍏 ) barely giving fwb soobin head (community labelled)

perv!soobin thought

bunny!soobin x fox!reader (community labelled)

⤷ ꒰ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔 ꒱

buddy system

wanting to try a new sexual route with your boyfriend but not knowing how to approach the situation drives you to beomgyu—your best friend since the dawn of time, under the rule of what you call a buddy system.

( 🌟 ) what a loser! ๑ 2.7k

hearing rumours of your sex life travel around your campus for the first time has you standing in front of the very person that you’re convinced is responsible. your secret fuck buddy.

fetish ft. yeonjun ๑ 4.9k

when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

( 🍏 ) while i fuck you straight ๑ 5.1k (CL)

in which you let your best friend fuck you into oblivion in the name of forgetting about your ex.

( 🌟 ) love me ๑ 1.8k

in which your best friend so graciously offers to satisfy your very stale sex life.

( 🌟 ) ( 🍏 ) boyfriend ๑ 4.3k

choi beomgyu is a name that means different things to different people. to you, he's the pest that you can't quite get rid of. he's always around to bother you, embarrass you, all of the above. unfortunately his hatred for you ends up ruining your chances with his best friend, choi soobin. and now all the years of effort you've spent tolerating him dissipates; you've had enough of his bitchy attitude.

— unedited drabbles/thoughts:

vampire

trying to get your attention

straddling beomgyu while he’s injured

bratty kitty hybrid beomgyu

stepbro!beomgyu

ceo!beomgyu

beomgyu fucking you on the floor

( 🍏 ) sub!gyu and aphrodisiacs

switch bear gyu

sub!gyu sitting on your lap

choking sub!gyu

puppy hybrid beomgyu

trainee!beomgyu x idol!reader

hickeys w/ sub beomgyu (community labelled)

jerking off sub!beomgyu in a skirt

sub!beomgyu fucking you bcs hes jealous

sub!beomgyu eating you out while you game

( 🌟 ) perv bestfriend!gyu thought

( 🍎 ) yandere bestfriend!beomgyu thought

( 🍎 ) sub!puppy hybrid thought

⤷ ꒰ 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 ꒱

. . . (empty)

— unedited drabbles/thoughts:

sub!tyun in car with vibrator

(🌟) sub!tyun, noona!reader

dom!tyun thoughts

⤷ ꒰ 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐀𝐈 ꒱

. . . (empty)

— unedited drabbles/thoughts:

pervert kai + caught panty stealing

pocket pussy + best friend kai

( 🍏 ) sub!kai in a tent

perv!hyuka thought (community labelled)

➪ ꒰ more than one member ꒱

( 🌟 ) fetish! - cyj, cbg ๑ 4.9k

when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

— unedited drabbles/thoughts:

yandere!txt

riding tyun’s abs + face sitting with hyuka

( 🌟 ) favorite places txt likes to suck hickeys

( 🍏 ) unconventional sex (community labelled)

© HYEWKA 2024 . if a post is community labelled you will not be able to see said post if you don’t change your settings, click here to learn how to change them. reblogging helps circulate my work and get it picked up by tumblr's algorithm, the kind gesture is always appreciated

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Face the consequences

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 9k

Summary: This is the second part of "Consequences" that many of you requested.

On the second day of your stay with your parents, your mother invites you and Wanda to a day out and you decide to use it as an opportunity to tease your girlfriend and push her buttons, resulting in a lesson you won't soon forget.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, fingering, magic use, magical restraints, finger sucking, use of butt plug, pearl underwear, edging, ruined orgasms, pussy spanking, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

This is a fic for all the people who asked me to be mean. I hope this will give you a glimpse of what that might look like.

Masterlist with all my works.

Waking up this morning, you felt pretty good. Sure, you wanted to sleep in a little, but the memory of your wild night with Wanda and her touch were more than enough to shift your priorities.

Unfortunately for you, instead of getting a mind-blowing orgasm, you had gotten edged, denied and then swiftly plugged and you had to watch Wanda get dressed, her smug smile taunting you, while you recovered. That was certainly not in your plans. But you couldn’t deny that you had asked for it. You should have known that pushing her buttons will get you a punishment. Just like you should have known that she wouldn’t take it easy on you the second time around.

When she had put on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt, Wanda rummaged through the clothes you had packed and handed you a skirt and a comfortable top, coaxing you up and helping you get dressed.

“You look beautiful, baby.” She smiled, kissing your cheek and offering you her hand, guiding you to the mirror, so you could take a look at yourself.

“Thank you.” You returned her smile shyly, nuzzling your face into her in front of the mirror, before making your way to your drawer, so you could pull out a pair of panties to wear.

“Oh, no, baby, I already picked out the perfect pair for you.” Wanda objected, taking the panties from your hands and inspecting them briefly, showing her clear displeasure at your choice, before putting them back with the rest of your clothes dismissively.

She gave you a wicked smirk, while she reached into the back pocket of her jeans, though you saw a brief flash of red in her eyes, that told you that whatever she had in mind, she had just conjured with her magic and you waited with bated breath for her to pull them out.

When she did, you gasped, making the woman’s smile grow even wider as she handed them to you. It was a black, lacy thong, though even a thong was a strong word for what she was handing you. It was ridiculously small and to your shock, the front of it included a string of white pearls which would end up right where your clit is.

“Wanda…” You breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it, baby? A pretty thong for my pretty girl. And it will feel so good too.” She promised, taking it from your hands and bending down, so she could help you step into it.

Wanda dragged the soft lacy material up your thighs teasingly slowly and she took great pleasure in settling the pearls against your clit and securing the strings of the tiny thong around your waist. Her hand sneaked back, cupping your ass too, before she put a little pressure on the plug inside you, playing with it, until she made you moan. When she was done, she made you hold up your skirt, so she could step back and take a good look at you.

“Perfect.” She praised, offering you her hand. “Come on, walk around for me and tell me how it feels.” She encouraged, her eyes fixed on your body.

You did as you were told, shaky legs almost wobbling as you made a few steps around the room. The pearls quickly got covered in your wetness, copious amounts of your juices and Wanda’s cum from this morning making it easy for them to start sliding over your clit with every step you took, while the plug gave you a subtle, but undeniable feeling of being full. The combination of the two, working together to stimulate your body was impossible to ignore for a single second and you knew that you’d be a complete mess before you even finished breakfast.

“Well?” Wanda raised a brow at you. “How do you feel, baby?”

“So horny, Mommy.” You admitted, stepping into her arms and looking up at her pleadingly. “Please make it better, please. I promise to be so good.” You begged, leaning in to kiss her gently.

Your girlfriend accepted the kiss gladly, arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against her, while she deepened it, her tongue playing with yours.

“Later, darling. Your parents are already waiting for us. Your mom has been cooking breakfast for a while. We can’t be rude and let her efforts go to waste.”

Knowing that you were ready to argue her point and insist, Wanda was quick to shush you with a finger to your lips and she gave you one last reassuring smile, before she started leading you towards the door.

“Be good for me today, and Mommy will make you feel better tonight.” She promised, before she opened the door and led you out, holding your hand as you started descending the stairs.

Walking down the stairs proved much harder than you expected, each step making the pearls move against your sensitive clit. The plug only added to that feeling, arousal spreading through your entire body and making you give Wanda yet another pleading look. God, you needed her so badly. But she ignored you, helping you walk down confidently and allowing you to lean on her the entire time.

Internally, she was elated. Her perfect girl, all sweet and cute in her outfit, looking so innocent. Only Wanda knew what was hiding underneath all that, knew how much she had dirtied you up just minutes ago and that knowledge made her feel so proud. No one else was allowed to see you the way she did, touch you the way she did, make you feel as good as she did. Only she could bring out this version of you and only she would ever get to enjoy it. She would make sure of it. She would make sure that you stay hers forever. She’d put a ring on your finger one day, she’ll marry you, make you the mother of her children… She knew all that without a shadow of a doubt. Even if it wasn’t the right time just yet, she was sure that it will all fall into place one day.

