#wouldn't know what to do if i were happy though

[worriedvision]

Ajaw ruins his relationship with you - Kinich

Gender neutral reader, angst. No happy ending here, borderline crack BC Ajaw is a cracky character let's be honest. Ajaws a little shit here

--

Kinich had, somehow, caught your eye enough for you to successfully land a date with him. One date becomes two, and the third one ends in you inviting him over for a drink. He accepts, and before you know it your home becomes a place for him to call home as well. While Kinich wasn't very emotive, he seemed to smile just a bit around you.

However, the couple affections you would expect from him in a relationship weren't coming. Nothing like kissing or hugging, and for a while you think it's because Kinich was not a touchy person. You also knew he was very busy with his work, which was why the first few times he left and told you not to wait for him you didn't think much. At the time, in fact, you were more attracted to him because he was honest with you.

"Don't wait up." He blankly states, every morning he leaves. If you're lucky, he comes back at night time only to sleep - he doesn't make himself any food or drink from your home.

You got suspicious of him when you were hanging out with Mualani, and she brought up the fact someone called Ajaw wouldn't stop nagging at Kinich. When you ask who Ajaw was, rather if this was his boss, Mualani laughs.

"Ajaw probably thinks so, but they bickering too often to do any work together." Mualani tuts. "Do you never hear Ajaw? That voice is so... Annoying to hear!"

"No...I've never met this Ajaw." You hum out, Mualani gasping.

"Tell me your tricks!"

--

Once you get home from your interaction with your friend, you've had enough time to think. After some long thinking, you come to a decision. You move the stuff that's Kinich's, leaving them by the front door, and add temporary locks in addition to the one your key locks until you can change the lock.

To your surprise, Kinich sounds surprised when he notices his bags out. You refuse to open the door, having more than enough time to waste as you had a day off, and Kinich defeatedly picks up his few belongings before leaving.

--

"Hah! You should see your face!" Ajaw jeers, Mualani and Kinich groaning out at Ajaws harsh words. "Good thing _ wisened up and realised they can do a lot better than some mortal being that can't even get himself a group of companions!"

"Because you always ruin things." Mualani sighs.

"Hey, I can't take credit for this one! I never even once spoke around _!" Ajaw shrugs, putting some sunglasses on.

"I was hoping to finally get to spend some time with them. I've finally got enough cover for a few days." Kinich states, seeming to realise what Ajaw did. "...Mualani, you know how annoying Ajaw is. Do you know if -"

"Oddly enough no! Honestly, I'm jealous. Ajaw doesn't know when to shut up."

"...It seems they do." Kinich massages his temples, Mualani making eye contact with him.

"...Do you think they were suspicious you were seeing Ajaw? Yuck!"

"Hey, I can hear you, ya know?!"

"It makes sense though. They don't know Ajaw isn't even human, and also isn't mortal."

"Hahaha! Oh boy, even I didn't think keeping my mouth shut around your potential love interests would give this benefit!" Ajaw cackles, seeing Kinich's hand flying towards him. "Hey, what are - AHH!"

--

You keep getting asked if Kinich is single, each time you saying he wasn't seeing you anymore before they seem excited to pursue a taken man. It's quite concerning, really, you think theres little dignity in being the other person in the relationship.

Kinich tried to talk to you, but each time you saw him you'd make an excuse for being too busy before hearing some weird child cackling and screaming in retaliation to someone reacting to them. As much as his hurt expression spoke to you, you still knew in your mind that Kinich was in a relationship.

Even if he wasn't, you would know in your mind that you were the second choice.

[d34dlysinner]

This is just a funny thought I had, but have ya ever done that school prank where ya jab two fingers into someone's waist/sides from behind?my school called it Taser

Some of the whb guys (Marbas) just have their waists out and vulnerable. Imagine just jabbing their waists and trying to run away afterwards, some of them probably laugh while others squeak. I just remembered being the target of this often cause I didn't really react lol.

okay this is a funny thought will mention some of the boys in here (the kings and right hands and some extra boys)

Satan felt two little fingers jab into his waist and turned around thinking that someone was challenging him in a disrespectful way. It was only till he saw that it was you that he calmed down and sighed. He gave you a warm smile and asked what your goals were by poking him like that. He didn't mind the reason eventually mostly because it was you. He did the same later during the day when you were off guard. Laughing when you were shocked. Sitri jumped a little before putting his teacup down. "MC... I'm happy you'd think it's funny to partake in these activities, but maybe you've interacted with Leraye too much?", is all he would say before giving you a small smile. "Though I wouldn't mind you touching me again." Mammon didn't even feel you jab into his waist. He only noticed that you were there, because he heard someone wincing in pain. Concerned he asked you what happened only to laugh at how you injured yourself. "If you want attention you can always demand my time.", he says before carrying you around Tartaros yet again. Bimet flinched a little but looked back at you with the most sarcastic face he could pull off. "If you have time poking people you should have time managing your bank account.", he says as he believes that you can always better spend your time earning money. He will sigh and pat your head after he noticed that your mood was low after he gave you a lecture. Valefor would smile and pat your head before asking your plans for the day. Maybe you'd want to spend it with him since you're here already? Leviathan he flinched and gave you a nasty look. "Why did you do that?", he would ask as he becomes sceptical to your reasoning for poking him. "You shouldn't do that when I'm working at least." He says before he walks off. At least he wouldn't hang you for something like that. Glasyalabolas ignored you. He just walked off and later, he would return to you to do the same to you... when you're taking a nap. Foras turned around and gave you a smile saying he didn't mind the poke. Later during the entire day you would feel random pokes of him. And you know it's him because it's always when you're alone and you feel someone poking you but you see no one. "There's no fun in it if you can see me."

Beelzebub instantly returned the gesture and made it a habit. Have fun with him poking you every time he visits you. Bael was too busy to care at the moment. Later on, when he's taking a break, will he ask you why you would poke him. Amon woke up from his usual nap and dragged you into his arms. He would poke you once before napping with you in his arms. Stolas yelped and turned around with a light blush on his face. He was about to point his gun and hurl insults your way until he realized that it was you. "Don't ever do that again.", is all he said before giving you a light huff and walking away. Lucifer stared at you with a blank expression as you stood there expecting a bit more from him. You didn't get a reaction out of him but definitely got one from the snake on his jacket. "Sorry", you whisper to the snake as you awkwardly excused yourself. Marbas noticed you poking him but didn't say anything apart from "I'm busy right now." Plus he is tied up. he wouldn't be able to do a lot to you to begin with. Gamigin jumped and his chimes were making a lot of noise. "MC! You scared me for a second...", he said before giving you a smile. He gave you a poke afterward. Morax would see you approach him. He would question what you were doing. He saw some hesitation in your actions and asked what was troubling you. When you explained that you wanted to poke him he understood your hesitation. "A little poke wouldn't hurt me if you're worrying about that.", he said as he gave you a little smile. Belphegor continued sleeping. You knew you wouldn't get a reaction out of him unless you do it constantly for a few minutes. He would warn you once. If you do it again he would send you back to Gehenna. Beleth would smile and most likely would flirt with you. Just for entertainment but if the flirting leads to something else (something more steamy) then he wouldn't mind it. Andrealphus gave you a smile before holding your hands. "Instead of poking me you could hold my hand like this. That way I can also know that it's you."

[squinch-depraved]

I was watching a chuckle sammy episode today and there was a part where Schlatt said he would hire a hot secretary just to keep him company. I'd love a story about that if you're willing.

The episode is the zodiac one the part I'm referring to is exactly 1 hour in.

this is reallllly yummy i hope i did it justice for you

it was supposed to be just a joke. just a bit for the podcast, a few sentences about hiring an attractive secretary and nothing more. but they stuck in schlatt's mind and hung heavy over him for the rest of that night. he really was lonely. and ted had a point, hiring someone to just be around (and look pretty) was looking like a better and better idea every second. so he finished off his bottle of benedictine, not that there was much left, and tossed it to the side, stretching out further on the couch while he pulled out his phone and set to work searching for an assistant.

it wasn't long before ted heard about his search, and the two men bantered in a call for a few minutes about it before the older of the two stopped his jokes to suggest, "no, but for real though, i have a friend who just moved back to new york, you might remember her, she was on the set for this past chuckle week helping in the background. y/n?"

schlatt's pupils dilated and he took in a breath. "yeah, i remember her," he replied coolly. "thought she was in school though?" he played with something on his desk.

ted lit up. "yeah, she's studying, but i'm sure she'd be willing to work something out with you." his voice was laced with knowing. he had seen the way schlatt sized you up the first time he laid eyes on you, the way he could never meet your gaze and how he always looked to you first when he made a joke. "i'll send you her info, you should reach out, man. she'll be happy to hear from you."

that last line was the only reason schlatt did it. he cursed himself for letting ted convince him now that you were here in front of him. you had been invited to a coffee shop to discuss the job details, and when you finally showed up, he looked incredibly uncomfortable sitting at a small table. but you sat down in front of him, smiling up at him and pushing your glasses up on your nose.

"hi schlatt!" you greeted him, reaching out to shake his hand. he gripped you a bit too hard and grimaced when you made a small noise, shaking your hand out when he let go. "thank you so much for the opportunity, i was really worried i wouldn't be able to find a good job for a while with my school going on and everything."

he nodded hastily and pushed a pastry he ordered for you towards you on the table. you smiled and yanked it towards you, beginning to eat as he spoke. "basically, i just need you to get any random tasks i need done, done. just, paperwork, if there ever is any, usually it's all digital, uhh, anything that slips through the cracks. i just need someone to be there and make sure my shit is taken care of."

you raised a brow. "sounds like you need more than an assistant," you responded with a smirk. his face reddened and he looked away, trying to shove down the thoughts of why you were really here. you were making a joke, but it wasn't funny to him. not when you didn't know you were right.

"shit, i'm sorry schlatt, i didn't mean to insult you-"

"'s fine. not insulted. i need you in the office whenever i'm there, sometimes i get work done at my apartment, so here's a key to both. feel free to get your own shit done whenever you're working unless i need you doing something. pay's fifty an hour. can you start today?" he slaps two keys down onto the table as well as two addresses written down on a half-crumpled napkin. you stare up at him in shock before snatching the keys and paper.

