#this one i have to have in my little pocket though. put the chicken fingers down etc

[mittland]

bruce springsteen backstage in philadelphia, august 23, 2024 (photo by rob demartin)

[ruesol]

ex-convict!Sukuna drops whatever he’s doing (killing a man) and runs to you after you text him for some much needed comfort.

(part of my ex-convict!Sukuna x academically burnt out reader series.)

cw: fem/afab reader, explicit sexual content, stiff sex talk, slight dom behavior on Sukuna’s part, and of course, attempted murder

——

Sukuna’s knuckles ache because of the force he just put on them.

The man in front of Sukuna looks haggard, blood dripping out his mouth and pooling on the cool, wet tar. Sukuna’s jeep is still parked out back, and in it was the money he had brought for the exchange of a particular package.

“Fucking hell,” the man groaned as he used his elbows to to lift his torso off the ground. “Still didn’t think you had it in you, Ryomen.”

Pathetic. Even with an almost broken nose and bruised eye, his opponent found some repulsive thrill in mocking Sukuna.

“You said you’d give me what I needed if I had the money. Why’d you try to pick a fight instead?” Sukuna walked over to the man, gun in hand as he clicked it. “I thought I told you I didn’t want any funny business. Got locked up once already and I’m not afraid to do it again.”

The man’s elbows trembled as he tried his best to summon up whatever pride he had left after getting beaten up by his former accomplice. “Shoot me. You know shit won’t end well for you even when you’re locked up. I’ve got people everywhere,” he chuckled, spraying blood on Sukuna’s boots that were now face to face with him.

Sukuna kneels down on one knee and cocks the gun in the middle of the man’s forehead. “You have some nerve to be talking up a storm right now.”

“Just get it over with, Ryomen,” the man barked.

Sukuna pushes the barrel onto the man’s forehead, making him hiss when the gunpowder makes contact with his skin. “Fine,”

His finger presses against the trigger and—

Vibrations. His phone vibrates in the loose pocket of his jacket. His victim looks confused. “Chickening out alread—“

Sukuna hits the man’s temple with the gun. That’ll knock him out for a while. He fishes his phone out and his heart lurches when he sees that it’s a couple texts from you.

come over. Right now

Please

His heart and mind conflict again. On one hand, he has to finish his pathetic job and on the other hand, you’re waiting for him at your apartment.

All soft, and probably teary like you usually are.

And forget the word ‘please,’ you never texted more than two words to him. Ever. It was always either “your place” or “not today.”

Sukuna stares at the passed out man on the road and debates on whether he should throw him into the woods or just leave him be.

In the end, he decided that he’d just leave the man be. They were in the middle of nowhere anyway and cops didn’t patrol the area as often. And even if they do find him, it’s not like they’ll get involved anyway—the giant tattoo on his arm was enough to prove that his condition was a product of gang violence.

Well, that, and you were a little impatient (as much as you never admitted to it.)

His friend called him smart—using a young and insecure college girl for ‘pussy’ (as he put it.)

But deep down inside, he knew it was more than that. His vehement heart gushed when he’d see you cling to him with tears in your eyes, body soft and warm for the taking and heart broken beyond compare.

The fact that you needed him to stabilize your mind spoke volumes to him. It reminds him that you wanted him in your life as much as he did you.

Though his desperation wasn’t as veiled as yours. You were quick to push him away after you’d get what you needed.

His truck juxtaposed with the other much smaller cars at the guest lot at your apartment complex; just like in reality, where he starkly stood out wherever he went. Shoulders too broad, height too towering, and face too rugged with scars and tattoos. The universe’s spotlight shines on him every time he makes a move.

Sukuna takes a gulp of water from the crinkly plastic bottle in his cup holder and swishes it around in his mouth so he could clean up the taste of blood. He walks over to a nearby bush and spits it out. Viscous carmine smears the myrtle leaves, weighing them down as each drop of blood drips into sod.

After getting into your apartment building’s elevator and pressing the button for your floor, he wipes his mouth one last time while staring at his blurred reflection on the dirty mirror wall to get rid of the wetness left behind.

He lives life in segments. There was before you—jail, during you—the arrangement you both have now, and maybe, if he fucks up or goes back to jail—after you.

He didn’t want to imagine what that would be like. In his mind, your existence was hauntingly infinite, reaching into his brain’s every crevice and immersing it in your scent.

Maybe it’s because he’s had to rely on his senses to navigate difficult situations for a long time, but he feels like he can smell traces of you as soon as he reaches your door. His cock aches against his jeans when he’s reminded that your shampoo still lingers on his pillow.

And how he touches himself to it at night.

He doesn’t knock and only sends you a text that he’s standing right outside.

You open the door a moment later, with your hair a mess and your T-shirt a size too big for you.

The picture of Sailor Moon on it rids him of vestigial jealousy because now he knows that it doesn’t belong to another man.

Your eyes are glassy and your face is swollen. If you didn’t shut him out as often he would’ve asked you what happened. But all he can reckon is that something or someone must’ve hurt you badly enough to call him to your apartment for the first time.

You wear your heart on your sleeve but you never speak out the words to Sukuna. But that’s enough for him. A temporary salve for the perpetual ache in the core of his chest.

He digs his blunt fingers into his palm to rid himself of the itch to comfort you by holding your waist and stroking your hair.

Your gaze falls onto his mouth, making your shoulders tense up and your lips press into a line. Silent judgement. “Is that blood?”

“Uhh..” He wipes whatever remnants of dried blood he had on his mouth and dusts his hands on his thighs. “Do you care?”

“Not really.”

“Good.” He doesn’t want your thoughts to linger on its cause so he grabs the back of your neck and slots his mouth against yours.

His teeth ache at your sweetness even when he can taste the strong mint left behind by your toothpaste. ‘Cute,’ he thinks. You were preparing for him.

His tongue prods open your lips, running it along your tongue and the hollow of your mouth. Saliva drips down both your chins as he pushes you into your apartment and slams the door shut with a kick from his steel-toed boot.

His sloppy kisses swallow your groan as you fist his faded denim jacket and press your chest against his, only the thin barrier of your T-shirt standing between your bare breasts and his warm body.

He’s quick to slam your back to a wall, and when he finally pulls away to catch his breath, you see the ravenous look in his eyes, black void replacing red irises.

His hand trails down to the hem of your T-shirt, and rucks it up to your collar.

And for a moment, he simply stares at your semi-bare body. Tits flushed and nipples hardening with every passing second, panties dampened and inviting, and your scent—

So saccharine and musky.

“Up,” he orders. You gulp and diligently raise your hands, and he pulls your T-shirt off in one swift movement, discarding it in some random corner of your studio apartment.

He doesn’t even hear the ruffle of the fabric landing because the roaring of blood in his ears renders him selectively deaf—the only sounds he can hear are the slick movements of your tongue nervously stroking your bottom lip and your heavy breathing. His dick is painfully hard, and the sight of you only makes his patience edge closer to splintering.

His heady gaze moves from your breasts to your eyes and you immediately look away. Almost like you’re afraid he’ll see past the lust and know why you called him out of nowhere. Especially since your meetups were usually calculated.

A day after a bad exam.

Right after a study session with your judgemental friends.

Or right before an important quiz.

But this was out of the ordinary. He’d mull over it later. His dick was starting to take over his brain.

His large, calloused hand grasped your neck and lightly applied pressure to the column of your throat as he kissed you once again. This time, dragging his tongue along the outline of your bottom lip before pulling away.

He drags a single hand down your neck, to your sternum and at last, rests it on top of your clothed mons. The hand that was choking you groped your breast, thumb brushing against your nipple as he buries his nose in your neck and takes a deep whiff.

Your underwear isn’t that special—it’s just a random white pair that had been sitting in your unkempt closet, but to him, it felt like an invitation to stain it with his spend. He made a mental note to secretly snag it on his way out. The smell of your shampoo on his pillow was dwindling into nothingness anyway.

Sukuna’s fingers inched down to the damp gusset, pressing on your covered clit, making you gasp and grind slowly against his thick fingers. “Let’s go to my bed,” you huffed out with a frown.

He moved away from your neck, resting his nose against yours. “Not yet. I wanna do something first.” The metallic notes in his breath make you scrunch your nose.

Syzygy. He blocks out the dim cloudy afternoon glow in your room with the vastness of his shoulders. A behemoth in presence and practice.

Sukuna kisses your lips and then begins to trail his mouth down your body, branding plum-colored stains onto your neck and breasts. His tongue finds your nipple and his incisors lightly nip it before he gives it a hard suck, making your hands immediately move from his shoulders into his hair.

He grunts when you tug his hair to get his attention. “What are you doing? Let’s just fuck and get it over with.”

Foreplay wasn’t a common practice between you two. And even if one of you did initiate it, it wasn’t anything more than a light make out session.

Your usual hookups would start with a few tongue kisses, followed by fingering so you could take his girthy cock in your sore pussy, and then a quick “I’ll text you later” from you before both of you went your own ways.

You never gave him head and neither did he you. You weren’t there to enjoy, just get your fill and go. The painful stretch of his cock opening up your pussy was enough to make you temporarily forget about your perpetual worries.

You mewl when he slaps your clothed pussy. “I’ll give you what you want if you let me take what I need.”

It’s a demand. More predatory than imperative.

He hisses when you lightly tug his hair before answering, “fine.”

Without breaking eye contact, he gets down on his knees and tightly grasps your thigh in his large mit, fingers digging into the muscle and fat. He slots his mouth against the soft flesh of your inner thigh and you bite your lip.

The tip of his tongue darts out to lick all the way to the crux of your pelvis and rests it against your clothed cunt before situating your thigh on his shoulder, sodden pussy basically pushed to his mouth because of the force.

His eyes roll to the back of his head when the scent of your arousal engulfs him. He sucks the fabric of your panties, priming his tongue with your juices as his fingers undulate your ass.

“At least take them off first—fuck,” you groaned out. He doesn’t listen, though. Instead, he only sucks harder, tongue directly prodding at where your swollen clit is.

Sukuna was never a vocal man but the sounds escaping him sounded like they came from the depths of his carnal desire for your pussy. His groans reverberate through you as your head leans back against the wall, trying to find some stability as he takes you to the edge and brings you back over and and over again.

After what seems like forever (to you), Sukuna slots two fingers down the front of your panties and yanks the flimsy fabric down. And without much warning, he splits your pussy lips with thick fingers and licks up a stripe from your slick hole to your glistening clit. His tongue circled around your hole, licking away whatever arousal dripped out.

His fingers soon replaced his tongue, prepping you to take his cock soon. You could never get used to the feeling of his hefty middle and ring fingers inside your cunt. They were always too rough and long, reaching into the parts of your body that your smaller and daintier fingers couldn’t.

His tongue laps at your sensitive nub, kissing it at unexpected intervals before harshly sucking it again like he did with your nipple. His fingers curl when he finds the spot that makes you sing, and your teeth let go of your lips as your body tenses when the wave of an onset orgasm washes over you.

The knot in your core, snaps and you cry out your release as you roughly pull at his disheveled pink locks.

Your limbs shiver, making Sukuna only hold you tighter so you wouldn’t collapse. “I’ve come, that’s enough,” you rasp out through deep breaths.

But his obstinate self did not listen to you. At your cries, he pulls out his fingers, but continues licking and making out with your pussy, eating you out more for his pleasure than yours.

“Please, I’m really sensitive. Just—just fuck me already,” you groan.

He knows you want him gone. He knows that he’s made you feel good enough to the point where now you need him to come.

Something grotesque in him grins at the thought of ruining any man that comes after him in your life.

Not that it’ll ever happen, though. He’ll make sure of it no matter what.

You didn’t know it, but you were always going to be his girl. Even before you two had met. Life had been pushing you around for this very moment—where he’d take you and keep you for himself forever.

Everything about the situation is so perfect. You’re bare, limp and needy, and he’s clothed, has all the power and is the only man you’ll ever need.

When he stands up, you realize how much he holds over you with his figure. Strength in one of his hands alone renders you weak against him. With his eyes trained on yours, he drags his hands from your ass to the back of your thighs and hoists you up, resting your spine against the cold cemented wall once again.

He unzips his pants and pulls down his boxers, precome already staining them. He’s painfully hard and hisses when he pushes his stiff cock against your hole, notching his leaking head at your entrance.

Alarmed, you gaze up at him with furrowed brows and swollen lips. “What about the bed?”

“Too impatient. I’ll fuck you there later.”

Later.

Later never happened with you two. It was always strictly whatever you wanted. You dictated how many times you wanted to go. You always had all the control, and now, he was slowly pulling it out of your timid grasp.

Before you can ask him about his implication, he pushes himself into your quim completely, hissing at the tight muscle contracting around his length. You yowl as your hands wrap around his shoulders and the back of your head tips against the wall.

“Shit,” he mumbles into your neck.

“Just move and finish up,” you whisper, still breathing hard.

“No,” he’s quick to interject.

“No?” The stretch of your hole around his cock makes each second feel like agony. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Look me in the eye when I fuck you,” he dictates against your lips.

“Will you go after that?”

“Do you want my cock or not?”

When he pulls away, he waits for your eyes to meet his.

And when they do, he slowly pushes himself into you, your chest coming close enough for your breasts to press flat against his pecs.

You try not to think about why he suggested so in the first place.

It’s almost as if he feels rejuvenated after looking into your eyes, even when your breasts deliciously bounce as his hips pick up speed as his balls slap against your skin. Your walls clench tighter and tighter as he bullies his cock into you over and over again, precome priming you for his final spend.

Fat droplets of tears roll down your cheeks and he kisses them away before they can reach your jaw and roll down your neck. He licks a lone tear and savors the saltiness. You’re everywhere: on his mouth, skin, cock, and mind.

Infinite; red hot iron branding the imprint of your face in his brain so whenever he closes his eyes, you’re all he can see.

His thrusts get sloppier as he finishes, excess come dripping down your thighs, and his own. He groans into your mouth, kissing your tongue to sooth his semi-soft and sensitive cock as he pulls out of you.

The feeling of cool air against your thighs reminds you of the rivulet of combined juices dripping down your legs.

Before you can wobble your way to your bed to final rest your legs, Sukuna picks you up in one swift motion, uncaring that the fluid between your legs is dripping on his arm, and walks over to your bed and lays you down.

—

Turns out later, meant going three rounds in two hours.

After Sukuna had eaten you out and fucked you against the wall, he was insatiable. Only wanting more, going as far as to making you warm his cock in your pussy till he got hard again.

Spent and sweaty, you now slept soundly in his arms. Uncaring that he had pushed you to break every rule you had set up. That too, in your own home.

He clicked his teeth as he remembered your surprised face when he casually said that he wanted to fuck some more. As usual, you were wary of him at first, but when his fingers stroked your clit the way you liked, you were pliant and malleable for his bidding.

He glances around around, finally getting a good look at your abode.

It’s not what he imagined it to be. It’s a mess: takeout containers stuffed to the brim in tightly tied plastic bags, cans of energy drinks huddled around your computer on the desk in the far corner of the room. Polaroids of your friends lay haphazardly on your coffee table, seemingly untouched with the film of dust gathering on them.

For a college student, the decoration is bleak and the lack of a living room makes him feel like there’s no space for him in your apartment. Much like your heart.

But that’s okay, he will take whatever he can get. Even if he can’t quell the curiosity has about your life away from him.

So he decides to put an end to it (only for this instance.) With only his boxers on, he walks to your computer, which, surprisingly, does not have a password.

He browses around, only finding assignments for classes that seem too complicated for him to understand. Maybe even for you too, with the way you’ve been sleeping with him more often than before.

And then he finds it—the reason why you called him to your sanctuary, the one place he was never allowed to step foot in.

An internship rejection email.

——

If you’re seeing this, thank you for reading!!

[kusanagihaku]

the other on my heart

⭢ haku x mc, 2.1k

If you are sliced open right now, you think, if you erupt into flowers right this moment - you will bleed the same gold that shone in Haku’s eyes that first day on the train, the same gold that shines now whenever he looks at you, all affection and adoration, devoted and devout. or: Haku’s got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel, and… on ao3 here / masterlist.

belated birthday fic for @ghoulspaw but i'm two months late (;´ - `;) happy birthday ily!! inspired by this one mel post and haku's affinity 11 voice line about the woes of the people and our screaming crying throwing up in the dms about driving!haku with his hand on your thigh... thank u for screaming w me abt haku always… haku gfs club 4ever... i hope u enjoy!!

“That should be all,” Haku says, surveying the trunk. 

It is packed full of tightly-taped boxes, brown cardboard tops messily labelled in a chicken-scratch scrawl barely readable by dim streetlight. You squint at the top-most package, and check the last item off your list – red mizuhiki strings, requested by Festival Stall #28 – then click your pen shut. 

“That should be all,” you confirm. 

Haku reaches up to slam the trunk shut. 

“It was a good call to borrow a car from Alan,” you say, as you get into the car. “I don’t know how we’d haul all this back within one trip.” 

Haku laughs, tugging the driver’s door closed. “I should be thanking you, then, since you were the one speaking to Vagastrom.” 

You tuck your clipboard back into the tote bag at your feet. “If I didn’t convince Alan, Subaru would have spoken to Sho.” 

Haku laughs again, a short huff as he leans in over the centre console. The proximity sends a flush up your neck, especially when you feel his nose brush your cheek, followed by the soft press of his lips. “Thank you for doing it, then, so our captain didn’t have to.” 

Even though it’s been months of this it still sends a shy swell of adoration through your lungs every single time. You turn slightly to reply, but Haku is reaching across you with his right hand, long fingers catching on your seatbelt before pulling it across you. His lips don’t leave the edge of yours as he murmurs, “Your seatbelt, princess.” 