With thoughts such as these, she made her way into the dining room, greeting your father, who was already seated at the table. You followed her, steps slow and calculated, but nothing really helped. Each movement, each step, each time you squeezed your legs together, the pearls would put pressure on your clit or slide over it, adding to your arousal and desperation.

You greeted your father too, sitting gingerly at your usual spot at the table, feeling the plug nestle firmly into place, now that you were putting constant pressure on it. God, you needed a distraction. And just as if your mother had heard your internal prayer, she walked in, cheerful and sweet, carrying a tray of food that she left in the middle of the table.

“Good morning girls! How did you sleep?” She asked with a smile.

“Wonderful.” Wanda spoke up, smiling charmingly at your mother. “And the food looks amazing!” She complimented, her eyes scanning the food, as if trying to pick what she should eat first. “Y/N was so eager for breakfast too. I think she misses your cooking.” She added looking at you adoringly.

“Yeah, mom, everything looks so good.” You confirmed, nodding.

“Well, then what are you waiting for? Eat!” She encouraged, urging you to start filling your plates.

You shot Wanda a glare, while your mom was taking a seat. “I sure am eager, just not for breakfast.” You thought, shifting a little in your seat and squeezing your legs together with need. “And what else could you be hungry for?” Wanda’s voice came, seemingly from inside your head, the woman smirking at you knowingly, raising an eyebrow at you, while she took a sip of her orange juice. “Something… Filling.” You smirked back. “Like your cock, maybe?” You suggested. “You haven’t earned my cock, sweetie.” Wanda’s voice filled your head. “If you did, you wouldn’t be in your current predicament.” She said with an air of finality, pulling away from your thoughts, so the two of you could focus on the conversation your parents were trying to start.

Wanda was as charming as ever, your parents completely under her spell as they spoke, her smile growing wider with each passing minute. She wasn’t just happy that they genuinely liked her, though. She was also listening to you, your hazy, lustful thoughts like a whisper in the back of her head. You were driving yourself crazy. She didn’t even have to do any work, when you were doing all the teasing for her.

By the time breakfast was finished and your parents had left the two of you alone at the table, each one attending to their choirs, you were a mess. The small, lacy thong had soaked through, wetness coating your inner things and you were almost humping the chair for relief.

You looked so beautiful to Wanda like this, so precious. She wanted to pull you into her lap and cover you in kisses, to stroke your soft hair and soothe you. Truthfully, she wanted to keep you exactly like this, always. She wanted you desperate and needy, so she could admire you in this state, with your glossy eyes and your parted lips, with your fingers clinging to her and your mind clouded by thoughts of her and her alone. She wanted to come home and find you like this, to wake up to you, in this state, so she could have you whenever she wanted. Not that you would ever refuse her. You always wanted her, could never get enough of her, just as she could never have her fill of you. But this was different. You looked so vulnerable, so exposed… So ready for her taking. It’s really a shame that you had run your smart little mouth this morning. Otherwise, she might have taken you upstairs and fucked you. Then again, if she did, you wouldn’t be looking at her the way you currently did. And she never wanted that look to fade. It was almost like she was split in two. The part of her that loved to please you screamed at her to take you right now and make you cum until you can’t anymore. Then there was the other one… How could Wanda ever choose? Before she could, the kitchen door opened and your mother came in, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Girls, what would you say, if we go out for a bit? Just the three of us. You can help me do some shopping, since I haven’t been out in the shops in ages and then we can have lunch together at that restaurant we always used to go to? What do you say?” She offered with a smile.

“What about dad?” You asked, your eyebrows knitting together.

“He has some things to do this morning. You know him, he has to keep busy. But he’ll be fine.” Your mom assured you.

“Ok, we can go out.” You agreed, thinking that this could be a nice distraction.

“Well, then I’ll go get ready. I shouldn’t take too long.” She told you, already making her way upstairs.

“Let’s go get ready too.” Wanda offered, extending her hand to you and helping you up, her eyes sparkling.

She took you to your room with a smile, closing the door behind you, before her magic left you bare, almost making you squeal in surprise at the sudden action.

“Wanda!” You reprimanded, although you weren’t quite sure what for. That thong that she gave you had disappeared too and with it, the pressure against your clit, which now throbbed for attention.

“Don’t you want to clean up, before we go out, honey?” She asked, mischief clear in her voice.

She undressed hastily and led you to the small bathroom, getting the water just right, before she started to wash you, her hands roaming your body. It was just as teasing, having her naked, as she caressed you, her body pressed against yours under the stream of hot water.

It felt so familiar, having her take care of you like this. Her lips were gentle as she kissed you, her hands soothing and her touch light. Her hands would always roam, her hunger for you insatiable, so you thought nothing of it, when they landed on your ass, kneading. What you were surprised to feel, however, was when they started to play with the jewelled plug there, making you moan in desperation.

“Such a good girl.” She praised. “Are you enjoying your little toy, baby?” Wanda asked, her fingers putting a little more pressure on it. She could feel her own pussy twitch in response to her cruel game, making her even more excited for the night she had planned for you both. “Is it making my sweet girl all horny for Mommy?”

“Yes!” You hissed, your hips canting towards her in search for any pressure where you needed her most. “Need you so badly, Mommy. Please, make it better. Please. I’ve been good.”

“As pretty as you are, begging me like this, you know why Mommy can’t make it better.” She responded softly, as if explaining something very difficult to a child. “I have to teach you a lesson, my darling. You can’t go around, acting like you did last night.” She said in that same tone. “Your little plug should be a nice reminder.” She concluded. “And if you’re good, Mommy will reward you tonight.” She promised.

When you were out of the shower, Wanda used a soft towel to dry you off and picked out a comfortable outfit for you to wear, while shopping. She got dressed quickly, not wanting to make your mother wait. When the two of you were at the door of your room, ready to go out, she took your chin in her hand, turning your face towards her and making you look up at her eyes.

“You’re going to be good for me today, won’t you, love?” She asked with a firm tone.

“Yes, Mommy, I’ll be good.” You nodded, eyes sparkling.

And you meant to keep your word, you really did. For a little while, you even managed it. You had visited a few stores with Wanda and your mother, you even got through lunch without any major incidents. Well… You did, tease Wanda a little bit, licking your fingers clean in a way that could only be described as sinful, but you knew your girlfriend wouldn’t hold it against you. She could always tell when you were being playful and she had expected such behaviour from you.

On your way to the next store, she even leaned in close, whispering to you what a good girl you’re being for her, masking her praise with a soft kiss to your cheek.

It was going well and perhaps you should have left things as they are, but the constant stimulation, the subtle feeling of fullness, the growing need between your legs just wouldn’t give you peace. Being edged this morning and then left denied had only served to heighten your arousal and despite the shower you took before leaving home, your panties were soaked, clinging to your folds and reminding you of how badly you needed Wanda to make it better.

With that in mind, you grabbed the most daring dress you could find in the store and you went to the changing rooms, quickly putting it on and looking at yourself shortly in the mirror to check if it was truly going to have the effect you wanted. Then again, how could it not, since it was a mini black dress with a plunging V-shaped neckline that stopped just above your bra.

“Hey, Wanda!” You called out, peaking from the changing room to make sure she’s near. “Would you come in? Tell me what you think.” You said shortly, before hiding yourself.

You waited with bated breath, as you heard her steps approaching, fixing your hair, to make sure you looked pretty for her, when you heard her voice.

“Let me see, baby.” She said softly, pushing the door open and sneaking inside, only to be left with her mouth hanging open at the sight of you.

“It’s a nice dress, isn’t it?” You said, a wide smile tugging at your lips.

“As gorgeous as you look, my love, that dress is way too short.” She said, eyes still glued to your chest and to your barely covered thighs, though she was starting to recover.

“What do you mean, I think it fits nicely.” You objected, turning around to let her have a view of you from the back as well. The dress was hugging you nicely, the curve of your ass perfectly outlined by the dress.

“And where would you like to wear such a dress?” Wanda’s eyes narrowed, her breathing growing erratic as she watched you.

“Don’t we have that donation dinner soon? I still don’t have an outfit…” You suggested. You knew such a thought would not sit well with your girlfriend, who hated the thought of other people ogling what’s hers.