"fifty bucks an hour???" you whisper-screamed at him before the startled look on his face pulled you back into reality. "what about this job is worth paying me that much? i'm accepting it, no takesies backsies, but why so much, schlatt?" you tilted your head at him as you asked.

he scrambled for an answer to your question that wasn't "i want to spoil you until you can't think of anything else in the world you want," but when he opened his mouth to talk, nothing came out. you sighed and answered his previous question instead.

"yeah, i can start today. let's go ahead and get to work, boss," you said, standing up and collecting all your school stuff you brought in with you. "take me somewhere i can dump my stuff!"

weeks passed, you fell into rhythm with his fucked up schedule easily, quickly learning when to fetch him more caffeine and when to take away his alcohol. you kept him organized, boosting his productivity and helping him with almost anything he needed. you learned a few days in the fifty an hour was for no good reason other than maybe ted had told him you were struggling to pay for school (he hadn't) because most of your job was sitting at another desk, sometimes in the same room, sometimes separated by walls, parallel playing with schlatt as he filmed or streamed or edited or did whatever he needed to do while you worked on schoolwork or a fun hobby you were into. you were being paid to do minimal office work, study and relax, and best of all, care for your hot boss. he loved when you called him that, boss, it always made his cock twitch and his brain flood with thoughts of you under him.

the worst part of the job was how attracted you were to him. it made doting on him inevitable when your whole source of income was reliant on you making sure he was "taken care of." he noticed you acting more lovingly for the first time when you brought a water bottle to his desk while he was editing and massaged the back of his shoulders before mumbling, "you need to take a break and stretch soon," and leaving the room. he was stunned, skin burning under his sweater where you touched him. secretaries don't do that. he quickly opened up his messages with ted and began typing.

"dude. i fucked up. shouldn't have hired y/n. help." every sentence was a different message. moment later, ted eased the pounding of schlatt's heart a bit by replying.

"what happened??"

schlatt typed quickly. "she massaged my shoulders idk man i can't think around her"

"oh dear heavens, the damn harlot massaged you?"

schlatt didn't dignify that with a response. a few moment later, ted typed again.

"she's really into you dude, you should go for it. i promise she's not the type to sue you if it doesn't work out"

his main fear erased, he closed the chat and got off the computer, heading to find you in his apartment kitchen, going over the schedule for the days to come. music played from a speaker on the counter, and you paused it when you saw him come out.

"sorry, was it too loud?" you asked, looking up at him.

"nah," he shook his head. "you've been workin' for me for a few months now, y/n," he began.

you started shaking your head, backing up into his fridge. "schlatt, please, no, i need this job," you started to babble.

"shhh, nonono, not that at all, doll," he assured you, gliding across the floor to caress your cheek. the pet name made your stomach turn as you let him cup your face. "was gonna say somethin' else."

"what is it, then, boss?" you batted your lashes at him. he inhaled sharply and kissed you, absorbing the high pitched moan you let out. when he pulled away, you flicked your eyes down from his to his mouth and back up to meet his gaze before pulling him back in.

he tasted like whiskey, and he growled against your neck when you slid your hands under his shirt. "hired you just to keep me company but i can't keep my hands off you, doll." the nickname made you nervous for the second time that night.

"then don't keep 'em off me," you panted, puling your shirt off over your head and adjusting your skewed glasses. he drinks you in, inhaling the scent of your perfume (that you recently had to buy another of because he stole your first bottle to smell while he pumped his thick cock in his hand whenever you were gone). after a moment, he peeled your leggings off and picked you up, setting you down on the counter before he kneeled between your legs and looked up at you for permission to begin tasting you. you nodded, running your fingers through his brown curls while he started to lick and kiss at your cunt. much to his enjoyment, you didn't hold back your noises, letting your moans and cries bounce off the echoey walls of his apartment.

he slid a finger in you as he sang praises about how good you tasted for him, working his way up to two, and eventually three. you were crooning about how amazing he felt, knotting your fingers deeper into his hair and pulling it when you felt your high getting close, which made him moan directly onto your clit. you clenched your thighs around his head and ground down onto his face as he drew an orgasm from you.

once his face was thoroughly soaked with your juices, he pulled away and came up to kiss you for a bit before pulling you off the counter and spinning you around.

"i promise i'll fuck you properly, in a bed, next time, i just gotta have you now, toots." he bent you over the counter and slid his pants down, stroking his length a few times before slowly pushing into you. you both moaned, adjusting to each other, and he started thrusting, gripping your hips fiercely as you shrieked and adjusted your glasses again, to no avail because you were being shaken and throttled like a toy.

"god, you're so good!!" you screeched, moaning further when he smacked your ass in response.

"fuck, you look so cute, bent over on my counter like that, lettin' me use you like the good little assistant you are," he snarled. you let out a guttural whine at how hot he sounded. "you're so good at assisting me, baby."

your knees began to buckle and he grabbed you tighter to help hold you up.

"almost there, toots, c'mon. doin' so good."

you cried out one more time and his pace quickened, growing unsteady as he got closer to finishing. he thrust forcefully a few more times before pulling out to come all over your back and ass.

quiet settled over the kitchen as you both panted, and you heard him quietly snap a picture of you with his seed all over you before he grabbed a paper towel and began to clean you up.

"sorry," he mumbled.

you shook you head and turned around to kiss him. "can i stay the night?" you asked him.

he nodded, relieved, and slipped his pants back on.

"can i get paid for it?" you looked at him with a sly expression, glasses smudged.

he laughed. "absolutely."

[808airsoftbros]

Protective Scale of Vampire IVE

Author: Some Vampire concepts I came up with and if you want to check out more of my Vampire content check out my Masterlist

Rating on scale of 100...

An Yujin (Alpha)

Score: 100/100

Why?: Yujin, the Alpha of the IVE sister clan, oversees everything that goes on, protects you with her life, and will sacrifice herself if necessary. She wouldn't even allow you to go outside the world as she knows well how fucked society has become over the years and doesn't trust anyone but her Vampire sisters. She'd kill and threaten anyone that dare gets too close or even make eye contact and have strict rules you must follow without question because well... Yujin knows best.

Kim Gaeul (Enforcer)

Score: 100/100

Why?: Gaeul is just about the same as Yujin though a bit older by a shy 100 years, her parenting style is quite controlling than your typical human parenting, Gaeul always wants to know where you are at all times otherwise she will get worried, she is quite the mother of the clan and you are her most prized possession and doesn't want anyone snatching you away from her and she'd never forgive herself for losing you.

Jang Wonyoung

Score: 60/100

Why?: Wonyoung is quite laid back compared to the rest of her sisters, though that doesn't mean you can just go out and party with random strangers at night. Nope, Wonyoung does have her limits on your free time, she'd prefer going out with you more and loves to spend quality time with you, Wonyoung always tends to crave your attention and love as she'd given you ever since you were an infant. Wonyoung always wants to keep you company no matter where you go to ensure your protection and no evil human tries to kidnap you.

Naoi Rei

Score: 90/100

Why?: Being a Japanese Vampire, in her own culture of origin, she takes pride in her parenting duties, and keeping you safe is one of them... Even if she is seen as overprotective and overbearing but she doesn't care one bit about what others think. Who are they to talk about how she raises you as she sees fit? They don't know the sacrifices and hardships she had to go through to ensure your happiness and well-being.

Kim Jiwon (Liz)

Score: 85/100

Why?: Liz though is quite protective of you, she wants you to learn to solve problems on your own though she will step in if she sees that it's too much for you to handle alone. However, she'd never allow clubbing, drinking, or anything that can get you seriously hurt, not to mention that people will take advantage of you as she was a victim of it once and she doesn't want the same happening to you. Liz would follow you around wherever you go and would be cautious of whoever you interact with making sure they don't have sinister intentions.

Lee Hyunseo (Leeseo)

Score: 95/100

Why?: Leeseo may be the youngest of the clan but that doesn't mean she's naive and inexperienced enough not to take her duties seriously, Leeseo always puts your safety and well-being first before her own. Leeseo always checks on you often making sure you are safe and not doing anything foolish that can get you hurt as she cannot bear the thought of you getting injured. She wouldn't hesitate to discipline you as she sees fit to ensure you don't do break her rules again.

[gothghostiie]

I need Transmasc!141 to tie me up and fuck me like they hate me. I need Ghost to shove my face into his messy cunt and grind like he’s trying to kill me

hhh. yes.

cw: cnc, degrading, bondage, impact play (slapping, spanking, all that jazz), facesitting, strap ons, poly!141

mmm. they're so brutal when they want to be. usually they're happy with you just being passed around to eat pussy or ride straps, but who would they be to deny you when you ask them to step it up? after a long discussion of what, where, when, boundaries and safewords you settle on a little cnc, they just grab you whenever and have their fun with it.

it takes a while, they only do it after their next mission together. theyre all still on edge, adrenaline pumping through their veins - so they make a beeline to your quarters. the door flies open, youre suddenly being held down and tied up with ropes and zip ties, struggling until you realise whats happening. finally. you're being groped all over, clothes cut and ripped off, spanked wherever they can get some slaps in. god knows they prepared for this long ago, some quickly putting on their straps they stashed here a long time ago, others too busy with spreading your legs and playing with your throbbing sex.

price is the first one to shove his strap inside you, turning you on your back to make sure you can watch whats happening. he immediately ruts into you harshly, making you see stars from the sheer force of it, but god you wouldn't have it any other way. he talks dirty to you, telling you what a massive fucking slut you are for letting everyone use you like this. youre almost unable to listen over your own moans, especially when you see kyle kneel down behind price, knowing damn well hes helping his captain cum. prices moans get louder than they were anyway, kyles fingers brushing against your stuffed hole every now and then, fucking with your head as he acts like he might just add them too. soap isnt helping either, going down on your poor clit/cock and sucking it, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nerves. you're unable to even cum at this point, its too much, too good, youre overstimulated all over.

but of course its not done with this, the momemt price cums they switch places, with kyle now fucking you. his strap is longer, not stretching you out as much but brushing spots that make you howl. his hands dig into your thighs, a grin on his lips at the noises you're making - even though they're about to be muffled by ghost. he gets close, climbing on top of you and straddling your face briefly before properly sitting down. he's grinding his sopping cunt into your face roughly, rocking his hips while looking down at you, gritting his teeth. you can barely breathe, moans and cries vibrating against his pussy as gaz keeps fucking you, soap continuing his assault on your cock/clit. and you know damn well none of them are getting off of you until you tap out or pass out.