If you turn just a little more, you’d feel the press of his lips against your own– 

But there is nothing stopping you, you remember, nothing stopping you from tasting the honey of his words straight from the source– and so you do, and he kisses you sweetly, gently, heart-thumpingly–

It is so easy to pretend, that you are just two people, out running errands and heading home for the night. That everything is ordinary, that after this, you will unlock your doors and unload your groceries and put everything away, and spend the rest of the moonlight murmuring in the warmth of each other’s eyes. 

But there is a beep from your phone, a sharp crack in the still of the car, a snap of notifications and reminders that you are nothing but a tool of Darkwick–

When you pull away, Haku sighs.

The smile he offers you is tired and rueful, and he straightens back up to start the car as you dislodge your phone from your blazer pocket. 

“It’s Subaru,” you say, apologetically. “He’s asking if we managed to find everything okay.” 

Haku drums his fingers against the steering wheel. The gold of his watch catches the streetlight as he begins to manoeuvre the car out of the parking lot. “Guess that’s our cue to head back.” 

You tap out a short update to Subaru before leaning back into your seat. When you sneak a glance at Haku he is half-lit by the red of the stop light, one hand resting on the top of the steering wheel and the other resting loosely in his lap. 

You bite your lip. “Haku.” 

His eyes flicker to you. 

“Thanks for inviting me to come with you,” you say, quietly. You worry the edge of your phone case with your fingernail. “I know it wasn’t a mission and you could have asked the general students to do it, but it was nice. Spending time outside of Darkwick. With you.” 

Haku’s returning smile is the sort of fond only ever reserved for you; it makes you want to melt into him, gentle, safe, your personal equator. He reaches over to take your hand, carefully tangling his fingers into yours. “You look like you needed it.” 

He gives your hand a squeeze. It squeezes your heart. 

You squeeze back. 

The lights turn green, and you settle into silence. 

Time comes in waves, on the road - you are looking at him, fringe falling into his eyes, then at the twinkle of city life and flash of taillights, then at the way Haku’s fingers have molded themselves into the shape of yours, steady and sure and soft, and then suddenly it is all gone and you are faced with the blank canvas of black road and the expanse of stars above you that you cannot see. 

The car hurtles towards your destination. 

Before Darkwick, you’d bemoaned having to do chores, having to spend time doing supermarket runs, doing laundry, doing paperwork. But now, having had stood in line for wagashi for hours, Haku’s head dipping towards yours in shared secret laughter, having had sprawled out on the floor of Haku’s room, buried in mission briefs and reports, having been pinned against the thrum of your washing machine, cradled between the heat of Haku’s palms— what wouldn’t you give, to do those things with him forever. What wouldn’t you give to wrap around time like this, to repeat your everyday in his company, to spin forever in each others’ orbit like two dust motes from a star that have never been apart. 

Your intertwined fingers flash gold under the passing highway lights. 

In another life, you think, this could be your everyday – white noise on the radio, road humming beneath your feet. Haku humming along, painted in city glow, framed in mundanity. Haku, with his hand in your lap and his name on your lips and his heart in yours. Haku within reach, always. 

“Do I take this exit or the next?” 

Haku’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you squint at the tiny text flashing across the screen to his phone. The words are too small, however, and so you have to somewhat reluctantly let go of Haku’s hand to reach for where it has been propped up as a navigation system on the dashboard. 

His hand drops to your thigh. His palm burns through the grey of your skirt, thumb brushing along its hem. 

“This one,” you say. The pad of his thumb is rough against the bare of your skin. 

You lean forward to set his phone back on its stand. The movement dislodges his hand; as you settle back into your seat he slips it neatly under the hem of your skirt, and gives your inner thigh a squeeze. 

“Haku,” you say, warningly, smiling, and he laughs in surrender. His hand returns to the steering wheel. 

He does not take the exit. 

“Haku–“

“I know,” he says. He glances over at you again. “There’s a place at the next exit I want to show you. You can see the city lights and all, from up there.” 

You hesitate for just a fraction too long, thinking of the report record you’ll have to fill up, and Haku reaches to take your hand in his again. “Just for a little while, I promise. You can just write it up as us taking the wrong exit and losing our way for a couple minutes.” 

God, he’s too persuasive. 

“If you’re going to murder me,” you say, at last, “I won’t tell Darkwick.” 

It pulls another laugh out of Haku, startled and bright, and you lean into it like you’re drinking the sun. 

“You say that like I could ever live without you, princess,” Haku says, grinning at the road. His voice is lighthearted. Neither of you mention the fact that he will soon have to. 

It takes a while to get from the next exit to the top of the small hill that Haku decided upon, but as Haku slides the car headfirst into the parking lot you see why he has chosen it. 

The car park is empty, with only a pair of dim streetlamps at its entrance, but beyond that– oh, beyond that–

The city sprawls out beneath your feet. From this overlook you can see the rise and fall of buildings, dotted with tiny lights that flicker on and off with every movement of your eye. The cars on the highway you left behind crawl like ants to and from their kingdom; the clouds, lit a dim purple from below by the glow of the city, hang low across its occupants. 

How far away you are now, from this life. How far away you will be. 

“I’ve always liked the city lights more than stars,” Haku says, quietly. The soothe of his voice shatters your thoughts into tiny, brilliant pieces the way it always does, rounding their sharp edges into something muted, dull. “People are always going on about stargazing and stuff, you know, but you can barely see them, most of the time.”

You turn to look at him, turn to look at the way his earrings brush the sharp of his jaw. His head is tilted against the headrest, eyes half-closed as he stares out at the cityscape. 

“But every light I see here,” he says, softer, his hand sliding again into your lap, sliding home, “every light in every window is a person. They’re going about their lives and getting their groceries and doing their laundry and thinking about their problems and celebrating their successes and they’re just one in fourteen million people who are doing so.” 

He does not look at you, not yet. His thumb runs along the inside of your thigh, starts a dim burn in the hollow of your spine. “It makes me feel insignificant, sometimes. That I’m just one in fourteen million people who are just struggling along. But then I remember, that out of these fourteen million people, on that one day on that one train at Kisaragi Station, I got to meet you–“ 

They say that gods are invisible, but when Haku half-turns to look at you, then, haloed only in yellow streetlight and dashboard glow, you think you might know what holy is supposed to look like. 

Your own personal angel, with his hand on your thigh and his voice low and tight in his throat like a prayer. With the green of his fringe shaded grey by the night, but with the gold of his eyes glowing bright all the same.

“This life kinda sucks,” Haku murmurs. When he leans in across the console to tip his forehead against yours his breath ghosts across your lips. “But in my next one, I’m hoping that in these fourteen million people, I’ll get to meet you again. And we’ll do whatever we did today together again, but this time every day, again and again, for the rest of our lives.” 

“Haku,” you breathe, but your voice is tangled up in your lungs, and there is a heat behind your eyes that threatens to leak–

But then you are kissing him something soft, sweet, lips on his like you are speaking, praying his words into existence. And he is kissing you back, something yearning and yawning and needy, something shaking and pleading, like he is willing the universe to make it happen; he kisses you like the press of your lips have the power to turn back time, like the curl of his tongue can rewrite your ending. 

When you break away, gasping for shared breath, eyelashes tangled in his and your trembling hand on his hand on your jaw, blinking away your thoughts like stars in the winter, this is what you write into your memory of tonight: 

That if love is a place, perhaps it is in the cup of his palm, in the soft of his laugh. Perhaps it is in the press of Haku’s shaky smile against yours as you pull him in, again and again, kissing him silly in the middle of an abandoned parking lot. Perhaps it is not in the promise of forever, but buried in the cracks of everyday vice-captain and inspector duties, in the minutes he has carved out for the both of you in the moments you have remaining. In the heat of his hand on your inner thigh, in his breath in your lungs, in the unshakable assurance of I’ve-found-you-too-late-in-this-life-but-I-promise-you-I’ll-find-you-in-the-next. 

That if you are sliced open right now, you think, if you erupt into flowers right this moment, you will bleed the same gold that shone in Haku’s eyes that first day on the train, the same gold that shines now whenever he looks at you – all affection and adoration, devoted and devout. 

“It’s a while yet until curfew,” Haku murmurs. His words are warm on your cheek as he pulls away. His hand slides higher, higher, as he looks at you, begging. “Shall we stay a while longer?” 

[ppssession]

It wouldn't hurt to switch roles sometimes.

Denis is a skinny nerd who looks very weak during his school break. Instead of having a relaxing break, he has to work at a seaside resort to earn money to survive because he is alone with no parents

One day while he was working hard, he met the son of the owner of this resort. He was a hot guy with a hot body that made my heart flutter. He was often at the beach showing off his beautiful muscles. He came to stay here during the school break. He seemed to be the same age as me, which made me feel a little jealous because our fates were so different

Later, I often noticed him disappearing into a small stone alley to take a nap during the day. When he was sleeping, I would often sneak up on him to watch him. I admired his handsome face while he was sleeping, which made my heart beat faster. When I returned, I would sometimes be reprimanded by my boss for disappearing for a while One day while I was cleaning my room in the morning, I found a strange coin. It had small letters that said “Switch”. I was a little surprised when I looked at it, but I didn’t really care. After I finished cleaning, I walked out of the room and looked at the beach. I saw a young man who had made my heart flutter not long ago. Even though I had been watching him for a while, I still didn’t know his name. I tried to ask my boss, but he gave me a stupid reason that a temporary employee like me didn’t need to know the name of the resort owner’s son. Even though I was hurt, I couldn’t do anything. At work, I didn’t even have any friends to talk to.

Not long after, my boss ordered me to bring him sunglasses. "Why didn't he go get them himself?" I thought to myself as I brought him sunglasses. When I arrived at the beach, I didn't see him. I knew immediately that he must be in that small stone alley. When I arrived at the stone alley, I was shocked to see him lying naked. Normally, he would wear pajamas, but now he took off his pajamas to reveal his big, long penis. Its thickness made my heart beat very fast. I stared at it, looking at every part of his body as he slept. But suddenly, I felt a vibration from a coin in his pocket. When I opened it, I found a strange coin that shook and glowed. I took it out and saw the small letters that said "Switch". It was shining very brightly. I don't know what made me say "Switch". Suddenly, my body slowly changed.

I screamed as my muscles changed. It was no wonder that no one could hear me, because the alley was quite far from the resort. But the strange thing was that no matter how loud I screamed, the body of the resort owner's son did not respond as if he could not hear me. My body gradually changed for the better. The muscles that were once thin gradually thickened until they were equal to his. My height quickly increased until they were equal to his. My face gradually changed as well. My eyes, nose, and mouth gradually changed to be his. The pain gradually decreased as almost everything gradually became his. Or was it only my penis that remained unchanged? But before I felt comfortable, my penis gradually expanded. Its size and length gradually increased. As its size and length increased, I felt as good as if someone was using his mouth to worship me.

When it was equal to his size, I reached my climax, my body trembled as I was released, I breathed heavily, looking at my changed body, running my hands over every part with satisfaction, this face, the curves of my muscles, and this genitals, it was so wonderful. I looked at the still body of the resort owner's son, his body slowly changed and shrunk into my old body. Seeing this, I smiled wickedly, took off my old clothes, stole the swimming trunks that were lying next to him to put on. "It feels so good to have a new chicken." While putting it on, I looked at the strange coin that had fallen as I slowly changed. I picked it up. When my finger touched the coin, memories of the resort owner's son flooded my mind. Addresses, passwords, family preferences, everything came to mind. "I finally know your name, Six. I am now Six Mason, the son of the hot resort owner. Denis walked out of the alley in his new identity. After walking for a while, he looked at his old body walking back to work and was reprimanded for being gone for so long. "Poor Denis, my old self." Denis, who was now Six, wore sunglasses and walked back and forth on the beach to show off his hot body like the old Six used to do. "Well, I have to think about what to do next in this new body when I get back to the resort. “I think I’d rather have fun with my new chicken, haha,” he said as he reached into his pants pocket to grab his penis that was slowly becoming hard inside his pants.

This is a story requested by a lovely follower. I hope you, the readers and those who requested it, will enjoy it. Haha, if there are any errors, please help me fix them. I hope to continue writing stories like this. See you in the next one. Bye bye.

[fictionandfixation]

DOCTOR'S ORDERS #1

Stardew Valley: Harvey x Shane x AFAB!Reader

Monkey ask, monkey get. Here is Part I. Hope you guys like angst and pining and obsession and shit because there's loads of it. yall who replied in my notes, have fun: @mongoosingisme @voideggs @chickensinrainboots @7reya

Shane x reader is coming too for all u grumpy chicken man enjoyers. Allow the buildup baby. It WILL get sluttier. Much. Much. Sluttier. This is only like a fifth of the parts of the fic that are written so i can release more if you guys likey!

Summary: Harvey gets jealous and goes on a rescue mission. A memory of a very hot day at the beach threatens to ruin the tranquility of your life in the valley. An unfortunate moral problem gets in the way of you and your devastating crush: that you happen to be his patient, and that he happens to be a total professional.

Warnings: Intent to have semi-public sex (you didn't think i was gonna give it to you this early, did you?). Power dynamics. Slutty use of the title 'doctor'. Jealous!Harvey. Unconscious!Reader but no somno (maybe squinting reeeally hard). Age gap. Harvey is a total weirdo at the start of this fic. You guys will enjoy that though no doubt. Rating: Mature.

MDNI. Chapter under the cut. This shi long asf.

Part I. Beach

Harvey pulled up at the side of the road. The desert was no small place, but he knew exactly where she’d gone - as he had done a million times before, he locked his little green vintage car and strode through the sand towards the caves. He had absolutely no idea how she’d even found this place, but the second she had, no one in town had heard the end of it. More time spent up at the adventurers’ guild, more bringing bagfuls of geodes for cracking open over to Clint’s. He huffed a sigh, and his eyes softened with sympathy as he saw her, snoozing almost peacefully right by the entrance to the caverns. He checked her over; she was battered, cuts and bruises littering her limbs and face. He scooped her up into his arms, and she brought her hands to her stomach, resting her head against his chest. There was no denying that now she’d opened these mines she had somehow, rumour had it, become fantastically wealthy. It didn’t matter to him. She was killing herself in the process.

“Safe now,” he whispered, carrying her back across the sand and laying her gently down in the passenger seat. He leaned across her seat to buckle her seatbelt and felt her soft breath on his neck. She made a small noise as she turned her head, and Harvey felt his stomach lurch, allowing himself a glance sideways at her as he fastened the belt across her waist. “Hope that’s comfortable, sweetheart,” he whispered again, the speech carried away with the desert wind. Probably for the best. He lifted her chin with one finger to untuck her hair from the seatbelt, cringing as the belt made a screeching noise against the leather seat. She leaned into his hand, lips brushing against it, and he quickly retracted his touch, closing the car door with a soft click and heading around to the driver’s side. He flexed his fingers where she’d touched them, and just in case she was awake, pressed them to his mouth whilst she was still outside the car.

He removed the hand and sidled into the car, resting his forehead for a moment against his steering wheel. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath, and, checking she was still out of it, reached into his pocket. He pulled out a box of Marlboro Golds, put one between his lips, dug in his cup holders for a metal lighter and flicked it to life, lighting up the cigarette and rolling down the window as he started the car. Don’t smoke, you’re supposed to be a doctor. He could almost hear her saying it. He blew a stream of smoke out of the window. The car was old and small, and she was sat almost too close for comfort; a turn out of the desert sent her sideways, and her head came to rest against his shoulder. Harvey almost shuddered, tapping the brake lightly, an ache deep in his chest causing him to take a long drag of the cigarette. Please. Please stay there. Please. Please.

They spent the rest of the drive home like that. Finally, Harvey pulled up to the medical centre and burst through the door, throwing his possessions asunder and digging through his drawers until he found a vial of green life elixir. He tossed his cigarette butt in the trash, then ran back out to the car. He put a drop of the sweet elixir on her tongue, his breath catching in his throat as his finger and her tongue met briefly, and then applied it to her wounds, gentle. He slid back into the car and kicked it into gear to drive her back to her farmhouse. It was such a quaint little spot, he always thought; very roomy, he had considered when she’d invited him in for coffee a few months ago. Room enough for two, a little voice in his head had said, and he’d kicked himself, glancing sideways over the brim of the mug she’d given him at the door of her bedroom.

He plucked her like a leaf out of the car, strong, practised arms no match for her. Still asleep, exhausted, she nestled into his chest. Harvey felt a pang of something cold and unpleasant down his spine. Guilty, guilty, guilty. Just tell her. Just tell her how she gets home. She has to wonder. What is wrong with you, you sick fuck? It raced through his mind every time he saw her, every time they shared a bottle of wine and some fruit from the farm with Elliot and Leah at the bar. She had this awful, sweet, teasing habit of fixing his tie when she’d had a few drinks - it was always a little crooked, and she would flip up his collar, pull it from him and retie it for him, hands around his neck and chest. Every time she did it, his hands shook, his neat, moustached face blushed red and he all but turned into a half-set custard.

She was so kind it made him sick. It made him think about killing someone. Crippling jealousy would creep up on him as he saw her buy Shane a slice of pizza or a beer, really the only one in the town who made an effort with him. It paid off, too - she brushed it off, but Shane shamelessly flirted with her, flashing her a wry, bad-boy grin and shrugging off his hoodie to reveal broad shoulders, thick, strong arms from working on Marnie’s farm and a smattering of hair at the collar of his shirt whenever she came into the saloon. And Alex, who constantly complained of going too hard on arm day, was often rewarded with the sweet farmer’s thumbs digging into his shoulders, causing him to groan dramatically and pretend to collapse onto the table, to the laughter of all of his peers. Leah, fresh-faced and beautiful, would often receive fresh goat’s cheese from her, and would pepper her cheek with kisses in thanks. Haley would bite her lip and squish the farmer into a tight hug when she brought her sunflowers. Maru would squeak in delight when she brought gizmos and spare parts and bushels of strawberries to the clinic, while Harvey seethed in the office, staring down the jar of pickles she’d handed him at the door. And Elliot. Elliot was who Harvey felt the worst about. They were such good friends, talked and laughed with each other, and yet, on evenings when he saw Elliot interact with the farmer, all he felt was a burning, intense jealousy that made him want to hit something. Elliot was a wordsmith, charming, dashing, silver-tongued. He always had something to say, some coy, sly joke to throw into the conversation, and he could coax a giggle out of the farmer even on the worst of days. She was obsessed with his hair, and treated him sort of like a glorified doll, braiding and running her fingers through it, much to the redhead’s delight. He knew it wasn’t like that. Some deep primal part of him was just convinced otherwise.