“You want to dress like that for those rich, old men the government is trying to get money from? I don’t think so… That’s way too short. But if you like it so much, we can get it and you can wear it for me at home.” She tried to reason with you. To her, this was a compromise and the best she was willing to offer, considering that she could see your panties every time you so much as leaned forwards.

“Well, that’s no fun…” You pouted, suddenly pulling the dress off of you and leaving it on the hanger. “I guess I’ll have to find something else.” You said, running your fingers through your hair to get it out of the way. “Perhaps I should start with some new underwear… These panties are practically soaked.” You pouted.

“Oh, are they?” Wanda gave you a sympathetic look that was entirely fake. “Let Mommy see.” She stepped closer, hands circling you and gliding over your body teasingly.

She wasted no time to claim your lips in a kiss, her tongue darting out to meet yours, while her hands travelled lower, nimble fingers sneaking under the waistband of your panties and between your folds, instantly feeling the wetness there.

“Oh, my poor, sweet girl.” She gasped, playing with your wetness and spreading it generously. “That must be so uncomfortable.” She mused, the tip of her finger barely dipping inside you, before she pulled out, refusing to give you any relief.

“Yes, Mommy, it’s so icky. I need you to make it better, please.” You pleaded.

“Oh, I know, baby, I know. Mommy will help you when we get back. For now, I need you to be good for me and get dressed.” She instructed, pulling her hand away entirely.

You pouted, letting out a frustrated groan and giving her one last pleading, hopeful look, before you gathered your clothes and started putting them on, while Wanda leaned against the changing room door with a smirk and she lazily licked her fingers clean. She walked out behind you, giving your ass a teasing pat, that only served to tease you further.

If you were in any other state of mind, you would have known that you should have left things as they are. But after being edged, denied, teased and left needy, you weren’t really thinking straight. And you thought that if you teased Wanda enough, she would finally give in and fuck you. If only you knew how foolish that was…

But you did it anyway. You went ahead to show her 3 more dresses, each more revealing than the last, having the audacity to actually walk out of the changing room wearing the last one, parading it around the store and letting all the other unsuspecting shoppers ogle you. That was strike one. Wanda’s eyes were dark and downright stormy, as she tried to keep her composure. Even your mother, who usually had an open mind, thought that your choice was too much.

Strike two came, when you called her into the changing room of another store, only for her to find you in your underwear, rubbing your pussy over the damp material of your panties.

“What do you think, baby? Is this a good look for me?” You asked boldly.

“It is.” She agreed, after getting over the initial shock. “But you should know better than to touch your pussy without my permission.” She reminded. “And you should be careful with your little displays.” She added as she stepped closer, pushing your hand away from your pussy, so she could replace it with her own, gentle fingers gliding over your clothed clit and making you moan. “Unless you’d like me leave you untouched tonight as well?” Wanda added, the threat clear in her voice and darkened eyes.

“No, Mommy, please. I just need you to make me feel good. Please?” You begged, clinging to her desperately, while she teased your pussy.

“If you want me to make it better, you’ll behave yourself.” Wanda said sternly, her hand patting your pussy softly in a way that reminded you of nights when her touch has been less than gentle.

Before you could say anything else, she walked away, leaving you to dress yourself with the very uncomfortable feeling of your full ass, aching pussy and damp underwear still clinging to you.

Thankfully, this was the last store you had on your list for the day and you all gathered your items and brought them to the check-out counter, happy to finally go home for the day. Wanda gathered all the items the two of you were buying, wanting to treat you and she handed them over to the cashier, who looked up to the two of you.

“Oh my God, Y/N is that you?” He exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

“Allan, hi!” You greeted, suddenly recognizing him.

“You know, I thought I recognized you, when I saw a gorgeous woman walking around the store in that black dress. You looked amazing.” He complimented openly, bringing a tint of redness to your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You said softly, feeling Wanda step closer to you, pressing into your side protectively.

She gave the man an expectant look, her eyes fixated on his hands that didn’t seem to be scanning any of your items, but was instead flirting with you. A gesture he seemed to notice, but chose to ignore for the time being.

“How long has it been since high-school?” He continued. “You know, you’ve grown even more beautiful than I remember.” He said next, his words causing Wanda’s fists to close in annoyance. “Why don’t we go out some time?” He suggested.

While he was focused on you, he seemed to miss the way Wanda’s eyes flashed red for a brief second before she got a hold of her magic and reigned it in. Even so, she was deeply displeased at his attempts to flirt with you, her arm wrapping around you possessively and pulling you even closer to her body.

“Well…” You tried to think, looking for a polite way to turn him down.

“She has a girlfriend.” Wanda snapped, growing more impatient with each second. Her fingers dug into your side, refusing to let go and just the feeling of it told you that she had reached her limit. Strike three.

“Oh.” Allan suddenly looked between the two of you in shock, before he started to hurriedly scan your items.

“Yeah, Wanda and I are together.” You confirmed, a smile of genuine affection spreading over your features at the thought.

That seemed to make your girlfriend feel more at ease and her hold on you loosened, her eyes growing warmer at the recognition. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t going to earn you any leniency. Not that you minded. You were really looking forward to seeing Wanda’s rougher side once more. Especially with the day you’ve been having.

Thankfully your shopping trip came to an end soon after and the three of you returned back to your parents’ house and you were allowed some respite. Wanda was even kind enough to allow you to remove the plug, seeing as you practically couldn’t stand still with how needy you’d gotten and she even cleaned you up, joining you in the shower and caressing you softly.

When you joined everyone downstairs you were forced to endure the moment you dreaded most, your mom showing Wanda all of your childhood albums, starting with your cutest baby pictures and moving forward, all the way to your graduation album.

By the time they were done discussing you and fawning over how precious you looked, your mom sharing way too many embarrassing stories, it was almost time for dinner and you thanked all your lucky stars that this day would soon be over and in just a few short hours, you’ll finally get what you’d been craving all day.

This time you had the good sense to refrain from pushing Wanda’s buttons further, and the two of you made it to your room without incident, which is why you thought it would be wise to pull her in for a kiss just as soon as your bedroom door closed.  

“I’ve been waiting for this all day.” You confess against her lips, your hands sneaking under her shirt quickly.

“Oh, I know. You caused quite the scenes today, because of that needy pussy.” Wanda smirked, walking you backwards towards the bed and watching you fall on it, just as soon as the backs of your legs hit the mattress.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You feigned innocence, batting your eyelashes at her.

“No?” Wanda scoffed. “Well, let me remind you, baby. Because you’ve been such a bad girl today.”

Your girlfriend undressed you quickly, your clothes and hers falling on the floor in rapid succession, until you were both bare. She was pleasantly surprised to find your panties already wet and her eyes zeroed in on the way a string of your arousal clung to them, as she was dragging them down your legs.

“So fucking wet for me already.” She gasped in awe, her fingers running through your wetness almost on instinct. She found it fascinating, how badly you wanted her, how wet you got for her, how much you needed her. “And so God damned beautiful.” She complimented with a sigh, eagerly entering you with a finger.

Your walls fluttered around her, welcoming her and you arched your back in pleasure.

“More, please Mommy.” You begged, your hips moving against Wanda’s hand eagerly, in search for relief. You needed her to move faster, to fuck you deeper, to stretch out your walls further, so you could feel full.

She obliged you without protest, calculating eyes following each movement you made, as she added another finger, your needy moans like music to her ears. Soon her tongue joined as well, swirling over your clit once and waiting for the litany of pleas, before she would do it again.

Considering the way she played with you, you should have known that it wouldn’t be so easy, but with her fingers buried deep inside you and her tongue swirling over your clit, it took no time at all, before you were ready to explode, the sensation overshadowing all rational thought. It would have been so sweet too. You could feel yourself getting to that glorious edge, your hands gripping the sheets and your back arching in anticipation of it, when Wanda’s mouth and tongue pulled away, looking up at you with a wide, devilish smirk.

“Are you close, baby?” She asked, her voice husky.