[jo-harrington]

Become What You Were Meant To Be (Eddie Munson)

Word Count: 2.4k

Themes/Warnings: Modern!Eddie, Older!Eddie, set in the mid-2010s, fandom lingo, nerd lingo, Star Wars, typical childhood bullying, angst, minor FOI reference, some canon divergence, coming of age themes, probably poorly written and not edited at all

Note: Happy Birthday to one of the backbones of this fandom, who supports and encourages so many of us, whose endless friendship I am so grateful for. Someone who has absolute endless creativity but doesn't give herself enough credit and grace, who is secretly sitting in the background pulling the strings on some of the best stories I've read and I've written. My muse, my life, my world, my cheeseburger. @fracturedarkness

Thanks to @dr-aculaaa for the beta.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie Munson was a nerd.

Point blank, end of story.

It was one of those badges he wore along with Freak and loser and...well, you get the gist of it. But it was a badge worn with pride. He owned his identity. Wasn't afraid to show everyone he came across who he was.

It hadn't always been that way.

There used to be a time when it felt like the worst thing in the world to be a nerd like that. The kids bullied him because he got overly excited talking about his favorite characters and favorite books that they found boring. They all teased him when he wrote stories about exciting heroes from fantastical worlds in English class, even though the teacher told him that his stories were ambitious and imaginative. And when he spent lunch doodling in his notebook instead of playing kickball or foursquare? Well, you get the point.

"You're so weird." They mocked him. "You're a freak. Draw normal things. Like normal things. Why can't you just be normal?"

It was cruel, in the way that children naively become perpetrators of cruelness. And it made Eddie sad.

Because what did that mean? He couldn't draw normal things, or like normal things, or do normal things. Then he wouldn't be himself anymore.

And that was the point where he decided normal was overrated. Why would he want to be normal when he could be...anything else.

He could pretend he was one of the Pevensies upon a throne at Cair Paravel. Or one of the Ghostbusters. Or a Jedi...

Of course, he couldn't actually be anything else; he was stuck being boring, old, nerdy Eddie Munson.

It wasn't until middle school--you know, middle school, when everyone decides to embrace who they are and become an individual--that he decided being Eddie Munson wasn't all that bad after all.

This epiphany definitely didn't happen after a Hot Topic opened up at StarCourt Mall. No sir. Not when one of the older kids that worked there, sporting armfuls of tattoos and a lip ring, told him the pen drawings on the toe caps of his sneakers were cool. Of course not. And not after he used the last bit of his birthday money to buy a cool band t-shirt and colored hair gel. Pssshhh...

So on the first day of 8th grade, he showed up rocking his dad's old leather jacket--the one that practically swallowed him--jeans that he ripped himself and a poor excuse for a mohawk, ready to accept the Freak label proudly.

He also accepted detention for breaking the dress code.

And a grounding from Wayne for cutting up a nice pair of jeans.

And a buzzcut because he'd done that poor of a job of cutting his hair for that mohawk.

But he'd gained a friend.

Several friends actually.

Ronnie Ecker and Doug Teague. They were both in the same grade as him, and shared many classes. And it might have been a little embarrassing, but a sixth grader named Jeff who told Eddie that he was his hero. That made Eddie feel like he was on top of the world!

They were friends that stayed with him all through high school, and when he repeated his senior year twice, even more joined the mix along the way.

Band kids and science fair nerds and...and...and...

He called them his sheepies, and he their shepherd clad in black band tees and ripped jeans.

And Eddie?

Eddie just got nerdier.

Got weirder.

Dug himself deeper into the pit of stark individualism that the close-minded town of Hawkins didn't know how to react to.

It was glorious.

He listened to music that made other kids cringe and turn away and neighbors complain about the noise; he liked it so much that he made his friends start a band with him. They played at every single school talent show until they graduated; they never won and sometimes people tried to plug their ears, but to Eddie and his friend, their sound and that stage was exactly what their hearts yearned for. To them, the auditorium might as well have been Madison Square Garden.

He started playing Dungeons and Dragons--started a club of his own design, Hellfire--when he found the guidebooks on a dusty shelf at the library. They were seemingly untouched since their initial publication in the 70s, but they were like a key that unlocked something inside of Eddie. Something that he seemed to have forgotten along the way of reclaiming the name "Freak."

Through DnD, the imaginary worlds that he left behind early in his adolescence opened their doors to him once again.

And his friends, his players, never made fun of him for knowing the ins and outs of the worlds of their fantasies. Worlds like Greyhawk and Faerûn.

Worlds like a certain galaxy far...far away...

---

Eddie's re-entrance into the world of Star Wars had been...an interesting one to say the least.

To Eddie, Star Wars meant the original trilogy. Cut, print, sign the check.

When he thought of Jedi, he thought of Luke Skywalker and Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan and a puppet Yoda. And of course he thought of the dreaded Darth Vader.

Yeah he had his books from the library, a whole extended universe with Mara Jade and Jacen and Jaina. But he'd missed out on the prequels growing up; from being a little too young to see them in theaters, to the whole fiasco of his mother's passing right before Revenge of the Sith had premiered.

As he got older, the need to see them just wasn't there, and hearing from friends and enemies alike that it wasn't anything to write home about was the nail in the coffin.

Until he met one Dustin Henderson.

It was the Jar Jar Binks t-shirt he wore on the first day of his freshman year that got Eddie's attention.

"What is that?" he flicked a finger against the graphic as he ran into Dustin and his friends in the lunch line. "Something from that new Star Trek movie?"

Cue a whole rant about the Gungans and the Separatists and an inter-galactic conflict that made Eddie happily fold Dustin and his band of nerds into the protection of the Hellfire Club.

Eddie still refused to watch the prequels, no matter how much Dustin begged.

"I like it when you guys talk about them," Eddie shrugged off the pleas. "Even better when you guys act out the whole fight between Anakin and Obi-Wan. I'd sell my left nut to relive seeing you and Lucas do that in Wheelers basement; it was the best day of my life Henderson, I swear to god. There's no way the movies could actually beat that."

He hasn’t expected that those little idiots would trick him into a movie marathon for Lucas's birthday.

Even Gareth was in on the whole plan. Traitor.

But it was the beginning of the end.

From the movies to the books to the cartoons, Eddie's love of Star Wars was rekindled. He even spent a short stint as a gamer playing The Old Republic on the old PC that was tucked into the corner of the trailer.

And when a new movie was announced, Eddie happily took his nerd-dom to the next level.

Yes, he was the one to suggest they all dress up for the midnight showing of The Force Awakens, but if anyone asked it was Mike.

He spent hours on a stupid Boba Fett costume. It was a different set of skills to the mini-figures he was used to crafting for DnD. He had to think on a different scale. Hot glue and spray paint and too much cardboard. Only to find real cosplayers used foam, not cardboard. His paychecks from Thatcher Tires went straight to the project, until he had something halfway decent for the premiere.

"What?" he laughed along with his friends when they joked about the hot glue spiderwebs that he'd been too lazy to clean up. "It's not like I'll have to do this again; we're not dressing up next time."

Or so he thought...

There was something so magical about sitting in a movie theater, in the middle of December, at midnight, surrounded by other people who decided to dress up for the occasion, and a few dozen plastic lightsabers all lit up.

To listen to the theme, to read the crawl on a big screen, to see the camera pan down into the vastness of stars...

This was what it was to be a nerd.

There was something extra special about finding a new favorite character. Something that touched something deep down inside of you when you saw something of yourself in them.

And Eddie had always been drawn to the villains. Whether in the media he consumed or the characters he created for DnD. He knew why; he wasn't totally oblivious. To be the hero of his own story, he often had to become a villain to someone else.

Besides, villains always had a little bit more fun.

So when Kylo Ren first made his way on screen, Eddie knew that he was done for.

The mask, the lightsaber, the Dark Side of the Force, the anger...how many times had he almost given in to the anger he felt at being mocked and teased. He'd overcome that time and again; what if he'd just given in?

There was also something about being Al Munson Han Solo's son.

Yeah. He could understand the anger there.

But then he was also Elizabeth Leia's son...the conflict.

It took Eddie a few days to get over the initial flurry of thoughts after seeing Force Awakens for the first time. That was when he realized he needed to see it again. And again. A matinee showing on Christmas Eve with Wayne, who he also treated to lunch. The last showing on a Thursday in January. Another outing with the guys, refusing to admit that he'd already seen it a few times between opening night and then.

Thankfully, this time, Mike was the mastermind behind their plans for the next movie as they waited for the previews to finish.

"So," Mike sat up straight. "I think I wanna get an early dibs on dressing up like Poe when Episode 8 comes out."

"I think I wanna try my hand at making an Admiral Ackbar costume," Dustin said with utter confidence, and then turned to Eddie. "What about you?"

It caught Eddie off-guard for a second; should he just say Kylo? Did they expect him to want to dress up as anyone else? Maybe they thought that he would want to be Poe, leader of their misfit group as he was.

"Eddie's obviously Kylo," Jeff piped up. Eddie's head immediately turned to him. "What? Don't think we didn't watch you drool over that lightsaber last time."

"And his ship?" Gareth cackled one seat over. "Fuck the Falcon. I swear, if you could turn the van into something that looked like that ship..."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Lucas cackled.

"Hey I think I could figure out a pretty convincing Snoke," Eddie argued, trying to deflect their teasing, but secretly pleased that he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

And that his friends knew him so well.

---

For two years, Eddie worked on his costume.

Two. Years.

He was practically a different person by the time of the Last Jedi's opening night.

And yeah his motivation faltered, but he never quit.

It was strange, the need to perfect the costume. He’d almost given up many times. When there was a certain skill he wasn't good at or when he'd felt like it would never be finished. Every time, he felt like that silly kid who everyone just told to be normal. To like normal things.