Harvey, in comparison, was just a man - meek, bookish and uninteresting. Besides, he was older. He wasn’t sure how much older than her he was - never ask a lady her age, of course - but it was probably in the region of about ten years, if not more. Harvey himself was just shy of thirty-six, salt and pepper grey already streaking his brown hair and his moustache, the maturity and quiet of a lonely sort approaching middle-aged dousing his personality. She had a fiery spirit, beautiful blind positivity about everyone and everything, an energy to her that he could never hope to keep up with. Astonishingly pretty. Funny and courageous.

No. No chance.

He dug in her bag and found her keys, unlocking her door and settling her gently on the couch. He observed her, sweet face illuminated by the embers of the fire she must have lit before she left, and stroked her hair a moment.

“See you tomorrow,” he murmured as he left, locked the door and posted the key through the letterbox attached to the front door, shoving the usual note into her mailbox as he left.

*****

“Come on, come on. Come and sit with us.” You were laughing, trying to coax Shane into coming to sit with you, Harvey, Elliott, Leah, Sebastian, Sam and Abigail. “C’mon, three of them are emo as fuck. You’ll like them, sad man.”

“That ain’t earnin’ you brownie points,” Shane replied with the twitch of a smile, Deep South accent soft and gravelly after a couple of drinks, and allowed himself to be dragged by the front of his shirt. “Ain’t all of y’all people about ten years old? Or is it twelve?”

“Old enough for another beer,” Sam snorted. “You guys want anything?” He stood to go to the bar, and there was a chorus of ‘no thanks’. Shane made himself comfortable at the table and draped his arm over the back of your chair. You weren’t too interested in Shane - a conversation you’d had with him already - but you were both the same brand of talkative, hands-on drunk, and there was a doctor-sized void in your heart to fill, so you casually flirted with him sometimes. You could see why the idea might have made its way through the town. Abigail had straight-up cornered you outside the mines and asked you if you were sleeping with him.

“Oh, my God, Abbie. No.”

“Dude. He’s all over you like a rash,” she laughed.

“Gross analogy, Abs. I can see where you’re coming from though. Nah, don’t worry. We’ve talked about it, y'know. It’s chill.”

“Didn’t know you were into older guys,” Abigail teased and nudged you as she accompanied you to the adventurers’ guild.

“Whatever. I’m just not that obsessed with Shane, dummy,” you pushed her back. “However partial to an older gentleman I might be. And I’m not going to complain about a little pudge. I like ‘em kinda cuddly sometimes. But yeah, we just flirt. I guess he's hot or whatever but... not a serious kinda guy, is he, anyway?”

“Oh, so you are into older guys.”

“Shut the fuck up Abigail.”

"Damn, full name. All right, if you say so, farm girl."

The tavern was getting crowded, Harvey sitting right across from you, smiling quietly at your jokes with Abigail. Sam slid a beer over to you. “Just to say thanks for the help with the band.”

”Oh! Thanks, you didn’t need to.” Sam was a sweetheart, but he was a little young to be interested in you, and you were glad of it. Now, if we were talking about someone a bit older, like Abs had been saying… there was an obvious choice here. Elliott was a real sweet talker, but he could be a little much at times. Besides, your friendship was a little too strong to be thinking about him in that sort of way. Shane was off the cards, you reckoned, as you'd asserted fairly heavily that day on the way to the guild. He was a charmer for sure underneath the icy, gruff exterior, but it was just as you’d said to Abigail - he wasn’t really a long-term sort of guy. And so, of course, that left Harvey. Oh, Harvey. You’d wondered how you got home from the desert after it happened the first few times. You wondered if you’d somehow not remembered staggering back onto the bus, but every time you were back home you woke up smelling of coffee and cigarettes and a very familiar smoky cologne that you couldn’t quite place. One morning, you had walked past Harvey early, right after both of you got up, and caught him in his private occasional smoking habit ("Don't smoke, you're supposed to be a doctor."); then, everything fell into place as a breeze ruffled his hair and that familiar cologne wafted pleasantly under your nose. Oh, yeah. It was him all right.

You’d always been interested in him, sort of fascinated if you were honest - a quiet, reserved type who liked to read in the grass and always diligently patched you up when you came to him with a monster bite, hands so tender and gentle. He was probably about a decade years older than you (fresh and spry at twenty five), and much taller as well, with broad shoulders and thick hair and oh, God, that moustache. You loved how mature and smart he was, how his hair was littered with a little silver, how his forehead had a few frown lines on it. Handsome, for sure, with that hot-dad kind of appearance it was hard to stay away from. But he kept to himself, so you had thought you’d better just soldier through your crush and take a cold shower and let him be. But the news that he was going out of his way to make sure you were safe, to make sure you were warm and asleep in your farmhouse every night… it had flared something up in you that you hadn’t felt for months, and now, that nagging crush was worsening again. That was the last thing you needed right now.

There was, admittedly, once you thought something might come of it, however short-lived, and since then you’d really been down bad for him. You’d gone swimming in the shallows of the sea with Harvey, Elliot and Leah in the summer, and suddenly the sky had cracked open like a fat blue walnut and started pouring floods of rain on top of you. You and Harvey had taken shelter in a tiny cave off the coast, Leah and Elliot deciding to race barefoot to Elliott’s hut for some towels and coats. You’d laughed yourselves sore watching them go, Elliott’s salty hair waving in the wind, Leah falling on the sand, Harvey’s hand on your shoulder to guide you into the cave away from the downpour.

“God, it’s freezing. Come on, let’s at least be dry.”

“Colder in here than it is out there,” you shivered, wiping tears of laughter, and he ran his hands up and down your arms to warm you as you squeezed into the cave. You laughed harder, taking his hands. “Oh, fuck, stop, tickles!” It was barely even an alcove, hardly big enough for two. And all of a sudden, Harvey was very, very close to you. So close, in fact, that you could feel the heat coming off his skin. You were silent for a few moments, catching your breath. His chest rose and fell with intensity from laughing, smile fading, and then you could see his lips moving towards yours, and then your hands were on his cheeks and then you were up against the wall and then he had frozen, millimetres away from a kiss, mouth slightly open, breath heavy.

“Shit,” he whispered, and stepped back. “Oh, shit, shit, shit. I’m so sorry, I didn’t - I didn’t mean-” He tried to flatten himself against the opposite wall of the cave, trying anything to get away.

To no avail - you could still feel his breath hot on your neck, shallow and nervous, could see the vein in his neck fighting for dear life to pump blood to his quickening heart. You stole a glance down towards his trunks, dark hair littering his lower stomach. He turned to the side in embarrassment to shield himself from your sharp, apparent gaze.

You touched the tips of your fingers lightly to his waist. "Harvey." His hands found the wall behind you, enclosing you. "Harvey, I want this."

“Don’t.” he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as your hands drifted up his damp chest. The next words came out as a whisper; he squeezed his eyes shut as though in pain and dipped his head towards your neck, lips inches from your flesh, breath hitching in his throat. “This isn’t right. And I-” he swallowed nervously. “I won’t be able to stop myself if I start.”

“I didn’t take you for the rough type, Doctor,” you murmured back, your hands travelling lower, to his stomach, and he let out a shuddering, shaky breath.

“You don’t know what you’re doing calling me that,” he looked away, jaw clenched, restraint evident on his face. Yet, he did not move. “I can’t. I can’t, I can’t do this- please-"

“Why? Do you like it?” You gazed up at him, eyes heavy-lidded. You were utterly fixated on his face, the slight purse of his lips as he fought to keep his hands where they were, the flutter of his gaze as his arms rebelled, leaving the wall behind your head and hovering just shy of the flesh of your hips.

“I’m begging, sweetheart, you have to stop, you have to tell me you don't want this,” he breathed raggedly, and his hands closed on your waist as your hands found the sides of his neck, bringing his face away from your neck. Your lips were inches apart, and his gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips. You’d never heard him like this, danger and pleading in his voice at the same time. You were entranced. You closed the distance, and pushed your lips against his. He jolted with shock, and then gave in, kissing you deeper. He pushed his hips against you lightly, groaning low and rough into your mouth, pushing you back against the wall behind you again and running his palms down your sides, settling his fingers on the hem of your swimsuit. “Come on, they’re going to be back any second- I- if we go any further…”

The mere thought got you worked up. Harvey taking you against the rock like an animal, rough and unsteady, panting in your ear, just as the others discovered what you were doing… the very idea made you feel absolutely wild. Your eyelids drooped, bedroom eyes taking on a life of their own, and you felt your mouth dropping open as your breath became heavier.

“You want to ruin me?” you said, breathless. “Then ruin me.”

He covered his mouth with his hand for a moment in indecision, and then quickly removed it, knitting his brow, silent for a moment. He pursed his lips and glanced to the entrance of the cave. “Fuck. Fuck, okay.” He spun you around in what little space you had, bent you over against the wall and entangled a hand in your hair to keep you there, pulling roughly back and leaning in to plant a kiss on your neck-

“Got towels!” There was a call from a way off. The sun was back, and Elliott was at the mouth of the cave in no time, tossing a couple of towels in. Harvey muttered a curse, tore himself from your body before the redhead could discern what they were doing, and turned away, breathing hard, and you quickly stood up before Elliott saw. Harvey caught a towel and wrapped it loosely around his waist to cover up what you’d done to him, and he all but ran out of the cave.

That had been...it. Harvey had been almost silent ever since, but you could see him bristling every time you shared a beer and a cigarette with Shane or braided Elliott’s hair, every time Sebastian gave you a socially awkward sideways hug. Every time you headed out to gossip hand in hand with Haley or borrowed Emily’s clothes you could feel the stare boring into you. You’d made a habit of prodding at what was clearly a jealous streak just to see what would happen, dressing up, putting on a little outfit you thought he’d like; this evening, a long sleeved black cotton top, hugging and well fitting, short heels, a skirt. Only recently had he plucked up the courage to speak to you properly again. He hadn’t mentioned what had happened at the beach, but he was (almost) up to his old self.

The experience in the cave was grinding at your head every moment of the day. I want to ruin you. Oh, god, you wanted him to do it, but you were convinced he hated you now - whether because of what had happened at the beach or over your friendship with the town’s other bachelors. It didn’t matter which. He was a no-nonsense kind of man, mature, professional and to-the-point, and you felt so deeply guilty for teasing him like that, for not giving him space. He was a man with a reputation to upkeep - of course being caught like that wasn’t on the cards for him, so of course he’d resent you for almost talking him into it.

The taste of him had never washed out of your mouth. You had wanted him then, but you needed him now. It had been months since the beach and all you’d felt were pangs of shame and desire and idiocy whenever he met your eyes over his glass of wine whilst you were trying to distract yourself with a drink with Elliott or Shane or Maru, whenever he brushed your shoulder in Pierre’s. It was torture trying to keep away, trying to pretend you didn’t have the most criminal crush on him, that you didn’t want him to march you into his supply cupboard in the medical centre during your check-up and press you into the wall and cover your mouth to keep you quiet and just do whatever he wanted with you. No one had ever reacted to you like that, begging, pleading, threatening, as though you were sin itself. No one had ever made you feel like that in so short a moment, like you were theirs, like they could commit atrocities against you which would make the devil blush and you wouldn’t bat an eye. No one had ever made you want them so badly you would have risked being seen getting railed in a fucking cave by two of your closest friends.

Shane clinked his glass against yours and sent you a wink. Harvey’s foot slid beside yours under the table. You laughed at Shane, trying to shake off the feeling that the shoe beside yours was there on purpose.

*

Okay yall that's it for now. Slutty af, unrequited af, moral dilemma af, yeehaw shane af. Tell me how you like it. As I said - chicken man x reader and more escapades of a lewis and marnie nature to follow between reader + harvey!

also i am very open to changing bits of this, so let me know what kind of plot points u guys wanna see in the future! Love from Fic&Fix <3

[leahsgirl]

dramatic much | ella toone x female reader

veryyy short ella blurb to get back out there. no warnings.

sorry for my disappearance - writers block got the complete best of me and i hate every draft i make.

—

ella busied herself in the kitchen, occasionally stopping stirring the sauce in the pan to re-read the recipe on her phone.

some may say she’s been a little too aspirational in opting to make a three course meal for herself and you, considering she can barely make a bowl of cereal without something going wrong. but with her being away so much with with international duty and pre-season duties lately and little time for just the pair of you - she wanted to do something special.

in all fairness, everything was going to plan. she prepped the veg in advance, seasoned the chicken, and is yet to call alessia to come and save her (and the meal).

but nothing is ever easy in the world of ella toone, so as the brunette was jamming along to one of her notorious spotify playlist as well as peeling potatoes; she accidentally managed to slice her finger.

“fuckin’ el” she retracted her hand back in a jolt, watching in horror as blood pumped out of the small but painful cut.

she’s pretty sure this is the end, any minute now and she’s going to die from a haemorrhage which is why in a swift motion - like any self respecting adult would do - she whipped out her phone from her back pocket.

“hey babe.”

“how far away from home are you?”

“about five mins-ish, why?”

“i’m gonna die man! you need to hurry up.”

“what do you mean, what have you-“

but ella hung up and there you was; heart rate through the roof as you sat driving your car. it didn’t take long for you to get back though, probably breaking a few speed limits here and there.

“ella?” calling out as soon as you entered the premises.

“in the kitchen!”

you find the girl hunched over the counter-top, about thirty pieces (not an understatement) of kitchen roll wrapped around her hand. “what have you done?”

“bloody sliced my finger open.” you see the half peeled vegetables on the chopping board and piece two and two together, letting out an airy laugh “let me have a look.”

ella propped herself up onto the counter as you gently unravelled the tissue paper to reveal… a small cut. barely a nick, really, but enough to have your dramatic girlfriend convinced she was at death’s door. “oh my god you are such a hypochondriac.” 

“mate it was like a blood bath in here i nearly died.” the mancunian defended herself as you hummed along amused, searching for the first aid kit.

“it’s your fault too.” she vindicated.

“of course it is.” you said with a grin, playing along “what did i do?”

“if i wasn’t cutting potato’s for this meal i was making for you, then it wouldn’t of happened.” she huffed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“or maybe you and the kitchen just aren’t meant to be.” you opened a sachet of antiseptic wipes and motioned for her hand. “but i love the thought and effort.” you kissed her lips while slying cleaning the wound.

“shit shit shit!” the brunette pulled back and immediately went to wave her hand to stop the stinging “what you do that for?!”

“would your dramatic ass let me do it if i had told you? the answer is no.” you smiled sweetly at her and put a plaster over the cut. “there. all better.”

“wait you forgot something.” looking expectantly at you as you cleared away the rubbish. “what?”

“kiss it better?” you laughed at the childish behaviour but gave in, conceding a quick peck on her finger. “i’ve never known anyone as dramatic as you, ella toone.”

“good thing you love me isn’t it?” she hopped off the kitchen surface and smacked your butt.

“mhm. now go get changed so i can put that shirt in the wash.” pointing to the scattered red marks on the material.

“fine, but i’m stealing your hoodie.” she called over her shoulder as she made her way to the bedroom.

_

well what was supposed to be ella’s culinary masterpiece ended up being your handiwork. after convincing the girl she’d done enough damage for one night, you took over in the kitchen, following the recipe she found. to your surprise, the meal turned out pretty tasty. ella hovered around you the entire time, watching your every move like an eager student, offering unhelpful advice and distracting you with cheeky kisses. not that you minded—it was nice to see her so invested, even if it meant she spent more time fussing over her finger than actually helping

with dinner over and dishes abandoned in the sink, the pair of you was settled on the sofa, scouring the tv for literally anything to watch. ella was cuddled into your side, messing with the remote as you combed your fingers through her hair.

“why don’t we see what’s on netflix? i think there’s some new shows out.”

“ugh there’s nothing good on netflix anymore.” the brunette moaned.

“you’re so hard to please sometimes y’know.” you teased as you took the remote off her and put on a movie both of you liked, one that you watched together more times than you can count “happy?”

ella nodded, “i’ll go grab some snacks.” she manoeuvred off you and the couch, bending down to steal a kiss on the corner of your mouth, the brief contact leaving you grinning. you watched her disappear into the kitchen, hearing the familiar clatter of cupboards opening and the rustle of packaging as she gathered your favorites.

she was back after a couple of minutes, hands now full with a bowl of popcorn, a bar of chocolate and two cans of pop. “here you go m’lady.” she said with a mock bow, gracefully placing the bowl on your lap and handing you one of the drinks. “thanks babe.”

she went to the other couch and picked up the blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders like a cloak and making her way back to her personal pillow (you).

“ah! shit shit shit!” the older girl was now hopping around holding her foot.

“literally what’s just happened?” you look on in disbelief because realistically how many accidents can this girl get herself into.

“stubbed my bastard toe.” ella hissed through gritted teeth “think i’ve broke it, swear I heard a crack”

“oh for fucks s-“

[morri-draws]

Gwaine x Reader - 'The Threads That Bind Us' - Chapter 16

FINAL CHAPTER

Story Summary:

You, a humble dressmaker from Camelot’s lower town, are commissioned to make a new gown for Queen Guinevere. Impressed by your skills, she offers you the position of Royal Clothier. During your time in the castle, you catch the eye of one of the knights of King Arthur’s inner circle, Sir Gwaine. What starts as a sweet courtship is turned upside down when misfortune strikes and you must deal with the aftermath, as well as an unwelcome visit from Gwaine’s unpleasant sister.