“Yes, I’m so close.” You nodded frantically. Her fingers twisted inside you, curling to hit your sweet spot while she spoke, getting you even closer.

“You know good girls ask for permission, when they want to come, don’t you?” She reminded with that same sweet tone, amusement and excitement glistening in her eyes.

“Oh God…” You moaned, when her fingers curled again. Your clit was throbbing and you knew that the slightest touch against it would set you off. “Please, Mommy, may I come? Please!” You begged, your eyes closing in anticipation of her tongue returning.

What came however, was Wanda’s deep, raspy chuckle. It sounded menacing, all of the amusement drained from it.

“Did you really think it would be that easy, sweetheart?” She asked, as she continued to fuck you with her fingers, her movements slow and calculated to keep you on the edge, without letting you fall over. “After everything you did today? After refusing to listen to Mommy, after parading yourself around the stores… Do you really think you deserve an orgasm, hm?”

“Mommy, please! I just wanted to play a little.” You tried to explain with a pout, your hips starting to cant up to meet Wanda’s teasing fingers. “Please, I need it so much.” You whined, your hands twisting the sheets under you in frustration.

“Is that so…” Wanda raised an eyebrow at you, smirking. “Well, now Mommy’s going to play a little too.” She said calmly, before wrapping her mouth around your clit again.

She made teasingly slow circles with her tongue, gliding it gently over your sensitive clit. She was having so much fun teasing you like this, working you up to the edge again.

“Mommy!” You squirmed under her. “Please, can I come? Please!” You begged once more, but Wanda hurried to remove herself from you entirely.

“No.” She stated bluntly. “I don’t think I’ll let you have an orgasm tonight.” She announced, as if it was the most mundane topic. “Mommy has to teach you how to be a good girl.” She told you, smirking at how pathetically you whined.

With a wave of her hands, she secured your wrists and ancles, red magic swirling over them and holding them in place, making sure that your hands were pinned above your head and your legs were being spread wide open.

“I’ll be good, Mommy, please!” You tried again, your limbs instinctively trying to fight against her magical bonds, even when you knew it was futile.

“Yeah? You’ll be my good girl tonight?” Wanda asked with mocking softness. “Well, let’s see…”

She enters you without much warning, but your walls welcome her happily, your pussy pulsing and squeezing her desperately. She curls them with each thrust, while she looks at your face with a mix of sadistic pleasure and tender admiration. She makes sure to hit your sweet spot every time, watching the pleasure building within you, reaching the sweet edge of release with a strangled moan, before she cruelly pulls away.

She waits for you to open your eyes, waits for them to meet hers in pleading desperation, before her hand rises and it lands with a harsh slap on your pussy. She does it just once, but it’s enough to have your eyes water and for your body to start squirming again.

“Will you forget to ask permission again?” She asks, getting straight to the point, grabbing your face in her hand and forcing you to look at her. You only shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak and she raises an eyebrow at you. “Words, baby.” She reminds, softer this time, her hold loosening and turning into a caress.

“No, Mommy, I won’t forget to ask for permission again.” You shake your head, but you answer her this time.

“Good.” She smiles, her gaze turning towards your needy pussy. “Then let’s try again.” She says with smile.

Her fingers return soon after, probing and teasing your pussy, this time she circles your clit with them, slow and gentle motions that drive you wild with need. Anything she does feels amazing at this point, really. Even that slap on your pussy, despite the pain and the sudden harshness, was almost good enough to trigger your orgasm.

“Mommy, may I please come?” You whine, when you feel yourself reaching the edge. The way she touches you is overwhelmingly good. Too good. And her hand doesn’t pull away.

“No. You may not.” She responds firmly. “Hold it.”

“I can’t. Please! Please, Mommy, you have to stop!” You plead with her, while you try to hold on to anything that might keep you grounded.

Wanda’s hand pulls away, leaving you edged once more and an almost evil smirk appears on her lips when she thinks about what you’d said.

“Such a good girl.” She praises softly, kissing your parted lips and making you open your eyes, so you can look at her. “You want to be a good girl for me, don’t you?” She asks, smirking. You can see the mischief behind her words, but you can’t be sure why yet, your brain too foggy and too overwhelmed to really think it through.

“I want to be good for you, Mommy.” You repeat, almost on autopilot.

“Good. Well, good girls don’t come without permission, do they?” She asks, but at this point, you’re pretty sure it’s rhetorical. “And you already know that you’re not allowed to come tonight, so it’s pointless to ask for permission anyway, isn’t it? If you want to be good, you should be begging me to deny you instead.” She says triumphantly, smirking when your eyes go wide with realization and disappointment.

She doesn’t give you much time to say anything, before she’s making her way down your body, kissing your breasts and licking over your erect nipples, leaving a few marks on your tender flesh, then moving even lower, settling between your legs and caressing your things, before she lowers her head and starts to lick your pussy.

She moans at your taste, trying to delve in deeper, gathering your juices on her tongue and swallowing them greedily, before she swirls her tongue over your clit, making you moan and arch under her.

You try to fight the pleasure, you try to keep yourself from falling too fast, but it’s inevitable. She’s too good, she knows your body too well and you know it’s a losing battle.

“Oh my God, Mommy!” You scream. You want her to make you come. You need her to make you come. You need relief. And you want to beg her to let you. “Mommy, please!” You utter out, desperate, not wanting to say the words that will condemn you to denial. You refuse to utter them.

When she can sense that you’re too close, she pulls away, edging you once again and she gives you a moment of reprieve, for you to catch your breath, before she makes you look down at her.

Her hand rises again, slapping your pussy with a grin that only widens when you try to escape her. She looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something and when you don’t, she does it again, her fingers landing on your clit this time and making your eyes fill with tears again.

“I’m sorry, please!” You try to beg, not really sure what to say to get yourself out of this situation. “Please, I’ll be good.” You try again, when her hand raises for the third time.

“You’ll be good, baby?” Wanda smirks, satisfied to see all the defiance leaving you. She enters you gently and curls her fingers inside you, causing a surge of relief to pass through your body at the stimulation. “And what do good girls say to Mommy, when they’re close?” She asks expectantly, using her other hand to draw circles over your clit.

The stimulation hits you full force and you gasp, trying to fight off the pleasure, trying to keep yourself from letting go, but you can’t. You’re already so close, she’s been keeping you on the edge for a while now and she knows it. When she puts some extra pressure on your clit, you moan, instantly surrendering.

“Mommy, please don’t let me come!” You say pleadingly, your body writhing, when she pulls her hands away once more.

The thoughts in your head and the sensations you’re experiencing are so conflicting it almost hurts. You want to come so badly, your whole body is on fire and each small touch makes you crave your release so much more. But you also want to be a good girl for Wanda, you crave her praise and her soft dominance, you crave her approval. You want to make her happy. And you know how much this makes her happy. You can feel the internal elation in her, when you do as you’re told.

“That’s my good girl.” Wanda smiles, her hands running up and down your thighs soothingly, while she waits for the edge to wear off. “You did so well, my darling.” She tells you softly, kissing the insides of your thighs.

“Thank you, Mommy.” You breathe out a sigh of relief. It feels so good, when she says that and means it.

Your words only spur Wanda on, giving her another wicked idea and she starts to tease your pussy with her fingers, entering you gently and building another orgasm within you. She holds eye contact with you as she does it, she wants to see the defeat in your eyes this time, when you beg her and she’s not disappointed.

“Please, Mommy, please don’t let me come.” You say with tearful eyes and even though you expect the edge it still hurts, when she pulls away.

“Very good.” Wanda is practically in heaven, her pussy dripping with excitement at how well you’re behaving, how well you’re taking it, but especially at your obedience. “Now say “Thank you” to Mommy, for being so nice and denying you.” She coaxes out of you.

“Thank you for denying me, Mommy.” You say softly, voice shaking at how hard it is to utter those words. “Thank you for letting me be a good girl and not letting me come.”

“Fuck, you’re so hot, when you say that.” Wanda smirks. “You have no idea how turned on that makes me.” She confesses, not even trying to hide how much it pleases her. “Now, baby, Mommy’s going to lick your pussy, but you’re not allowed to have an orgasm.” She tells you. “You’ll be a good girl and beg me to deny you, won’t you?” She asks you expectantly. “And while you do that, Mommy’s going to have some fun with herself.”

For the next long minutes, that’s exactly what she does. She edges you over and over again, and each time you beg her to deny you and you thank her for her cruelty, she gets a little bit closer to having one of the best orgasms of her life.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” Wanda praises with a sigh, her hand working tirelessly between her own legs, her clit twitching with how close she is. “Do you think you can take one more edge for Mommy? Hm?” She asks sweetly.

She rarely allows herself to indulge in such pleasures, rarely lets this side of her sadistic nature run free, especially because you’re usually such a good girl for her, so this is a rare treat, something she wants to savour, something she wants to remember.

“Yes, Mommy, I can do it.” You nod frantically, wanting her to keep going. You never want her to stop. At this point, even though she’s edging you, any stimulation feels better than being left untouched.

“Good girl.” Wanda praises, before starting to slowly lick over your clit.

“Thank you, Mommy!” You sigh. You’re on a wave of pleasure of your own, a twisted pleasure that never ends, a tormenting kind of pleasure that demands more and more, without it ever being enough. “Thank you for being so good to me.” You moan, pulling against the restraints. It’s gloriously good. “Thank you.” You gasp, the closer you get and you can feel her right there on the edge with you, her hand helping her through those final moments. “Thank you for edging me. Thank you for teaching me how to be good, Mommy!” You moan the words in a trans-like state. You’re so close that you think she’ll actually let you come this time.

In the last possible moment Wanda pulls away from your pussy, leaving you edged and in despair as she starts to climax. The orgasm is just glorious, her moans of pleasure mixing with yours, creating a symphony of bliss and despair. Knowing how badly you need to come right now makes her come even harder, her body trembling and her thighs shaking as she continues to circle her clit, until she’s entirely spent and she pulls her hand away with a happy sigh.

When you see that she’s spent, you finally relax, thinking that your punishment is over, that she’ll take pity on you and finally allow you to come, the way you’ve been craving, but she makes no move to alleviate the uncomfortable feelings between your legs.

Climbing up your body, she doesn’t let you say a thing, opting for pushing her slick covered fingers in your mouth and making you suck them clean. She hopes they’ll keep you busy enough, but she isn’t surprised, when you start to beg her just as soon as you can, promising to be good for her and to never misbehave again.

“Hush, sweetie. Just enjoy the taste of Mommy on your tongue.” She shushes you, leaving tender kisses on your face.

“But Mommy, I need it.” You pout, looking up at her with your big, desperate eyes.

“You should have thought of that, before you decided to misbehave today, baby.” Wanda tries to remind you.

“Please, Mommy, just one. Please?” You try again., straining against the bonds that still hold you.

“Mommy already said no, sweetheart.” She explains calmly, though her eyes give away her frustration. She is close to losing her patience. “You were doing so well for me. Don’t stop now.”

“But, Mommy, please! I was good.” You try to bargain again, but from the way her jaw sets and her head tilts, you can see that you have made a very big mistake.

“Yes, and you don’t want to ruin all that, do you? So stop being a brat and listen to Mommy.” She gives you one last warning.

“I’m not a brat! I just want to come. Please?” You say with a pout, getting on Wanda’s last nerve.

“You really wanna cum that badly, huh?” She asks, while gripping your face and spitting the words through gritted teeth, her voice getting lower, until it becomes a dangerous growl.

She doesn’t wait for a response, doesn’t even spare you a second glance, which tells you that whatever she’ll do next, it’s unlikely you’ll enjoy it. Her mind already made up and she travels down your body again on a mission, ignoring your little pleas for her attention and mercy. She doesn’t pretend that she’s going to be soft, her hands starting to work on building an orgasm within you just as soon as she touches you. Her fingers are rough when she enters you and her thumb on your clit puts more pressure than she needs, but you don’t mind. You just want to come.

The orgasm builds within you in just a few short minutes, in fact, you think it’s less and you wait for the moment it hits you with bated breath. You even think she might edge you again, just to spite you, but she doesn’t. Her fingers work with purpose and they push you over the edge with experienced ease. Wanda watches the way your back arches, the way your walls squeeze her in, the way your mouth falls open, so you can scream with pleasure, she can feel your clit twitching with how good it feels and she doesn’t hesitate for a moment to take it away.

It's worse than an edge. This time she ruins it. And she watches with gleeful satisfaction how you writhe in agony at the displeasure of having your orgasm ruined.

“No, no, no, no, no!” You say in panicked frenzy, but there’s nothing you can do. Tied up and helpless, your hands twist in her bonds, desperate for you to be free so you can do something to make it better.

“What? Didn’t you want to come?” Wanda smirks at you, raising her hand and spanking your pussy. It’s overstimulated and sensitive, making her slap hurt even more and you yelp, uselessly flailing on the bed.

Tears start to stream down your face soon after. Tears of frustration and desperation, tears that came from being denied what you wanted. You hated being denied. You hated it so much when you couldn’t get what you want. In moments like this you could be a real brat, but Wanda was going to deal with that once and for all.

“Did you like your orgasm, baby?” She asks gleefully. “Was it worth making Mommy angry?” You can only shake your head, still feeling the aftershocks of unfulfilled pleasure coursing through you. “Well, baby, you got yourself in this situation and now you’ll get exactly what you asked for.” She tells you with an air of finality.

Before you can ask what she means, she puts her hands on your pussy again, fingers running through your folds and teasing your clit. It feels too much, your body still recovering and the pleasure she brings with her touch isn’t enough to help the overstimulation, but she doesn’t care. What’s worse is that your body craves it and your tears run dry, immediately replaced by yearning. The ruin somehow amplified your need and now, despite the overstimulation, you stayed still, allowing her each touch, chasing another high.

Wanda’s cruelty doesn’t stop, now that you’ve truly pushed her buttons and she’s determined to see this through the end, no matter how many orgasms she has to ruin to do it. It only turns her on, the more you start to realize that there’s no escape and she decides to enjoy herself fully, her hand returning between her legs, so she can coax another orgasm out of her own pussy as well.

She builds you up quickly, but this time you’ve had time to think, so when you reach your edge, you beg.

“Mommy, may I please come? Please?” You ask sweetly, hoping to win her over.

“Of course, baby. Go ahead and come for me.” She encourages with a gentle smile and you feel yourself let go immediately.

Wanda watches with careful eyes as you start to orgasm, your clit throbbing and she doesn’t hesitate to pull away again, her smile turning into a cruel grin as she watches you whine and thrash on the bed.

The second ruin is even more unsatisfying than the first, all the pleasure fading away and only leaving a bitter taste, which is a mixture of craving for release, disappointment and frustration. It makes you let out a long cry, your eyes fixing her and pleading wordlessly for her to take pity on you.

“Oh, did you think I was really going to let you have a full orgasm?” She asks through a laugh devoid of amusement. “No, you’ll only be having ruins.” She announces, answering her own question before you had a chance to speak. “I want to see how many you can have.”

“Please, Mommy, I’ll be good.” You tried to plead.

“You had your chance to be good for me, darling. Now you’ll just have to face the consequences.” She explains, patient and even a little excited. “You know what consequences are, don’t you?” She asks in a mockingly sweet voice. “Perhaps after tonight, my lovely girl will think twice, before acting up.” She muses with a deep sigh.

The way your eyes widened in fear and dejection shouldn’t have turned Wanda on as much as they did. She should have felt terrible for doing all these cruel, sadistic things to you, but instead, she felt excited. Your adorable little pussy was practically dripping on the sheets, wet and aching and ready to be filled to the brim, ready for every touch she was willing to offer… Ready to be ruined.

How poetic, she mused to herself, pondering on the beauty of the double meaning behind her thought. She wondered if perhaps you would find it as amusing as she did? Then again… Perhaps not. But she was enjoying herself immensely and she didn’t hesitate for a moment to slip her slender fingers inside your hungry hole, filling you up, until you took all of her.

She fucked you almost lazily, her adoring eyes devouring the sight of you stretching around her, of the droplets of your arousal smeared across your pussy and her hands, of the way your muscles twitched and spasmed, your body struggling to stay still. All beautiful. All for her.

Wanda could see that you were getting lost in your pleasure, in your own little world, which, at this moment, seemed to revolve entirely around her. You always looked so pretty when your brain got all fuzzy and all you could do was cling to her, just as you did now. She could see you slipping into subspace, defiance giving way to submission, the internal battle within you giving way to acceptance.

Her mouth joins her fingers this time, her tongue gliding over your clit deliciously, making it even more painful, when she takes the next orgasm away from you, ruining it. Your whole pussy spasms uselessly with no stimulation once more, empty and untouched, making you whine. You’ve rarely had ruins before, and always accidental, but this was the first time with Wanda and certainly the first time you’ve had so many in a row. It’s the worst punishment you’ve ever faced.

She almost cums at the sight of you, all desperate and ruined and entirely at her mercy. She certainly hoped for it to be enough, wanting to fall apart while you were writing through another ruined orgasm. It would have been the perfect taunt, but she needs a little more.

“Mommy.” You say, the words spilling out of your mouth without much thought. You don’t even know what you want to say.

“Shhh, it’s ok, love. Mommy’s here.” She reassures you, her free hand running up and down your thighs to soothe you. “I’ll take care of you.” She whispers softly, her chest filling with pride and love at how quickly you nod your head. “Isn’t it much better when Mommy thinks for you, my love? Isn’t it easier, when you let Mommy make all those hard decisions and you just do as you’re told?” She spoke softly, her features reflecting her demeanour.

“Yes, Mommy knows best.” You nod, eyes unfocussed.

“That’s right. Mommy knows best.” Wanda confirms proudly. “You’re not going to forget that next time, are you?” She asks gently.

“No, Mommy, I won’t forget. I promise to be so good.” You look up at her, nodding, eyes so soft it melts Wanda’s heart.

“Good, sweetheart.” Wanda smiles, before she lowers her head again.

She’s careful when she takes your clit into her mouth, careful to get you used to the stimulation in this state, before she speeds up. She knows you’re sensitive and almost at your limit and she doesn’t want to hurt you, so she builds your next orgasm slowly, her hands stroking the skin of your thighs in a gentle manner, helping your body relax further, all the while she’s touching herself.

When you reach the edge, Wanda can hear the internal battle in your head, thoughts clashing together. You want to beg her to let you come fully this time, you want to plead with her, but you know you shouldn’t. You know you don’t deserve it. You know you pushed her to do this to you, your little transgressions flashing behind your closed lids, before you come to the conclusion that you’ve earned your punishment.

But it’s when you call out her name, her chosen title spilling from your lips in warning of your impending orgasm, that she knows she should take mercy on you.

Wanda holds your hips more firmly, her tongue swirling over your clit again and again in perfect circles and she feels the moment your start to orgasm. Your back arches and you fully expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t this time, holding you down while she helps you ride out your pleasure.

The moment you realize that she won’t stop, you let go fully, your first real orgasm crashing over you in full force and you try to hold on to it for as long as you can, relief flooding your senses and making you sigh and moan in pure bliss.

Wanda falls apart right after you, her moans of pleasure revibrating against you and making your orgasm that much sweeter.

When it’s over you feel overstimulated and spent, but thankfully Wanda pulls away, crawling over your body and making your restraints disappear with a single wave of her hand, so she can cuddle you. Her body brings warmth and comfort and you wrap yourself around her with the last of your strength, nuzzling your face in her neck and breathing her in.

“I’m sorry for being such a brat today.” You say after some time has passed and you’ve had time to gather your thoughts.

“I forgive you, sweetheart.” Wanda murmurs, kissing your forehead and pulling you even closer to herself. “You’re a good girl.” She reassures you, wanting you know that you're safe with her.

After a few more minutes pass and she starts to feel you drift off, she tries to rouse you.

“Let me clean you up first, darling.” She offers as she removes some hair from your neck and forehead.

“Tomorrow, please?” You whine, pulling her into an even tighter embrace.

“All right, sweetheart. Tomorrow. Sleep well now.” She concedes, not having the heart to make you get up, especially with how cutely you’d cuddled into her.

“I love you, Wanda.” You say with the last bit of your strength.

“I love you too, my precious girl. More than you know.” Wanda smiles softly, feeling you start to drift off and allowing herself to do the same.

_____________________________________________

I hope you guys enjoyed this fic! I certainly loved writing it.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

my friend kicks ass in her sleep (quite literally I have woken with bruises and a foot up my arse) and it’s got me thinking...like the cod men are just so unsuspecting, happily dozing next to their s/o and suddenly they just get absolutely obliterated in the balls..

Lol I am TOTALLY like this in my sleep 😭

141+ König With A Reader Who Beats Them Up In Their Sleep

Warnings: mentions of injury/pain, swearing

Simon Ghost Riley-

It was in the wee hours of the morning, and you were feeling incredibly restless. You'd gotten little to no sleep the last few nights and kept waking up extremely hot.

You tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable spot. You peered over at your husband, Simon, who was fast asleep. It was a rare occurrence for you to be awake when he wasn't, so you took the opportunity to watch him for a while. Eventually, sleep finally overcame you once again.

Next to you, Simon was dreaming peacefully. He was dreaming about your future and the small family he'd hoped you'd eventually have. He shifted slightly in his sleep, rolling just a little too close to you. You rolled over quickly, still unconscious, your hand flying out, smacking Simon square in the face.

Simon's eyes flew open as he jolted upright, trying to take in his surroundings. What the hell was that? He heard a snore come from beside him and turned to see your face squished against your pillow, your hand outstretched to where his face was just moments ago.

He rubbed his cheek with a soft chuckle, admiring your sleeping form. He smiled to himself before moving back down to lay beside you. He gently pushed you on your side and pulled you into him as he held your arms firmly in front of you. He'd rather not be slapped awake again, and he wouldn't lie, that slap stung a little.

If you could slap like that, with such force, maybe he didn't have to worry about you being home alone after all.

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You were a horribly violent sleeper. This much was true. Johnny had threatened about a half dozen times that he'd wrap you in bubble wrap before letting you lay next to him again (he never did).

The two of you often slept at opposite ends of the bed, mostly to protect Johnny from your unconscious wrath, but always had a small cuddle session before falling asleep.

Unfortunately for Johnny, the two of you had fallen asleep while cuddling tonight. He had your face tucked in his chest, his arms lazily wrapped around your torso. You started to shift slightly in your sleep, triggering Johnny's eyes to shoot open. He was never a notoriously light sleeper, not until you. He went to move out of the way, but he was just a few seconds too late. You bunched your legs up and stretched them out, kicking him in the balls, hard.

"STEAMIN JESUS!" He croaked, his vision turning white from the pain.

Your eyes opened from the commotion, turning to see your boyfriend's face scrunched up in pain, as he was clutching at his crotch. "Johnny?"

"Y....yep. I'm here." He wheezed, his face still contorted.

You bit your lip to prevent a giggle and moved toward Johnny slowly. "I'm so sorry, babe. I couldn't help it."

"Sssure. Yep." He was still barely able to get words out. "Think you destroyed my balls, love."

From that night on, Johnny always made it a point to set an alarm when the two of you were cuddling, making sure he never had this issue again.

Somehow, throughout the night, you had ended up sideways in bed, your feet hovering around your boyfriend's ass. You rolled over in the bed, restless, stretching out your legs rather aggressively, and ended up shoving your foot in John's ass.

John Price-

You and John had a terribly long day, as you both had priorities that dragged on long into the night. The moment the two of you got in home, you collapsed into bed together.

John awoke immediately, nearly howling in pain, his ass hurting like no other. He turned over to see you sprawled out, still out cold. He sat for a moment looking at you. You'd covered nearly every inch of the bed and were splayed out like a star fish, mouth wide open as soft snores emitted from you.

He chuckled to himself before sliding out of bed, massaging the sore spot on his ass. He grabbed some of the pillows, creating a small row of them as he turned your body to face the right way. As he did so, your legs thrashed yet again, nearly kicking him in the balls.

"Yep, fuck this." He laughed quietly, shaking his head at your antics. He still wanted to sleep near you, however, so he grabbed a pillow and blanket and curled up on the floor next to your side of the bed.

Needless to say, it was more than just his ass that hurt the next morning.

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

Whenever Kyle had spent the night at your house, you'd always fallen asleep together with you as the big spoon. There were times when you'd grow restless throughout the night, and Kyle would be subjected to various forms of abuse from your unconscious state. Tonight was, unfortunately, one of those nights.

During the night, your feet had come to lay on Kyle's back, resting there softly. You'd started to grow restless in your sleep, tossing and turning moving your legs rapidly. Your legs had done a bicycle kick, straight into Kyle's back, sending him flying off the side of the bed.

He awoke with a yelp as he landed on the floor hard. It took him a moment to realize what had happened, as he took in your now fully strung out form on your queen sized bed.

He laid back on the floor and busted out laughing, causing you to jolt awake. "Ky?"

"You literally kicked me out of bed, babe." He said as he caught his breath.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. I can sleep on the couch, it's fine." You moved to get up but Kyle quickly jumped on top of you.

"Gosh no, babe. I'm not gonna make you do that. We can sleep just like this." He chuckled, spreading his weight evenly on top of you.

You let out a breathy laugh before falling asleep nearly instantly. That night, Kyle found a solution to your little problem, and spent every night since then sleeping on top of you.

König-

It was late into the night when you and your boyfriend König had finally fallen asleep. The two of you had cuddled together long into the night, talking about anything and everything. His arms were tight around your midsection as you slept peacefully on top of him, your head resting on his chest.

You were having a dream about your neighbors huge dog chasing you when you felt into a small pothole in the road. Your body reacted along with the dream, and your knees bunched up quickly, coming to rest on Königs balls rather harshly.

König shot up and yowled in pain, causing you to fly off the side of the bed. "Scheisse!"

His hands flew to cup his balls as he started to whimper. You, now being wide awake from being thrown on the floor, rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes and took in your surroundings.

"Kö?" You asked, peeking your head up over the side of the bed. König let out a whimper in response, still clutching onto his manhood desperately trying to rid himself if the pain.

"Oh, oh gosh, did I do that? I'm so sorry, baby." You jumped up and touched his shoulder softly.

König took a deep breath before mustering the best smile he could for you. "'S okay, Maus. It's not your fault, sweetheart." He croaked. He couldn't be mad at you. You couldn't control what you did in your sleep. That wasn't to say this didn't hurt like hell, though.

He slowly pressed a kiss to your forehead before laying back down onto the bed, a cry escaping his lips.

That night, König had built a pillow wall big enough for you to not be able to reach him over. He lovingly promised he'd cuddle with you in the morning but insisted that for tonight, he needed to "Beschütze seine Eier" (protect his balls).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'm trying to post at least one or two requests a day. Thanks for bearing with me🙂🩷

[futterurl]

Hello! I absolutely love the future man writings you’ve done and wanted to request smut for josh futturman. I can just imagine for his first time getting intimate with a partner he just gets so overly eager that he ends up overstimulating himself and his partner hehe

sry ive been gone for a bit schools been kicking my ass ! anyways yeah i got a little carried away sry if this isnt what u rlly had in mind

WARNINGS: fem!reader, titplay, oral(f!receiving), virgin!josh, p in v, creampie, super soft

- - - - - - - - -

it had been a nice day, going out and spending the day with your boyfriend, josh. you two were sat in your apartment, watching a movie, him holding you in his arms while a bowl of popcorn sat in your lap. his hand held onto your forearm, rubbing back and forth lightly with his thumb.

you loved days like this. you loved your boyfriend. he was the sweetest guy you had ever met, and boy were you glad he was yours. he would constantly try to spend time with you, and would try to teach you about the video games that he played. you always looked up to him.

and to him? lord, you were a goddess. you were this kickass woman who was one of his well respected co-workers, you had such a beautiful personality, and you were drop dead gorgeous to him. he fell in love with you all over again whenever he looked at you.

you both tool each other in with your worries and guilts. he knew that you were more shy, and he did a majority of the talking in public, and wouldn’t try to pressure you with anything. he was so kind to you, you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

while you guys were snuggled up, you started to talk over the movie, not paying it much attention. just talking about funny stories that happened in the past.

“…and she caught me. jacking off. in my room. it was the worst thing ever.” josh was telling the unfortunate story of his poor mother just trying to bring him something, but seeing that mess instead. you couldn’t help but laugh.

“god, if that kinda stuff happened to me, i swear, i���d never look anyone in the eyes again.” you laughed.

“this is a random question, and sorry if it’s intrusive, but…have you ever had…like, sex before?” he asked you, sitting up on the couch so he could look you in your eyes.

you shifted, not used to being asked this question. “i…i have. once. it was a mistake. i don’t know why i did it.”

he started to look a little worried. “did he make you do that?” hoping it wasn’t that.

“oh, no! no! don’t worry, i was fine with it.” you reassured him. “i just…regret it, was all. it wasn’t all that good, just a heat of the moment thing, wanting to do it. we fucked, he came, and that was that. nothing special.”

“did he uh…did he make you…y’know…” he tried to ask in the most not awkward way possible, which was still very awkward.

“make me cum? uh, no. it wasn’t…wasn’t really a priority, i guess. just the experience.” you started to fidget with your hands.

“that’s…yeesh, that’s kinda fucked.” he was a little irritated. was it that difficult to focus on a girl for a few minutes to make her feel good? he didn’t understand it. “i’m sorry it wasn’t good. i just don’t get how he could finish and not care that you didn’t.”

“it’s fine. i don’t really care that much.” you were still a tad bit upset over it, but he was out of your life now. you didn’t have to worry shout him, only being in your happiest relationship yet with josh.

“what about you?” you asked him, curious.

“me? oh, uh, this is kinda sad, but i…haven’t done that kinda stuff.” he started. “it just never kinda…happened. moment was never really right. but now i’m here, with you. i couldn’t be happier.” he hugged you, kissing your jaw.

you rubbed the back of his head. you loved this man more than words could describe.

“i don’t know how to ask this in a way that isn’t awkward, but i’m just gonna go ahead…would you mind if i…if i, uh, made you…you cum?” he asked, looking at you.

you looked at him. “a-are you sure? you don’t have to if you feel bad or anything like that, it’s not your obligation to-”

he cut you off, holding your hands in his. “i…i want to do this. it’s not out of sadness or anger for you…”

you gave him an inquisitive stare.

“okay, maybe it is a little bit.” he admitted. “but i really do wanna do this. i’ve wanted to do this with you…for a little bit now, but i didn’t know how to ask, or bring it up. you feeling good makes me happy.”

it was like he was trying to make you fall in love again and again.

“josh, that’s really sweet…i…i do think i may be ready to try this stuff out with you.” you started to get a little shy.

“okay…okay…great.” he tried to hype himself up, telling himself that it’s real and this was happening. “just, uh, tell me if you’re uncomfortable or anything like that, and we can stop, go back to watching the movie, no questions asked, okay?”

you smiled, knowing he was your safe place. “thank you so much.” you gave him a kiss on his lips. he went and deepened the kiss, holding your frame in his arms.

you made out, him slowly getting on top of you, laying you in the couch. his hands went from holding your body to feeling around: touching your hips, your waist, your breasts, everything. he gently caressed one of your breasts, to which you let a moan out at.

“did you like that?” he asked.

you nodded, pulling your shirt up. “please.” you yanked it off your body. he stared at you with awe, your breasts clad with a bra. you looked so beautiful to him.

“can i…can i take this off?” he asked, fingers playing with your bra. you nodded, reaching back and unclasping it.

“how the hell do you unclasp that so easily?” he discarded your bra, asking while staring at your bare breasts.

“lots of practice, i guess. you get used to it after wearing these since the ripe age of 13.” you giggled.

his hand moved towards your breasts, but hesitated. he didn’t want to squeeze them too tight, or hurt you.

“you can touch then, josh. it’s okay. please. i want you to.” you reassured him, guiding his hand to gently caress your left tit. he played with it, new to the sense of it.

“it’s so soft…” his thumb ran over your nipple, causing you to shudder. he could tell you liked that.

“do you think i could…suck on them?” he asked, testing the waters. you nodded your head slowly.

“yes, please. whatever you like.”

“this is about you, though, not me. i want this to feel good for you.” he looked at you with concern in his eyes. sure, he was getting very caught up in the moment, but he knew he ultimately wanted you to have a good takeaway from this: you were someone he loved so much, he wanted to watch and make you feel good.

“josh, i want you to do this, don’t worry.” you smiled at him. he was so careful with you, it made you feel so delicate. so special.

he leaned his head down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. his lips wrapped around it while his tongue ran over it.

you ran your fingers through his hair. you had thought he’d be a boob guy, and this for sure proved it. he loved feeling them, the texture so foreign to him.

he moved on to the other breast, suckling onto your other nipple, to which you let out a gasp at. it felt…good.

he played with your other breast in his hand, giving it gentle squeezes. you let out a hushed moan. you didn’t think it’d feel good.

his head lifted up, kissing you again. it was a deep kiss, his hand digging to play with the hem of your pants.

“please, wanna make you feel good down there.” he pleaded, looking at you for permission.

you had never been like this before. someone focusing on you felt…unbelievable. it really did.

you nodded, unzipping your pants. “please, josh, want this so bad. want you so bad.”

he lifted your hips up, helping you shimmy out of your pants and panties. you were there, completely bare in front of him. he took his shirt off, trying to make you feel more comfortable. he stared at you with awe.

he couldn’t believe you were with him. you were so beautiful, and had an even better personality. he couldn’t believe that you loved him, and that you were willing to do this with him. he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

“is this okay?” he asked, lowering himself, his head in between your legs. he rubbed your thighs, trying to help you stay comfortable. he could see your slick. he wanted to get a taste so badly.

“yes, please josh. please.” you wailed.

he obliged, taking a long lick up your slit.

“oh, fuck…” you moaned. loud. you hadn’t ever felt that good before.

“you okay?” he asked, making sure he didn’t do something wrong.

“i’m great, just felt really fucking good…holy shit.” you looked down at the sight of him, in between your thighs.

he dipped in again, this time bringing his tongue to lay flat on your clit. you shuddered, feeling all sorts of sensations. he held your hips steady, running his tongue in tight circles around your clit.

you swore to god, you could hear him groaning into your cunt. he was letting out little noises in exasperation as he pleasured you, rubbing your clit with his tongue, getting into a rhythm.

“jesus christ, josh, i’ve never felt so good, fuck…” you could barely get the words out in between moans.

he licked another stripe down your slit and ran his tongue on your entrance. you tugged at his hair a big, cautious yet excited to see where this was gonna go.

his tongue slowly crept inside of you, feeling around as you scratched at his scalp, letting little whimpers out. he held tightly onto your thigh as he started to tongue fuck you.

you threw your head back in pure ecstasy. you were starting to get close.

“josh…g’na come soon…fuck…” you panted out.

“please.” he said, moving his mouth up and tasting you all over. “do it f’ me. come on my face. please. you’re so hot. fuck. come all over me.”

he moved his mouth and latched onto your clit again. from there, he just sucked. your orgasm approached.

you let out a cry as your hips started to spasm ever so slightly, your body contorting. josh continued to suckle on your clit while you rode out your orgasm.

“oh my god…” you breathed. “how are you so fucking good at that?”

he lifted his head up, mouth coated in your cum. “don’t know. just pure talent i guess.”

you lightly pushed him. “fuck you.”

“i mean, if you’d be ever so kind.”

you looked at him, starting to laugh, but understanding what he wanted: you.

you moved yourself closer to him, closing the space in between you two.

“please.” you said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “i..i think i’m ready for this. fuck me, josh. please.”

“fuck, i’m so fucking hard for you right now, holy shit.” he kissed you, lying you back down on the couch. he pulled his pants down, huge erection standing up in his underwear.

“do you see how crazy you make me? you’re so perfect.” he looked down as he slowly started to take off his underwear, cock standing out.

you blushed. even in situations like this, he still made you feel so special.

he got on top of you, cock springing out, almost touching your delicate folds. you shuddered.

“a-are you sure you wanna do this, josh?” you asked him. doing something like this for the first time was really important to you, so you hoped you could make it important to him.

“yes, there’s no one i’d rather do this with than you.” he kissed you softly, sliding his cock through your slit, bumping his tip to your clit. you both groaned lightly.

“i…i’m gonna put it in now…okay?” he asked for permission.

you smiled. “yes. please.”

he used one of his hands to steady himself and his other one to hold yours as he slowly pushed inside of you. he was feeling all sorts of new sensations, all good like he’d never felt before. your walls clenched around him. he let out a moan as he slowly inched himself inside you.

you held his hand, gripping it tight. it had been awhile since you’d done this. it was a big stretch, but it felt so damn good to have him inside of you.

he finally bottomed out, cupping your cheek. “you’re so tight…oh my god…i knew it’d feel good but…didn’t expect this…” he was breathing heavily, catching up with his senses. he felt like he was going to cum just from being in you.

“josh, want you t’ start moving.” you pleaded, feeling so full but desperate for friction.

he obliged, giving experimental thrusts and letting out low groans in the process. your tight walls kept sucking him in, as if they didn’t want him to pull out.

“fuck, you feel so good. i love you so much.” he started to thrust a bit faster now, hands on your hips, holding you steady. every time his hips met yours you could feel yourself groan with delight. even though this was his first time, he wanted to take care of you.

he started to thrust hard, moaning sweet nothings into the room. every word he said professed his love for you and your body.

one thrust in particular hit a certain part inside you that made you let out a really high-pitched moan. he stopped, looking at you.

“shit, you okay?” he asked.

“yeah, m’ fine, that just felt really good.” you gave him a smile.

he tried to angle his hips to hit that sensitive spot again, which he was successful with after a few harsh thrusts. he abused that sweet spot with every thrust, leaving you a moaning mess. he took your lips into his, kissing you like your lives depended on it.

“josh, close, shit.” you could barely form words with how good you felt.

“me too, gonna cum, fuck.” he started to move incredibly fast, moving like there was no tomorrow. “please, cum on my cock.”

you could feel the knot on your stomach start to snap, riding out your orgasm. you were letting out these pornographic moans that were driving him insane, leading him to cum right after you did.

but he didn’t stop.

“feel too damn good. can’t stop. shit.” he continued his quick and deep thrusts, leaving you screaming.

“josh, can’t. already came. oh my god.” you were a moaning mess, feeling his cock penetrating your tight walls right after having an earth shattering orgasm.

“please, need you to cum again. wanna make you feel better than you’ve ever felt.” he moaned, trying to hit that spot inside you with every single thrust, making himself feel overstimulated in the process.

you felt another orgasm start to bubble up inside you as he kept going. the knot snapped yet again when he led his hand to your clit, rubbing it in circles with his thumb.

“cum for me, please. cum. wanna make you feel good. please. need you to cum on my cock again. i’ll do anything.” he begged and pleaded, bot stopping his aggression to your cunt.

you were practically screaming, head thrown back and breathing like a madman. he helped you ride through your orgasm, him taking a few extra seconds to reach his own again, as well.

he eventually stopped, laying on you carefully as to not hurt you.

“sorry, got…got a little carried away.” he said in between breaths. he felt so woozy.

“no, it felt really good josh. thank you.” you wrapped your arms around him, holding him as he lay on top of you.

“was it that good?” he asked, making sure you got as much satisfaction as he did.

“i’ve never felt that good in my life. serious.” you replied. he knew how to make you feel special and really good. “you’re amazing.”

he held you, planting a kiss on your cheek. “i hope you know how much you mean to me. i love you so much, and i wanna be with you forever.”

you were practically gushing. he was so darn cute. “i love you more.”