He was growing up. He was a grown up! Shouldn’t he be passed all of this…silliness? Everyone else in the world seemed to think so, as they put away all the frivolities of childhood. Were they working round the clock and pricking their fingers on needles and burning themselves with hot glue?

Probably not.

Eddie found himself still stuck there, watching a world lose its joy and think that it was normal, and he always wondered if he should try to be normal too. For once in his life. The first time in his life.

But every time he thought about letting it all go, about putting his dream aside...something would come and drive him to keep going.

New promotional images, a new trailer. Especially the ones focused on Kylo himself.

"Let the past die," Kylo Ren grumbled in the voice over. "Kill it if you have to."

That became Eddie's driving force.

He owed it to himself to finish. He owed it to his younger self...not to let his dream die...to keep being weird and nerdy and happy.

"Let the past die," Eddie told himself as he stitched the hem of the tunic the week before opening night.

"Kill it if you have to," he said as he distressed the plastic helmet that he'd ordered, giving it the right amount of realism so it didn't just look like something so fake and commercial.

"Let the past die," his child self muttered, front teeth missing from the day Johnny B pushed him over on the playground because he was playing superheroes wrong. Eddie put a hand on his head and then stepped into his boots.

"Kill it if you have to," his preteen self urged him, self-assured, mohawk looking stupider than he realized way back when. Eddie flicked his ear good-naturedly before adjusting the cape on his shoulders.

There he stood--Eddie Munson, the young man, the freak, the nerd--in his bedroom before the mirror. He was adorned in pieces of foam and layers of fabric from the craft store, helmet tucked under his arm.

But in the mirror itself? There was Kylo Ren...there he was as Kylo Ren. In the hallway of a Star Destroyer, layered in armor and the shadows of the Dark Side itself, like he was ready for a battle with the Resistance.

Ready for the battle within himself.

But there was no battle, and the armor was actually Eddie's skin. This was his real self, his true self. All of his work came to fruition, all of the time and effort that he put into the craft. Not just two years working on a costume, but an entire lifetime poured into becoming an Eddie Munson who proudly wore the title nerd and freak and loser.

The destroyer melted away, and he was back in his bedroom once again. Surrounded by posters and books and drawings, by all of his crafts and his guitars and his endless clutter.

He smiled at himself, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

Eddie Munson was a nerd, and as he lit the lightsaber and he was washed in a glow of crackling red light, he knew that this was who he was always meant to be.

[fuyuu-chan]

There's a First in Everything

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

Fuyuu-chan: I'm sorry for not posting for a while, i got too busy with my life sooo yeah...anyway enjoy this little drabble.

Genre: Fluff

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

It was raining hard when you and Sylus was at a football field, you two just happened to pass by here and just chill since no one was currently here before going back home when the rain fall down. Sylus took your wrist and was about to lead you back to the car when you're the one who ended up dragging him at the center where puddles started forming, and you two getting drenched almost instantly due to the heavy rain.

"H-hey! What are you doing? You're gonna get sick, and get dirty, lets go to the car" he says as you let go of his wrist and twirling around enjoying the way the rain falls over you.

"C'mon lighten up! Didn't you do this when you were a kid?" You asked as you opened your arms.

"No, I don't do stuff like this. I have better things to do before and besides it will only make us sick" he states while coming closer to you.

"Aww you're missing out, but hey its time for you to try out the fun on getting drenched and to play in the rain!" You says as you hop on the puddles happily making him shake his head. "And we aren't gonna get sick if we go home and take a shower after, so just let out your inner child" you added, taking his hand while you're at it and basically running in the puddles.

"Hey!" He says, surprised by your action but didn't make a move to stop you as he saw how happy and carefree you are. I guess you had actually melted him completely with every little things you do by and became so soft for you, he wouldn't let anyone do this to him but for you, if it makes you smile then you know he would give in.

And to experience things with you that he had not done before or just completely new to the both of you is enough for him to enjoy it even though sometimes he doesn't get why you're so excited with such simplest things. But that's one of the reasons he likes...no love about you.

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, or repost to any other social media, Thank you.

[jetii]

Hello! I was wondering if I could 36 NSFW with Tech x fem!reader? Maybe where he said that nobody really gave him a challenge at the game, and readers ego is too high to back down from that offer even though she loses horribly. Established relationship perhaps? Also, I love your writing it’s amazing! You deserve all the love and followers

Hiii I'm so happy you requested this!!! I've been addicted to playing Kessel Sabacc in SW Outlaws for the past few weeks, and I was just waiting for the opportunity to work my knowledge into a fic. Literally wrote this as soon as I saw it in my inbox.

I consider this reader the same as the one from On Impulse if anyone cares!

Strategy

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 5,069

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, established relationship, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, light dom Tech, rough (but affectionate) sex

Prompt: 36. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc.”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Pure sabacc," you announce, throwing down your cards and leaning back in your chair. A relieved grin spreads across your face at Tech's expression. His mouth is a thin line and his eyes are squinted, but there's an exasperated glint in them.

"Yes, I know," he grumbles, dropping his own cards on the table. Tech isn't a sore loser, but he is a competitive one. And the fact that this is the second hand you've won in a row is definitely irking him.

You snatch up his discarded cards and start to shuffle. "What was that about me never winning a round?"

"It is an anomaly," Tech states emotionlessly.

"And you've done the calculations to prove it, haven't you?"

He doesn't answer.

"Well, maybe I'm just lucky tonight." You cross your arms, reveling in his annoyance. "You know, I was beginning to think you were cheating with all the times you've been winning."

Tech rolls his eyes, but you can tell he's fighting off a smirk.

"I wouldn't cheat. Besides, I don't need to. My superior memory allows me to calculate the chances of each outcome with ease, making me naturally skilled at the game. Whereas you," he continues, leaning across the table and resting his elbows on it, "must rely on luck, because your memory is abysmal. It's no surprise you've been losing so often."

"Hey!" you protest, tossing a card at him. It flutters through the air, but he catches it before it hits his goggles.

Tech leans forward, the card trapped between his index and middle finger. "I am merely pointing out the facts, darling."

You snatch the card from him and return it to the deck, refusing to meet his smug gaze. He's trying to distract you, and he knows it's working.

"You can't always rely on the facts," you say, dealing the cards out once again.

"I don't. I also use strategy. Which you should try, seeing as it would certainly help you win."

"Strategy?"

"Yes, like—"

"Like how you're trying to distract me by insulting my memory?"

Tech huffs a breathy laugh and tilts his chin down. "Is it working?"

"Absolutely not." You glance down at your cards, trying your best not to smirk at your hand. Another sylop. The deck is stacked in your favor this round, and you have a perfect chance of beating Tech.

"What do you say we make this more interesting?" you propose, watching Tech's head tilt in curiosity.

He places a chip down and draws a card before his eyes dart back to yours. "I'm listening."

"Strip sabacc."

Tech's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he almost drops the cards he's holding. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me," you tease, setting your cards down. "Whoever loses a round has to remove an item of clothing. If you lose all your clothes before I do, I win. If I lose mine first, you win. Deal?"

He takes a moment to contemplate the suggestion, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, and his eyes narrow, calculating the possibilities. When his lips curve into a smirk, you know he's made up his mind.

"Deal," he agrees, nodding once and adjusting his goggles. He lays down his cards face up—pair of ones. You frown at your own hand and drop them onto the table.

"Oh, come on! Again?"

Tech chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "I believe you're the one who suggested this game. Now, please, take off an item of clothing."

The cockiness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Tech may be a terrible flirt, but his confidence in himself is incredibly sexy.

You slip your boots off and kick them under the table, then lean back in your chair and cross your arms. Tech's eyes are locked on you, a devious smile playing at his lips.

"Now who's distracted?" you taunt, winking at him.

"Hardly," he answers. But you can see the flush on his face and the way his chest is rising and falling just a little bit faster than usual. He's excited, and he's trying to hide it.

“You know, you’re wearing a lot more clothes than I am," you argue, leaning forward on the table and batting your eyelashes innocently. “You should take off an item, too, for fairness' sake."

"Fine." He pulls his boots off and drops them onto the floor. "Happy now?"

"Very."

Tech picks up the deck and shuffles the cards, the corners of his lips turning up.

"This was your plan, wasn't it?" he asks.

"My plan was to finally win a game of sabacc against you. And maybe see you with less clothes on, but that's an added bonus."

Tech chuckles and slides the cards toward you, his eyes burning into yours. "You are very devious. Now, deal the cards, darling."

You quickly learn that the stakes have made the game a lot more fun. Your heart races as the tension between the two of you rises, each of you sneaking glances at the other while pretending not to. And it doesn't take long for Tech to get the upper hand, much to your dismay.

"I told you," he teases, smirking at you over his cards, "my superior memory allows me to calculate the probability—"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't need to brag," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. You draw another card, cursing when it doesn't help you in the slightest.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc," he says. You look up at Tech to see he's staring at his own cards, but the slight smile playing on his lips tells you he's aware of your annoyance.

You can't argue with that. You're the one that proposed the idea, and you're the one that can’t seem to stop losing, so now you're the one sitting on the ship with no shoes, socks, or a shirt, leaving only your pants and undergarments. Meanwhile, Tech has only removed his gloves and belt.

He places his cards face-up on the table, revealing another pure sabacc.

"Dammit," you sigh, throwing your own cards onto the table. "Again."

"Strip," Tech commands, and there's a huskiness to his voice that wasn't there before. His eyes are dark and intense as they follow your every move, and his mouth is curved in a devilish smile.

"Are you enjoying this?" you ask, unbuttoning your pants and standing from the chair.

"Immensely," he admits, his eyes not straying from you.

Heat spreads throughout your body at the intensity of his gaze. He watches with bated breath as you push the fabric down your legs, revealing the soft skin of your thighs, and he licks his lips subconsciously. The pants pool around your feet, and you kick them under the table before returning to your seat.

"Now who's the distracted one?"

"Not distracted," Tech replies, his eyes meeting yours. "Appreciating."

His words are heavy and sultry, and you can't stop the flush that colors your cheeks.

"You can appreciate me better if you lose another round," you tell him, shuffling the cards once again.