Rating: Mature

Tags: Female Reader/Gwaine, set between seasons 4 and 5, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 2,984

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

Read on Ao3

[this chapter is explicit]

Feeling adventurous, you decide to go to the market in the afternoon. Once there, basket in hand, you ask a woman running a poultry stall for a pie recipe. Having brought paper and ink, you write down the ingredients and method as she tells you, before purchasing one of her freshly plucked chickens.

After collecting the required vegetables, flour, butter, eggs and herbs, you return to your chambers and start preparation, forming and rolling out the pastry before chopping the vegetables and chicken. Following the written instructions to the letter, you assemble the pie and place it in your cast iron pot on some coals in the hearth, put the pot’s lid on, and shovel coals over the top to cook it evenly.

You sit down, wiping your brow with the corner of your apron when there’s a knock at the door. You stand, hastily untying the apron and setting it on the kitchen bench, before crossing the room to answer the door. Gwaine greets you with a smile and steps inside.

“I’ve just managed to put dinner on, hopefully it won’t be too long before it’s ready,” You say.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,”

“You say that, but I don’t have much culinary experience besides making stew,” You invite him to sit by the fire next to you. “How was your day?”

“Alright, back at training of course,”

“I still feel like it’s too soon,” You frown.

“Arthur doesn’t have me swinging a sword again just yet. I was mainly holding a shield while getting walloped,”

You grimace. “Sounds like fun,”

Gwaine chuckles. “I will admit, I hope to be fully recovered sooner rather than later. I miss going out on patrol,”

“Sick of the same old castle walls, are you?”

“A little,” He shrugs. “Though not when I’m with you, of course,” He grins.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, I almost forgot; how was your evening with Merlin?”

“Really good. I wish we could spend more time together, but we’re both so busy usually, especially him. Still, I should try to make more of an effort. It doesn’t do to neglect one’s friends,”

“Perhaps if tonight’s dinner turns out, he could come here for dinner some time?” You offer.

“I’m sure he’d like that,” He smiles, before shifting his chair closer to yours, taking one of your hands in his and clearing his throat. “I wasn’t entirely open with you about what I was going to be doing last night,”

“Oh?” You raise your brows, your heartrate increasing with alarm.

“I did see Merlin, but before that, I went to a blacksmith, with whom I’d placed a special order,”

He reaches into his pocket and procures a folded handkerchief, which he places in his palm. Carefully unfolding the fabric, he reveals a ring, which he holds up between his thumb and index finger for you to view.

“This kind of ring originates from Hibernia, where my family is originally from. The heart here,” He points with his other index finger, to the centre of the ring’s motif. “Represents love. The hands on either side of the heart represent friendship, and the crown atop the heart represents loyalty. All these things I offer to you,” He looks into your eyes, his gaze so tender, you feel as if you might melt. “I love you, (Y/N), with all my heart and soul,”

“Oh, Gwaine,” Your voice wavers as you fling yourself into his arms, your tears falling on his shoulder. “I love you,” Is all you manage to mumble into his shoulder, your arms wound tightly around the back of his neck.

He laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Do you want to try it on?”

You pull back, nodding as you wipe your eyes on your sleeve. He takes your right hand, carefully sliding the ring onto your third finger. Reaching into his pocket again, he retrieves another ring, slightly larger than your own.

“One for me too,” He smiles and puts it on, before raising his hand to show you. “When you wear it on this hand, with the point of the heart facing out like this, it signifies that your heart belongs to someone,”

“There’ll be many broken hearts upon seeing that ring on your finger,” You grin.

He chuckles. “I think you overestimate my appeal,”

“Well, whatever you think,” You cup his cheek in one hand and rest your forehead against his. “I know that my love is very handsome,”

“And I know that my love is the most beautiful woman in Albion,”

You scoff. “Hardly,”

“You mock my words, dear lady, but how would you explain why my heart soars whenever I lay my eyes upon you?”

You open your mouth to retort, but before you can say a word, Gwaine’s lips are on yours. Having no objection to this particular interruption, you hook your arms around his neck to pull him close and deepen the kiss. Your chair rocks, the unexpected movement startling you, causing you to break apart.

“Are you alright?” Gwaine asks.

“My chairs aren’t really ideal for this. Would you care to…” You trail off, gaze moving to your bedroom door.

“I would,”

You stand and take Gwaine by the hand, leading him into your private chamber. Once inside, you turn to face him, as he looks about the room.

“I’ve been wondering what it looks like in here,”

“Really? And why, pray tell, would you have been wondering that?”

“Do you really have to ask?”

He smirks, stepping forward and burying his face into your neck, softly nibbling your skin, hands snaking up your torso. Shivers run through your body as he hooks a finger over the top of your bodice lacing.

You take his hand in your own to stop him. “I believe it’s my turn,”

You reach for his belt, sliding the leather through the buckle to remove it and throw it aside. Slipping your hands under his tunic, you run them over his bare skin, getting your first feel of his body, before pulling it up from the hem. He raises his arms to aid you in pulling his tunic over his head, which you also toss aside.

Your eyes glide over his body, his abdomen and arms contoured by lean muscles. Your gaze is drawn to the scar on his side. You gently caress the unmarked skin just beside it.

“Does it pain you still?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “Hardly at all,”

He leans his forehead against yours and begins unlacing your bodice. Once he pulls out the last section of lacing, you tilt your head up, catching his lips with yours while shrugging your shoulders, making it easier for Gwaine to pull the dress off. It falls to the floor in a heap around your legs and you kick off your shoes, leaving you in just your shift and stockings. He cups one of your breasts in his hand, sweeping a thumb over your hardened nipple, evident where it’s pressing against the fabric. You slide your hand down his abdomen and slip under the waistband of his trousers, continuing down until you find his hard length and wrap your fingers around it. His breath hitches at your touch, which thrills you, and you move your hand up and down the length, his skin hot and smooth to the touch.

Gwaine moves a hand under the hem of your shift, the backs of his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh, before slipping a gentle finger between your folds, where you are already slick with anticipation, finding the spot where he brought you so much pleasure the previous day.

Hooking your fingers under the hem of your shift, you lift it over your head and throw it to the floor. Gwaine guides you backwards, until your calves hit the edge of your bed and you fall atop it. He stands back for a moment, gaze sweeping over your nude form, eyes dark with desire. He crawls onto the bed, on top of you, until his arms are on either side, enclosing you between them. He leans down, kissing you passionately, his dark hair creating a curtain around your face.

Shifting his weight to one arm, he strokes your skin with his other hand, from the hollow of your neck down, cupping each breast, moving over your waist and hips, feeling your curves, all the while, his hardness pressed against your leg. He returns a finger to between your folds and caresses you there, kissing you between your heavy breaths, before moving his kisses along your jaw, and your neck, and nibbling your ear, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin.

“I want you,” You say breathily.

You’re throbbing below, aching for him, aching for what you feel pressed against your leg. He pulls away, your body suddenly cold without him against you, and stands beside the bed to pull off his trousers, fully revealing himself as he steps out of them. You prop yourself up on your elbows to admire him properly. The evening light filtering through the window accentuates his features, and in that moment, you wish you were a painter, so you could capture his perfection.

He crawls onto the bed and kisses you, his tongue searching for yours, his hardness against your side, the hot skin against yours, rather than a layer of fabric between. You run your hands down his back, his skin warm and smooth, and reach around his backside, giving it a firm squeeze. His lips break apart from yours as he chuckles at your boldness.

He slips a finger between your folds again, stimulating you there again in small circular motions, before moving lower to slip a finger inside you. feeling how slick and open you are, he adds a second finger, pumping in and out while still massaging your bud with his thumb. It feels amazing, but you want more of him. You reach a hand down and find his cock, wrapping your fingers around it and begin slowly pumping.

“I want you,” You pant, as you feel him becoming even harder in your hand.

He raises his head, gaze meeting yours, pupils so swollen that you can hardly tell the colour of his eyes.

“Please,” You add, voice hardly more than a whisper.

He removes his fingers from within you and repositions. You open your legs for him and he places one hand on your thigh, and uses the other hand to position his cock. The tip slips between your folds, sliding over your bud back and forth. Your core pulses, yearning for him to be inside you, and you shoot him a look which he must understand, that you cannot wait any longer. The tip slips down, hovering at your entrance. He leans down and kisses you, one hand cupping your face while the other supports his weight, and he moves his hips forward and enters you. your lips break away from his as you gasp, and he stops.

“Is that alright?”

You nod, wrapping your legs around him, using them to pull him closer, so his entire length moves inside you, his hips hitting your thighs. He sighs, running his hands along the soft skin of your inner thighs, then grips them as he pulls back and thrusts forward again, repeating this, as you relish finally having him where you want him.

He moves one hand and begins to work you again with his thumb, while continuing to thrust, your breaths becoming short and sharp as your pleasure rises. You reach for his face, pulling him down to kiss him. He moves the hand from working you, wrapping that arm behind your back firmly, and flips you around so that you’re on top of him. He scoots back, slipping out of you with the movement, until his back is against the wall. He beckons you and you edge towards him, rubbing a hand along his thigh, before swinging one leg over him and taking his cock in your hand, guiding it back to your entrance. Once he’s inside you, you both wrap your arms around one another, your bodies pressed against each other as you move together, panting between kisses.

He slips a hand between your legs to work you again, a moan escaping your lips at the added pleasure, which rises with each stroke and with each thought of him – how close you are, how he feels, looks, his own expression of pleasure, his flushed cheeks, messy hair and dilated pupils, and the fact that he loves you, and is yours and only yours.

You reach your crescendo, breathy moans escaping as your body bucks and squirms while Gwaine holds you tight against him, your core pulsing around his cock, still inside you. Once you’ve ridden out your climax, you rest your forehead against his with a sigh. He kisses you softly, wrapping his arms around you and slowly tilting you backwards, until you’re flat on your back. You open your legs, inviting him to continue. He moves closer, grabbing one of your legs and holding it against him as he enters you easily, since you’re slicker than ever from your own climax, thrusting as he grips your thigh against him. His breaths become shorter and faster until he moans and quickly pulls out, spilling his seed onto the sheets beside you. He breathes heavily and meets your gaze, shooting an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about the mess,”

He climbs off the bed, finding his trousers on the floor and removing a handkerchief from one of the pockets. Returning to the bed, he wipes off his mess and puts the handkerchief aside to lie beside you. You snuggle up to him, resting your head against his chest as he rests an arm around your shoulders.

“I love you,” You say, wrapping an arm around his waist.

He tilts your chin up with a finger so he can kiss your forehead. “I love you, (Y/N),”

You sigh contentedly, feeling perfectly comfortable exactly as you are, as if you could close your eyes and drift into sleep, when you feel a pang of hunger from your stomach.

“The pie!” You exclaim, sitting up in alarm.

You scramble out of the bed and pick up your shift, hastily pulling it on, and leave the bedroom for the hearth, using a long-handled iron hook to lift off the pot lid. You peer into the pot to see a sad and shrivelled pie, the edges burnt black while the rest is an unpleasant shade of brown.

“No,” You groan.

Gwaine rushes from the bedroom in just his trousers and stands beside you, inspecting the damage.

“You were making a pie?” He asks.

You nod sadly. “I was inspired by the pie shop’s pies. I never expected to make anything as good as theirs, but this… this is inedible,”

You return the lid to the pot so you don’t have to look at your failure any further, and drop onto the nearest chair.

“What are we going to eat now?” You droop you head in your hands.

“Hey,” Gwaine steps beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s alright; we’re not going to starve,”

“But I haven’t got anything else; not enough to make up two meals, anyhow,”

“Have you forgotten something?” He kneels in front of your chair, resting a hand on your knee.

“What?”

“My knightly privileges,” He grins. “I’ll head down to the kitchens and see what I can get for us,”

You sigh. “Alright. Thank you,”

He smiles as he stands, then heads for the bedroom, returning a few moments later, fully dressed.

“I’ll be back soon,” He pecks you on the cheek and heads out.

Gwaine returns about twenty minutes later with two plates of food balanced precariously in one hand, and a pitcher of wine in the other. You help him lay them out on the table and retrieve cutlery and tankards from the cupboard. He pours the drinks and you both sit down for the meal.

“Thank you, Gwaine. You’ve saved the night,” You take your first mouthful from your plate.

“I do hope that even if we ended up having only bread and butter for dinner, that the night wouldn’t have been all bad?” He gives you a sly look.

You chuckle. “Quite right, it would still have been a wonderful night,”

He grins, and you both continue the meal in companionable silence, having worked up quite the appetite.

“Do you ever wonder how things might have been different if you hadn’t seen me looking lost in the courtyard that day?” You ask once you’ve cleared your plate.

“Well, I’m sure someone else would have helped you, and I still would have been sent to you for a new cloak,”

“Well, what if I didn’t get the position here then? Would we ever have crossed paths?”

Gwaine is thoughtful for a moment. “I like to think so. I believe some things are fated. We probably would have run into each other while buying fruit buns,”

You smile. “Perhaps we would have,”

“Anyway, I don’t think it’s healthy to spend too much time thinking on what could have been, or in this case, what could not have been, especially when things have turned out so happily,” He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You give his hand a firm squeeze. “So, so happy, Gwaine,”

He looks at you tenderly. “Then everything has turned out as it should, for I am the happiest man in Albion,” He raises your hand to his lips and kisses it. “Now finish your drink. I would like to get back to other activities before the night is through,”

“Would you, indeed?” You raise your brows.

He nods casually. “If my love has no objection?”

“None whatsoever,”

[bunnydol]

the corn maze

alex the farmer x fem!afab!reader

contents: exhibitionism, public, almost caught, established relationship, dom/sub dynamic, use of “sir”, slight degradation, spanking (f!receiving), spit, choking, piv, fingering (f!receiving), mention of breeding, overstim, ask to tag

w/c: ~2.7k

from the cottage: the corn maze was a big hit this year! odd how all those puddles got in the hay, though. it didn’t rain…

++Love ++Exhibitionism

it had been your idea to open up a corn maze this fall.

granted, it was a hell of a lot of work, given the amount of corn that needed to be grown into an intricate pattern, making sure there was enough hay on the ground so mud wouldn’t permeate through and get everyone’s boots dirty. the preparations had started in late summer, and now, by late fall, your shared side hustle was booming. the young orphan kids all pooled money to take the bus and get out to the farmlands to enjoy the fall festivities, some of the townsfolk drove their way out to see what the two of you had put together.

you huffed as you lugged over one of the last hay bales into the cow feeders, wiping your gloved hands on the front of your dress before walking over to your long-term boyfriend (“s’ already like we’re married, don’tcha think? i can get ya a ring, but yer already my li’l wife.”), peeling your gloves off and holding them out for him to take. “cows are fed. did you feed the dogs?”

“mhm,” alex hummed, taking your gloves and shoving them in the back pocket of his overalls for now. “dogs are fed, horses are gettin’ ready to be turned in. sun’s still high, though.”

you glanced up towards the early dusk sun, the bright orange burning your eyes a bit, but making you smile. “true. and there’s still plenty of people coming in to run around the maze… have you gone in at all yet?”

“hm? no, i haven’t. been too busy makin’ sure everyone paid before going in.'' he took his hat off to run his wide fingers through his hair, keeping it away from his forehead before setting his hat back down.

everything he did was attractive, somehow. “i haven’t been inside either, not since we laid the hay down.” you cocked your head slightly, smiling up at him as you reached for his hand. “you wanna take a try with me?”

“i mean…” he furrowed his brows in thought, glancing over to where the cattle were munching on the fresh hay, where the dogs were barking at a snake slithering under the fencing of the chicken coop. 

“please? we can take a little break, right? we didn’t take one at lunch, so…” you trailed off, flashing puppy eyes at him, and you felt him deflate with a sigh and squeeze your hand. 

“i s’pose we can- woah!” alex let out a grunt as you suddenly yanked him forward, tugging him towards the entrance of the maze you had both worked so hard on. he caught up, of course, smiling down at your happiness as you both stepped onto the well-trodden hay path and started your journey.

in hindsight, you thought as you rounded another corner, and then another, and then another, perhaps you should have drawn a map.

“didn’t we pass that stalk five minutes ago, babe?” alex quipped from behind you as you turned left down a passage you thought you definitely hadn’t been down before, only to find yourself in a clearing completely surrounded by corn stalks on three sides. another dead end.

you groaned and put your head in your hands, turning to face your boyfriend and walking right into his chest on purpose. “we’re lost.”

“we’re not lost, we jus’ took a wrong turn somewhere…” alex mumbled, tipping his chin down to kiss the top of your head. “it’s fine. here, rest up, huh? lemme see if i can take a look over the stalks…”

he put his broad palms on your sides and guided you towards a hay bale that was set up for people that were in your situation, lost and trying to get their bearings from being turned around so many times.

the backs of your knees hit the bale, and you collapsed onto it with a soft oof, dropping your hands from your face to look up at alex as he walked towards the left wall of corn and tried to tug some of it down. “alex, no, c’mon, don’t break the stalks, there’s still a few more weeks of fall…” you whined at him, causing him to give you a look over his shoulder. “we’re lost, babygirl. i don’t give a shit if i tug down a few stalks. we got hundreds more.”

“but i grew these all myself!” you pouted at him, that old brattiness bubbling up as you simmered in your frustration. “don’t be rude, why don’t you put me on your shoulders or something?”

“i can handle it, doll,” he sighed, already sensing in the back of his mind that you were staring daggers at his back as he tugged some of the stalks forward again to see over them.