Tech's eyes narrow. "I think I'd prefer to watch you lose a few more."

The cockiness in his voice goes straight to your core, and a heat pools in your abdomen. Tech doesn't break eye contact, his stare intense and challenging, and a thrill shoots through you at the thought of what he could be thinking.

"I guess we'll see," you tell him, smirking.

You deal the cards, and Tech immediately throws a chip down, drawing his next card. A satisfied smile curves his lips. He's not even trying to hide his glee at your frustration, and it's infuriating.

You throw a chip onto your pile, drawing a card and praying that the Force will be on your side this round. You peek at the numbers and symbols on the card, and the disappointment is instant. It's the worst possible combination—a six and one. And you're out of chips.

When Tech sets his cards down, he does so slowly, drawing out the moment and relishing in your scowl.

You sigh, dropping your useless cards, and Tech's eyes brighten at the sight.

"Well, would you look at that?" he says, his voice filled with fake innocence. "I believe that's five in a row for me."

"No shit, really?" you mutter, rolling your eyes. "I had no idea."

He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, his hands folded together and his chin resting on top. "Strip."

It's the way he says it, like a command. His voice is low and gravelly, and you feel yourself getting wetter at the tone. He's so sure of himself, so cocky, and it's driving you wild.

"Do I have to?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

Tech's eyes narrow in on you. "Yes."

You stand and unclasp your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and slipping it off your arms. The cold air makes your nipples harden instantly, and his eyes widen when he sees them. He stares for a moment, taking in the view, and then his tongue darts out and licks his lips.

"I must admit, I'm finding this game more enjoyable than I originally thought," he says, his voice thick.

"Only because you're winning."

He hums in agreement and deals the next hand, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Throughout the round, Tech's eyes keep flicking back and forth between the cards and your chest, and you have to bite back a smile. He's trying so hard to concentrate, and his obvious struggle is adorable.

Tech's confidence fades as the round progresses, and by the time he sets his cards down, he isn't wearing his usual cocky smile. His mouth is pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows are knitted together when he shows you his hand.

"What's wrong, Tech?" you tease, leaning back in your seat. "Disappointed that you lost?"

"Of course not," he scoffs. "I've already calculated the possibilities and I know how this will end. I have no doubt that I will win."

"Then why are you pouting?"

"I am not pouting."

"Uh-huh. Well, whatever the reason, it's time for you to remove some clothes."

Tech sighs and slips off his goggles. His warm eyes meet yours, and you notice that they're slightly glazed over.

"There," he grumbles, pushing the goggles across the table toward you. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," you reply, a wide smile on your face.

Your eyes rake over him, taking in his appearance. It’s rare that you get to see him this way, and you savor the moment. Tech has always been handsome, but the way he looks right now, with his hair mussed and a blush coloring his cheeks, is absolutely enticing.

You pick up the deck and shuffle it, and the sound of the cards sliding together is the only noise in the room. Tech's eyes are fixed on your bare chest, and his throat bobs when he swallows.

"Like what you see?" you ask, raising a brow.

"Always."

Your cheeks flush, and you deal the cards. The anticipation is killing you, and the smugness that Tech was showing before is long gone. He seems eager to get the game over with, and the impatience in his demeanor is refreshing.

His eyes flick back and forth between the cards and the pile, and his face gives nothing away. You're desperate to know what his hand is, and it's taking every ounce of willpower not to peek.

He reaches across the table and throws a chip down, his brow furrowing. It's such a subtle change in his expression, and most people would miss it. But you know Tech well enough to understand his emotions, and right now he's frustrated.

Your heartbeat quickens as you draw a card. Another three to match the one already in your hand. Not great, but it's enough to win if Tech doesn't have a better sabacc.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him, watching as his eyes move from his cards to yours and back again.

"Strategy," he mutters.

"What kind of strategy?"

"The type of strategy that will guarantee my victory,” he says. His eyes are determined and his jaw is clenched. He glances up from his cards to meet your gaze, and the fire in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

"Show me your cards," he demands.

You do as he asks, laying the two twos face-up on the table. The look he gives you is nothing short of prideful, and your heart drops.

"You've got to be kidding me," you groan.

Tech reveals his own cards—a sylop and a one. You let out an exasperated huff, and he chuckles.

"Well," he starts, placing his cards on the table and leaning back in his chair. His gaze travels over your body, and his smirk widens. "Go on."

Your cheeks heat up under his scrutinizing stare, and a part of you wants to rebel and refuse to comply. But Tech looks so damn good right now, his eyes filled with mischief, and the excitement coursing through you is too much.

"You're having too much fun," you say, your voice low.

"I'd have more fun if you'd hurry up and finish this little game of ours," Tech retorts.

 You're about to give him a smart retort, but then you notice the way he shifts in his seat. It's subtle, and you doubt he even realizes it, but it's there. The tightening of his thighs, the slight twitch of his hands. He's just as turned on as you are.

And you decide to play into it.

"I'm in no rush." You stand, slowly, and let your hands travel down the expanse of your chest, cupping your breasts and running your thumbs over your nipples.

Tech's breath catches, and his eyes are dark as they watch your every move. You can see his fingers twitching, aching to touch you, but he's refraining. You run a hand down your stomach, over the hem of your panties, and he licks his lips again.

Then, without warning, you turn away from him, exposing your backside. Tech makes a sound of protest, but his objection quickly dies down when he sees you hook your thumbs into the waistband and slide your underwear down. You bend forward to push them down your legs, and you can hear the sharp intake of breath from Tech.

The moment you turn around, a mischievous glint in your eye, you're met with a new expression on Tech's face.

He looks hungry.

His pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, and you can tell it's taking all his strength not to jump across the table and take you right then and there.

"Well?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. "What are you waiting for?"

He doesn't waste a second. With one swift motion, he tosses the cards aside, his eyes never leaving yours, and stands. Then, he's on the other side of the table and grabbing your waist, pulling you towards him until your chest is pressed against his.

"I win," he announces, his hands roaming over your body.

"Then take your prize."

He pulls you into a searing kiss, his lips pressing insistently against yours. His hands travel the expanse of your skin, squeezing and caressing. One settles at the base of your neck while the other moves lower, down the curve of your back and to your ass. He grabs it, hard, and pulls your hips towards his, pressing his already-hard erection into you. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it up, his tongue delving deeper and dancing with yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and pressing your bare chest against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and his arousal is evident as he rocks his hips into yours, his hand squeezing and kneading your flesh.

When the two of you break away for air, his mouth moves lower, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking the sensitive skin at your pulse point. You tilt your head back, allowing him more access, and he takes full advantage. His tongue laves over the area, teeth nipping at the skin, and a breathy moan escapes your lips.

Tech's lips travel lower, across your collarbone and down your chest, stopping at the valley between your breasts. His breath fans over your skin, and his tongue darts out, licking a stripe along the underside of one breast. His fingers move up, brushing over the bud of your nipple, and you let out a whimper at the sensation.

He looks up at you, a satisfied smile playing at his lips, before bending and taking the other nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, his lips sucking the sensitive flesh, and his hand pinches the other one. The feeling sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and your hands find their way into his hair, tangling themselves in the strands.

You gasp as his teeth gently graze over the hardened peak, and your knees nearly buckle beneath you. His other hand comes up and holds your hip, steadying you, and his mouth moves to the other side.

"Tech..." you breathe, your head falling back and your eyes fluttering shut. He's barely touched you, and already, you're a panting mess.

Tech's lips travel further down, past your navel and to your thighs. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands trailing along the curves of your hips, and his lips press kisses into your skin.

"I've been wanting to taste you all day," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"You should've told me earlier," you breathe, looking down at him through hooded eyes. "We could've skipped the sabacc." 

"This was far more entertaining." He presses a kiss to your mound, and you shudder. His eyes are dark with lust, and the sight of him on his knees before you makes your core clench with anticipation.

Tech kisses your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste the skin. Your hands tighten in his hair, tugging and guiding him to where you need him most. He chuckles, and the warm breath fans over your sensitive flesh. 

His fingers dance across your skin, teasing the crease of your thighs, before one presses against your heat. A moan escapes your lips, and he presses harder, dragging his finger through your folds.

"You're already so wet," he murmurs, his eyes watching the way his finger moves. "Were you thinking about this while we were playing? About what would happen if you lost?"

"Yes," you answer truthfully, and the admission has him groaning.

He rubs circles into your clit, his touch sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your legs begin to shake, and you place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He glances up at you, the corner of his mouth turning up in a devilish smirk, and he presses a finger against your entrance. You whimper at the contact, and Tech lets out a quiet moan, the sight of you falling apart before him clearly affecting him.

"Tech, please," you beg, rocking your hips into his hand.

"Patience, darling," he coos.

He pushes the digit into you, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch, and then curls it upwards. You gasp, your hand gripping his shoulder tighter, and he begins to pump his finger in and out of you. His arm nudges your thigh, spreading your legs wider, and he leans in and presses his mouth to your clit. He licks a broad stripe up the sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling around it, and you cry out in pleasure.

His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady, while the other continues its slow movements, pushing in and out of you. You feel the tension coiling inside of you, and you know it won't take long for him to push you over the edge. His tongue is skilled and insistent, and he knows you better than anyone.

Tech's eyes are locked on yours, watching every reaction, and you can see the pure delight written on his face. He loves knowing he's the one doing this to you, making you fall apart.

"Tech... I'm..." You can't finish the sentence. The tension is building inside you, threatening to snap at any moment, and your breathing is labored. Tech adds a second finger, pumping faster and curling them against the spongy spot within you. You whimper, your grip on his shoulder tightening, and he knows you're close.

"Come for me," he says, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His palm slaps against your clit, his fingers curling deeper, and the coil inside you snaps.

"Fuck!" you gasp, your legs shaking as the orgasm crashes through you. Tech's arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you upright as your knees buckle. He continues pumping his fingers, drawing out the pleasure, his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit.

When the sensations become too much, you place a hand on his forehead and push him away, your body going slack. Tech pulls his fingers from you and places a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before standing, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Mhmm," you hum, a blissful smile tugging at your lips.