“alex, seriously, let me get on your shoulders. you’re being stupid, don’t ruin the maze.” you got to your feet, and managed to get two steps in before he turned around and had one of his large hands clasped around your neck. he didn’t squeeze, not just yet, but he grabbed you, effectively scruffing you and making your mouth shut tight.

“i said i got it, baby girl. where’d your attitude come from, huh?” he tilted his head, blocking your eyes from the sun and standing you in his shadow. you saw the glint of his eyes perfectly now, the burning of his red hair under the brim of his hat, the sweat from a day’s work and all the walking you both just did beading at his hairline. 

you swallowed thickly, feeling your throat bob under his hand. “i just don’t want your big hands to tear a new path in the maze. it’s cheating.”

“cheatin’?” he knitted his brows together as he applied a little pressure to the sides of your neck, “what’s cheatin’ is makin’ me wait until all these people get home for me to touch ya.”

your breath hitched as you felt his other hand snake along your side. for a brief moment, you recalled far earlier in the day, when the guests had started to arrive, when he tried to bend you over the porch railing and take you right there. you had pushed him off and promised him later, honey, we’ll get caught out here!

“alex, we can’t, not here, there’s-”

“i bet yer still not wearin’ anything under here, hm?” he glanced down at the hem of your dress, his fingers dancing over it before flipping the skirt up to reveal your bare pussy to him. you hissed from the breeze and squirmed to get away, but he just gripped your throat tighter. 

you knew he could see how you were already getting wet for him.

“we’re lost, ‘member?” he asked, pulling you in close to him, bringing his chest to yours as he studied your face. “i don’t think anyone’s come by this li’l corner since we got in here. think you’ll let me finish what i started this morning?”

you didn’t really get a say, nor were you going to stop him.

he let go of your throat to spin you around to face the hay bale you had been sitting on, pressing his chest against your back to walk you over to it. his broad hand pressed between your shoulder blades, and you were forced forward, hands landing on the gritty straw with a whimper of discomfort. “alex-”

“aht. manners, doll, since ya wanna catch an attitude with me.” his hand came down on your ass over the thin material of your dress, making you gasp and bite down on your lip to try and keep quiet.

“sir,” you breathed out, correcting yourself as you pressed your ass back against the growing bulge in his overalls, “we shouldn’t, we’re gonna get caught! someone’s gonna-” 

“quiet,” he retorted, leaning his weight over you and reaching a hand around to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks between his fingers and thumb. “you keep whinin’ about gettin’ caught, but you just keep on yappin’. why not try moaning instead, baby?”

you whined when you felt him grind his bulge against your pussy over your dress, uncomfortable with the amount of fabric between your pussy and his cock. 

“please,” you whimpered out, but it sounded more like pweath with how he was gripping your face. 

he hummed against your ear as he used a free hand to flip the skirt of your dress up over your hips, revealing your glistening folds to the open air once again. “i know yer a slut, but ya always surprise me.” he managed to lean back just enough to spit onto your drippy hole, making you moan softly and bite down hard on your lip.

then you felt his girthy middle finger protrude into your entrance, and your head started to spin, just as it always did when he started to work you open. 

alex chuckled as your head fell forward and your arms started to struggle with holding yourself up. his free arm came to wrap around your neck, lifting your head back up for you. “there ya go, baby. see? all better. ‘s a good thing we got lost, hm? finally got ya where i wanted ya this morning, all pretty ‘nd bent over ‘nd wet for me.”

his breath was hot against your cheek as his finger pumped in and out of you, curling against the spongy spot he had learned was your favorite (it had took him long enough to find it, the bastard). as you could do was whimper behind your swollen, bitten lip, trying not to cry out to avoid being caught by any of the patrons still wandering the maze. 

one wrong turn by anybody could get you both caught, and the thought sent a thrill down your spine and made you gush as he inserted a second wide finger into your pulsing hole. he curled and scissored his fingers against your gummy walls, laughing quietly at your fucked out expression.

“what, does my baby wanna get caught? always such a whore, wantin’ everyone to see this pretty pussy ‘n this tight ass. better be quiet when i fill you with my cock.”

you moaned before slapping a hand over your mouth, squirming as his fingers curled just right. he flexed his arm around your throat and made you wheeze, your hips bucking involuntarily. 

he was going to be the death of you. 

you whined behind your hand as he pulled his fingers out from you, your pussy clenching around nothing, neglected clit hard and aching. alex used his soaked fingers to fumble with the button and the fly of his overalls, struggling and grunting until he was able to free his fat, leaky cock from the confines of the denim. 

you felt the heat of his heavy cock against your thigh, your mind racing. you always cried out when he managed to push all the way in, the tip of his cock always threatening to bruise your cervix, but you couldn’t this time, not here, in the middle of the corn maze the two of you were hosting.

alex should consider himself lucky you haven’t kicked him away from you (as if you could – you were strong from years of farm work, sure, but alex was wide and far, far stronger than you were. you didn’t stand a chance). 

“gonna be good n’ let me fuck you how i want? gonna stay quiet?” he mumbled into your shoulder, and you managed a nod from over where his arm was wrapped around your neck.

“good,” he purred, his voice dropping even lower as he tapped the drippy head of his thick cock against your entrance, “then keep your pretty mouth shut just this once. don’t get us in trouble.”

his teeth sunk lightly into your shoulder as he bullied his way into your pussy, the head of his cock popping in with a wet sound. your legs were shaking and your breath was caught in your throat, unable to stop the cry that bubbled up behind your hand. 

he pushed deeper, deeper, deeper into you, groaning against your skin. it wasn’t the first time, far from it, but you always felt like it was because of the sheer size of him.

you felt his tip bump against your cervix and his heavy balls smack against your clit, making you twitch harshly. your legs, feeling like gelatin, almost gave out from under you, but lucky enough for you, alex had his arm wound around your neck.

he barely gave you time to adjust before he was pulling his hips back and thrusting hard into you again, starting a brutal pace. he was holding you up, one arm around your neck, his other hand splayed on your stomach to hold you back against him as he railed into you with force.

you slapped both hands over your mouth as you gurgled and moaned behind them, feeling your eyes roll back as his tip kissed your cervix over and over again. it felt like the air was being punched from your lungs.

“ha-ah, that’s it baby girl, just like that, doin’ so well f’ me,” he groaned against your ear, much more quiet and composed than you were.

his balls smacked against your clit over and over, the wet pap, pap, pap of his hips colliding with your ass barely audible over the sound of the wind and the people in the maze chatting with one another.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him grip onto you a little harder; you were close, already on the edge after being spread open by his fingers.

“close already, doll? feel that good? or is it ‘cause we’re outside, fuckin’ like animals? ‘s that it? you like being bred like this? hah?” alex laughed breathily at your trembling form, holding you up as you clenched tightly around him. your head was fuzzy and swimming, lightheaded from being pounded and from feeling like you weren’t getting enough air.

“fuck, yer grippin’ me so tight- you gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over this cock right here, out in the open? c’mon, wanna feel you cum all over me, cum for me, cum cum cum-” he accentuated his words with deep thrusts of his cock inside your leaking pussy, and just as he demanded, you creamed and gushed all over the front of his overalls with a shout muffled behind shaking hands. your whole body shook from the force of how hard it washed over you, your knees buckling once again.

alex groaned into your skin and tucked his nose into the crook of your neck. he didn’t stop – he never did until he could cum inside your little cunt. you whined out loudly behind your hands, the feeling of him fucking into you just as hard and his balls smacking against your achy clit slowly becoming too much to bear.

your squirming seemed to egg him on, however, as the hand splayed on your stomach wrapped around your form to pin you to his chest, keeping you steady on your feet. “gonna cum inside this fuckin’ cunt, yeah, gonna fill that little hole up with my cum, oh g-god-”

it didn’t take him too much longer to moan out into the open air and fill you to the brim with cum, almost immediately forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock as he fucked it deep into you. you whimpered with him, eyes fluttering and tears cooling against your cheeks. 

alex chuckled softly as he slowly, slowly pulled out of you, softening cock popping out and leaving you clenching around nothing. you shuddered as you felt his cum start to drip from your hole, but his fingers were there to save the day, pushing it back in. “don’ waste it…”

you panted and finally removed your hands from your mouth, turning your head to catch his lips in a kiss. “you’re insatiable.”

“not my fault you got us put in a secluded spot without li’l panties on.” he shrugged, ever relaxed, even now as he held you up from falling.

“how are we supposed to get out now? i can’t walk…” you whined at him, and he chuckled as he tucked his cock away with one hand, using the other to support your weight.

“i know where the exit is. i’ll just carry ya.”

“you knew?!”

[luckykittysshowerthoughts]

An Unfortunate Predicament [Michael x Reader]

[ GN reader, slowburn, fluff, mildly tsundere, SFW, hurt+comfort, 2.6k ]

"y/n."

"y/n. Can you hear me?"

You can just barely make out his voice past the ringing in your ears. You open your eyes, and... nothing. There's nothing around you, just blank space. It's like you're suspended in a pitch-black void.

You quickly sit up- making note of the clearly solid surface beneath you- and look down. More pitch blackness.

It isn't like it's dark. In fact, it's quite bright- you can see yourself just fine. There's just nothing else there. Nothing but a surprisingly bright light shining down from above. You look up, only to immediately glance away. It's like staring directly into the sun...

"What happened...?" You ask.

"Ugh, really, what did you get yourself into this time..." The voice speaks again. You quickly discern it's coming from directly above you, from the light. "I'd think you'd have learned by now not to eat anything Solomon cooks, but it seems you're just as stubborn as he is."

The memory comes flooding back, of Solomon bringing yet another one of his culinary abominations over to you. It's blurry, but you're pretty sure he even spoon-fed you...

Maybe it's time to start working on my boundaries.

"Ah. So that's how I got here," you say. "But still, what happened? What did it do? Where am I?"

"Whatever Solomon put in that 'chicken soup' of his has transported you into some kind of pocket dimension."

"Great..." You groan, patting the ground beside you. Yep, it’s solid alright.

"Honestly, it's always something new with that sorcerer. He's generally a reasonable person with a good head on his shoulders, but then he'll go and cook something up that poisons even demons, or transports someone through time, or... oh, I probably shouldn't have said that."

"Should I just forget you said that?"

"Please do. Though, I'm not sure you'll even remember any of this once you're out of here anyway."

You let out a sigh. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Don't worry. I'm here to get you out," the voice responds. "Now, this should only take a second..."

You're about to point out how he completely dodged the question, but figure now isn't the time. You're relying on whoever this is to return you to the real world, after all.

The sound of someone snapping their fingers reverberates through whatever kind of space you're in, before you flinch at the piercing sound of glass shattering.

"I- what the...” The voice exclaims in disbelief.

Up to this point, the voice had this undertone of superiority- the kind that screams 'I know things you don't', that considers itself above you and any situation that could present itself. It reminded you of Lucifer, in a way, just more on the patronizing end. However, all of that is gone now- this just seems genuinely taken aback, even startled.

That same shattered-glass sound rings through the space again, then a frustrated growl before trying again.

A pit forms in your stomach. This isn't good...

"That damn sorcerer," the voice mutters, mostly to himself. "Oh. Excuse my language."

"You can't get out, can you?"

He sighs. "It seems I can't."

"Great."

"Fortunately, unlike you, I should still be able to contact the outside world from here," the voice assured. "With outside support, we should be able to be extracted from here with little issue. I just need to give Raphael the instructions."

Raphael, huh?

"Who are you, anyway? You never answered my question earlier."

"You sure ask a lot of questions, don't you?" the voice responds, tone dripping with annoyance.

"Well, for as long as we're stuck here together, we might as well get to know each other."

Your remark is followed by a long moment of deafening silence.

"...hello?"

Another thirty seconds of silence pass by, and a nervous feeling starts building up in your stomach. Is he still here? Had you crossed him in some way, and if you had, is he still going to help you out of here, or just himself?

"He-"

"Ugh. Three hours... it's going to be around three hours."

You groan, taking another look at your surroundings. There's absolutely nothing to keep yourself entertained for the next three hours. There's nothing to even look at. And you're stuck here with some strange being that won't even tell you his name. Though, you're fairly certain you know who it is anyway.

"I can't believe Solomon pulled this off, and without even trying. His capacity to mess things up is almost impressive, isn't it? Though, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised anymore. Inventing an immortality potion, fighting a one-man war against the entire Devildom, shrinking Lucifer and suppressing his power, and now somehow trapping me... sometimes I worry what would happen if he decided to use his power to nefarious ends. And the whole cooking thing... why did he even have to get into cooking, of all things? I never thought I'd have to say the sentence, 'you were sent to a pocket dimension by chicken soup', but here we are. It's times like this that I understand why the Sorcerer's Society sent a dragon after him; this is ridiculous. He really causes me no end of..."

The voice trails off.

"Sorry. I'm rambling."

"No, no, ramble away," you respond quickly. "It's not like there's anything else for us to do here, anyway. Maybe your voice will keep me from going insane."

He scoffs softly. "I'm not here to entertain you."

"Would you honestly rather just sit here in silence? You're stuck here with me just as much as I'm stuck here with you."

That familiar radio silence fills the air again. God, this guy is petty.

Maybe I should see how big this place really is. There's not much to see, but maybe walking around will at least keep me from dying of boredom.

You get up from the floor (or, what you think counts as a floor?), pick a random direction and start walking.

"You know, not many humans would just walk into complete darkness with no directions. But then again, you've never been one to take the safe path, have you?"

You pause and frown. "You say that as though you know me."

"I've been watching," he admits. "The way you've forged such bonds with those brothers, influenced them so tremendously... I'd say you're flying too close to the sun, but everything seems to be going well. I'm happy you're making them happy."

"Well, thanks..?" You respond awkwardly. "I'm glad I'm making them happy, too."

"May I ask why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, they are demons."

"And? They're still dear to me."

"Dear to you, huh?" The voice asks pensively.

"Why are you so invested, anyway?"

There's a second of hesitation before the voice speaks again. Not a long spell of intentional silence like earlier, but a simple pause. As though he's contemplating what to say, or whether to speak at all.

"Because long ago, they were my brothers." The voice answers. "It's been a long time since then. But I do still have a smidgen of care for them. And seeing you get so close with them, it... it fascinates me."

There's an undeniable tone of loneliness to his tone, one that he's clearly trying to restrain but is leaking through nonetheless.

"Fascinates you?" You ask. You pause. "...well, you fascinate me, too, Michael. That's who you are, isn't it?"

"Excuse me?" He blurts in shock.

"You aren't exactly hiding it well."

Several seconds of silence ensue, and then a weak chuckle.

"You really are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"My life is full of surprises. I try to match the energy."

"I think I see why Lucifer likes you so much," he remarks. "And, yes, I am Michael. In case you needed the confirmation."

"Confirmation is always appreciated," you respond. "It's nice to finally meet you, Michael."

"I'm sorry? Nice to meet me?"

You quirk an eyebrow. "Why are you so surprised?"

"I apologize. It's just... I would have imagined Lucifer and those brothers of his would only have negative things to say of me. I had figured you wouldn't have the best impression of me, much less want to meet me."

"Meh, it's been a mixed bag," you shrug.

"Come on. You can't just say that; now I'm curious."

You chuckle. "Well, Mammon told me how you taught him about the constellations."

"He still remembers that...?"

"Apparently," you shrug again. "He tried to teach me too, but according to Luke he misremembered a lot. Still haven't had anyone teach me properly."

"Well, hold on."

"Huh?"

Another snap echoes through the void, and suddenly you're in an endless sea of stars.

"Woah..." you let out a gleeful giggle, eyes sparkling with wonder. "This is amazing!"

"I'm glad you like it."

You're startled to hear the voice coming from behind you rather than above you. Now that you think about it, the bright light beaming down from above is gone too...

You slowly turn around, and there he is, in the flesh. Your heart skips a beat as you see him, and you remember what you were told not too long ago.

He's everything humans expect an angel to be and more.

He’s just… magnificent. He’s beautiful in the most ethereal way, with a certain grandeur to him on par with Lucifer. You can't help but stare, taking in his features, basking in them like warm sunlight.

The playful smile fades from his face for a moment. "Come on, don't look at me like that. There's really not much to look at.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you utter under your breath.

“Whatever. Let's go look at the stars instead."

He gets that starry-eyed look of childlike excitement again as he brushes past you and points at a cluster of stars.

"That over there is Orion, humans also call it 'The Hunter'. What a lot of people don't know is that each of the stars have their own names, too. Look at those three stars across the middle, the belt. Left to right are Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka. Now look up from there at the shoulders, now look just east of that... there's Canis Minor. Canis Minor is... oh, I never actually told you the names of the other stars in Orion, did I? I apologize. Anyway..."

You listen to him ramble on, pointing excitedly at various stars, constellations, and asterisms. Oh, and he explains to you what an asterism was. It's so easy to get lost in his words, even if it straddles the line between coherent thought and word vomit at times.

"What was that earlier about you not being here to entertain me?" You tease with a smirk.

He gives you a deadpan look. "This isn't for you. It's for me."

"Right," you chuckle and roll your eyes. "My apologies."

"Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Sorry~"

“You’re not sorry at all,” he sighs softly and shakes his head.

You give him a shrug.

“I don't get it," he utters, shaking his head once more with a soft smile upon his face. "You're just a human, but you talk to me like a friend. It's like you don't care who I am, what I am. It's absurd."

"Well, I've spent quite a while sassing Lucifer and his brothers. You aren't special."

"There you go again..." he sighs. "This is how you treat them, too?"

"Pretty much."

"You really don't care who anyone is, do you?"

"Nope."

"I don't understand how Lucifer hasn't killed you yet."

"Trust me, he's tried."

The two of you share a chuckle.

"You know, one time..." You delve into a story about you and Lucifer, one of the many times you drove him crazy.

Throughout the story, Michael leans in further and further towards you, completely captivated. He looks so utterly enthralled that you just can't bring yourself to bring it to a close. One chaotic story segues into another, and another. You feel like one of one of those camp counselors sitting around a campfire, telling stories to a circle of starry-eyed children.