Tech's hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. He takes a step forward, guiding you backwards, and the backs of your legs hit the bunk.

"Tech, please," you beg, breaking the kiss and staring into his eyes. They're black with desire, and he's already reaching down, fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

He pushes them down his legs, kicking them away, and his cock springs free, already leaking. Your hand reaches for him, stroking him from base to tip, and he groans, his hips bucking into your touch.

You continue the slow movements, dragging your hand along his length and rubbing your thumb over the tip. Tech's breathing is heavy, and his head falls to your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Stop," he mutters, grabbing your wrist and halting the movement. "I want to last more than five seconds."

You chuckle and press a kiss to his jaw. "Well, let's go, then."

His eyes meet yours, and he nods. Then, in a swift motion, he spins you around and pushes you forward, bending you over the side of the bed.

He presses his body against yours, his cock grinding against your ass, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He's close, his breathing hot and heavy against your neck, and his hands are gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.

You feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance, and a shiver runs down your spine. You lean forward, resting your arms on the mattress and tilting your ass higher, and Tech lets out a deep moan at the sight.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers as one hand slides along the curve of your back.

“Hurry up," you urge, wiggling your hips against him.

His hand moves down your hip, across your ass, taking a moment to squeeze the flesh, and lower to the back of your thigh. His fingers dance along the skin, sending shivers down your spine, before coming to a stop at the back of your knee. He lifts it, propping it on the edge of the bunk, spreading your legs wider, and then his cock is lining up with your entrance.

He pushes in, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch. You whimper as he fills you, and his hand comes up, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back.

Tech pauses when he's fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush with yours, and his hand comes around to rest on your lower stomach. The light pressure on the spot is just enough to have you squirming, and you push back into him, silently begging for more.

"Please, Tech," you whimper, and he huffs a laugh.

"Begging already?" he teases, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. "I haven't even started yet."

He pulls out of you, and the drag of his cock has you whining, already missing the sensation. He pushes back in, slow and deep, and you let out a shaky breath.

"Fuck, Tech," you pant, and he groans, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck.

His pace is slow and methodical, and you can't help but admire the restraint he's showing. Usually, he's a mess by this point, but now, his fingers are digging into your hips, holding you steady, and his breathing is slow and controlled.

You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the sheets, and glance up at him. His eyes are shut tight, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but he seems determined not to lose control.

"Harder, Tech," you urge, pushing your hips back to meet his. He grunts and snaps his hips, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. You let out a moan, and Tech's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more forceful.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, trying to find purchase as he pounds into you. It's intoxicating, the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. And the sounds coming from his lips—the soft grunts and moans—are driving you wild. He's always quiet during sex, but the sounds he's making now are anything but.

Tech's grip on your hip tightens, and his hand on your stomach presses harder, holding you in place as his hips move faster. His thrusts are sharp and deep, and he hits that sweet spot inside you, sending tingling waves of pleasure through your body.

"Yes," you cry out, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust. "More, Tech."

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, his voice strained.

"You won't."

He lets out a strangled moan and slams his hips into yours, the movement nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. He continues his relentless pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip, and your head falls forward, resting against the sheets.

Your legs are shaking, and the tension inside you is threatening to snap at any moment. You can feel the fire burning in your abdomen, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, and the way Tech is panting against your neck isn't helping.

"That's it," he growls, his voice low and husky. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"I can feel you tightening around me." He groans, his pace never faltering. "You're going to come for me."

It's a demand, not a question. And you have no intention of disobeying him.

Tech's hand slides from your hip to your ass, squeezing the plump flesh. The possessiveness of the gesture has you keening, and you arch your back, presenting yourself to him. He growls at the sight, his hips slamming into yours.

"Stars, you're so fucking beautiful," he pants, his hand moving to your thigh and hiking your leg higher. The new angle allows him to slide deeper inside you, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the tears beginning to prick at your eyes.

"Tech, please," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his.

"What do you need, darling?" he asks, his voice strained. "Tell me."

"Make me come, please," you whine, and his hips jerk forward.

His hand is quick, sliding between your legs and finding your clit. He presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow circles, and the tension snaps. Your body goes rigid, and your vision blurs as the orgasm rips through you. You cry out, Tech's name falling from your lips, and your knees buckle, the only thing keeping you upright is his firm grip on your hips.

You bury your face in the sheets, muffling the sound of your moans, and Tech keeps pumping into you, his thrusts rocking you forward and sending your orgasm even higher.

He fucks you through the high, his pace never faltering, each thrust punching another gasp from you. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white and jaw clenched, and the pleasure is so intense that tears begin to roll down your cheeks. His cock twitches inside you, and you clench around him, desperate to push him over the edge.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppy. He's babbling now, his voice hoarse and broken, and you can tell he's close. "You're perfect, darling. You're— fuck, I love you, I love you, I love—"

His words are cut off by a deep groan, and his hips stutter. He slams into you one final time before he spills into you, hot and thick, and the feeling is enough to make you see stars. His hands are gripping your waist, bruising the flesh, and he pulls you into his lap as he turns and collapses onto the bed.

You both sit there, panting, his chest pressed against your back. His forehead is resting against your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. The two of you are covered in a sheen of sweat, and his hands are roaming your body, tracing gentle patterns across your skin.

"That was..." Tech trails off, unable to form the words.

"Yeah," you agree, leaning back against him. You take in a shaky breath and sigh. "I love you too, by the way."

"I know." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin. "I can't believe you suggested strip sabacc."

"And I can't believe you agreed."

"Well, I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see you naked," he chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles across your abdomen.

You laugh, and the sound is bright and clear. You shift in his lap, turning around and straddling his hips. His eyes are soft as he stares up at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe we should play it more often then," you joke, leaning down and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

"We will, if this is how you plan to reward me every time I win."

"Deal."

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

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

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

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

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

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

[perseephoneee]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥𝓘𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

↳ fic masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

a/n: the penultimate chapter, everyone. I can't believe we've made it so far. i hope this story kinda works...it was my first time doing longform and one day i will rewrite all of this to make more sense, but for now its as it is. I love you all.

Loki knew it was improper of him to have met you without a chaperone-like that, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted, no need, to see you. Damn the consequences. Still, guilt gnawed at him. You were innocent in these games, merely appeasing a figure bigger than yourself. He could relate to that.

On Sundays, he had breakfast with his mother. Thor was usually in meetings with the Allfather, but Loki was never truly wanted there and preferred to spend time with the lady of the house anyway. Their usual tea and assortment of pastries didn’t improve wasn't his mood, though, and he still felt contemplative. Frigga noticed.

"My son, what is wrong?" She questioned, putting her teacup down. She always drank jasmine, a delicacy they got from Odin's dealings with China. She preferred the lighter floral flavor to the Queen's English breakfast tea.

"Nothing is wrong, Mother," Loki lied, the words rolling off his tongue with ease. He was always good with lies. Unfortunately, his mother was even better at seeing through them.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the Chilton girl, would it? The one your brother didn't marry?" Frigga delicately grabbed a scone as if she were discussing the weather. She was trained to gather information without making it seem like she was. Another thing Loki learned from her. 

"The mamas of the ton gathered for tea the other day, and her Grandmother was discussing it," Frigga continued on. "Dreadful woman, truly, I don't envy those two girls."

Loki hid a laugh behind his hand, coughing instead and taking another sip of tea. 

"She was very loudly complaining about her youngest granddaughter's willful spirit and how it would give her a heart attack one of these days," Frigga chuckled. Loki got the sense she remembered the many times he and Thor had given her a scare.

"Some of the other mamas made comments about how you and she seemed to spend more time together than she and Thor," Frigga spooned some sugar into her tea. "So, my son, I will ask you again if anything is wrong."

Loki took a pause at that, holding his tongue. He drummed his fingers on the table. 

"I won't answer things you already know."

"Did something happen?" His mother raised a brow, a challenge in her gaze. His stubbornness was less from his father and more from his mother. She could will any man into submission.

"Nothing happened, mama," Loki sighed. Not a lie. Nothing happened. Although he wanted it to happen. He wanted to press his lips to yours, breathe in your scent, hold you so you could never fall away from him. Instead, he let go. He wouldn't be the stain on your life that he is on his fathers. 

Frigga pursed her lips, observing him. She set down her tea cup and rested her hands on the table, something she only did when she was about to say something of importance. Loki braced himself for a lecture. 

"Your brother is not a jealous man, and your father is a hard one to please," Frigga stated. "The only thing in the way of your happiness is yourself. I did not raise a fool." With that, Frigga excused herself from tea, leaving her son alone at the table. The only sound left in the room was the clicking of the grandfather clock, the minute hand matching the pace of his thoughts. 

Loki liked you. He might even love you. That was the only logical explanation for his delusions. He rubbed his eyes, hating the tension building up behind them as he thought of the chaos he had caused by even getting involved in the life of you. 

"Mother said I might find you here," Thor said from the doorway, walking over to the now vacant seat. Loki glanced up as Thor poured himself some tea. Or attempted to. He spilled some creamer and burned his fingers, picking up the cup from the body, not the handle. 

"You need to wait for it to cool," Loki sighed, wiping up the spilled creamer. It's appalling to Loki that his oaf of a brother is the one expected to take over the Odinson household. 

"I don't often drink tea."

"Clearly."

"But that's not why I'm here, brother," Thor ignores his jab, gingerly sipping his tea and visibly relaxing when it doesn't burn his tongue. 

"Oh joy," Loki leaves the table, strolling towards one of the setees. He, of course, does this quite dramatically. 

"I always thought you be clever, but I am shocked to find you acting so idiotic," Thor puts his tea down, standing up and heading Loki's way. 

"How dare you–"

"Lady Y/N is obviously enamored with you, and you with her. I don't understand why you aren't doing anything about it," Thor sighs. "Is it your own stubbornness? A sense of pride? Please explain it to me."

"I am not enamored with her, and it is not stubbornness," Loki hisses. "She can do better than me, a second son, anyway."

"Is that what you truly believe? That you are really just a second son?"

Loki doesn't respond to that. He just stares out of the window overlooking the room. His mother was inspired by Greek architecture and, therefore, put arched pillars as separators for the open windows. They overlooked the veranda, which was starting to transition into autumn. Oh, how time has passed. 