"With the way you talk about him, I'd almost think he hasn't changed," Michael remarks with a distant look in his eyes, a sad smile tilting the corners of his lips.

"Really, he hasn't," you tell him. "From what I've heard, anyway. He's still Lucifer."

He lets out a sad sigh, eyes cast downward. "All this time, I've thought the Lucifer I knew died when I... when he became a demon."

He meets your gaze with a melancholic look.

"Well, he's changed a little," you agree, "but he's still the same Lucifer inside. I've seen enough to know that. I'm sure if you give him a chance..."

Michael sighs. "How am I supposed to face him as a demon? How am I supposed to look at him, not recoil at what he's become, what I turned him into?"

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Michael."

His eyes widen in surprise, as he’s momentarily snapped out of his episode of self-pity.

"Touching me too, are you? You really do know no bounds."

You swear you can see the faintest blush upon his face. Or maybe it’s just a trick of the light. Either way, that could be explored later.

"It's how I've gotten this far," you tell him with a smile. "I've gotten where I am because I, consistently, decided to take the plunge. And I think it's time for you to take the plunge, too."

For a long moment, he just looks down at the ground, his expression unreadable.

After what feels like forever, he meets your gaze again. "Let's get back to the constellations," he suggests with a weary smile.

"Okay."

And so, Michael returns to his rambles about the constellations, wildly pointing and gesturing into his projection of the night sky. A surprised blush heats up your face as you feel a feathered wing drape around you like a soft blanket. You look to Michael in disbelief, as he continues gesturing to the stars.

You shuffle closer to him, and without looking away from the distant stars, he pulls his wing over you tighter, almost squeezing like a feathery hug. His feathers brush against you, softer than anything you’ve ever felt.

You gently grasp some of his gleaming white feathers between your fingers and stroke them. His eyes widen in surprise.

“Hey, I didn’t say you could touch,” he weakly chides.

“You’re the one who touched first!”

“Ugh…” he rolls his eyes. “Anyway, that over there is Lacerta…”

You settle back down underneath his wing, taking everything in. He’s warm, unbelievably warm. It’s as though you’re snuggled up in a heated blanket as the two of you gaze up at the stars. You feel like you could stay there forever.

I can't believe this is happening.

However, all good things must come to an end. Eventually, you start to notice the starry sky... breaking apart. Into little tiny pieces, floating away into the abyss.

"Wh-"

"That must mean Raphael succeeded," Michael says, stepping away and retracting his wing. "When this little pocket of reality is fully dissolved, we'll be sent right back to where we were before this whole ordeal."

A pang of disappointment hits you as you realize your little moment is coming to a close.

"Oh, don't give me that face." Michael says. "We'll see each other again; I promise it. So try to remember me this time, okay?"

You give him a weird look. Try to remember him this time...? What on Earth does he mean by that...?

Before you can ask, he takes your hands in his and squeezes them gently. Just as he does, a blinding light pours in and... now, you're in your bed.

You blink and sit up.

"Oh, thank goodness! What was that about; ya really had us scared there! Don't ya ever do that again!" Mammon's practically yelling into your ear.

"Mammon, there's no need to be right in their face. Not after they just woke up." Lucifer shakes his head. "Are you alright, [y/n]?"

"I'm feeling quite alright," you smile.

"Oh?" Lucifer gives you a weird look.

"You can go ahead and tell everyone I'm fine," you say, standing up and walking towards the door. "I'm headed to the library."

Meanwhile, in the Celestial Realm, Raphael breathes a sigh of relief as Michael reappears.

"Ugh, honestly, Michael," he shakes his head. "How did you even find yourself in such a predicament, anyway? I mean, you?"

"As I said. I had to help [y/n]."

"Were you even actually stuck in there, or were you just using it as an excuse to mess around when you have work to do?"

"...I'll leave that up to your interpretation."

"Michael...! Hey, don't just run off...!"

[blckbarbiedoll]

Million Dollar Baby

Epilogue

February 22, 2020-Los Angeles, California

You placed the dirty plates and silverware into the dishwasher before joining Patrick on the couch and waited for your other halves to join you.

"Do you think she liked us?" You asked.

"She's a seven year old. I'm sure she was just focused on her dinosaur chicken nuggets."

"She's our partner's daughter. It'd be nice if she likes us."

Tashi and Art joined you in the living room soon after. They handed you both glasses and poured some wine.

"She loved you guys." Tashi smiled. "She said Patrick was funny, and you were very pretty."

"What'd she say about the whole relationship thing?" Patrick asked.

"She was a little confused, but then she said it's okay because now she gets another mommy and daddy, and more Christmas presents."

"Thank god." You sighed.

"You know, we were thinking." Art said. "Now that you guys are married and Lily knows about us..." He looked to his wife.

"We were thinking, why don't the four of us...ya know?"

"No, we don't know."

"We're proposing, guys."

You and Patrick looked at each other and smiled before you jumped up and embraced them both. 

"I love you so much!" You exclaimed before kissing them both.

"Is that a yes?" The blonde asked.

"Yes!"

You all turned to look at Patrick who had remained silent.

"Pat?"

He smirked and nodded. "Yes. I wanna marry you both so fucking bad." He came over and pressed a soft kiss to Art's lips before doing the same to Tashi. 

"Even though it can't be legal, we thought we could still make it official." She pulled a small box out of her pocket and opened it. "I know it's not much. We didn't wanna be too flashy."

You both looked at the two silver wedding bands and grinned.

"There's an inscription on the inside." Art told you.

You picked one up and turned it over. 

'Love-Love'

"They're perfect."

You both took your own wedding bands off and slipped the new ones on.

"What about you guys?" You asked.

"We got some for ourselves. We were waiting until you said yes."

"Well put them on!" Patrick said excitedly.

They giggled and pulled their rings out of their pockets and copied your earlier actions.

"We should live together." You stated. "I mean, it'd be kinda weird if we're married and live apart. But I totally get it if you don't wanna do that right now."

Tashi grabbed your hand and grinned. "I already got the Alaskan King up the stairs. You're moving in."

"Good." Patrick said. "I cannot have Art's cold feet against my legs anymore."

"Oh, you love my feet."

"Not when I'm sleeping."

"Did you tell your parents?" You asked her.

"I'm saving that for another day. Right now, I just wanna be with my family."

You all began to cuddle together on the couch. You raked your fingers through Tashi's hair while Art was sitting in between Patrick's legs.

"Do you guys remember when we first met?" You asked the group.

"Like it was yesterday." Art smiled. "We thought you two were goddesses."

"We still do."

"I used to think about what would've happened if we hadn't gone to your hotel room. But now, I don't give a shit. This is way better."

"I love you guys." Tashi smiled as she reached over kiss the boys before kissing you.

"We love you too."

Later that night, you all made your way up the stairs and got into bed. 

"I love this new bed." Patrick said.

"Maybe now I won't have your morning breath in my face." Art joked.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

He climbed over Tashi and laid in between you and Art.

"Now you will."

"You're insane."

"You love it." He planted a soft kiss onto his lips and smirked.

"I love this family." You grinned before cuddling into Patrick's side and drifting off to sleep.

[fandomwrites]

reader decides to get her nails done and while doing so she decides to surprise jason with putting his initial on her wedding finger? :-)

if you don’t want to it’s completely okay!! thank youuu <3

This was such a cute idea. If you have any more ideas I would love to hear them.

Jason Schmidt x Reader

Summary- To surprise Jason you decide to get his initial on your ring finger. Just like you wanted he loves it so much.

Word Count: 578

PERFECT TIME TO DO THIS

It was finally time to get my nails done again. I usually get quite a natural color since I’m in a show but today I decided to do a little something to surprise Jason. 

We’ve been together for a long time now. About 5 years ago, we met right before the pandemic and we stayed in contact. I ended up moving with him to New York when he booked Broadway. 

Even though we are pretty young we’ve talked about the future of our relationship quite a lot. Marriage, kids, things like that. Given that we’ve had conversations about marriage I decided to do something special for him.

I decided to get his initial on my ring finger nail. It’s a little cheesy I know, but I think it’s kind of cute. Like a little placeholder until we are actually engaged.

When I get back from the salon I see him in the kitchen making dinner.

“Hi, how was the salon?” He asks and comes over to kiss me.

“Good, it wasn’t too crowded so they let me sit in one of the pedicure chairs and just dip my feet in hot water.”

“That sounds nice. I’m making some chicken and parmesan noodles. Is that alright with you?”

“That sounds perfect.”

I decide to not show him and instead see if he notices while we are eating dinner. 

As we are sitting at the table I see him look at my nails. His eyes squint at my left hand.

“What’s that on your right finger? It’s not on the other ones, did they mess up?”

“No actually, it's something for you.”

“Really? What is it?”

I give him my hand so he can see. Once he sees it, his eyes lit up.

“Is that a J?”

“Yes it is.”

“What’s it for?”

“Well, we’ve been talking about marriage a lot lately. I figured I could do this as a little placeholder until we actually get engaged.”

“That is the most romantic thing you could’ve done. I love you so much.”

“I love you too Jason.” I lean over and kiss him.

“I guess it’s a good time to do this then.”

I look at him confused. Not knowing what he’s talking about. He then pulls something out of his pocket and gets on his knee. 

“I was already planning on doing this tonight but after you showed me your nails I knew I had to do it now. Y/n, meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know that it’s cheesy to say, but it’s true. I’ve never been happier, I’ve never felt more supported. You’re my best friend and I can’t be more thankful for you. You’re my muse and your love gives me every single idea I have for my music. I can’t wait for our future together, so why not start it now. Y/n, will you make me the absolute luckiest man in the whole world, and marry me?”

At this point I’m full on sobbing. I’m on my knees as well so I'm at his height.

“Yes, yes, I will.” I say as I’m still crying.

He then stands both of us up and puts the ring on my finger. I look at it then reach up and kiss him as hard as I can.

“I promise I’m gonna give you the best life ever.” He whispers in my ear.

The best outcome of getting my nails done ever. 

[fountainpenguin]

"Pretend to be sweet! Speak with a smile... Even if you're mad, play it cool for a while..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 15 - “Scald (Ren, Jimmy, Scar)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

While Impulse prowls in search of Bdubs, life goes on. Ren, Joel, Jimmy, Tango, and Cleo get along in their respective spheres. And Scar? ... Well, since Etho never showed up for Session 2, Scar's teamed with a bunch of other explorers to tackle a cave adventure. With a group that large, it's only a matter of time before hunters turn on quarries...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

Renthedog - Chicken

Quarry: ZombieCleo

Hunter: Smajor1995

Allegiance: Unaffiliated

💚  💛  ❤️

"Hey." Is that a weird thing to say to a guy you haven't seen since his particles dissolved? He looks better now, standing with his hands in his hoodie pockets. In traditional Joel fashion, he got a new outfit for Session 2. The hoodie's sky blue. Puffy pastel letters spell out Glitch Survivor down the front, surrounded by four hearts, several azaleas, and little sparkles.

Skizzleman stole the traits of Tropical Fish

Actually, the whole thing looks glittery. It's childish and goofy and he looks snug and content, like Ren didn't catch him staring at his reflection for a little too long while they changed in the shower house. Ren has questions (which will go unanswered) regarding what went on between Joel's boss and the skin designers in the community mere days ago.

Not that I'm one to talk. I'm going all-in on the farmer's aesthetic this time around. It just sort of happened to him. Honestly? Can't complain, dude. The flannel shirt is comfy, the jeans aren't so bad, and the whole vibe fits his familiar suspenders pretty well. He's half worried he'll overheat, so he keeps rolling the sleeves back to his elbows.

If he were to put it into words, he's playing into that vibe of all the world in chaos while he serves smiles and escapism in his pretty little garden. In fact, Ren gets up from the muck, taking out a handkerchief to wipe dirt form his hands, and walks over to join Joel by the fence. He leans against it. Joel tilts his head. He's got little panda ears.

"'Hey' yourself, Ren. Ooh, look at you working hard in the chaos game."

"Thanks, man. You're looking good on green again; nice, nice- A+ material."

Skizzleman stole the traits of Salmon

"Yeah, Grian kicked me back up since, y'know… the whole 'creeper glitch' wasn't meant to happen and I did get my proper quarry kill." Joel points two thumbs at the bubbly text across his chest. "He'd better watch his ruddy little backend, though, because I intend to hit purple before I see yellow again. This order is tall, but so am I." His eyes roam behind Ren, wandering the other side of the fence. His fingers tap together inside his hoodie pocket. "Got quite a bit of wheat there, haven't you?"

"Wheat?" He keeps his tone light and friendly, but repeats the word 'wheat' to make it undeniable what he's referring to. "Take a bit if you like; leave something if you want. It's my community garden. This, my friend, is a safe space." He glances left and right, then leans forward, dipping his voice. He even lifts one hand to catch his words, though no one seems to be around eavesdropping. "Seems to me like you're less likely to get sniped off if your would-be murderer knows you'll respawn a few blocks away to have your revenge! And lay waste to them completely where they stand!"

Joel lifts both brows, curious but flat-mouthed. "Eeeh… Not the most exciting content for you, is it? I mean… You could achieve the same thing by lurking near your base. Or plopping your bed down anytime you anticipate a fight, if you wanna be some sort of freak… Also, I'm pretty sure you can't strike your hunter back if you drop from green life to yellow? You're still yellow, right? That's a passive color."

bigbst4tz2 stole the traits of Creeper Skizzleman stole the traits of Turtle

"… Look, it's cool, okay? Spawn's cool." Ren gestures sideways, flapping the handkerchief. "I'm in my peaceful arc right now. Spawn shall be the most beautiful place to rest one's head!"

Joel looks around, skeptic impatience dancing on his lips. Spawn isn't technically a peninsula, but it stands on a raised, flat bit of land overlooking the rushing river. The wind's gusty up here, bamboo and jungle trees swishing. Ren's got his hidden chickens and pigs.

Thus far, his play session consists mostly of bartering with Scott and Skizz for the right to breed their sheep. They helped him lead the sheep back in return for the right to take two chickens, and the haughty stare in Scott's gaze warned Ren that he wouldn't hesitate to kill every animal in his underground hidey-hole, regardless of what killing so many and swapping traits that many times in a row would do to his stomach. He needs to move them. The Sushi Boys know where they are right now and that's not a good strat.

GoodTimesWithScar stole the traits of Enderman

"Peaceful, yeah," Joel says. He leans against the fencepost, cupping his cheek in one hand. Well, one panda paw. "Say… Any chance I could pull you away from your work for a couple hours, mate? Promise it'll be worth your while."

"Oh?"

"You got shovels?" Joel summons his own to his hand with a flick of the wrist. It's stone, unimpressive, but he taps it against the edge of the fence like it's made of netherite. "I'm thinking we go about digging up sand. It won't be a monopoly, but Grian always makes a grab at it, and I think yoinking it before he tries will be the best strat."

"… Seems like he'll come after you once he realizes you've got it."

"Hope he does. I want him-" Joel makes a shhhhluck! sound, gliding the shovel scoop across his own throat. "You get me? Come on; we'll make a game of it."

Ren frowns, one ear twitching like he's got a flea. He tries not to glance at the place he hid his animals, though that means jerking his eyes back to Joel as they start to drift sideways. "Well… It sounds like you might be luring me away for a bit of thievery-"

"Oh, like you've got better plans today. You and your smelly little farm, your smelly little livestock…"

So he's already aware of them. He's not trying to fake me out. Ren lifts his hands. "All right; you've convinced me. Let's have ourselves a dig, my friend." For the sake of content creation. For the sake of getting out of his own head, too… Apart from his visit to Scott and Skizz, he's pretty much been gardening all day long. He's got an inventory full of bread and a back-up chest to boot.

And I know I'm not his quarry…

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[tao-lay]

Spinning Around You

@exols-silver-christmas

Hello @way-of-the-sun! This is my little gift for you, and I hope you like it. I had several approaches when I received the prompt, but I really hope this gives the prompt you left some justice. Happy Holidays!

Title: Spinning Around You Genre: Fluff, BodySwap, Soulmate Characters: Kim Minseok, Do Kyungsoo Words: 1,394

Minseok learned the hard way that a large salad plate, and a champagne flute cost 50 bucks; especially if they’re the good kind. His tips for the night were wiped out because of a rookie mistake he could have avoided if he had just stopped to let a family pass instead of trying to squeeze past them. He sighed as he handed the last dollar to his manager, pocketing only a measly 6 dollars into his pocket at the end of the night.

"See you tomorrow," he called out, adjusting his backpack behind him before waving at his coworker who was assigned to be the closer for tonight.

Once he reached his apartment three blocks away, he plopped down on bed only to stare up at the ceiling. 'I guess i can skip dinner?' he thought to himself. Minseok could feel his eyelids flutter shut but his stomach growled just before he could be lured to sleep.

He glanced at his wall clock then sighed, pushing himself off the bed then slipping on his shoes. Minseok decided to make his way to a nearby fast-food restaurant that offers value meals. Once he was there, he opted for a meal that had chicken, rice, and a drink. The restaurant was quick with his order and he decided to have the food taken out so he could eat his meal in the privacy of his own home.

"Watch where you’re going," said a gruff voice as a hand lightly pushed at Minseok’s shoulder.

"Sorry," he replied. The man was a good foot taller than he was and he wasn’t trying to pick any fights tonight. He caught a glimpse of a familiar face under a black cap behind the said gruff man, though. The man had a fair complexion, complementing the dark clothing he wore, and the plumpest lips he had ever seen up close. He looked familiar but he just couldn’t put his finger on who that might be.

Minseok did as the bigger man said, and minded his own business. He headed back home to eat his meal in peace. It wasn’t the most mind-blowing meal he’s had, but it was still food for his stomach so wasn’t too disappointed at it. Minseok threw away the disposables then resumed his lying position on his bed. He whipped out his phone and looked up the latest performance of this one singer he had been having a crush on for the past couple of months.

With his body being tired, his stomach full, and his heart slowly filled with lyrics and song, he eventually drifted off to sleep.

-

Minseok woke up to an alarm. It wasn’t his alarm but he shut it off out of instinct. He patted around the bed to feel for his phone. And... Well, he felt a phone, it wasn’t his. But he managed to unlock it with his fingerprint? Everything is a blur, but he was sure he was awake.

Why is it 4am? Why was he waking up to an alarm that was two hours earlier than he was used to? Why was his bed so big and soft?

He sat up on his bed then stepped on the floor, seeing something that freaked him out more than being able to unlock a stranger's phone using his fingerprint. He saw feet that weren’t his. It was connected to his body, sure. But they weren’t his! He stumbled out of bed then headed over to where he thought the bathroom was. It was the walk-in closet. Minseok padded out then walked to the other door he could find in the room. Thankfully, it was the bathroom and right there, in the mirror, staring at him, was a face that wasn’t his. Instead, it belonged to a famous singer whom he was a fan of.

He was in the body of the very soulful singer, and gifted dancer do Kyungsoo. The singer that he had been crushing on for three years and counting. The singer whose concerts he went to even if he was just seated in the general admission section. The celebrity who he has met in person after winning a raffle draw from buying his album. The singer who gave him the warmest smile and told him that he recognized him, even though it was their first time meeting in person.

Minseok gasped loudly upon the realization then covered his mouth, making the idol in the reflection also cover his mouth in shock. He looked down at his hands, turned them around over and over before he ended up lightly slapping his face.

It was real, he wasn’t dreaming. He was definitely in this celebrity’s body and it most likely meant that the same celebrity was now in his bed, waking up in a dingy apartment. Minseok wants to run to where his apartment is and apologize to the celebrity.

Minseok made himself decent; wearing a simple pair of jogging pants, a plain shirt, and a cap to cover his current identity as this artist. This artist had won several awards on music shows already, able to hold decent and high notes despite dancing flashy choreography. It was only one of the reasons why Minseok has a crush on him, but that wasn’t the time to gush. If he could get to where his apartment was, and maybe talk to the person whom he switched bodies with, they could successfully return to their own bodies.

-

After successfully dodging two big security guards, several "loving" fans who were "staying" in the room beside where Kyungsoo was staying at in the hotel, and managing to get a hold of a cab, he finally arrived at his apartment. His fancy yet casual clothing stuck out like a sore thumb in his own neighborhood. He stepped inside the apartment then adjusted his cap to cover his face in case anyone would recognize him. When he reached his apartment, he knocked on the door twice.

The door opened not soon later, his own eyes staring right at him. Unlike him though, he was met with excitement and with glee instead of sheer confusion. The door flung open and he was met with a body hugging his own.

Now he was more confused?

When Kyungsoo in Minseok's body pulled away, he was looking at the other with wide and sparkling eyes. He was looking at the other so lovingly, one would think that it was Kyungsoo (in Minseok's body) that was the fan.

"I have been waiting for this day," Kyungsoo said, gently leading Minseok back into the small apartment. "And I had been hoping it was you."

Minseok was so confused. Yes, it was his idol telling him all these lovely things that are making his toes curl and his stomach flip, but why?

"If you remember during the third grade, when you helped a kid buy milk from the canteen because that kid didn't have enough money.." Kyungsoo was blushing, and it was strange for Minseok to see himself blushing, but he welcomed it. He vaguely remembers the story, though.

"That kid was me," Kyungsoo hummed, almost melting with the way his voice crooned. "And I had the biggest crush on you that time,” he nodded, lightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “But our family moved away even before I could tell you how cool you were, and how you made me feel seen. My crush was rekindled when you won my fansign event. It was just so unfortunate you didn’t recognize who I was."

Now it was Minseok's turn to blush.

"So now," Kyungsoo smiled widely, "Shall we.. Return to our own bodies?"

"But how," Minseok croaked, voice hoarse from not using it the entire morning.

"Like this," Kyungsoo's smile grew wider as he leaned closer to Minseok then pressed a soft kiss to his lips afterwards.

When Minseok opened his eyes afterwards, he was looking at Kyungsoo. It had indeed worked; they were back to their own bodies. Before Kyungsoo could utter another word, it was Minseok who closed the gap between their lips again.

As they pulled away again, Kyungsoo smiled at Minseok, lightly adjusting his cap. “By any chance, do you have three dollars?”

Minseok tilted his head in confusion again.

“I kinda.. Have a craving, and I want to buy milk from the convenience store.”

[pbandjesse]

I am absolutely shattered today. More exhausted then I have been in a while. I am super glad my workshop tomorrow is not happening anymore because I don't think I could handle it. I am just. So tired.

I didn't sleep amazing again. My ears hurt again. I have had go take out all of my piercing. Which seems to have helped a little bit. But I also absolutely slept through my alarm because I was asleep on top of my phone. Thankfully James woke me up at 715.

I was in a horrible mood though. And I was very snippy. I was in my head telling myself to knock it off but I was having a bad time. I was to hot. I would be okay but it did not start well.

James left for work before me. And I took a few extra minutes to sit and watch my new fish because I read that it can help your blood pressure and I do think it helped a little bit. I was out the door by 755.

I got over to creative alliance and loaded up my wagon. As I walked from the corner where I parked t Creative Alliance Parker pulled up and I was like. Oh hi! And I really tried to put on all my energy. But I was for sure more low energy then normal. I tried but I was struggling.

The classroom was 72 degrees. Which was wild. Parker would realize and fix it pretty quick but it did not help how warm I already was. But it would be okay.

I started setting up my program and slowly the kids started coming in. Including some I knew! One from the nursery I subbed at before and one form puhtok. And everyone was really great.

James had given me a bunch of flattened cardboard boxes from soap being sold at the gift shop. So as the kids came in, some went to draw, and some came to help me assemble the boxes. And it was fun. A nice little way to get to know each other and jump right into making stuff.

They were all really excited about the Rubbermaid tubs of stuff I brought. And I gave them plastic bins to start putting things to the side in case they might want to use them for their dioramas. But we would be breaking into two groups later on so it was no rush.

The kids were really funny. And by the end of the day they had developed their own religion, with one of the older boys, Andrew, becoming the cult leader. It was all around an egg that did not shatter with the others. And then at lunch they went to the park and saw a dead bird and I think there is a chicken and the egg conversation to be had but they just kept chanting. And making art about the egg. Children are so wonderfully weird.

Parker took the kids on a tour of the two buildings first. Which gave me a few minutes to eat my breakfast. But soon they were back and we jumped right in.

We started with taking about what a dioramas was. I wrote things in the board and we discussed what it is, what it's made of, why someone might make one. And they had really great answers. Next we filled out the worksheet I made up with information for thinking about how your diorama will function. Who's in it? What's the environment? What are the materials? We then sketched it and then we made paper models of the ideas. Not everyone did all of these steps, and they really didn't have to. But it was good to work through the ideas.

We had approximately 2 and a half hours for each group. And I found that about half of each group spent the entire time making, while the other half finished in about an hour. So I had to push for adding things. And I would find some books and Legos to entertain the littler ones. But overall I think we did great.

I did struggle when I realized I forgot my hot glue sticks at home. So the first group only had 5 sticks. But they really made it work. Like it wasn't perfect but it was still good. Even if I was stressed. And I would cut my finger in my pocket knife when I was helping cut windows out of boxes. Ouch. It was bleeding pretty bad and I was mad at myself.

But the kids did great. Only a few little finger burns on the hot glue guns. No one seriously injured. And they all worked really hard. It was nice to see.

They had a snack break half way through the morning. I would have my little lunch then since I was planning on quickly driving home to get the hot glue during their lunch half hour.

After their snack some of them finished quickly. Some took the rest of the hour. Other started drawing. I had music going. It was a little tough for me to find music without cursing so we ended up listening to Mitski and Julien Baker all day. Which I enjoyed and I think kept the space calm.

We finished the morning session and Parker collected the other class and my class and I headed to the car.

I quickly drove home. Washed my face and tried to shake off the tired feeling. My feet hurt and it would only get worse. But it was okay. I grabbed the hot glue. Pet Sweetp. And quickly drove back. Got the same parking space even!

They were still at the park for lunch so I enjoyed sitting on the stairs outside. I was out there for like ten minutes when I heard the entire group of children chanting "all hail the dead bird!" Over and over. Children are hilarious.

I did have to ban chanting though because half of my second group was getting very frustrated by the boys repeating and being loud about eggs and I was getting frustrated too. You may worship the egg quietly in your head. I just don't want to hear it anymore.

The afternoon felt long. But I know it was mostly because I was very tired. I still had fun. And really enjoyed seeing what everyone was making. Some of the kids really were great at this project and I was so proud of them. This is for sure a 3rd/4th grade project. But what else it new, that's the age I work best with.

Around 330 we started cleaning up. Some were still working. Some were done. I was slowly cleaning up around them. Teaching some how to properly wash paint brushes. Giving others the job of sweeping. And soon parents were showing up.

As they were getting picked up I thanked them all for coming. One of the kids showed me a magic trick. I got to meet the other teachers who were teaching the kids to do magic tricks which was very neat. And after packing my wagon I was ready to go.

I checked in with Parker before I left. And he just said how awesome he thinks I am and how he loves how I know so many things. To be fair I know a little about a lot of things, and it's hurt me in the past. I remember when I applied for Penland to try and get a residency after college and they said I had to many directions in my portfolio. That I needed to focus. But that was never going to be me I guess. I think I like it better that way.

I held it together until I got home. But I was exhausted. My feet hurt so much. I desperately wanted to lay down.

And that's just what I did. I got home and took my shoes off and got on the couch. And that's where James found me not long after. I was very upset and very tired.

I just kept closing my eyes. But James asked me what I wanted for dinner and I wanted brass tap. It took me a while to get to that answer but I did get there. And it was hard to get up. But James pulled me off the couch and we headed to Towson.

James took us a fun back roads way. And I talked to them about some frustrations I am having and that helped me feel a little better.

We parked in the parking garage at the mall and went to the restaurant. And it wasn't amazing and I felt horrible. But I was happy to be with my James. Even if it was to loud. Ah well.

I still appreciated James trying to make me feel better. The food was fine and I saved the salad for tomorrow. We walked through the mall to go to the car because it had started to rain. And it was nice window shopping but I was very much ready to go home.

When we got back here I got changed and got in the couch. James did some painting for the stairwell. And me and Sweetp have just been resting.

And I am very very much ready for bed now. Thankfully the only plans I have this weekend is to have brunch with Callie tomorrow. She's coming to get me in the morning and we have reservations so I'm hoping it's pretty low stress. And I'm just really looking forward to seeing her. Hopefully I will sleep good and be able to feel amazing tomorrow.

I hope you all feel amazing too. I love you all very much. Goodnight everyone.

[harmonictechnicality]

Grocery shopping with Steve Harrington should not be such an arousing task, but it is.

It so is.

Eddie swears on all of his calloused fingers that watching Steve strut down the cereal aisle with his little shopping cart is better than hand stuff.

Seriously. He always walks a few feet behind Steve, just to get the perfect view of that award winning ass (Eddie made him a trophy for it last Valentine’s Day - it’s on their mantle).

They’ve been together for what? Eight years? And it never gets any less sexy. Watching him reach for the granola bars on the top shelf, stretching his annoyingly tucked in shirt.

Eddie pretends to peer through imaginary opera binoculars as Steve reads over the nutrition label. Steve flips it over a couple of times because he always forgets which brand he likes better - the blue box or the red box. Eddie never reminds him that his favorite is the blue box because the whole charade is too adorable.

But once Steve figures it out, he tosses the blue box into the cart, and Eddie always lets out this rumbly throat sound at the sight.

Steve turns his neck to look at Eddie. “This again?”

“This always.” Eddie catches up to Steve’s side at the canned food section, slides his hand in Steve’s back pocket. “Never not this.”

Steve rolls his eyes and bends down to grab a few cans of chicken noodle soup. Which holy fuck, seeing his boyfriend at a 75° angle holding his favorite soup preference? Eddie might as well be packaged and placed on the shelf. Cause his mind is turning to liquid. He’s becoming a bowl of horny broth at the sight of Steve all domestic and bent over.

Eddie quickly flicks off his jacket because the entire store just warmed up exponentially. Global warming doesn’t have shit on Steve Harrington holding discounted canned goods.

Steve lightly smacks Eddie's arm. “Pull yourself together.”

“I’ll pull your self onto my self.”

“Really?” Steve snorts. “That was the best you could come up with?”

“Yeah well, the lower quadrant of my brain shut off the second I visualized your ass dimple in the middle of the bread aisle.” Eddie explains, untucking one edge of Steve’s shirt.

“Sorry for the inconvenience to your grocery-kink brain.”

“You should be.” Grocery kink. Steve with a shopping cart kink. Eddie has both, no doubt.

And it’s totally true. The bread aisle is usually where all hope is lost for him. Fluffy breads, kneading dough, squishy carbs all around them. Steve’s sides are just begging to be squeezed in that aisle (amongst other places). The deli employee outwardly gawks as Eddie pokes at Steve's waist, pinching any area of skin that he can get his hands on.

"Just making sure the products are nice and fresh!" Eddie shouts to the employee, hugging Steve firmly from behind. The poor meat-slicing guy laughs nervously before scurrying into the stock room. Honestly, Eddie should probably feel more sympathetic but it's so hard to focus on anything else when Steve kisses his cheek. Accepts his weird affections fully.

"These people don't get paid enough to put up with your shit." Steve is laughing as he says it though. Clearly not that bothered by all of the attention he's getting. That's part of the reason they work so well together. They're absolute attention whores, equally.

"Okay, cut it out." Steve wiggles out from Eddie's grasp. "You're gonna smush the sourdough."

Eddie freezes. Mulls over the consequences over the next thing he's about to say. "Is that an invitation?"

"Ew."

"You said it."

"You twisted it."

"How could I not?"

"You need help." Steve turns down the next aisle, still speaking as he stays on task. "Preferably the kind that involves a person with a legal pad and a couch that you can lie down on."

Eddie snickers, thoroughly loves it when Steve bites back. Makes the chase feel like it just started, even after all these years.

He keeps it together for roughly twelve more minutes, which is probably a record. Eddie also deserves a trophy on their mantle for that - he's gonna hint to Steve about investing in one whenever they get back home.

But the aisle where Eddie’s composure levels malfunction entirely, is the frozen food section. See, whenever Steve opens the door to get milk or eggs or whatever essential dairy item they need, a rush of frigid air blows out. Makes Steve’s already bitable skin all bumpy. His neck is covered in little chill bumps, all of his baby hairs stick up with his raised skin.

This is the only instance where Eddie mildly wishes he were a cannibal, just to give Steve a little chomp. A little nibble at his change in skin texture. Eddie's not even sure why the chill bumps send him over the edge but they do - every damn time.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this.” Steve says once Eddie gets him pinned up behind the corner freezer in the very back.

"There were no snoopy old ladies around this time." Eddie licks all the way up to Steve's ear, tugging gently around the edges. "I checked."

Steve huffs once before taking Eddie's face with both hands, kissing him deep. The rest of his body is cold from the surrounding freezers, but Steve's lips are warm. Hotter every time Eddie's mouth connects to his again. Steve still tastes like the nectarine samples they had back at the produce aisle. The taste drives Eddie to suck on Steve's bottom lip, drinking up any leftover flavor he can. Make Steve's natural pout even more plush than it normally is.

He untucks the rest of Steve's annoying polo - lets his hands slide all the way around, landing at the small of Steve's back. Eddie presses his fingers into Steve's skin, making him shiver. Causing more chill bumps to rise. Ones that he created this time.

They've kissed like this over a thousand times by now, but it always feels different. It’s a new kiss on a new day.

And Eddie couldn't give a single fuck if the deli employee or the snoopy old lady saw them making out next to the lactose-free cheese selection. He'd show off his stupidly gorgeous boyfriend everywhere, make a complete spectacle out of it every damn time.

Steve would let him do it too. Eddie bets that Steve would let him get away with a full anarchist uprising if he wanted. Which he does. Kinda. After they're done kissing, obviously.

They stop only because Steve lets his lips part and his fingers drag down Eddie's chest. And whenever Steve does that move, he's approximately thirty seconds away from moaning explicit words. Loudly too. Eddie knows all of Steve's physical indicators by heart now. It’s practically Eddie’s native language, he would speak only that one if he could.

Eddie takes the cue to stash all of his hormones away - goes back to dotting small pecks all over Steve's face. He needs to get Steve laughing instead of panting. It's safer that way. Eddie isn't trying to get arrested in a supermarket for christ's sake (although that would make one hell of a story for family reunions).

They're sort of blotchy, all pinks and reds, as they get to the checkout line. The cashier must think their complexion is permanently like this. Every time she’s seen them, they’re blushed-up like Vegas showgirls. Eddie is immune to the embarrassment of the situation. He's pretty sure Steve is too - he can tell by the way Steve is still leaning all over him while he fumbles to get his wallet open. All love-drunk and kittenish.

They head back to their car, and Eddie gets one last look at Steve's signature shopping cart strut. He sighs dramatically - crushed inside that he'll have to wait till their next grocery run to see it again.

"That's it." Steve says after Eddie sighs for the fifth time. "You're returning the cart."

"Why?"

"It's punishment for your ridiculous behavior."

"Rude."

"Necessary."

"Fine." Eddie snatches the handle and stomps all the way to the cart corral at the front of the store.

This is an outrage. Steve should know that his sexy cart-walking encore is the best part of Shopping Day. Seeing him walk further away before returning - always doing a little hair ruffle thing as he comes back. It's Eddie's own version of Baywatch and Steve is ruining it.

He slides into the passenger seat, slamming the car door to emphasize his anger.

"Steve Harrington, I'm so fucking mad at y-"

Eddie can't even finish his sentence before Steve's mouth is on his. It's a messier kiss this time, Steve is doing all the moving while Eddie tries to figure out what's going on. He pulls back, raising both eyebrows.

"I get it now." Steve answers Eddie's nonverbal 'what the fuck' question.

"Get what?"

"The shopping cart thing." Steve looks Eddie up and down. "I get it."

Holy shit. "Were you checking me out?"

Steve nods. Shrugs. Nods again.

"How much time do you think we have before the ice cream melts?" Steve motions to the backseat, tucking in his lips, hiding a smirk.

Oh. That. They're doing that.

"I'd say we have..." Eddie checks the nonexistent watch on his wrist. "More than enough time."

They haven't had desperate car sex like this since their first year of dating. It's so good that Eddie wonders why they stopped having desperate car sex.

For the rest of the car ride home, they're obnoxiously touchy-feely. Eddie's hand stays glued to Steve's overpriced jeans. The denim is much softer than any pair of jeans that Eddie owns. Maybe that's why they cost a fortune.

Steve takes one hand off the steering wheel whenever there's a straight shot - rubs his fingers over Eddie's knuckles. Bounces off his rings like stepping stones.

They're nauseating. If Eddie saw any other couple act like this, he'd throw tomatoes ate them. Taunt them mercilessly.

But Steve Harrington is the prototype that future scientists will use one day to build their genetically flawless human race. So Eddie is allowed to be as nauseating and revolting as he wants.

Their plan failed. The ice cream is completely melted by the time they get home. But who fucking cares? Eddie is dating someone with his same weird shopping cart kink and that's all he could ever ask for.

And besides, that just means that they’ll have to go grocery shopping again.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, so you know “Justice League meets Batman’s kids, who they’d previously been unaware existed” AUs?

So picture that.....but this time, instead of them just having no knowledge of any of these other Gotham vigilantes at all....the Batkids all migrate to various cities as they get older and become known as their protectors - Dick in Bludhaven, Tim in San Francisco, Cass in Hong Kong, etc....

Meaning they’re all established figures, the Justice League are aware of them as solo local heroes who stick to their cities and so they just don’t interact with them much if at all, or else some are members of team lineups but are particularly vague about their histories or life outside of the team’s adventures....

So the big reveal isn’t that they become aware of all these other Gotham vigilantes all at once....its that some big conflict or whatever requires a huge team up of all available heroes, and in the aftermath, they figure out that like.....despite being known as solo heroes who work alone or loners outside of their team settings, 80% of these heroes all not only seem to already know each other, they seem to be related.

And so naturally they all turn to Batman, who has profiles on every known hero and they thus figure had researched these individuals too and just never mentioned this little detail, and they’re like, “Did you know about this?”

And then Nightwing turns to him too, arms crossed and is like, “Yeah Dad, did you know about this?”

And the infamous Red Hood is all: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have never met any of these people before in my life. Lives? Whatever.”

And then Red Robin moodily grates out “I have no siblings.” Since he’s nursing a grudge since Dick and Jason broke into his apartment the night before and replaced all his custom Red Robin gear with Darkwing Duck merchandise and his vengeance will be swift and also totally disproportionate because things escalate quickly in this family, that’s true in every universe.

Cass meanwhile has deftly skewered Jason’s lie by walking over to him and brazenly patting down the man with many many guns with no fear whatsoever. He squawks and futilely attempts to bat her hands away as she riffles through his many pockets, but he doesn’t seem shocked, just annoyed. Eventually, she pulls away and triumphantly reveals a box of Hello Kitty themed band-aids.

“So these are yours then? Just for you?” Black Bat asks smugly. Red Hood squints at the box.

“What the fuck? How long have those been in my jacket? Why are those in my jacket? Did you freaking plant them in my jacket just on the offchance you could at some point in the distant future use them at my expense?”

Black Bat frowns, puzzled. “Yes?”

“Oh come on, Dead Hood,” Spoiler says with an exaggerated toss of her head meant to convey she’s rolling her eyes beneath her own mask. She skips her way across the room to Black Bat and then drapes herself languidly all over the smaller woman. Who in turn doesn’t so much as twitch beneath the sudden added mass as Spoiler holds out her hand towards the box of band-aids. 

“One please. I have a boo-boo,” she says with easy familiarity straight into the intimidating cowl of Black Bat. Only then does she deign to finish her train of thought with Red Hood.

“I mean seriously, are you saying you don’t have potential blackmail set-ups, pre-rigged releases of incriminating material, and a random assortment of traps, pratfalls and mortifying scenarios in place for the express purpose of being able to humiliate any and all of your siblings at any given moment, without any need for additional prep time?”

“Is this true, Little Wing?” Nightwing whirls on the larger Red Hood with a faux-scandalized gasp. The founder and leader of the Titans, formerly the Teen Titans, renowned for his stratagems and calm competence when directing squads of supers in the heat of battle while he keeps pace with nothing more than naturally acquired acrobatics and a utility belt that apparently uses the same technology as Wonder Woman’s invisible jet....now appears to be....staggering with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead, moaning about how he felt....faint? 

What is happening right now, several dozen superheroes want to know. Is this a drill? Are they supposed to be checking for signs of a mental ambush from undetected psychic saboteurs? Did they all hit their heads at the exact same time and are now experiencing some kind of shared mass concussion?

Look, that wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen on the Watchtower. 

“Have I failed you so utterly?” The veteran child hero bemoans with a dramatic twirl - that when contrasted with his stern demeanor of a mere ten minutes ago - makes the fears of telepathic infiltration seem less paranoia and more....concerningly probable. “Did you learn nothing from me? Did you learn nothing from B?”

He stops and jabs a finger up at the sky. “Quick, everyone! What is the very first rule of Living While Batty?”

As if by rote, over a half a dozen voices chime in from all over the room, causing various heroes to jump. Spooked by yet more and more vigilantes joining in some kind of mass recitation like they and they alone have some kind of clue what the hell is going on and everyone else just hadn’t been invited to the party. Which is just rude, honestly. Nobody likes feeling like they weren’t invited to the party. Not even superheroes. 

“If you’re not going to bother preparing for every possible contingency and at least six impossible ones, you might as well just stay in bed.”

Even the Red Hood joins in the Illuminati chant or Cub Scout pledge or demonic ritual or whatever the fuck that just was, though his slumped and exasperated posture gives away every hint of sulkiness his headgear otherwise would have kept safely hidden. He’s surprisingly more...expressive, than most who’d only known of him by reputation had expected him to be. The day continues to yield surprises.

“Of fucking course I do,” he growls out, snatching the box from Black Bat. She doesn’t even fight to hold onto it, just lets it go with a knowing smirk. “I wasn’t surprised by the idea of it, I was just surprised she bothered with such a weak effort. Like yeah whatever, actually those could be mine. I use those all the time at home. So what?”

He aggressively yanks one of the band-aids out of the box, fumbles with the peel-off strips with one hand and he roughly rolls up the sleeve of his jacket with the other. Then just slaps it on his forearm and raises said appendage high, showing it off this way and that. “See?”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Signal drawls from the other side of the room, nodding his head approvingly. “Totally convincing. Nice job walking that one back, you really showed them.”

Red Hood’s head snaps in his direction with ominous intent. “Watch it, Day-Glo.”

Signal just snorts.

“Yeah, like I’m gonna take constructive criticism on my name and costume from a dude who’s spent the last several years calling himself Red HOOD while running around in a freaking HELMET.”

“Its not meant to be literal, you fucking pedant.”

“So wait, its not literally a helmet? Huh, does it at least protect your head literally, or just like...symbolically? Like if Bane were to clock you across the head, would your concussion just be a metaphor? What’s the treatment protocol for a metaphorical concussion? Fluids, bedrest and a philosophical prescription of two chapters of Chicken Soup for the Soul as needed?”

“Laugh it up, KC and the Sunshine Band,” Red Hood bats back. “You just got yourself disinvited from Thursday night’s poker game.”

Signal just grins and folds his arms over his chest cockily. “Please. You’ve been looking for an excuse to ban me for weeks, cuz you know until you can prove I’m using my ghost vision to cheat, you can’t actually bring suit against me for it in Family Court.”

“That, and also Family Court isn’t a real thing, you toddler. Stop validating Wing-a-ding-ding’s obsession with Shitty TV Nostalgia and just call it that thing where Oracle traps us all in a room until we settle our latest fight without anyone getting stabbed.”

“Yeah, but like, say that five times fast,” Spoiler pipes up. “Its just not practical. Family Court’s way easier.”

“Says the one who’s not even in our fucking family.”

“And yet I grace you all with my sublime presence anyway,” she blows a kiss at him, beatifically unbothered. “You’re welcome.”

The Red Hood scoffs and rounds on his heel, zeroing in on Batwoman in the far corner.

“Hey Auntie B, my siblings are all dead to me and I just helped stop an alien invasion so I deserve nice things like a fun Saturday night. Can you get me into Dad’s fundraiser so I can crash it? He won’t put me back on the list until I promise not to bring any C-4 with me and I won’t promise not to bring any C-4 because he should just trust me that I won’t when I say I’m not gonna and he won’t trust me that I won’t until I admit I shouldn’t have brought any to that sting last month where three tiny little yachts blew up through barely any fault of my own, and I’m just not gonna do that ever because I have convictions and I feel I shouldn’t have to be punished for that. Y’know?”

Batwoman blinks at him. “Kid, I’m not gonna lie to you. You’re my nephew and I love you, but I stopped listening three seconds into all that.”

“Ugh, fine. Can you help me crash Dad’s event tonight so I can teach him a lesson about why he should just trust me not to make a scene so I don’t have to always make a scene to make a point.”

“Tempting as you make that sound,” she says wryly, “I have a strict policy for dealing with you lot and your......everything. I only worry about tolerating one of you at a time, and there’s seven of you, and seven days in the week. You each get your own. You know perfectly well its Robin’s day today. You get me on Tuesday, just like always.”

“Auntie B, we’re not like other families, are we?” Red Robin’s delivery is sarcastically childish and his question clearly rhetorical. Most of his attention is fixated on whatever it is he’s doing with his wrist-mounted computer. 

“No sweetie, we’re all severely fucked in the head and a little bit too comfortable with that.”

“Just checking. Oh hey, Hood, I just emailed you a patch for the hole in your firewall I exploited when replacing all my shit using your accounts just now.”

“You did what?”

“Used your accounts to pay to replace all my stuff that you fucked with last night?” Red Robin says slowly. “Did you not realize that I’ve been sticking within ten feet of you for the past five minutes just so I could clone your devices and do all that while BB and Spoiler kept you distracted? I gotta say, bro, I feel like that’s on you then.”

Red Hood swivels his helmeted head in the direction of the aforementioned two. Black Bat waves. Spoiler shoots him an utterly unrepentant thumbs up.

“You’d side with your ex over me? That’s what its come to?”

“My only allegiance is to chaos,” Spoiler says brightly. Black Bat shrugs.

“Plus he bribes better.”

“Hateful,” Red Hood points at Black Bat, moving on to level the same finger at Spoiler, who curtsies in acknowledgment: “Hateful-er.”

Then the finger rounds the bases to aim judgmentally at Red Robin. “Hateful-est. And that was all Nightwing’s idea anyway, not mine.”

“Oh, I assumed as much,” he says casually. “Your idea of a prank tends to have more of a Carrie vibe. Or be a literal literary reenactment.”

“Its called an homage, 4chan.”

“Whatever, plagiarist. And anyway, I couldn’t go after ‘Wing for payback on this one. He used an Immunity card. If you didn’t want me getting back at you, you should have used one too."

Red Hood looms aggressively. Red Robin ignores willfully. Round and round they go. Superheroes who can survive excessive G-Forces are getting dizzy just watching them have a largely motionless stand-off. That shouldn’t be how that works, but whatever. All the most infamously reclusive and isolated heroes in all hero-dom are apparently part of the same one big reclusive and isolated family of fucked up weirdos and they’re all officially bonkers. Nothing makes sense anymore. Reality broke. Try another stall.

“Okay, but see, in order to have an Immunity card, I would have to participate in one of you losers’ stupid Immunity challenges,” the Red Hood drags out with exaggerated patience. “And I’m just not going to do that, on account of those all being fucking stupid. You see the problem there?”

Red Robin just shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, bro. You can have principles or you can have an Immunity card. You can’t have both.”

Meanwhile, on another side of....the same room.....look, its like, an octagonal room, probably. It has a lot of sides. Robin fends off questions from an aggrieved looking Superboy.

“You never told me you had a bajillion brothers and sisters!”

“Yes but I never said I didn’t either.”

Superboy rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, so I should just assume everyone I meet has a bajillion secret brothers and sisters?”

“Well clearly it would have worked out in your favor in this instance if you had, now wouldn’t it?”

“Assuming of course that you can trust what has been said or implied here today and I am actually related to any of those numbskulls. Which I am not actually admitting to,” Robin tacks on hastily.

Superboy eyes him dubiously. “You joined in the same creepy chant all the others did and then got super self-conscious and looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Which uh. I did.”

“First off, your interpretation of body language is abyssmal. I do not get self-conscious,” Robin says with a delivery that probably could have benefited from being a little less self-conscious. “And second....that proves nothing. I guessed what they were going to say.”

“Word for word,” Superboy says super-skeptically.

“I’m very good at guessing things. You know this.”

“Okay. Guess how much I believe you right now then.”

Robin glares and folds his arms grumpily across his chest. 

“And what was that anyway? Was that like....you guys’ family motto or something like that?”

“Oh no,” Spoiler pipes up. “That’s much shorter.”

Superboy balks at that. “Wait, you guys actually have one of those for real?”

“Yup,” Steph says, counting out the words with her fingers. “He who laughs last....probably works for the Joker. So tranq him just to be safe. See? Only sixteen words. The first rule of Living While Batty is way longer, and what we said was just the abridged version. You should hear the original, before Black Bat put her foot down and refused to memorize it unless sizable edits were made.”

Superboy hovers between her and Robin now, both in mid-air and on the verge of taking Spoiler’s words as an invitation to hear just that. A low growl arises from Robin’s direction.

“Must you?” He asks the older vigilante, with a most put upon expression.

She looks at him pityingly. “Do you actually need me to answer that? Like, we’ve met, right? Hi, I’m Spoiler.”

“Wait, so Robin said that I just never specifically asked him if he had a bajillion brothers and sisters, and that’s why he didn’t tell me, so that means he wouldn’t have just lied and there’s not some code of secrecy that flat out forbids telling other people stuff, right?” Superboy realizes excitedly.

“Yes, excellent direction. Go on,” Spoiler says, steepling her fingers. Robin buries his face in the palm of one hand.

“Soooo, what other stuff could you tell me about Robin’s super top secret family that I wouldn’t think to ask about but that he would tell me about if I knew what questions to ask?”

She claps once, lightly but with emphasis. “Well done. You’ve passed the first barrier. Untold secrets await you behind just a few more.”

“I’ll get you for this,” Robin vows calmly. She waves a hand at him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you do it before January 1st, remember? You’ve promised retribution like ten times already this year and those don’t roll over, y’know. Rules are rules.”

“Enough!” Thunders a voice then, from the front of the room. Well one of the fronts anyway. Like sides, it has a lot of them, but this is the one where Batman’s standing. All eyes snap to him. Which is kinda just what eyes do when Batman says stuff like that. Its like his superpower, except he doesn’t actually have superpowers, which is what makes it scary. But where the snapping of the eyes (directional) is usually followed by Batman saying something else besides just “hey look at me,” here he pauses in the wake of his own call to attention’s waning reverberations. Uncharacteristically silent.

Not that, y’know, he’s normally Mr. Talkity Talk, but usually his silences feel like he has the words to fill them, he’s just withholding them. This though, this feels more like he doesn’t have any words at all. And he’s as confused by it as any of them, and most everyone else is confused by Batman being confused, and its this whole trickle down economy of confusion and its wrecking havoc on the value of the golden silence standard.

Of course, not everyone present is rendered spellbound with confusion.

“C’mon B,” Nightwing cajoles, leaning forward and practically radiating delight. “I think you know what you have to do now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Its not likely to come around again.”

Red Hood snickers beneath his helmet and chimes in. “Yeah Pops, go ahead. You do this and you’ll actually have my respect for a whole twenty four hours. No, wait. Sixteen. No! Eight. Yeah, eight. Still a good deal.”

“Carpe diem, B,” Red Robin grins, leaning back as if to enjoy the show.

“Hey! Infringe on my trademark one more time, dude,” Signal throws a faux-glare at the former. Red Robin just quirks an eyebrow.

“And what, you’ll start saying Yum every time you eat a burger? Oh no. I’m hoist by my own petard.”

Signal flips him off with a grin and then redirects his attention back to Batman. “Yeah seriously though B, you kinda gotta do it now. Because if you don’t do it, then you’ll forever be the guy who didn’t do it, and you don’t want to be that guy, do you?”

“Yeah you really don’t want to be that guy,” Spoiler shouts out. “Nobody likes that guy. He’s the worst.”

“Do it, do it,” Black Bat starts chanting beside her, steadily picking up speed and volume. Several others start joining in. Even Robin appears to be slightly anticipatory, albeit trying very hard to hide it.

Batman sighs, and somehow everyone manages to hear it. Stills. Waits for....something? Nobody but them seems to have any clue what, but the air is thick and heavy with portentiousness. Something is about to happen, and all most of the heroes present could say for sure is it was something they never would have in a million years seen coming.

Finally, Batman straightens with the resigned air of a man about to have oh so many regrets. He crosses his arms, shakes his head, and in an absolute deadpan monotone, says:

“You are awful children. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing your father.”