"I will be leaving for France in the coming months."

Loki turned to his brother, hiding a shock that otherwise would have covered his face. 

"Leaving? For what?"

"For war," Thor said. "Napolean is out of exile, and his troops are approaching Waterloo. I intend to be there alongside my brothers."

"You must be mad."

"Perhaps," Thor laughed. "But I have always wanted to fight, not to sit behind a desk and manage the affairs of a household. You have always been a better diplomat. I much prefer being a soldier." His brother took a seat on the settee, running a hand through his hair and waiting for Loki to sit down. "Allfather will be declaring you the heir as soon as you are wed. So, no, Loki, you are not the second son. You are the better one."

"I don't deserve you," Loki frowned, finally sitting down next to Thor. "You are a better brother than I could ever be."

"Life has not always been kind to you; that is alright; you are learning," Thor said, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, demanding his attention. "You deserve peace, and you are allowed to have it."

It is not often that Loki becomes emotional. He is used to putting aside his own wants for the needs of the crown. He is used to enduring verbal backlash from his father over every little thing. He is used to being ignored when his brother enters a room. So often, he felt like a tablepiece in his own home. But truly, he was an idiot. His brother saw him the whole time. 

Without another word, Loki embraced his brother, shocking them both. He was done being a tablepiece. He wanted to be seen. 

~

"Letter!" Ivy screamed from the bottom of the stairs, immediately being shushed by one of the housekeepers. Immediately after your rendezvous with Loki, you had told Ivy everything. All of your fears, wants, and concerns. You had actively been courted by Thor; you couldn't pursue Loki. But he put you in a compromising position that could have gotten you in trouble in society. Did you like Loki? Or did you convince yourself you did? These were the questions swirling around your brain all week. Ivy was in favor of you running off and eloping if only to annoy Grandmother. You hit her with a pillow for that statement. 

"Why would I be receiving a letter?" You ask, descending the stairs as you glared at the offending item. 

"No clue, but I think you should look at it," Ivy said coyly. You got the distinct impression she knew exactly what this letter was about. You took it out of her grasp, peeling off the wax seal and reading the inked words. 

Meet me at the ball by midnight tonight when we first conversed. 

Loki

"So?" Ivy peered over your shoulder. "What did he say?"

"Poetic things," you drawled. "He has such a way with words."

"You're lucky the man likes your sharp tongue; otherwise, you'd scare off all the suitors," Ivy sighed. You suppressed a small smile. "So? Are you going?"

"Did you write this?" You ask her, turning around and crossing your arms. 

"Of course I didn't!"

"Really?"

"I am not one to lie, sister," Ivy grabbed your hands, pulling you closer. "I am only the messenger. A messenger that is urging you to listen for once in your life." You only glared at your sister. 

"I have nothing to wear."

"I already bought you a dress."

"You've been planning this, haven't you?"

"Perhaps," Ivy shrugged. "Now, c'mon! I want enough time to transform you."

You indeed didn't have a choice. Ivy was persistent when she set her mind to something. She yanked your hair left and right to transform it into a perfectly curled and pinned high bun. The dress she chose was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you had no clue where she could've possibly afforded something like it. It was a deep green with a traditional empire waist, but the bodice was covered in a lacy emerald green fabric and decorated with a glimmery trim. The skirt faded to a lighter emerald green at the bottom, giving the appearance of a forest being lit up by the sunrise. You wore your mother's necklace to match, something that grounded the outfit into something wholesome yet romantic. 

"You look ethereal," Ivy looked at you in the vanity mirror. "You look like Mom."

You smiled, turning around to envelop your sister in a hug. "I love you, Ivy." She just squeezed you tighter. "I never want to go to another ball again; this is ridiculously tiresome." Ivy laughed at that and let you go, smoothing down the parts of your dress that got scrunched up. 

This event took place outside, a last-ditch effort to enjoy the weather before winter set in. The ball was set on the lake, with a variety of lanterns floating through the waters and hanging around the pavilion where guests danced. It looked like a twinkling city, and it was one of the few times when your breath was taken away. 

You were already getting more stares than usual from other people, perhaps because it was the first time you dressed up. Or perhaps because everyone knew that Thor didn't propose to you. You ignored their stares and found the first drink you could. It was a long way till midnight, and your nerves were already getting the better of you. You hiked up your skirts and found your way to the water's edge, where workers were helping guests set out lanterns of their own. You asked one of them if the lights were just for decoration or if there was a specific meaning. 

"To drive out the darkness of winter and hope for a longer spring, m'lady," he bowed, offering you a lantern of your own. You accepted graciously, finding a quiet place farther down the shore to push your lantern out. 

"Making a wish?" a familiar voice said. You turned to see Loki, arms crossed and looking every bit the prince he was meant to be. 

"Driving away the darkness, at least that's what they told me," you gestured towards where most of the partygoers were. 

"I believe in some traditions; it is also to honor the dead."

"What a somber occasion for a party."

"I surmise they didn't truly know the reason; they thought it would be pretty." Loki shrugged, earning a chuckle from you. You closed up again, remembering that awkward encounter all those nights ago. Turning to your lantern, you looked at the water before returning to the prince. 

"We need more lanterns," you declared, marching back to the initial servant who gave you yours. Loki followed behind, not saying anything, but you could tell he wanted to ask. You got three more lanterns and passed two to Loki, returning to the spot you scoped out before. 

"Do I dare ask what you're doing?"

"Honoring the deceased," you crouched down, taking one of the lanterns from Loki so you had three. He joined you on the ground, letting you have a moment with your three lanterns. Taking a breath, you pushed them all out on the water. He waited for a second to let his drift away as well. 

"To your sister," you said, bowing your head slightly. 

"To your family, may they find brighter shores," Loki breathed, eyes softening as he looked at you. 

You both continued sitting on the shores, not making a move to get up. If anyone caught you in this position, it would be trouble, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. 

"We can't go back, can we?" you whispered, looking out at the lanterns getting farther and farther from shore.

"No, we can't."

"Then, why haven't you asked me?" your voice cracked slightly, your eyes finding Loki's. 

"Because I'm worried I don't deserve you."

"That isn't up to you to decide, is it?" you inquired, raising a brow. Loki's mouth tilted up in a smile as if trying his best to suppress it but failing miserably. 

"I should probably ask then."

"Most likely, before the fireworks start and I am unable to hear you stumble through your speech," you jested, sliding back into your old routine so easily. Loki sat up, offering you a hand, which you took gratefully as you smoothed out, your dress. 

"Such a sharp tongue on you; will that ever change?" Loki questioned. 

"Most likely not."

"Good," Loki grinned. "I wouldn't want anything else."

"You're stalling."

"I might be a wordsmith, but being vulnerable is not something I particularly enjoy," Loki responded. "But with you, I am forced to be vulnerable, and it rather terrifies me. Except, I keep coming back despite that fear because a day without you is a day without the sun." Loki let out a breath, brows furrowed. He looked so serious, and you thought you had never seen him so handsome. "Y/N…marry me."

"Yes," you responded, grinning. "Now, I think I am owed something."

"Yes, yes you are."

Loki wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, gentle yet strong in a way that had you yearning for more. The fireworks erupted in the background, the party cheering for the colorful display of lights and excitement. You yourself felt like a firework, quickly bursting into a million specks coating the sky. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

taglist: @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @gruftiela @saay-karani @foxherder @lover-of-books-and-tea @lilaclaufeyson @gardasngan @evasmlp @swampespresso

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

you are keeping us well fed with the disabled!reader poolverine storyline tysm <3

The older boys, once fed and walked settled in with their devices. Content to play games with Wade and annoy you. The younger, Logan noted, velcroed himself to your side. Wanting to be held, wanting to be snuggled. And you were more than happy to do it.

He didn't want to rough house. When the livingroom devolved into a baby cage match, he brought you a book. Clamoring into your lap. And the two men traded a look.

You gathered him up, kissing the side of his head and just started reading. No questions or protests. And even the Older boys, drawn in by their own memories of story time made their way over with pillows to sprawl on. Settling in with their phones.

They felt a pang. You wouldn't get your own babies to cuddle, but it was pretty clear that the kids that you did get to love knew you were safe in your house. Making themselves at home. All day, they hadn't hesitated to get a snack or tease you. They never flinched at what Wade looked like or Logan's brooding. They knew your world was different even if they didn't know how exactly.

When Ronnie, the youngest dozed off you held him for a little bit before wiggling out and letting him lay on the couch and throwing a blanket over him. "Looks like I should start figuring out dinner, huh?"

"Pizza?" Zach, the oldest put in.

"You got, pizza money, homie?" you ask, leaning on the back of his chair, "Because I got 'works for the state' money and that will not order pizza for you three heathens."

"Aww man-"

"I do have mac and cheese stuff and some smoked susage and green beans, though," you muse.

"But is there extra cheese?" Zach asked.

"Do I look like your mother?"

He grinned and you ruffled his hair, heading to the kitchen to go start cooking and he followed you. Logan listened with half an ear, he knew a kid looking for a pep talk when he saw one.

And when he leaned against your shoulder and you rested your head on his for a second, Logan smiled a little. evidently you did too. "What's wrong, bug?"

"Nothing-"

"Uh-huh."

Zach huffed and you just waited, filling a pot with water and bustling around. "I just- mom's got me signed up for so much shit- and like, why?"

"Mostly because your grandma did it to us," you muse. "And also because she doesn't want you to turn out like us- mostly me."

Zach gave you a look and you smile a little. "I spent an absurd amount of time trying to be someone I wasn't baby. I just... Don't care about cars and having a big ass house. I don't WANT the life they mapped out for me. And even if I DID, I'm not sure I could even do it."

He watched you work for a second and looked at his brothers before looking back at you. "I used to try. And I'm not saying you shouldn't. But. Give yourself some grace... And as hard as it can be, give your mom some grace. She loves you."

He snorted and you crinkle your nose. "She does. Even if she doesn't show it like we want her to- Remember. She ALSO had to survive our parents and live to tell about it."

Zach shook his head, "Grandma is unhinged, dude."

"And she mellowed out once Dad started slipping her Klonopin. So. Imagine what she was like BEFORE that."

"Ugh." Zach shuddered and you nudged him out of your way handing him a soda with a laugh.

[hazelkjt]

"I snuck out often as a child and teenager, covering my forehead in a worn, old headband. Never got along with the other Garlean kids, too stiff and uptight for me to make friends with. So I tried my luck in the lower side of the city, hiding who I really was from the Ala Mhigan kids. Didn't matter though, they figured me out pretty quickly. Most of them kept their distance...except two that didn't seem to care at all. Ashe and Denrick Harker were their names, brother and sister from an Ala Mhigan mining family. They were my only real friends here, made everything worth it for me for years. And yet at every turn I was told not to."

"But why? What makes them so different from us? They can laugh, they can cry, they have dreams, can get happy, be sad, everything. What made us different, what made us 'better' than them? No one would ever tell me why. Why were they the ones called 'savages' when we were the ones who thought of them as less than nothing? We were the ones who beat them on the streets, in broad daylight...and the people cheered for it. People were dying right in front of them, and no one cared. Even my own mother and father, my family, just told me to look the other way. To let the guards 'clean up the trash' and ignore them...that they didn't matter."

"Sometimes I get the urge to rip this damn eye out of my head, but what would that accomplish? It wouldn't bring them back, it wouldn't change what I am. So it stays, as a reminder. I don't like to remember, but I can't ever let myself forget. I can't bring them back, I can at least help set their home free...it's the least I can do. I don't care what happens to me after that, at least I'll know I did right by Ashe and Denrick one last time."

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

I see this man and Im immediately in love with him everytime.

TW- Vulgar gesture behind Readers back.

You were leaning over the pool table trying to find the perfect shot, Claude and Yona giving out pointers while Edgar and Grey were doing their best to distract you.

Curtis was currently paying the group tab for the night as Paulie's was winding down. While his card was getting rung, he leaned against the bar, looking over the late-night crowd. Which was starting to thin out a bit, but still pretty busy.

It was what he liked seeing for his friend's business. This bar was an extension of home for Curtis and his friends success in it made him more than happy to continue helping out in any way he could.

What he didn't like though was the group of men leering at his Honey's backside as you were bending half over the table, trying to take your impossible shot. It wasn't like you were exposing anything, but Curtis's eyes narrowed on the way the group acted, one even making a lewd gesture with his hand over his pelvis, insinuating what he would do.

A growl escaped him, prompting him to push off the bar and with his steel-toe boots thudding heavily on the bar's old wooden floor, the group didn't even see Curtis descending on them. "I would tap that..." One of them started to say when Curtis grasped his arm around the mans neck, slamming him back into his chest and squeezing. The man's friends looked on in surprise as he snarled in his ear.

"You wouldn't be able to fucking handle her, she's mine." He snapped as the man was gasping and scrambling to break out of the hold.

The others sized him up, but Curtis was more built and taller, more intimidating. Young men barely old enough to go to a bar, they didn't know Curtis's history in finishing fights, but they picked up enough to know they would be fucked if they didn't stop.

"Listen, we didn't know man. We're sorry." Another tried reasoning with him. "We will leave."

Curtis gave another squeeze of his arm, making his hostage give a gasping wheeze in protest. "If I catch any of you looking at her again..." He released his hold, letting the man fall at his feet, gasping for air in huge gulps. "I will have no problem breaking every fucking bone you used to be vulgar towards her."

The young man's friends swooped in, dragging him out of Curtis's range. "Shit man, we won't!"

"Pay your tab and get out." He snarled, cold eyes pinned on them as they rushed to the bar, tossing out money onto the counter to make a hasty retreat. Paulie snickered as he gathered the bills off the counter, straightening them out.

"Feel better Curtis?" He asked as Curtis came back to get his card, grumbling to himself about dumbasses looking at his girl. "Well they more than paid for your tab too, here, take half of it. I think they just unloaded their wallets."

"I ain't taking their fucking money." Curtis swiped it up and stuffed it into a nearby tips jar. "Give it to your staff tonight, they earned it putting up with those pieces of shit."

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 90

My hands trembled as I stared at the positive pregnancy test in my hand, unable to pull my gaze from the reflection in the mirror. I could hear Steve pacing on the other side of the door, his footsteps like a metronome ticking down the seconds of uncertainty. Sam had quietly excused himself, leaving to sit by the lake, giving us space for this moment.

"Sweetheart, everything okay in there? It’s been a while," Steve's voice, filled with concern, broke the silence.

I had been frozen in place for what felt like hours, hoping—irrationally—that the result might change if I just waited long enough. But it wouldn't. I knew that. And the moment I stepped out of this bathroom, it would all become real.

Steve would be ecstatic, overjoyed in a way that made my heart ache. But as for me... I wasn’t ready to feel that same joy. I was scared—worried about everything that could go wrong, and whether we were ready for this.

I took one last deep breath, trying to steady myself for Steve's reaction, and stepped out of the bathroom, the pregnancy test clutched in my hand. With an uneasy smile, I held it up, my voice trembling as I said, "It’s positive. I’m pregnant."

Steve’s eyes immediately lit up with joy, a glimmer of tears forming, though he tried to remain composed for my sake. He gently took the test from my hand, looking at it with a soft, solemn smile. "Ok," he said, his voice calm and measured. "Maybe we should get a few more tests, just to be sure." His hand found my arm, rubbing it in soothing circles, offering comfort even though I could see the excitement barely contained behind his eyes.

Steve sat me down at the kitchen table, his gaze fixed on mine, his brow furrowed with concern. "So, what do we do now?" he asked softly, the weight of the moment settling in.

I stared down at my hands, unable to form a coherent thought as memories of my first pregnancy came rushing back—the one I hadn’t even known about until it was too late. The fear, the grief. My heart pounded in my chest as I struggled to find the words.

"What if I can't have a baby?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "What if the serum in me... what if it doesn’t survive?" My throat tightened as the words tumbled out, my voice shaking with uncertainty.

Steve reached over, gently holding my trembling hand. "But that was because of the procedure, not the serum," he said softly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a soothing motion.

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with doubt and fear. "We don’t know that, Steve. If that happens again..." My voice broke, tears welling up as I struggled to hold it together. "I don’t know if I can take it. Not again." A tear slid down my cheek, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future overwhelming me.

Steve moved closer, wrapping his arms around me, his embrace warm and protective. "I know you're scared," he whispered into my hair, his voice gentle. "But you're not alone in this. We’ll get through it—whatever happens. And I’ll be right here, every step of the way."

I pulled away slightly, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt. "But Steve," I whispered, my voice trembling, "I can’t even go to a doctor. And how are we supposed to raise a child while we’re on the run?"

His face softened, and he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. "We’ll figure it out," he said calmly. "We can find a discreet doctor. If not in this town, then maybe in the next one over. There’s always a way." I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace as a heavy sigh escaped my lips. "I'm so scared, Steve. I can't even feel happy, and I hate it," I admitted, my voice trembling as I clung to him.

He tightened his arms around me, his hand gently stroking my back. "I know," he whispered softly, pressing a tender kiss to the top of my head. "But we’re in this together. You’re not alone."

His words were a small comfort, but the fear still lingered, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

Later that evening, we sat Sam down to break the news. There wasn’t much point in hiding it from him—he had been the one to get me the test, after all. He smiled and congratulated us, but I could see the unease in his eyes. The reality of what this meant for our future hung over us all, even as we tried to focus on the joy of the moment.

The next day, Sam brought back a few more pregnancy tests, just to be sure. Each one came out positive. I couldn’t shake the constant nausea, barely able to keep food down, but strangely, it reassured me. As long as I felt sick, I told myself the baby was still there.

Steve doted on me in every possible way. He wouldn’t let me lift a finger, always asking if I was okay or if I needed anything. His attentiveness was endearing, even though it sometimes felt overwhelming. He had already started reading books on parenting, which was sweet, but I wasn’t ready to think that far ahead. The idea of motherhood seemed so distant, even with everything happening. I was still struggling to wrap my head around the present, let alone the future.

In my darkest moments, my mind would drift back to the child I lost, the baby who never had a chance at life. The grief would hit me like a wave, and I’d find myself crying uncontrollably, guilt and sorrow from years ago crashing down all over again. I thought of Bucky, of the love and pain intertwined with his memory, the feelings I had buried deep inside my heart. They were always there, hidden but never truly forgotten, and now they resurfaced with a vengeance, making everything feel even more complicated.

Sam had asked the doctor at the local clinic if he could bring his "wife" in for a pregnancy check-up. It was easier to pretend I was Sam's reclusive spouse who preferred staying in the cabin. People in town were already gossiping about the mysterious man who appeared once a week for supplies and then disappeared again. Introducing Steve into the equation would only add fuel to the fire and make things even more suspicious. So, we kept it simple, even if it meant living under yet another layer of secrecy.

The doctor prescribed me vitamins and scheduled another check-up in a month. We paid in cash, and he didn’t ask any questions beyond our names. We were now known in the clinic's records as Jane and Laurence, the newlywed couple.

Sleeping became increasingly difficult. Though I wasn’t far along, I found myself tossing and turning every night, struggling to find a comfortable position. I’d wake Steve with my restless movements, and each time, he’d pull me close, gently caressing my still-flat stomach. In the middle of the night, he’d make me tea or even cook entire meals, only for me to throw them up again. His patience and care were unwavering, even as my condition took its toll on both of us.

He would whisper sweet nothings into my ear and shower me with kisses, even managing to make me giggle amid all the turmoil. A tiny flicker of hope began to stir in my chest, like a flower daring to bloom after a harsh winter.

But nothing in this life was fair; no happiness seemed to last forever. All hope was shattered when Hydra burst through our bedroom door in the middle of the night, coming for me and my baby.

Next Chapter

[shalom-iamcominghome]

This isn't, like, the biggest deal, but I do find it funny when people are almost... surprised or shocked that converts unironically believe in judaism and also unironically align themselves with jewishness. It's just something I've seen a small handful of times and it's like... of course I (and others!) unironically believe in this stuff. I'm not putting in this work because I don't have enough going on in my life

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen? 

[torybrennan]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw