#yes and every day i wake up with a face full of rocks

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe and sweetheart!readers first kiss comes from reader but rafe deepens it. like she’s teaching him how to make frosting and he’s got some on the corner of his mouth and sweetheart!reader is like “uhm rafe… you have- nvm” and just stand on her tiptoes to kiss it off and he goes nuts sitting her on the counter to finally kiss her the way hes wanted to the whole time.

warnings: fluff, heated kissing, rafe hating his job lol

“make sure you leave the mixer in there long enough.” you were currently teaching rafe how to make your infamous buttercream frosting, and even though he was doing good, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his finger inside the bowl every five seconds.

“it’s gonna be gone before we could finish!” you laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “alright, alright.” he backed away, watching as you took over mixing for him. “i really appreciate you, you know..” you had spoken up, meeting his eyes.

“for what?” you stopped what you were doing, leaning against the counter to face him. “for everything. i don’t even have to ask you to do anything for me, you just do it.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, smiling softly. the action drew your attention to his lips, a smudge of frosting smeared on the corner.

you giggled, shaking your head as you pointed at his mouth. “what?” he started wiping his face, your giggles turning into full on laughter as he continued to miss the spot. “where is it?!” just as you were about to reach up, you noticed the frosting on your own fingers.

“just- um, okay..” you tippy toed, bringing your lips to barely brush over his before pulling away. rafe just about died when he saw you lick away the sweet mixture, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “did i overstep?” it was silent for a few moments before you found yourself being manhandled.

his lips were on yours in an instant, both of you melting into each other’s touch. you’d wanted this from him since the day he bought your entire basket of cookies at the country club. you moaned into the kiss as he picked you up, placing you on the counter.

nothing, not even the bowl of frosting next to you two, was sweeter than hearing those pretty sounds leave your lips. rafe wasted no time, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands dug into the skin of your waist. he had never wanted someone this bad.

you weren’t used to being kissed like this, your fingers trailing across his chest as he deepened it, his tongue finding yours. butterflies fluttered in your tummy when you heard rafe groan. “y/n..” he pulled away breathlessly, swallowing thickly at the sight of your already swollen lips.

“don’t stop.” you tugged on his shirt, a smug look forming on his face. as much as he wanted to keep going and flip up that skirt of yours, he pulled away, hard as a rock in his jeans. you noticed immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him in that very moment.

“i don’t want you to think i’m here just to have my way with you.” he cleared his throat, your shoulders falling in defeat when you heard the jingle of his truck keys. “i know that..” you trailed off, stepping closer to him. he took your lips again, this time placing his hand on the small of your back.

your eyes fluttered closed, your dainty palm resting in the curve of his neck. “please don’t leave.” you whispered, his erection pressing against your stomach. rafe pecked you one more time before his phone rang.

“hello? yeah, i-, i’m on the the way already.. yes, i know we have work early. alright. i’ll see you.”

“that was my dad. we have a job in the morning.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “when we take that step, i don’t want to be in a rush to get home or leave you before you wake up.” rafe held your face in his hands, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

you didn’t want that either. nodding at his words, you hugged him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “okay.” you hated every second of watching him walk to his truck. “we’ll pick up where we left off, ‘promise sweetheart.” you smiled, giving him a small wave as he drove away.

[baelarys]

i like aemond and his niece marriage live with they children they so adorable. but i wanna see the children spend day with grandparent like with alicent look like or with rhaenyra when they go to dragonstone. and perhaps do criston ( reader true father ) as grandpa in secret look like….

𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚

Aemond Targaryen x reader velaryon¡Niece!

Word count:1727

Warninig:fluff and more fluff

Pt2 pt1 pt4

Your heart was beating with an enthusiasm you could barely contain as you made your way to your mother's chambers. The news of her arrival, delivered by one of your ladies that morning, had been a ray of joy in your day. You decided to bring Laenor with you, as the other children were immersed in their usual activities.

As you reached the door to the chambers, the guards opened it wide. You entered with a mix of excitement and nervousness, searching for your mother around the room. You found her resting on one of the luxurious pieces of furniture, her figure elegantly serene.

"My sweet girl," Rhaenyra exclaimed upon seeing you, her eyes shining with a warm, maternal light. She extended her arms towards you, and your heart overflowed with nostalgia as you saw her familiar face, as radiant as ever.

"Mother," you said in a trembling voice, feeling how time faded in her presence. "Father," you added, addressing Daemon as well. The prince, with his usual roguish charm, greeted you with a smile full of affection.

"I’m so glad you’re here," you said, taking a seat beside her and wasting no time bringing Laenor closer to her arms so she could see him better.

Rhaenyra took the baby with great care, avoiding waking him, as her eyes scanned every detail of Laenor's face with a mix of wonder and joy. She rocked him gently, and you couldn’t help but feel immensely proud at that moment.

"He’s so beautiful," she murmured, her voice filled with sweetness as she stroked the fine, delicate hair of the baby with a trembling hand.

Daemon approached to observe the little one, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing it tenderly. "He looks like you," he commented with a sincere smile, which you mirrored on your face.

"Where are Jace and Luke?" you asked, looking for the children around the room. You only saw Joffrey, who was playing with his toys on the floor. You stood up and approached him with a smile.

"Where are Jace and Luke?" you asked, looking for the children around the room. You only saw Joffrey, who was playing with his toys on the floor. You stood up and approached him with a smile.

"Somewhere in the castle," your mother replied, her attention entirely focused on the baby.

"Joff," you called softly, crouching beside him. The dark-haired child turned at your presence, his eyes shining with excitement and surprise.

"Y/N!" he shouted with joy, throwing himself into your arms. You welcomed him in a warm embrace, letting out a small laugh as you held him close.

"Look how much you’ve grown," you said, running your hand through his thick, curly brown hair. "Has your dragon hatched yet?"

"Yes, yes, it has," he responded enthusiastically, extending his hands into the air to show you how big it would become. "And it will grow this big."

"I don’t doubt it," you said, smiling as you took his hand and stood up. "By the way, I have something to show you."

You guided Joffrey to where you had been sitting before, carefully bringing him closer to Laenor, who had now awakened. His violet eyes scanned the room with curiosity.

"This is your nephew, Laenor," you said, taking Joffrey's hand and gently guiding it to touch the baby's cheek. Laenor directed all his attention toward the boy in front of him. "What do you think?"

"Laenor," Joffrey repeated, seeming to reflect on the name. Suddenly, Laenor smiled and let out a few babbles towards Joffrey, bringing a smile to the older boy’s face. "Look, Mama! He’s smiling at me!" he exclaimed excitedly, looking at Rhaenyra with joy.

Rhaenyra, touched by the scene, watched her children with a tender expression. "So it seems," she commented, her voice filled with emotion.

They spent some time talking and enjoying their time together until Laenor began to show signs of hunger. You decided to leave to feed the baby, allowing your mother to rest after her long journey.

You walked down the hallways towards the nursery, the place where your children usually played. Just as you turned a corner, you saw Luke and Jace walking back to your mother’s chambers.

"Guys," you called with a smile, and they turned at the sound of your voice. Recognizing you, they quickly approached, with Luke being the first to embrace you immediately.

"Oh, look, Jace," Luke said, pointing to Laenor, whom you were holding in your arms. Without hesitation, Luke extended his arms and took the baby in his hands with a gesture of admiration.

"Where were you?" you asked as you took Jace by the arm and started walking towards the nursery. The two boys followed, with Luke completely absorbed in playing with Laenor.

"In the yard," Jace replied, running a hand lazily through his hair.

"What’s his name?" Luke asked, lifting the baby in the air. Laenor let out a series of giggles and small cries of joy, delighted by the game.

"His name is Laenor," you answered with a smile. Jace, upon hearing the name, looked at you with an expression of surprise and nostalgia. "Laenor," he repeated, his voice laden with an emotion that seemed to evoke memories.

They continued walking until they reached the nursery, where you found Aerion, Vaera, and Vaerys, already entertained with their usual games. They weren’t alone; Queen Alicent was there, smiling sweetly while playing with the twins, their golden hair shining in the light streaming through the window. Ser Criston Cole, standing nearby, was conversing softly with Aerion, offering a patient smile to the boy, who seemed to be listening intently.

Upon entering the nursery, you paused for a moment to observe Queen Alicent, who looked up from her game with the twins upon noticing your presence. Her face lit up with a friendly smile, but there was still that assessing look that always seemed present in her expression. You inclined your head in a respectful bow. "Your Majesty," you greeted courteously. Jace and Luke, following your example, also bowed, though you noticed the stiffness in their movements, clearly tense in the presence of the queen and her knight.

Alicent returned the greeting with a nod, though it was evident her eyes were now on the baby in Luke's arms. "Y/N," she began in a kindly tone, "I see the little ones are well accompanied today."

"Yes, Your Majesty," you replied with a faint smile. "I wanted my children to spend time with their uncles." Alicent nodded slowly, although a fleeting expression of discomfort crossed her face. It seemed she had noticed the tension in the air.

Ser Criston, ever observant, stepped forward with a slight bow, clearly more directed towards you than your brothers. "Princess," he greeted formally, before stepping back a little from Aerion, giving you the space you needed.

Alicent turned to Criston and nodded slightly, as if they had shared a silent understanding. "Perhaps we should let them enjoy a family moment," she suggested with a polite smile. "Aerion, Vaera, Vaerys," she called softly to the children, "I’m afraid I must go, but I hope you continue to enjoy your day."

The children nodded obediently, although Aerion seemed slightly disappointed that his conversation with Ser Criston had been interrupted. Alicent waved them off with a gentle gesture before turning and leaving the room, followed by Ser Criston, who gave you one last bow before following her.

With the departure of the queen and her knight, the atmosphere in the nursery immediately relaxed. The children looked at you expectantly, their eyes bright with curiosity as they observed the two boys accompanying you. You smiled, noting the impatience on their faces, and leaned down toward them, ready to make introductions.

"Children," you began, adopting a jovial tone, "I want to introduce you to my brothers. This is Jacaerys, but you can call him Jace," you indicated the older of the two boys, who flashed a friendly smile and nodded. "And this is Lucerys, but we call him Luke," you added, pointing to the younger one, who greeted them with a shy bow.

Aerion, always the most curious of your children, immediately stepped forward, his eyes shining with excitement. "Are you princes?" he asked with a mix of wonder and admiration, his voice full of interest. "Do you have dragons too?"

Luke smiled at the child’s direct question. "Yes, we are princes," he replied modestly, "and we do have dragons. My dragon’s name is Arrax."

Aerion's eyes widened even more, and he wasted no time in asking another question. "Is Arrax big? Does he fly fast? And what about Jace's dragon?"

Jace let out a small laugh at Aerion's enthusiasm, crouching down to be at his height. "My dragon’s name is Vermax," he replied with a warm smile, "and yes, he’s very fast, although not as big as some other dragons. But someday he’ll grow much larger."

While Aerion continued bombarding Luke and Jace with questions —"What’s it like to fly? Is it scary or fun? Have you ever fallen?"— the twins, Vaera and Vaerys, approached Jace with cautious steps. One of them, Vaerys, gently tugged on his sleeve, her big violet eyes filled with curiosity.

"Is your dragon very pretty?" she asked innocently, her voice sweet like a child’s melody.

Jace, moved by the girls' tenderness, crouched to their level and nodded. "Yes, Vermax is very pretty. He has scales of a deep green color and golden eyes that shine like the sun."

Vaera, the other twin, looked at Jace with growing fascination. "Will you teach us to fly on him someday?" she asked, her cheeks flushing with excitement.

Jace laughed softly. "Well, that might be a little complicated," he replied kindly, "but perhaps we can watch him fly from the ground. I promise you, it's an impressive sight."

The twins exchanged excited glances and squeezed each other, clearly delighted by the idea. Aerion, not stopping, continued firing off questions, while Jace and Luke answered with patience and occasional laughter.

Meanwhile, Laenor had been left to his own devices on the floor, and with the determination of a curious baby, he began to crawl across the ground. Slowly, he made his way toward you, his violet eyes fixed on your face. When he reached you, he grabbed onto your knees, trying to pull himself up with little murmurs of effort. You couldn't help but smile at his perseverance.

"Come on, little warrior!" you encouraged him softly, leaning down to help him get a better grip. Laenor wobbled for a moment, but with a proud smile, he managed to stand up, leaning on you for support. The children's laughter echoed again, contagious with the joy of the moment.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Third In Line

Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 10: Anal

Summary: Steven's a little frustrated at being third.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for betaing!

Warnings: kissing, swearing, a bit fo showing off, anal(afab! receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1123

It was petty really. Steven knew it was.

But he just couldn’t help himself, couldn’t let go of it, couldn’t stop the thought from burrowing in and festering. 

It would jump to the forefront of his mind every now and then, dancing disgustingly for his attention. He tried not to let it bother him. He really did. 

Because it was petty. Childish. Trivial. Insignificant. 

And still it caught on his mind like a constant hangnail. 

Marc had been the first to kiss you, taste you, feel the pleasure of your mouth. That was fine.

Jake had been the first to sleep with you, to wake up in the morning with you naked in his arms. That was fine too.

Steven had been the first to meet you. He tried to console himself with that, knew it was so stupid to even care about who did what first and when. Especially when you kissed him and held him and loved him just as much.

But still. It got under his skin. 

He had let it slip by accident. Mainly grumbling to himself as he moved some of Marc’s fantasy baseball notes out of his way. He had his own desk to leave his stuff on. And you’d heard, just caught the tail end. 

His face had burned with enough intensity when you’d questioned him that for a not so brief moment, he seriously considered just opening the lid of Gus’s tank and shoving his head in there. 

It would have certainly changed the direction of the conversation at least. 

Instead, however, he simply repeated his mumbles as quickly and quietly as he could while looking at his hands. It was silly. It was stupid. He shouldn’t be jealous. You’d think he was an idiot-

You smiled mischievously. “Well, there is something I haven’t done with either of them that we could do?” 

Steven’s gulp had been audible. 

And that’s how it had started.

You hadn’t done anal before. 

It had taken a little bit of forethought and planning, using toys even before Steven was able to get the smallest of his thick fingers inside of you. Working over a few weeks until he was satisfied that he wouldn’t hurt you. (You’d been more than willing for him to try in half the time.) 

But now that he was inside you, all his previous thoughts and worries had turned into liquid mush. 

You were face down, ass up on the bed, clutching one pillow to your chest while two others propped up your hips. 

Steven groaned, biting his teeth together to try to keep a hold on himself. “You okay, love?” His voice was strained, breaking at the end. 

You nod, wiggling a little as he bottoms out. “Yes.” 

He huffs through his nose as you move, a small whispered “fuck,” slipping passed his lips.

“Does it feel okay?” 

“It feels bloody marvellous, I,” he groans again, cutting himself off as he pulls out a fraction and then slides back in. “How does it feel for you?” 

“Full,” you moan softly as he moves. It’s a different sensation, heavy in the base of your spine. But his cock seems to push from the inside, rubbing against your vaginal wall and pressing your hips into the pillow. 

With every pull and push your clit draaags against the cotton, twisting the knot of pleasure tighter and tighter in your stomach. 

“But good.” You moan and Steven gulps. 

He keeps his hands on your hips, rocking gently, moving out slightly further with each thrust. 

He’d buried his face between your legs for what felt like hours beforehand, teasing and teasing until you were right on the edge and practically begging him, with tears in your eyes, to let you come. 

Not that he did. But you’d both agreed on that before you’d started.

Slick gushed from your core, mixing with the copious amounts of lube Steven had used. It trickled down and pooled onto the pillow below you. 

You moan, you’re so highly strung, so close to coming it is almost painful. 

“Steven, please.” 

He picks up his pace slightly. Not enough. “I don’t want to hurt you, love.” He tries to keep his voice even, calm, normal. But he’s so close to losing control and rutting into you like a wild animal. 

You arch your back, rocking to meet his thrusts a little harder.

“Fuck.” He swallows, his fingers digging into your skin. “You feel so, so good. I…” He bites his lip as you squeeze around him. “Tha-thank you for letting me.” His voice raises at the end, his eyes half closed as he starts to let his body overpower his mind. 

You moan, practically drowning in pleasure as he thrusts, still so carefully, but firmer this time. Your clit throbs as it rubs deliciously on the pillow, the sensations rupturing through you as pleasure assaults you from both sides. 

“I’m gonna,” you manage to sob, “Steven, you can let them see.”

He groans, leaning forward a fraction and having to brace one hand on the mattress as he bucks faster, nearing his peak. “Fuck, thank you, thank you,” he kisses your shoulder, nipping lightly at your neck. 

Swears fall out of your mouth, punched from your lips with every thrust. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, burning as liquid heat spreads higher and higher. 

Steven manages to pull at the back of his mind, hooking into their shared space just enough to raise Marc and Jake’s attention. 

‘What’s wrong?’ ‘You okay?’

It takes them a moment to catch up. 

‘Fuck.’ Jake’s voice echoes close to Steven’s ear as Marc groans.

“Steven,” You whine, your muscles tensing, rocking back onto his throbbing cock with all the strength you have. “Please!”

‘Fuck.’ ‘Shit.’

A small smile tugs at Steven’s lips, he lets them watch, lets them feel the ghost of sensation. And then your sharp cry overtakes any other thought, you squeeze around him, so tight he is blinded by it. 

Pleasure snaps through you, pulling you down and swallowing you whole. You come hard, moaning his name until your throat is hoarse and your release is soaking into the pillowcase. 

Steven groans, snaps his hips once before he follows and comes into the condom with a long drawn-out sigh. 

His muscles turn to jelly, and he eases himself out of you and then lays down by your side. 

Steven kisses your cheek, wrapping his arms around you as you nuzzle close and kiss him back.

‘You two can piss off now.’ 

‘Steven-’ ‘Fucking rude-’ ‘You’re a little shit, you know that?’ ‘Did this on purpose-’ ‘Showing off-’ ‘I want to-’ 

But then both politely fade back when you look up and stroke his face, smiling.

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[tiredmamaissy]

Behind the Façade

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: Ao’nung (20) x Fem Metkayina Reader y/n (20)

Warnings: NSFW, smut, rut cycle, no foreplay, mostly sub ao’nung, mostly dom reader, slight power struggle, creampie/breeding kink, knotting, smidge of fluff, spitting mouth (kinda), awkward moment during sex, profanity

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: As requested. Bestie, this is for you @jiafeimagic

Synopsis: Ao’nung unexpectedly goes into rut in the middle of the night. You calm your mate. Simple dimple. Enjoy

Intro:

You and Ao’nung have been mated since the sully family sought uturu in your village. He likes to put on a brave face – a façade that he’s this big, bad bully, when really he’s softer than the flesh between your legs. His rut is more like a heat, similar to what you experience monthly - lasting for 3 days. You allow him to keep up his façade in public, being his little bitch that follows his every order. But behind closed doors, he’s yours to do whatever you want with.

----

“Y/n.” Ao’nung pants.

“Hmm?” You croak, trying to open your eyes.

All you can see is the luminescence of your own skin. Feeling around with your hand, you find that the space next to you in the bed is empty. You sit up and rub your eyes, hoping to figure out where your mate’s voice is coming from.

“Y/n.” He repeats, this time in a more frantic manner.

“What is it? you ask, worried that something is wrong with him. “Where are you?”

You squint your eyes, and scan the marui pod, looking for your mate. Two heavy lidded, purple eyes float in the corner of your room, watching you intently. They're dazed and full of lust. A sinking sensation plagues your stomach when you realize what’s happening.

Ao’nung’s rut came early.

You squint your eyes, trying to make out the figure in front of you. He's sitting in the corner, with his knees to his chest and his head in his hands.

“Sorry to wake you.” He grits his teeth. “I just... I can’t take it anymore.” He huffs, dropping his head between his knees.

You get out of bed and approach him slowly. “It’s alright, I know how intense your ruts are, my love.” You hum, kneeling to his level to stroke the length of his queue. “You should have woken me earlier.”

He’s trembling, shaking his head from side to side in his knees and panting heavily – he must have been enduring this all night long. Leaning into your touch, he rubs his face into your bosom, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent. You shush him, rubbing circles into his back.

“Shh. Shh, baby boy. You’ll be alright, I’m here now.” You reassure him, laying his legs flat on the floor as you mount him.

His legs are now between your knees as you tower over him, shortening the distance between your hot bodies.

“I want this.” Ao’nung whines, cupping the soft flesh between your legs. “...please.” He whimpers, looking up at you through the dip of your breasts, with inebriated, glowing eyes - begging for some relief.

“How could I ever say no to these eyes?” You whisper, moving his hands to your waist.

Using a single finger to lift his chin, you kiss him fervently, swirling your tongue around his. You shuffle even closer to him, lowering your pelvis onto his crotch – sticky from his own slick. He’s already rock-hard, writhing his pelvis into the softness between your thighs. You share each other’s hot breaths between wet kisses as your hands explore every inch of your bodies.

He’s whimpering quietly into your mouth, succumbing to the urges of his rut, trying to fuck you through your loincloth. His movements are impatient – full of desperation and desire for his mate. Unable to form a coherent thought, he allows his body to speak to you, begging to be inside of you. His hands slide down to your hips, gripping it tightly, using it as leverage to grind even harder against you.

You move your sloppy kisses down his face, planting bruise-like marks on his jawline and neck. You linger there, filling your lungs with his potent pheromones, intoxicating your body with his scent. His pheromones remind you of the salty ocean, mixed with the scent of the sap of a mangrove. You know that you wouldn’t be able to satiate him if you weren’t high, too – his rut is just too intense for that.

“Tsheylu, Ao’nung.” You mumble into his neck, moving your hand to the base of his queue.

His movements are eager, tugging at your queue to bring it closer to his. It sends small shocks down your spine as he makes the bond eagerly. In an instant, the heat and fogginess of his rut transfers to you, putting you in a trance, too. Your hips pick up speed, whining and grinding against his member whilst he kisses your shoulders.

“...please, y/n.” He lets out a lengthy mewl, squeezing his eyes shut. “...f-fuck me.”

His eyes fly open, glossy and glowing in the dim light. You witness his pupils morph into slits. He’s now at the height of it, and if you didn’t give it to him soon – he would just take it for himself. This part of his rut always frightened you a bit, he would go from begging on his knees to forcefully-taking-what’s-his in a split second. You slip the thin cloth covering your breasts over your head, and fiddle with the knot of your loincloth with trembling fingers.

“Hurry. I need you now.” He grunts urgently, untying his own loincloth in a hurry.

“I’m trying, I’m trying” you pant, struggling with the knot due to the darkness of the room.

In frustration, Ao’nung rips your loincloth down the middle and throws it aside. He’s fighting with himself, trying his hardest to be gentle with you, but he just wants to shove his knot inside of you already. He’s rubbing his veiny cock against your sticky cunt, getting off from the feeling of your clit rolling against his tip.

“Stretching. Do you need it?” he mumbles, as his fingers burrow their way between your hips, frantically searching for your hole.

“No.” You yank his hand out by his wrist.

“What I need is...” you line up his tip with your slippery hole, “...this huge cock.” You moan loudly in his ear as you slowly slide his entire length inside of you.

He lets loose a lengthy, guttural groan, finally getting the attention his cock has been begging for. He softens under your touch, burying his face into your chest, hiding his expression from you as he hums into your breasts. Gripping him by the neck, you push him away, and stare at his erotic expression.

“I like seeing your face when I ride, understood?” You purr.

Your taken aback when you realize why he hid his face. You can feel his cock throbbing in your cunt, already emptying it’s seed inside you. He’s gritting his teeth, trying to bite back his lewd noises as he rocks into you, ensuring that your womb gets every drop of his sticky cum. The pure bliss – the ecstasy that he’s feeling from the gummy, hot walls that clench around his cock is unbearable.

“Are you cumming? Already?" You ask quickly, trying to hold back your laugh.

"All from me putting it in? Fucking pathetic.” You spit, watching his face contort from overstimulation as you start moving your hips.  

“Haah.. ah... Fuck.” He lets out choked pants, glaring at you through his slits. His cheeks redden even more, he's clearly embarrassed by his quick release. He buries his face back into your breasts.

“I’m sorry, you just feel so fucking good.” He huffs, pushing himself even deeper into you, ensuring his cum makes its way into your womb.

“Shit. Still going? Was that not enough for you?" You grab a fist full of hair at the back of his head and pull him from your chest, looking directly into his eyes.

"Fuck... trying to drill yourself into my womb like that.” You drop your gaze to your sticky pelvises.

“Such a pitiful sight...” You moan, looking back up into his drunk, pleading eyes. “Now, beg.” You whine your hips on him ever so slightly, massaging his cockhead with your cervix.

He clenches his jaw and swallows his spit. “Please.” He growls begrudgingly.

You start lifting your hips off him. “Oh? That didn’t sound very genuine. I see I am not needed anymore.”   

“Wait. Fuck. P-please y/n.” he grabs your hips, pulling them back down onto his cock. “Please... I need you. I can’t live without you. Please, I can’t take this anymore.” He sobs, looking up at you with watery eyes.  

A grin plasters your face as you start riding his cock, firmly gripping his throat for support.

“I love when you listen to me.” You grind onto his cock, already feeling a little bulge growing at the base of it. “Whoa... I can feel your knot already, Ao’nung.” You whisper, feeling your face heat up.

You glance at him to see that his eyes are closed – face contorted from how good your pussy feels around his cock. He really looks like he might cum inside of you again, all from just a few thrusts of your hips.  

“Woman, you feel too good.” He groans, dipping his head back.

“I know. I know, baby boy.” You moan, feeling his tip poking against your sweet spot. “You feel good too... I can feel you heating up inside of me. Gonna cum for me again?” You chuckle under your breath.

Ao’nung’s body is taking control, thrusting his hips upwards as they chase the warmth of the slick that coats the walls of your cunt. He’s whimpering from the overstimulation – but he can’t stop rutting into you. His sweet, little moans are becoming louder in your ears as he buries his face into your shoulder. You can feel his cock jumping inside you, ready to burst and fill you to the brim with his seed.

“Talk to me, Ao’nung. What do you want?” you breathe, picking up speed.

“Haa.. ah. I want... Ngh – I want to get you pregnant...” he whines, looking back up into your eyes. “Please... bear my child, y/n...” his head slumps forward, back into your chest. “Please...” his pleads are muffled from the plump flesh of your breasts. “...I’ll do anything”

“Good boy.” You moan, chasing your own climax now.

“Ugh... it is coming, y/n. L-let me cum inside of you... Please.” he whines loudly, manhandling your hips.

Through the bond, you can feel the heat pooling in his chest as he wills himself not to cum until you give him permission. Not only that, but you can feel his enormous, veiny knot poking at your entrance, begging to rip you into two. Knowing that this is only the beginning of his 3-day-long rut, you want to start slow – so not to tire yourself out.

“No knotting yet, my love.” You pant, trying to lift your hips off him. He drives his fingernails into your hips and shoves you back down onto his knot. “Fuck. Control yourself, Ao’nung.” You whimper, feeling it stretch you out.

“Please...my love.” he begs.

He’s pushing his cock even deeper into you, trying to break through the walls that prevent his knot from popping inside of you. He’s completely consumed by his urges to turn you into a vessel to carry the heir to Olo’eyktan – to carry his son. You see his thoughts, as he imagines you heavily pregnant with his child. Soon, you feel this urge too, wanting to be his little breeding bitch.

“Oh, fuck it.” You huff, going over the edge from the mere image flashing through your head. “Fill me up, Ao’nung. Give me your fat knot.”

He rams his knot into you in one quick thrust, forcefully holding you down onto his pelvis as he cums deep inside you yet again. His tip is drilling through your cervix, directly into your womb – spurting thick ropes of his hot seed inside of you. It sends you over the edge, finally allowing yourself to release your own orgasm, pulsing around his cock as your walls milk him dry.

You slump into your mate, who’s finally feeling some sort of relief. You look down into his face as the room is becoming brighter from the suns emergence, and see that his heavy lids are finally closing – covering his dark blue eyes. He rocks into you every so often, putting you into a state of comatose, too. You’re both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath and calm down from your high.

Only an hour passes until he’s tugging at your entrance, trying to pull his knot out of you – pinching himself and you in the process. This is what you didn’t want from the get-go, but it’s too late now and his rut has only just started. He’s nipping at your neck, tracing your jugular with his pointed fangs, silently asking to mark his mate. You too are deep in the thick of his pheromones, feeling woozy and jaded.

“Yes... do it, ma’ nung.” You hum, feeling the bite of his sharp teeth, piercing your skin as he marks you as his.

His urges take the forefront, as he thrusts in and out of you causing his partially deflated knot to pop in and out of you. This continues for the rest of the day, in the same position. You’re completely numb now, unsure of how many times he’s knotted you, as your abused hole is just dripping with his cum.

“Ao’nung...” you croak, trying to get off him for the fifth time. “I’m hungry... and thirsty.”

“Mmnn... come” he kisses you sloppily, spitting in your mouth as a poor attempt at quenching your thirst. “...better?” he moans, still deep in a trance.

“No... skxwang. I need real water.” you groan, pushing him off you and crawling away.

He pounces on you, knocking you on your stomach as he mounts you again. He slides himself inside of you and starts bucking his hips, desperate to breed you once more - despite the extreme overstimulation. Both of you were fucked out raw, but he couldn’t help it – he couldn’t stop himself. You lay there and take it, just grateful to finally be in a new position.

----

You open your eyes to see a bright room. The sun was out and shining vibrantly. The dead weight on top of you makes you winded, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You look behind you to see Ao’nung slumped over your shoulder, sleeping soundly. You groan from the soreness, reaching down to your pelvis to feel if he’s still inside of you.

The answer is simple – yes. He is. You feel a little more, to find that his knot has finally gone down enough to pull him out of you. You shove him off your back, and crawl towards the bucket of water in the corner of the pod – breaking tsaheylu.

Gulping loudly, you chug the water, quenching your extreme thirst at last. You pull away and finally take a deep breath, looking back at your mate. You're met with his delirious gaze. You sympathize with him, feeling awful that it took three full days of this to calm down.

“Oh, baby boy.” You mumble, shuffling back over to him with a cup of water. You stroke his hair – wet from sweat. “It’s over now.” You pull his limp body into your lap, supporting his head with your breast.

“Drink.” He laps up the water greedily, not realizing how thirsty he was until it wet his dry lips.

“Y/n. I love you. Only you truly see me.” He stares longingly at you, with his light blue, teary eyes.

“I love you, too ma’ nung.” You lean down to kiss his wet lips.

He pulls away from you, panting heavily. “No. I mean it. I will stay by your side for the rest of my life.”

You smile at him, feeling the warmth in your heart, and kiss him gently.  

----

After cleaning, feeding and watering one another you both walk out of your marui pod to be met with the bewildered eyes of no one other than Lo’ak, Neteyam and Roxto. Ao’nung slips back into his usual self, walking towards the na’vi with an aggressive demeanor. You follow closely behind him, with your eyes locked onto your feet. It was obvious that you two were loud enough for them to hear you.

“What is wrong with you freaks?” Ao’nung spits, puffing out his chest.

Lo’ak laughs, mocking Ao’nung. “Oooh, y/n. ‘only you truly see me’.”

“Lo’ak! Come on brother. I thought the ‘I will stay by your side for the rest of -” Neteyam taunts, being cut off by Ao’nung shoving him in the chest. Roxto tries to keep his smile to himself, finding the whole ordeal amusing.

“Agh.” Ao’nung spit, rolling his eyes before turning around and walking away.

Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @bl-lover-yaoi @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @itssiaaax @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @jakesullysbabygirl @rinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @boooogieman @jiafeimagic @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump

[krisdreaming]

Daydreams

The things they daydream about | Timeskip!Captains version

A/N: Um, hi, hello. Yes, I've been gone for quite a while! I'll make a post later with more details 😅 For now, enjoy this lil thing I couldn't get out of my brain. Do the boys really daydream as much as I do? Almost certainly not, but LET ME HAVE THIS.

KUROO envisions you sharing this space with him. He sees your toothbrush next to his and the indentation of you left in the bed next to him. Your laughter echoes through the quiet rooms and while he eats dinner, you're telling him about your day. You send him out the door each morning with a kiss, and your things slowly collect on every surface. His apartment never felt empty before, but lately it seems to be missing something.

BOKUTO thinks forever might look something like this: your smile, backlit by the sun, as you turn and hold your hand out to him. He takes it and instantly weaves his fingers with yours. The setting is hazy, but you're at the center of it, and that's all that matters. Another in a long string of adventures with you, even if that adventure is nothing more than a trip to the grocery store, is all he could ever ask for.

KITA sees a quiet evening. The sun is setting in a late summer sky, and he balances two cups of tea as he steps out onto the porch. You're already there, settled into your rocking chair with your eyes closed, soaking in the last rays of the sun. It plays golden across your face, and he can't help but pause for a few moments to admire the scene before him. When he finally moves to hand you a mug, your eyes open, and a smile breaks across your face that's only for him. He presses a kiss to your lips and basks in the contentment of the moment. This is the culmination of everything he's been working towards.

DAICHI always tends to picture you with a melody on your lips. It's an adorable habit of yours, that he often catches you humming softly to yourself as you go about your day, and it carries over into his daydreams. He's coming home after a long day, and there you are, standing at the kitchen counter and humming to yourself as you chop vegetables for dinner. The sound dies on your lips when his arms go around you, and turns into a soft smile as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Welcome home," you murmur, and he can't help but smile back. He wants to come home to this every day for the rest of his life.

OIKAWA just wants your face to be the first thing he sees every morning. He'll wake you up in a thousand different ways, with kisses or gentle murmurs or his fingers finding the soft skin beneath the hem of your shirt. When your eyes open, a soft smile breaks across your face, and you snuggle against him for just a few moments longer. Soon enough, you'll both have to get up and face the world, but until then it's enough to simply exist in this moment.

USHIJIMA hears three little words. "Let's go home," you're murmuring against his chest as he holds you close in the airport. He's been away again, but you're always here to welcome him back. Home is the apartment he shares with you, full of countless pieces of your life together, and most importantly, you. Stepping inside the familiar walls feels like a weight is falling from his shoulders. Sharing a meal with you and holding you close in your bed afterwards fills him to the brim with a warmth he never wants to lose.

[frogzxch]

Trueform!Sukuna x Servantgoddess!Reader

Summery:

Reader is basically in a servants body which is like her vessel in this era and she was secretly a goddess from another uni but unexpectedly she died in her world and got rebirth when the servant touch a red spider lily

Slight smut, fluff, death, didnt fully proof read huhu

Word count? I dont know

As always the two face man again killed a servant for a small mistake and you have to clean the body after it was getting annoying for you as you wish to go back to your home your own world but sadly you died as you already prepared the tools you will use for cleaning the body one of the concubine entered the throne room scared such a beautiful girl pure and innocent on the outside but yet naive and stupid in the inside the king of curses doted her alot Sukuna has favorite concubine and less favorite one

" There's my good girl come here... " Sukuna spoke on a soothing and velvety voice

The girl immediately go to him on his throne as he tap his lap the concubine sat on his lap obediently you already know what will come next the king will just fuck the life out of her on his throne again you can hear loud moans from the girl as Sukuna fucks her hard in her wet cunt the girl was blank on her mind as she is full of Sukuna large cocks it was discusting for you as you were done you silently go out of the throne room and in a insan you open the bag of the body and puke

" eww....god give me back my life jesus I can't take it anymore "

After disposing the body you proceed to go back and just do what servant usually do that is serving and helping and sleep and wake up early the cycle goes on and on your lucky enough to be alive. As days turns week and weeks turns into months you were desperate to go home and try to find a way every night you would cry silently in the room figuring out how to go back to your own world in peace...

" you servant girl I need you to pick up some fine kimono in the market hurry! "

Ahh the concubine who the king of curses loves only for pleasure her name was Yuri Ryomen she was getting on your nerves to as well sometimes you just wish your powers and immortality will be back so you can just kill this mf in peace bu sadly god punish you I guess as Yuri throws the golden coins at you, you just pick it up and bow then go out of the temple and head your way to the nearby village and go to a store after buying you notice Yuri was running at you in a scared expression she push you forward then you see a curse....a large one you look at her

" m-my lady please stay back "

In a instant she throws on a tantrum and scream like a child throwing a rock at the curse it was big and scary looking with four red glowing eyes looking like a shadow with smoke sharp teeths ready to bite it's prey but in the moment it seems familiar to you it was like your companion in your world with no hesitation you rush to the curse Yuri was in full shock but ran away as soon you go closer to it she left you but no worries to you once you touch the curse it recognize you and it communicates to you

" Y-Yn....I can't believe it it's you my lady! " it's voice echo's through your ears no one can hear it speak other than it's owner you smirk and felt much more confident

" My lovely companion such a lucky day to be with you again, I hope you don't miss me to much hm? " You pat it and it goes through your skin it was going in your body that you stole, you two became one it's like venom hihi you giggled and look around then just go back to the temple like nothing had happend.

Next day you haven't heard anything about Yuri it's like she disappeared from the world without a word as you serve the food to your master the king himself he quite senses something in you, you can sense his eye looking at you piercing deep in your soul " you.. " your heart start to beat so fast you raise your head " yes master? " Sukuna was still looking straight at you coldly " Come closer.. " you nodded and go closer to him as he stands up on his throne and goes to you he was 7th tall and damn the size difference " what is it my lord? " He brush the strands bothering your hair suddenly he leans closer he can see something deep in your eyes " You can't hide yourself from me my little flower " in a instant you froze and look at him " w-what... " he let out a deep chuckle " don't play dumb y/n....why do you keep hiding? First you got killed now your locking yourself up in this servant body? " he lifted you up with his upper set of arms and you hold onto his shoulder as his upper right arm cuped your small fragile face as the other upper arm kiss your left hand you we're totally confused yet felt strange " what are you doing...im confuse.. " you look at him with a confuse expression " dear....I will make you remember.... " and after cupping your face he gesture his right upper hand to your forehead and your true identity once again reveal your hair color changed and also your eyes and face to your goddess form....

At the end you live with him trying to process what happend....

Sooo yeeehhh plot twist the goddess yn was actually kuna late dead wife and kuna decided to look for a concubine and there is yuri, well Yuri basically got killed by him because in that curse scene he was there watching all along it was a test and when he found out abt you he instantly didn't hesitate to have you back to become his wife once again his queen his one and only love

[hero-hoe]

For the #1 Captain MacTavish enthusiast @brewed-pangolin after talking about that bubble butt 🥵🥵 I had a brain worm

MDNI 18+ ONLY. Vague smut, marriage kink, body and chest hair worship. PiV. Fem!Reader.

Captain John MacTavish who knows exactly what his body looks like, heavy muscles with a healthy layer of fat and even warmer layer of hair all over his body. The man is damn near furry, and he knows exactly how it makes you feel. You, the bonnie lass he met after retirement who he immediately had to wife up.

You, the sweet little thing he loves waking up to long after sunrise on lazy Sunday mornings Cuddled together in bed with you wearing his shirt, your soft thighs thrown over his thick ones, knees cradling his defined waist. One hand behind his head, tucked up under the pillow for extra comfort while the other guides your rocking hips. Letting your delicate hands grope at his chest, knowing you love his "hairy tits" as you once called them.

"That's it, hen. Doin' so good fer me." He groaned, eyes half lidded yet so full of love as he watched you grind yourself on his shaft so lazily. You'd both been at it all morning, the dark brown hair of his thighs now slicked to his skin with your juices. He loved seeing himself covered in you nearly as much as you loved toying with his hair.

Your deft fingers were carded under the loosely curled hairs on his chest, groping at his pecs for balance with every motion, tugging on the pelt of your warrior.

"Atta girl. Can feel ye gettin' close again." The hand comes out from behind his head, moving to cradle yours instead and push your face into his chest. A low moan left his throat when your teeth bit into his flesh, just hard enough to leave an indentation on the side of his breast. "C'mon, lass, be jus' let go fer me." He insists, moaning as you tug the hair on his chest once again in desperation. "Shh, ah ken is a lot, hen, but ma wife can take it, yeh? Ma perfect girl can give me one more."

He finished after you did, a few lazy bucks of his hips into your wet warmth while you bit and drooled into his chest, making a mess of the hair you had so neatly finger combed earlier that morning. He kept you on his lap once you were both done, reaching onto the nightstand for the water bottle you had left on his nightstand and encouraging you to drink.

A scarred hand smoothed down his frazzled chest hair once you were both adequately hydrated, letting out a disapproving tut. "Look at the mess ye made, love. Ma gorgeous wife had me all groomed and ready, and ye fuffed it up. How about ye fix that, hmm?" He teased, knowing just how much you loved getting his hair in order. Be that his mohawk, now musch longer than it was in his service days, or the hair adorning every inch of his powerful body.

Your fingers worked with expert care, straightening out the tangles you had made, arranging the hair of his chest to point inward and downwards towards his stomach. You smoothed out what you could of his comfort-softened tummy, but his grip on your waist wouldn't let you go far enough to reach below his navel.

"Much better, love. Ah'm lucky to have such a caring wife, no?"

[sigmathesillyenigma]

asher x reader , david x reader highschool sweethearts headcanons :3

afab reader

david shaw who comes to "pick you up" from every class, even if it was on the way to another one. no matter how fast you try to be, he's always faster, never failing to take his place leaned up against your locker, arms crossed as he watches you get held behind and scolded by your teacher. was it so hard to just turn your damn work? apparently for you, it was.

"alright, let's go. if you keep getting held behind after your classes i'm gonna start being late to mine. at least try to stay in school, dumbass."

asher talbot who before he started dating you, kept next to nothing in his bag. all he needed was his phone, a banana from two months ago, and a couple books from that day's classes. when you two got together, his bag was suddenly full of all your things. period stuff, painkillers, chapstick, jewellry, shorts for p.e because you keep forgetting to put them in your bag, basically everything. asher didn't mind it one bit. it made him feel important, like by carrying your stuff it made up for his all dickheadery during your classes together (it did not).

"hmm?- do i still have your gum? noo, nope, all gone. yes, i'm telling the truth- okay fine. yes, you have ONE piece of gum left butit'sthestrawberryflavorandyouknowthatsmyfavoriteandagoodpartnerwouldletmehaveitbecauseyoureagoodpartnerandyoulovemeandandand- thank you babe :3"

david shaw who after an argument with you, wakes you up at 11pm to soft knocking at your window. he has a key to your front door, but he wasn't planning on staying long anyway. you force yourself out of bed to let him in, but don't dare to look at him as he pulls himself up into your room. for a while, you two just stand there, letting the night pass before he breaks the silence.

"uh.. about before. i uhm .. didn't meant to say that. it'd just been a long day i guess and i kind of. blew up on you. i'm sorry. really, i am. i hate seeing you get sad and .. shit. uh- i'll go. it's late, and you probably- hm? you.. want me to stay? uhh, yeah, yeah sure. i can do that. let's .. go sit."

asher talbot who lets you do his makeup. he doesn't have that visceral shame a lot of people your age seem to share, which is both a blessing and a curse. tonight though, as you jab little rhinestones onto his pink eyelid with the precison of a preschooler, it's definitely a blessing.

"oh babe, look. at. me. i am stunning- what? what are you doing? taking a- no, nononononononoo babe. please. milo will never let me live this down. if you send that to him i swear to god he'll rock up to school tomorrow with my face on a shirt. babe? where are you going? BAABE!!"

-

@definetelynuwonhere @skunkox @huxleaf

[ashwhowrites]

Rockstar! Eddie Munson x Reader, so what if he met reader at some concert and they ended up hooking up, then Reader got pregnant and she told Eddie (like idk, maybe she saw him somewhere, or he gave her his number?) so he was scared at first but then he tried to help her in everything she needed, after some months they started dating, and then they had a girl, and Eddie was like full on dad mode? (I imagine like Eddie being scared about it, bc he liked Reader but they kind of "hate" each other, but it's bc they don't know each other very well, and also I imagine him talking with Wayne, and Wayne being like don't be scared, you're gonna be a great dad, or something like that?) Idk if this made sense, but I hope it does!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Eddie couldn't help but let the tears run down his face when Y/N handed over their baby girl. Y/N was exhausted, sweat in her hair but Eddie thought she looked as beautiful as the day he met her. She closed her eyes for much-needed rest, leaving Eddie alone with his thoughts and a tiny baby in his arms.

He rocked the baby gently, remembering all the mini-lessons Wayne gave him throughout Y/N's pregnancy. He prepared for this day for the last 9 months, yet he felt like he was in over his head. But he focused on the way his heart exploded with so much love for the two girls in front of him. The very two girls who changed his life for the better and showed him what falling in love was like.

As Eddie listened to the little cries of his daughter, he couldn't help but reflect on everything that got him to this exact spot.

~~~

The adrenaline ran through his veins as he raced off the stage, his shirt glued to his chest with sweat, and the screams echoing in his ears.

Eddie headed straight to the nearest bar and drank until he barely remembered a thing. Some sweet voice in his ear, a soft pair of lips on his, and hands removing his clothes. It was all a blur, he woke up alone but the taste of her was on his tongue.

He went to sleep every night trying to rack his brain to remember her, even a tiny glimpse. He swore he felt her touch still and her scent lingered on the shirt he wore that night.

But Eddie was used to one-night stands so he figured she'd be another figure he fell asleep with but wouldn't wake up to see again.

And boy was he wrong.

~

He felt like he was going to throw up. A beautiful girl, who he learned was Y/N, sat across from him with a sick expression. A number called and called him over and over, it was driving him insane so he finally picked up. He did not expect a girl on the other line to say she was pregnant with his baby.

Sadly, he had to take precautions with his level of fame. He knew getting blacked out drunk with random women was a dangerous game, he just thought he was smart enough to not have consequences.

"How...we sure...proof it's mine?" Eddie squeaked out. The confident man, who held all the charisma in his smirk, was not across from her. The big rockstar who loved the spotlight seemed frozen and scared. His eyes didn't know where to look, so he looked everywhere. His fingers were pressing into his palm, and she guessed he would leave marks on his nails.

"Yes, I know it's yours. And look I know you have this whole touring the world and being a rockstar. I've been a fan of you for years so I know this is a dream you waited forever for, and since we aren't in a relationship and it was a one-night stand, it's your choice if you want to be involved or not. You have my number, use it if you want." She said, she slid over a small ultrasound picture and left the small diner.

Eddie's eyes locked on the photo and he couldn't breathe. The tiny blob made his heart race with anxiety and his stomach twisted in so many knots. If he was terrified of the tiny thing in that picture, he couldn't imagine having a whole baby.

He was torn. In so many ways it would be easier to act like it didn't happen. To continue the tour and never think about it again. She allowed him to run, but yet he didn't want to run away from her. She haunted his memory and he tried for months to figure out who that girl was that he remembered feeling. And now that he saw her, he wanted to see her face again and again.

He found himself trusting her. Not doubting her an inch. His manager told him to demand a DNA test of some sort before Eddie "ruined" his career, but her eyes were honest. He felt like he already knew her and knew she'd always be true to him. She wanted him to have his dream still, but it wasn't fair to pick a dream with a time limit over a child's life....his child's life.

~

Whenever Eddie was stuck in life, he flew to Hawkins and knocked on that tiny trailer. No matter how many times Eddie begged Wayne to let him pay for a big home, Wayne refused. He loved his life in his small trailer.

Eddie told Wayne everything, embarrassed as Wayne gave him that disapproving look when Eddie told him about all the one-night stands.

"And now she's pregnant. It's up to me to be involved or not. " Eddie said, biting his nails as he watched Wayne for an answer.

"And?" Wayne asked, his arms crossed as he eyed the nervous boy.

"And what?"

"What are you telling me for? Don't you tell me that you want me to tell you what to do, boy?" Wayne said, Eddie has been scolded by Wayne many times in his life, and somehow this felt scarier.

Eddie gulped but nodded his head in defeat. "I don't know what to do. I have no idea how to be a dad. I don't know how to take care of myself. I'm irresponsible and don't even have a solid place to live since I planned to be on the road. I don't have anything good to offer her or this child."

"Get over here," Wayne grunted, he uncrossed his arms.

"Are you going to hit me?" Eddie asked, slowly moving towards him.

"No." With the green light, Eddie walked over, he opened his arms thinking Wayne was going to offer a comforting hug. But instead, he got a smack to the back of his head.

"YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T GOING TO HIT!" Eddie yelled, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head.

"Of course, I'm gonna knock some sense into you, kid! You don't know how to be a dad because you don't have the experience. No one knows how to be a parent until they learn. They have classes and books, and I'll help you. I wasn't a dad until you came along, and I'm proud of who you became. I started with no idea what to do but I made it work. You are going to do the same. Unlike you, she doesn't get the option to run away. And you are not letting her do this alone. Understood?" Wayne demanded.

"Understood."

~~~

Y/N was very shocked when Eddie called and asked to talk. She figured he'd take the opportunity to run and never looked back.

But as her stomach grew, so did her feelings for Eddie. He was the sweetest boy she ever met. He was terrified, but he held it together for her. Whenever she read another birthing book and felt like she was going to panic, he was right there.

When she hit around 5 months, she confessed her complicated feelings towards Eddie. To her surprise, he felt the same. All that time planning for their baby brought them closer together and they understood they'd have a connection to each other that they wouldn't experience with someone else.

Their first kiss, not drunk, was something they both would remember. It wasn't at a huge romantic place with candles everywhere. It was in their own home, in the nursery as Eddie put together the little crib. They were so overwhelmed with the emotion of having a family together and Eddie couldn't wait. He desired to kiss her since the diner and he felt fireworks in his stomach when he first placed his lips on hers.

After a few months passed and she was weeks away from giving birth, Eddie ended his tour early. He made sure he never left her side. Even though their relationship was freshly new, he moved in with her. He wanted to be there all the time for her and their baby. He knew he was in love with her, and he didn't plan to let her go anyway. So why wait?

Wayne was proud, and damn excited to be a grandpa. He turned Eddie's old room into a nursery and begged to babysit whenever it was needed. Wayne fell in love with Y/N within seconds of meeting her. He understood why Eddie was so sure about her.

Eddie read all the books and did all the classes, which meant he might have been too involved.

"Can you sit fine? I can help you." Eddie said through the bathroom door. A loud sigh left Y/N's lips.

"Edward, I told you for the last three hours that I can pee by myself!"

~

"Book says you shouldn't be on your feet this long. Why don't you sit." Eddie said as he quickly through the groceries into the cart.

"Sit where? It's a grocery store." Y/N laughed, having no issues walking through the store.

"Here," Eddie said as he took off his jacket and placed it on the dirty floor.

"Eddie, ew! And I'm not sitting on the floor. There's no way I'll get back up."

~

"Did you cook with the safe foods? Do you have the list of things she can't eat?" Eddie asked as Wayne brought over three plates.

"Edward" both Wayne and Y/N groaned

~

"Lady! You need to move faster. You are holding up the line!" A man groaned as Y/N tried to keep her composure.

"There's a line in front of me! I can't go anywhere, asshole!"

"I hope your bastard of a child doesn't get that kind of lip." The man laughed like his joke was funny. She could feel Eddie tensing as he joined the line next to her. He arrived at the wrong time...or the right time?

Before she could react, Eddie came swinging. His right knuckle cracked against the man's nose. The man dropped to the floor in a groan.

"Don't talk to her like that and don't ever speak about my child like that," Eddie growled.

~

And when it came the day her water broke, he felt more prepared than ever. He held her hand and tried not to flinch as she squeezed it until she cracked his bones. He drove as fast and safely as he could to the hospital. His brain couldn't wrap around the thought that his daughter was hours from being born.

This was finally it

He was going to be a dad

~~

"And now I'm your dad and I'm going to love you more than anything in this world. Your mom is amazing and I can't wait to watch you grow up to be just like her." Eddie whispered, the baby falling asleep to his story as he continued to rock her.

He looked up to see Y/N fast asleep, and he couldn't help but feel a strong amount of love for the two sleeping beauties that were now always going to be part of his life.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

[pekoehoneyncream]

Captain John 'Bravo Six' Price Headcanons

Part One!

Words: 500~

TW: None (sfw)

Part Two

Okay! Here are the promised headcanons!

The brainrot is intense for these boys rn, so the volume of headcanons kinda got outta hand. I didn't wanna slam y'all with the full 800+ words of headcanons that I've made for Price alone, so I decided that I'll post half now and half later.

That said, Thank you all again for the Huge response my poll got, and without further ado onto the The Headcanons!

His preferred drink is Green Tea with a spoonful of honey. He loves getting to sit, relax, and slowly sip his way through a nice hot cup of tea. If he’s in a rush or just needs to wake up he drinks coffee instead.

Takes his coffee with the smallest bit of sugar and no milk. His team argues that three grains of sugar can't make any difference, but Price insists that he doesn't like coffee straight black, he needs that bit of sweetness. The team once tested him by switching out his coffee for an identical cup of straight black coffee. Price's disgusted spluttering showed them that he can indeed easily taste the difference.

Cannot just sit down and do nothing. Always needs to be doing something. This man is a category five putterer. Just goes about absently neatening up, putting things back where they belong, pulling books forward to be level with the edge of the shelf, squaring papers with the corner of the table, wiping down the surfaces, adjusting his kit so it’s settled properly. He’ll do the same to the team as well. Mindlessly untwisting straps, pulling tight buckles, zipping pouches, pulling down the rucked-up hem of Ghost’s mask, straightening Gaz’s cap, correcting a stray hair in Soap’s warhawk.

The absolute worst at remembering names, constantly asking the team what this or that person's name is. Has a little notebook full of reminders that are only useful to him, the privates and FNGs think he's marking down performance notes, but he's just desperately trying to remember that one rookie's name before they leave eyesight. “Price, this just says ‘Michaels - Red Hat’, do you expect him to always wear a red hat?” “No, but I remember the hat, then I remember the face that was wearing the hat, and that face is Michaels'.” “Price, that makes no sense.” “Give that back and get. Have you nothing better to do? Go on, get!”

Paints his nails. He got a voucher for a free spa day as a birthday present one year, it included hot-rock therapy, mud-baths, a massage, and a mani-pedi. He went into it with a ‘fuck it, when in rome’ mentality and just said yes to everything while he was there. They explained that gel-polish is hardier and longer lasting than regular polish, without being super hard to remove like acrylics, so he went with gel-polish. At the time he just got a clear polish, but these days he does it himself and wears whatever colours he wants to. Has his own polishes and his own little uv lamp and everything. He could die on a mission tomorrow, he doesn't have time for your small minded ideas about masculinity. Before he was Captain of the 141, he actually got written up by a superior, not for wearing polish, but for wearing a nail-polish colour that wasn't a colour that's in regulation.

Loves water. Yes in the staying hydrated sense, but mainly in the swimming sense. He grew up with a creek behind his house and he spent every spare moment he could splashing around in it. To this day his favourite place is the beach, or anywhere with a body of water. A swimming pool is a poor replacement in his opinion, but he'll take what he can get.

Constantly loses track of time in the shower, his personal water bill is consistently exorbitant. When he doesn't have time to spare he sets a timer, when it beeps at 5 minutes it reminds him he needs to actually start washing up, and when it goes off at 10 minutes he forces himself to get out. When he has the time he sets the timer for 30 minutes.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you have any thoughts on the headcanons or ideas you'd like me expand on or things you wanna squeal about or prompts you want me to write PLEASE hit me up! My ask box is open 24/7 and I'd love to hear from you!

PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist

[wrightingdungeon]

Love Letters

Elliott SDV Oneshot

Sitting in his usual seat at the Saloon, Elliott smiled as he watched over the usual patrons going about their conversations and games of pool. He was glad he had moved to this small, sleepy town. It had woken up recently, the people coming alive again with the swell of new energy. It was all thanks to the new Farmer. They had moved in a while ago, and nobody had expected them to pull so much of the town's weight after their grandfather's passing. But they had, and everyone was so grateful for them. Fixing the community center and kicking the corporate leeches of Joja out. The new movie theater brings in new faces now and again, boosting the community even more.

“Hey, good evening, Farmer!” He heard Gus call, waking him up from his people-watching thoughts. Looking over, he smiled, seeing the Farmer walk in and put up their hat on the rack. “Evening, Gus. How's today going?” Elliott smiled, listening to Gus and the Farmer talk about their days. He couldn't help but find them interesting, how they pushed through every day with the same confidence and strength. They had become the rock of the community. If you needed something, they would have it. If you needed someone to listen, their door was always open. The Farmer was someone to be inspired by, and inspired Elliott was.

Seeing the Farmer looking around for a spot to sit, he mindlessly raised his hand a bit and waved to them. The slight crinkle of their eyes and nose, the way they smiled at him as they noticed his invitation, made his heart rate rise. “Hello, Elliott, how's the book coming along?” The Farmer asked as they sat down, their mug of beer clinking softly on the tabletop as they settled into their seat. “It's proceeding as fluidly as setting kindling ablaze with oil,” he sighed into his wine glass, closing his eyes slightly. “That just means it's blazing with glory, right?” He chuckled with them, finding it amusing that they could always find the glass half full when others saw it half empty. “That is one way of looking at it, yes,” Elliott said with a smile, pushing some stray hairs out of his face.

"Why don't you tell me more about the plot? You know I love a good romance," the Farmer encouraged, leaning forward with genuine interest. Elliott's eyes sparkled with a mix of enthusiasm and nervousness. "Well, it's set in a small coastal town, much like ours. The protagonist, a young woman named Elara, inherits an old bookstore from her late grandmother. As she restores it, she discovers a series of love letters hidden within the pages of an old book.” He was embarrassed to admit he might have used the Farmer's tale to help shape his in a way, but their story was one for the ages in his mind.

"Love letters?" The Farmer interjected, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Yes, love letters," Elliott nodded, his excitement growing. "Each letter tells a piece of a love story that spanned decades, full of longing, separation, and serendipitous reunions.” The Farmer smiled, nodding at his explanation. "Well, I guess you would be good at sending love letters; you do have a way with words.” He couldn't help the blush that tickled his cheeks. “Oh no, I haven't sent any; I've practiced for the book though,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

“Ooooh, who are you writing to? An ex? Someone you know?” A small gasp and smirk formed on the Farmer's lips. “Is it someone I know?” They asked, looking like the curious cat before they got caught, but he was the mouse staring down the cat about to get caught. How could he tactfully say he had a small stack now of written love letters, written out to them? Lengthy poems expressing his yearning, letters categorizing all his desires, heartfelt love letters written with deep emotion, all made for them. “You could say you know them,” he danced around the question, his eyes looking to the side as he hid behind his wine glass. “Come on, Elliott, you did ask for help with the book genre. I could help hook you up with them.” His heart and chest squeezed tight at the Farmer's offering to help set him up with his love letter recipient, not knowing it was themselves meant to receive the letters.

"Ah, well, you see, it's all for artistic purposes. I wanted to capture the essence of genuine affection and longing in written form. It's all purely artistic, I assure you," Elliott stammered as he took a sip of his wine, hoping his explanation would suffice, all the while grappling with the realization that his feelings were intricately woven into every word penned.

“Uhu huh… And I just arrived in Pelican Town today,” Elliotte couldn't help but smile at their sarcastic comeback. “Elliott, if you like someone, you should let them know. You are a great guy.” Their sincere tone and soft smile threatened to drive him mad. They were right. They deserved to know, and who knows, it could help the flow return to his writing.

“Well, Farmer… It's you…” Elliott said, looking at his reflection in his near-empty stemware, his eyes slowly raising to look at the Farmer. Their red cheeks and slightly widened eyes made him slink back a bit, scared he had been too bold, stepping over a line not meant to be crossed.

“Me… And you've never sent them? Elliott…” The Farmer's voice was almost a whisper, but the growing smile on their lips showed their excitement. “I… I didn't know how you would feel,” Elliott said softly, his own smile forming on his face, his fears calming down. “Well, I want to see them. Come on, show me.” Elliott watched as the Farmer downed their drink and held out their hand. Taking a moment to understand the request, Elliott gladly took the Farmer's hand, leading them to the beach. “What kind of letters are they? The sappy ones?” Elliott couldn't help but see the coy cat smirk crawling back on their face as they looked up at him. “Naughty ones?” His face turned red as he laughed, shaking his head. “I'll let you read them, find out for yourself, how about that,” he said, teasing them back, his turn to smirk at the Farmer's blushing face.

As they walked along the sandy shore, the cool ocean breeze tousled their hair, adding an extra layer of intimacy to their exchange. Elliott couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for the Farmer beside him, their laughter echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. The Farmer squeezed his hand gently, a silent reassurance that washed away any lingering doubts Elliott might have had. With each step, the weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a growing anticipation.

Unlocking the door of his home with a sense of excitement, Elliott led the Farmer into his cozy abode. Reaching under his bed, he pulled out a bundle of letters tied with a ribbon. Sitting beside the Farmer, he carefully untied the bundle, revealing a collection of handwritten notes neatly folded within. "These are… special to me," Elliott confessed, his voice tinged with vulnerability as he handed the letters to the Farmer. "They're a reflection of my feelings… for you."

The Farmer's eyes softened as they took the letters into their hands, their gaze shifting between the pages and Elliott's earnest expression. With a gentle smile, they began to read, each word resonating deeply within their heart.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, Elliott and the Farmer sat together in a comfortable silence, surrounded by the echoes of their shared laughter and the promise of new beginnings.

[dairy-farmer]

Did you know~? Dreams are how the mind subconsciously processes information and our emotions ABOUT the information for us while we are asleep?

:Dc

Gotham Sure Does Have Cults! Don't it? Bet some of them get the bright idea to Capture God(tm). Which ALWAYS ends well, and TOTALLY doesn't lend to them fighting back! Getting the attention of Local Bats!

What with the Lethal, Diving People Too Insanity Nightmares going around.

They're gonna go out on a limb and guess Dream God. Sleep Deity, perhaps. The track the Cult down. Burst in and kick ass. As a Family~

And? The God can admit... they were kinda losing. Humans cheat and these fuckers were VERY prepared. They were gonna Curse this city to unending torment with their dying breathe... BUT! They don't need to do that now! Good for you!

They should probably...reward you or something.

Protocol, you know.

Uuuuuuh, hold on. *look around* Got it! Here. Take these handfull of shiny rocks. Yes, I'm stealing them from the Cultists. They were decorating anyway. Anyway! HERE. I give you A Blessing(tm).

THESE will give you Good Sleep.

One for each of you.

To make up for, you know, tormenting you into intense sleep deprivation, when that is the opposite of my Job. And then you saved me and all. Thanks~☆ *poof!*

It's? A fuckin weird day in Gotham. So basically, just Tuesday. They each take a rock and split, dispite Bruce's paranoid "wait, no! We should lock these up and stare at them suspiciously! Unknown magic! I have anxiety!" Twitching. They're gonna go pass out know. Someone call the commissioner and tell him it's safe now.

They get home, crawl out of their uniforms, into their various beds (even Bruce, as bullied and enforced by Alfred) and give no real thought to their new, divinely gifted, Dream Rock. Probably should have. The magic users would have Lost Their SHIT over those rocks. But, Bats? Telling people things? Voluntarily???

LOL.

And? Of too the first genuinely peaceful, guilt free, nightmare free, night of sleep they've had in A WHILE. As the Rocks get a feel for them. What they WANT out of a Good Sleep experience. Is it walking on the beach? Beating up bad guys and saving the day? A night at home? The Dream Stones shuffling through Pleasant Memories and Happy Thoughts looking for material to work off of.

And... huh. They wake up feeling FANTASTIC.

Turns out? When you actually DO get a good night's rest? No tossing or turning, no night terrors or full body clenching of muscles? Your body heals up. You feel better.

Wild.

These rocks are fantastic.

The give it now more thought. Oh sure, they discuss it. Trial period etc. But? It's all just peaceful meadows and seeing loved ones happy. The classics. Expected, really. So they move on. All while the stones are still finishing their Refining.

Eventually? Ding! They're done! They've gotten a full read of their owner! Know EXACTLY what they want. What would make them happy. So, when the Bat's finally hit the hay? They run their REFINED Dream sequence. Dreaming PLUS, if you will.

It's a school night. So Damian, unfairly in his mind, must go to bed first. Though sleep is not the unpleasant thing it once was. Usually filled with fluffy animals. This time? It's different.

He dreams of entering the Batcave. Taller, stronger. The height and frame he is destined to inherit from his father, finally his. The black armor of The Bat adorning him. Timothy is there. Captured, arms bound behind his back, gagged and on his knees, face pressed to the floor. His armor almost artfully destroyed by battle.

He has cat ears and a tail.

Yet this, like every other jarring detail, seems so perfectly natural. Of course he does. Of course Damian is. Nothing is strange to Damian, as he observes the ears pressed back. The whipping, furious defiance of that tail. The low growl that goes with it. Timothy's eyes catching the light. Beautiful and unbreakable.

Damian strides forward.

They back and forth. Word play sharp and cutting. But Damian has WON and they both know it. Timothy fights now only to save face. Enough is enough. Timothy is haughty. Every bit, beautiful and feline.

Damian has his mouth and DARES him to bite him.

Tear apart the ruins of his armor and claims him on the floor. Is he little NOW, Timothy? Can you ignore him still? The game is over. Admit you've lost! Admit it! The pleasure is too much. His Rival thrashing, biting his lip. Trying to hold back. Unable too in the end. Damian wins. Timothy begs. More, more. Please, it is good. More!

Damian...was NOT aware of the root of his need to fight with Tim. Will not know how to face him come morning.

In his Apartment, Dick drags his aching body into bed. It was a shit day. At least his dreams will be nice. He falls asleep. Blinks "awake" with an OOF! As Tim lands on him with a laugh. Is confused but pleased to see him.

Tim clings. Dotes on him. Bringing breakfast, activities just for them, initiating more casual touch then he has in YEARS. Then? When they get back from what feels like the perfect day out? Dick finds himself doing something he would never DARE. Coming up behind that trusting, warm, cute little body. As Tim chatters and puts things away. And slipping his arms around him. Holding him.

Kissing his neck. Slipping his hand down the front of those cute shorts, to start rubbing him through his panties. Get him wet.

Picking him up and bending him over the back of a couch, so he can tug those bottoms down. Eat him out. Make filthy promises to treat his virgin hole just right. Keep him forever. Listen to him whine and feel him squirm, having never been touched like this before.

Dick wouldn't... wouldn't...

But the dream feels so good. Carrying his Timmy to his room, like a lover. Promising to take such good care of him. Fucking him open on his fingers, then his cock. Kissing his face and neck and perfect little tits. Grinding his clit with his thumb as he finds that perfect angle and pounds til Tim has nothing left to give.

Just the two of them against the world. As pretty little family.

Which will make things awkward with Babs, if she wasn't having her own dreams.

Sitting at her computer. Watching Tim writhing and coming apart at the touch of her keystrokes. Making him wear remote controlled toys. Matching them on herself. Lazy days at the Clockwork, with Tim beneath her desk, a fucking machine in him, his desperate mouth on her.

Flashes and scenarios of what she and Dick could DO to him. Watching Dick fuck her boy sloppy. Not letting EITHER of her boys stop until she was satisfied.

Jason getting a classic. Boyfriend shirt and pizza. Railed on his shitty couch as the movie plays. Like lovers. Newlyweds. Coming home and trying to put a baby in Timmers on his fancy ass mattress in a cheap ass frame. Full on mating press, legs basicly to his ears. Timbers begging for it, needy. Taking it like a champion.

And Bruce? Oh he gets silks and his mothers pearls. The suits he wishes he could get Tim to wear, with stockings hidden underneath. Dinner and dancing. Gotham at peace. Tim looking at him with adoration.

Like a Classy Romance from the movies of his youth. Everything rose petals and candle light. Tim TAKING it, dispite how difficult it is for partners to handle him. Everything being tight and slick and hot. Bruce being ruinous in how good he is. No one will ever be able to compare. Tim is his. Just his.

Waking up and nearly yeeting the Dram Stone through the nearest wall.

Tim of course... dream fucks several teammates, a couple Hot Celebrities, and that one GORGEOUS Alien Prince from that one mission when he was like 14. *siiiiiips morning coffee* was an interesting night. Given everyone's thousand yard stare, good to see it wasn't just him who Learned Some Stuff About Themselves last night.

He'll agree not to ask if they don't?

DEAL.

-🐼🐼🐼

everyone but tim grappling with their own existence, morality, and guilt at the breakfast table 😭😭😭

[keelt9]

Chapter 8

Masterlist

We can hear the soft thud of some lights turning off, making me react and take 3 steps back making sure to put a proper distance between us. 

“Ok, I… don’t… I’m sorry Max but I don’t like you.” Max smirks as I feel the heat of my face increase. 

“I know, still I don’t believe you’re totally indifferent to me.” I scoff feeling the air full of tension. “If it’s that way you wouldn't feel kind of nervous around me.”

He slowly starts to walk right to me. I have decided to prove him wrong. I stand still, biting the inside of my cheek.

“See? Like a rock.” Max sighs, however he doesn’t know how to give up.

I didn’t even notice until I felt Max’s fingers tingle between mine that made me hiss. “A rock hitting by waves.”

I can’t speak because if I do, he notices the air I’ve contained since his fingers touch mine, he smiles with a bloody confidence that annoys me so much.

“MAX!” The screams of Ruppert give me enough time to take another step back and breathe, feeling a burning sensation on my hand where his hand was, forcing me to close my eyes.

The touch on my forehead makes me open my eyes. “Honey, wake up.” 

I sat on the bed so quickly, scaring mom, standing next to my bed. “Thomas is here.” 

She touched my forehead looking for fever, a sign that I probably have a cold. “Are you alright?” 

I smile rubbing my eyes. “Yes, you scare me, that's all.”

Mom smiles and walks to open the big curtains of the room. It's a sunny day in London, the beginning of summer.

“Don’t worry, he guess you probably are sleeping so he’s having breakfast with you dad, take your time.” Mom said before going to the door one more time pointing next to me; a tray with orange juice, fruit and croissant. 

I laid back one more time in bed looking at the roof; since that night that moment keeps tormenting me for a full week.

“I hate you Max Verstappen.” I whisper to myself, like every morning since then.

After 40 minutes I was finally ready. Thomas is talking with my parents in the living room clearly having a great time because of the way they laugh and Thomas keeps eating Mom famous cookies.

“Sorry for the delay.” As I enter the room I kiss my dad's cheek and push Thomas so I can sit next to him on the couch.

“I kind of expected to find you here, you mess up my <Good morning>” Thomas joked with my tendency of sleeping on the couch.

I stuck my tongue out. “Ha ha ha, so funny.” I take a cookie. “Let’s go, we’re late.” I kiss my parents one more time walking to the door. 

“Ain't my fault.” We heard the loud laughs from mom and dad. 

I bet sometimes, they see more frequently than they expected, that two kids walking to the entrance with our coats stuck in our backpacks, shorts stained with grass and probably painting, laughing as we back from school.

“Drive safe honey.” Mom asked Thomas in the front door, he nodded, kissing my mother's cheek. 

Inside of the car it took him 3 seconds asking for the dark circles under my eyes along with a calm face.

“I have to ask or I should wait for you explote.” He asked, watching the road but with a smile on his face.

We’re going to Newport; Thomas insisted he wants me to see the advance of the house and talk about a few changes he will do, for the better; he feels comfortable if I see it at the same time he explained to me, making sure all it’s fine.

The sticker on my phone doesn’t help, intact like if it was new. 

“It’s a silly thought, that’s all.” Thomas kept silent. “With time this will be over.” He nodded, didn't say anything else, eyes on the road and music on the car.

We stayed like that for 5 minutes until I exploited it.

I turn around my phone after seeing photos of Max enjoying his vacation, the social media is cruel most of the time. “Tell me something!” 

Thomas laughs as I see the road rubbing my hands together. “Y/N, you know I’m listening, you speak, I’ll listen.”

He watches the map on the car. “We have 3 hours left.” 

Like if I’m about to say the most complicated story I clear my throat and sit straight. “Ok, ok, ok, feel free of interrupting me at any moment, ok?” 

Thomas laughs. “For christ sake Y/N, spit it out.”

I cover my face, I’m doing such a scene for something I swear I have under control.

“I think I like someone.” I whisper to myself, he just hears a mumbling. 

“What?” Thomas lends to his right for I repeat it one more time. 

I close my eyes, hide my face on my hands and…scream it. “I think I like someone!” 

Thomas gasps but doesn't make a big show, like he said he listens… for 1 hour the full story.

“So?” He asked, raising his shoulders. “Oh, come on Y/N, the story of a boy telling you that is more frequent than you want to believe.”

No one could know that better than him, that was a constant anecdote everytime a boy related my last name with Lewis.

Bluffing lost in my thoughts, is the reason he asks a more specific question. “What do you see on him? What’s different?”

“What?” Thomas chuckles, taking his sight from the road for a second and seeing me.

“What happens that makes you believe this is real?” This time I chuckle darting my eyes to him and the window. “Come on Y/N, I know that fake dimple that comes for biting your cheek.”

I release my cheek, just remembering makes me feel shy. Thomas pushed my arm encouraging me to speak. 

“Ok…”

That night after a quick talk with Rupert and Max, I easily found a way to walk away or that's what I thought.

Max screamed my name making me turned around gripping my coat tight but Max didn't say another word, he just keep staring at me, bitting his lip for finally after shaking my head walking away, let it a loud a <Fuck>

Thomas didn’t say anything, just stayed thinking. “It’s silly right?”

He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times. “You see something, it’s just… I'm trying to guess what you see.”

“I don't know, but believe me, whatever I see keeps disturbing my dreams.” Strangely and annoyingly, it doesn’t bother me that much.

The house has made considerable progress, Thomas and his team have been working endlessly; the old house is far gone now, it takes the place of the structure of my new home. No walls or anything like that so you can see to the other side of the house where the old painting room and the big lemon tree reminds like always.

“I don’t get it, why do you want me here? Everything seems perfect.” I asked Thomas as we watched the house from the backyard, letting his team work.

“In case of one last change.” I know he refers to the idea of taking the painting room away and not wasting an unnecessary amount of money to keep it.

“No, I don’t have any suggestions.” Thomas scratches his neck, he’s clearly in total disagreement and it’s easy to notice that. 

Coming out of the house a young woman appears, just like us boots, helmet and a vest, giving some instructions to the people who reinforce the structure of the room.

“Oh, there she is.” Thomas waits until the girl is in front of us. “Emma this is Y/N, Y/N this is Emma”

I heard about Emma, who is the second hand of Thomas, if he couldn’t be in some place, for sure she will be.

Emma smiles and shakes my hand. “I heard a lot of things about you is a pleasure Y/N.”

“The pleasure is mine, I mean I know you´re making sure I’ll have a home by the end of autumn.” Emma smiles, feeling shy for the way she turns her sight from us.

“Don’t be shy Emma, tell her.”  Thomas raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, well, Thomas told me about your project… So, I was walking around Newport these days and I found an old farm.” Emma stops thinking I will interrupt her but I let her keep talking. “It’s a nice place for the shelter, from my point of view.”

Thomas giggles but helps her. “It’s big, really big, but yes, old, a big investment if you asked us.”

“But?” They have a good reason for mentioning that place, even suggesting it to me.

“You must see it.” Emma concluded.

I think for a second. “Are you going to take me or I have to find it by myself?” Thomas rolls his eyes.

“Oh my word, see Emma, get used to it because we have to deal with her for a long time.” I follow the theme through the house observing every room just like I picture.

“Count with that.” 

The farm is 9 minutes away by car. When we take the small road to enter I see it, on both sides, big trees overtake it, at the end of it, green land.

It’s big, really big and by how the house and the barn are, clearly the people stopped living here a long time ago, at the distance is charming the way you can see the whole city.

“The owners?” I asked observing every corner in detail.

“Emma contacted them, if we want they’ll be here next week.” That leaves only a couple of days for Lewis to be here.

“It’s perfect.” I see Thomas and Emma who are waiting for a more specific answer. “I’ll make sure Lewis comes, after all, this is a family project.”

We drove back, we must keep working. I even found a comfortable space next to the lemon tree for me to work. Thomas let his team go earlier claiming it’s been months of hard work plus it’s Friday, time to be with friends and family.

Emma was walking outside of the house when I stopped her. “Emma, thank you, it's the perfect place.” She smiles before walking down the street.

“I’m in the mood for a coffee, you?” Thomas asked, standing next to me. I bluff looking at him. “I knew it, let’s go.”

Newport it’s a calm place, with my family we visited a couple of times when I was a kid, my favorite places were the beach and the local market. I spent hours on the beach walking around, swimming and from time to time building sand castles, the issue was I was terrible at it.

We found a nice coffee shop near the beach, where we can talk and fool around as always.

“So, are you officially asking her?” Mika is the topic of the conversation now.

Thomas takes the last bite of his dessert smiling. “Being honest, you seem more relaxed and who will say you have the trait of blush?” 

“Ok, sneaky girl, let’s end this here.” Thomas stands to go and pays the bill. “We’re on time for arriving at my house for dinner.”

“Thomas.” I choke my head, he sighs looking at the ceiling.

“Soon, ok, soon.” He smiles and pinches my cheek. “Don’t make me nervous.”

A wide smile appeared on my face as I observed people walking. It's summer however the breeze could be cold at night, the reason why they have jackets on. Some walk home and others are ready to enjoy Friday night. 

A small group of boys and girls caught my attention. They looked pretty excited for the way the girls grabbed their hands and the boys had his eyes wide open. I follow the direction of their eyes, curious about what makes them so excited. 

I blink it twice and rub my eyes. If my vision doesn’t betray me, near the beach observing his phone is a blond guy with a Manchester University cap, black jacket and blue jeans is stolling glances from people.

“You must be kidding me.” I ran out of the store, I heard Thomas calling for me but I didn’t even turn around.

I reached him, grabbing him by his arms, turning around, not even sure if he's Max or not, with all the phones which already are focused on him; I remember he said from time to time would like to enjoy a day being anonymous, free of cameras.

Instinctively he pulls his arms from my hands. “Max?” He lifted his eyes, smiling when he saw me. 

My stomach flips in an unexpected way. It’s clear I wasn’t expecting him at all, still it doesn’t surprise me; Max always appears in the most unexpected moments.

“What are you doing here?” The cold breeze makes my voice shutter, it’s really cold here.

Even Max looked so relaxed, his eyes made me feel observed in an intense way. “I’m enjoying my vacation…in a new place.” I learned to know that smile, he’s hiding something else.

I realize I’m still grabbing his arms so I let them go, crossing my arms, taking distance; <In a new place> that doesn’t sound so convincing. Before I could say something I felt my coat on my shoulders, turning around I found Thomas putting on me to keep his hands over my shoulders.

“It’s cold outside, you can get sick.” Thomas smiles but I caught him winking at me. 

Confused, I return that smile to him, but my discomfort begins when Max takes a step right to me. It wasn’t just for the proximity of Thomas with me, in his eyes there is something else.

“A lot of people take care of you, it’s really good.” Max noted in a soft tone, still some things bother me.

I couldn’t avoid raising my eyebrow, I looked down for a moment, and I noticed the same tight grip just this time his phone is paying the price.

“Thomas and I have been friends since we were 5 years old.” It’s jealousy, Max Vestappen is jealous. 

“A pretty long time.” Thomas added, hugging me with one arm. 

I can’t help myself. I kind of enjoy that spark of jealousy on Max's behavior. Kind of charming in some way.

“Sorry, I have to pick this.” I didn’t even hear Thomas's phone, until he mentioned walking away so he could pick it up.

Max took another step close to me, the space between us makes more little in all the possible ways.

“Well, maybe it could be my turn to take care of you.” His voice is low and full of intention.

The way he looked at me made my walls tremble. I know my eyes betrayed me, surprise and a sneaky fun. I've been trying to keep him on the line, but Max it’s making this more difficult than I expected.

“Ready?” Thomas said, making me look right into his eyes, I knew it, he will be fine if I stay, finding out what I have too.

My eyes crossed with Max, I know this conversation it’s going for a path that could be risky for me. 

“Could you take care of me?” The double sense of my questions made him clear I wasn’t referring just to my health.

Max smiles, the tension is more palpable, something I can't ignore.

I bite my lip, I see the small smirk on Thomas face, he already knew. “Hhm, do you mind if I stay? Last train it’s…”

“Train? I’ll take you home.” Max interrupts me with a proud face, looking at me then Thomas.

“Could you take her home?” Thomas tone implied the times I take him literally to his bed. “She’s not a big fan of drinking, don’t worry.”

“Oh my!” I cover Thomas' mouth with my hand. “You’re getting late, right?”

I feel Thomas giggles on my hand but he is limited to nodding, as I walked with him to his car, where I let him go.

“Are you going to be fine?” Thomas asked, holding his door open, I smiled pushing him inside. “If you need something, call me, one of my boys can help you.” 

I leaned on his open window kissing his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

“This is what it feels like.” Thomas breathes in slowly, while I choke my head in confusion. “Be the older brother of a little girl.” 

“Get the hell out of here.” Thomas smiles at me as the engine starts, I wave my hand until he turns around in a corner, trying to calm the increasing beating of my heart.

I observe the people around me, it seems my silly attempts worked because people stop staring at Max, just from time to time glancing at him unsure if they are seeing properly.

I walked back where he’s standing, behind him the sun starts to hide painting the sea with orange and blue tones. 

“So, are you going to tell me why you come here?” My question made him giggle. 

“In a hypothetical way, I remember the places you have written in one of the papers.” Max shrugged his shoulders. “London, come on too obvious, Monaco, I already could see you, just leave me two options, Seattle or Newport.”

“Really?” I narrow my eyes, looking at him, but his laugh betrays him.

He hid his face between his hands, when he saw me one more time, his face was red. “I asked Checo, and he told me.”

That’s more credible. “I knew it.”

“But coming to the beach it’s mere instinct.” He stands proudly. “It took me two days actually.”

I laugh, touched by his effort. “You found what you expect?”

Max cleared his throat. “Actually more than I expected.”

It's my turn to feel my face turn red, feeling flatter for his own words.

“Ok, so, do you have any plans or am I just wasting a way to go home?” He opens his eyes and mouth shockingly. 

“You’re actually going to leave me?” I raise my shoulders, resting importance.

“It was an idea that crossed my mind.” I was fighting to contain a smile, but seeing him perplexed was enough for me to let it out.

Max laughed with me, he extended his hand. “What about a sundown walk?”

I observed his hand shuttering if I should take it or not.

“Is it too cheesy for you?” Max jokes, the truth is I never walked along the beach with somebody.

“The waves increase at this hour; it could be dangerous.” I tried to change his mind, useless for being honest.

“Then hold on tight to me.” His words resonate in my head more than he could believe.

For years I was the one who Caleb supposed to hold on, holding onto him was something unthinkable.

Max smiles softly when I raise my sight from his hand. “You have any idea how much I love that color on your cheeks.”

He starts to walk with his hand tight into a fist, but I take it on the way, surprise him. 

“Tight right?” Max nods, gripping my hand tight.

We spent the night walking on the beach talking about the most silly and serious topics like we've known for so many years. When our stomachs started to growl we drove back to London, it's hard to believe he even rented a car for moving around freely.

We ate a lot of pasta at an Italian restaurant; Mika won't feel proud of my dinner. The hours passed like there were minutes. I realized it was almost 10 pm when a text from mom asking if I'm coming home set my signal for going home.

Following Max's words he drove me home, safe and sound.

“Is it Hamilton's house?” He said as we entered the gravel road.

A big imposing house is clearly visible, surrounded by a huge garden and a few cars on the entrance.

“It is.” I smile, in his mouth you can read <Fuck> 

He parked next to my dad's car. “Thank you for taking me home.” 

I unbuckled my seat belt, “You want to come in?” Max giggles, shaking his head.

“It's fine, it's late.” I thanked him one more time after getting out of the car.

I hear the door open one more time. “Are you free tomorrow?” Max said coming out of the car. 

I play with the keys in my hand. “Of course, after you finish your day of work.” 

He waits for a couple of seconds and rolls his eyes in a funny way. “I know I know, you're busy.” 

Max got inside of the car one more time, fully conscious of my answer.

He was driving back to the gravel road when I made him stop. “Max!” Coming out of the car, don't blame me, it's been a day of taking risks

I bet at least one person inside of the house could hear a distant scream and will be perking on the window, still it was the last of my concern.

I run where he's coming out, feeling my breathing increase, not for my 6 meters running.

“Can you pick me after 5 pm?” Max's eyes bright with a glimpse of a smile. 

My eyes moved all over his face, nervous of his answer but he let it be simple. “5 pm will be.” 

It was a shutter movement full of electricity running all over my body.

I stand on my tip toes grabbing his arm because he’s so damn tall, I give him a peck on his cheek.

“You scored a lot of points today.” I whisper to him, feeling one more time his arm tense on my hand.

He froze in his place, I took my chance to run back to the big wood door of the entrance.

“You'll look better in dark blue, I already can see that!” My lip will be sore for the many times Max makes me feel like this.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Agere!Trans!Ghost with Johnny and their little baby <3

Angst upon ye

Simon hasn't slept a full night in far far too long. Then again, with an actual baby and painful *everything*, he couldn't exactly sleep. Johnny could, which pissed him off to no end - but he won't say that, nor wake him up.

The kid had a pair of lungs on them, that's for sure. Waking Simon up every single fucking night. And tonight was no different.

Their little one woke up screaming in the middle of the night. And Simon tried *everything*. A bottle, a change, skin to skin contact, some lullabies... Nothing worked.

So Simon stood in the nursery bouncing the newborn on his chest as the kid sobbed. Himself in tears too. He hadn't had a break. Awake all night, with minimal naps during the day while Johnny had the wee one. He was regressing, well, fighting it. He couldn't regress with a kid in his arms.

He was jealous. Both because the kid had a parent that wanted to be up and caring for them, and because he couldn't relax and sleep like the baby could. And fuck, he was jealous of Johnny, sleeping peacefully and being so *fucking happy* all the time with the kid.

Why wasn't he happy? The kid was wonderful, full of love. And Simon just wanted to ignore the cries while being unable to set them down. He couldn't let the kid hurt like he did. He didn't want to let them go.

But everything was so much. Tears were in his eyes, spilling down his cheek.

"I know- I know I'm not bubba... Bubba would know what to do- 'm so sorry-" Simon whispered to the baby, voice breaking. Simon felt so small. Tiny and useless with a little baby in his arms that he couldn't put down.

Johnny would know what to do. But he couldn't get his feet to move.

-

Johnny first stirred when the bed got cold. Waking up slowly to the sound of not only their baby crying, but Simon's sad whimpers of his crying. He wishes Simon would just wake him up when the baby cried.

Slowly, he got out of bed and made his way to the nursery. He blearily blinked as he leaned on the nursery doorframe.

"Simon? Darling?" Johnny muttered.

Simon looked like a weight was taken off of his shoulders.

"Bubba- bubba, I tried- I tried everything-" Simon whimpered, looking at the door.

The crying baby was taken gently out of Simon's arms, and he was guided over to the nursery rocking chair.

"Ye did so good... The wee one needs ta cry it out, I think..." Johnny whispered, sitting down and patting his lap to pull Simon in close.

Simon laid in his lap, burying his face in Johnny's neck. The little one eased slightly as Johnny held them.

"it's okay, Si..." Johnny kissed his head. He held both the baby and Simon, even if it was a little bit of a hassle and mess. But he wouldn't trade it for the world.

"'m sorry bubba-" Simon hiccuped.

"Ye did everything right, I promise.." Johnny frowned a little.

"W-why won't they stop crying??" Simon sobbed into Johnny's neck, tugging at his shirt slightly.

"I don't know, lovie... Sometimes wee babies need to cry it out." Johnny tried to assure him. He carefully grabbed something from the side table and put it on Simon's head. Noise cancelling headphones.

It soothed him slightly. Enough for him to loosen his grip and breathe.

Soft kisses on his head and the vibrations of humming from Johnny's chest made his eyes slowly close.

The baby quieted over time, which got Simon to relax more as well. It only took a little for both of them to fall asleep on Johnny. And Johnny just stayed put, happily holding them both. Even if he'd get a cramp later.

[celestialspecial]

I Still Do

Thank you for 700 followers!!!! You guys rock- thank you for making me realize how much I love writing and being so loving and supportive of my work.

*places a kiss on each of your foreheads*

18+/Sexy timesss

The book lay heavily in your hands. Thick cardstock and glossy full color pages bursting to life with each page turned.

You’d sprung for the fancy package, because why not? A matte black hard cover with gold embossing delicately scribbled across the front in some fancy schmancy font that one would usually associate with wedding invitations.

Those days had passed and they’d been fun enough. The planning, the excitement but while your friends had ooed and awwed over floral arrangements and cake choices you instead looked forward to other things.

A future with the man of your dreams. While you did find yourself giggling and joking with them about the trials and tribulations of marriage, it felt different. It felt right. 

A lightness and a rightness in saying ‘yes’ to him.

That had been years ago and while, yes, there were some rough days. Some highs and lows. It still felt easy. Even those winding roads and unexpected things felt easy to navigate by his side.

Lately work had been consuming Billy’s every waking moment. Days chock full of meeting after meeting. Paperwork, spreadsheets, traveling, the whole gamut.

Even now as you peered around the corner into your bedroom he sat on the edge of the bed, laptop opened and furious typing filled the room.

His eyes roamed over the screen and a small wrinkle formed between his brows as he scowled at what was before him. You stood there peeking in on him, the book now behind your back, as you watched him.

His eyes never left the screen as he continued typing but his voice rang out, startling you a bit.

“Are you gonna stand there and hide or are you gonna come and save me from writing out another god forsaken email?” 

You couldn’t help the chuckle that rushed past your lips.

“I’m out of view! How the heck did you see me?” His eyes still remained on the laptop but you noticed the way the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“I can hear you.”

“I was being quiet.”

“Quiet as a bulldozer.” You made a huff in faux anger as you walked over to the edge where he sat.

“That’s what I get for marrying a marine I guess.” 

At that Billy’s eyes did leave the email he was angrily pounding out to look up at you. Hand reaching out and softly running the back along your jaw.

The sensation tickled and sparked something in the pit of your stomach. His dark eyes darted to the side then back to you.

“What’s behind your back.”

“Put away the laptop and I might show you.” 

You’d never seen a work device shut and tossed aside so quickly. He grinned up at you, patting the bed next to him, smoothing a few wrinkles out of the duvet cover.

Coaxing yourself onto the mattress and pulling one leg to cross the other you quickly pulled the book around, holding it tight to your chest. Only the blank back cover showing.

He raised a brow, curiously inspecting the mysterious item. Waiting for you to proceed.

“I hate to the be the person on the receiving end of what sounded like a scathing email you were typing out.”

“Some people don’t understand gentle nudges.”

“You’ve been working really hard recently.” At that his interest in the book cooled as he looked briefly away, running his fingers through the dark locks on his head.

His hair had grown out longer, and his usual scruff was slowly morphing into a full beard. He’d barely had any time to eat let alone go to the barber.

It was unlike him. You joked that he was vain, but was there really anything wrong with wanting to keep up one’s appearance? Especially when one was the CEO of a booming corporation.

“I have, but I promise I’m going to start delegating more. It’s just these new recruits are all green and I can’t afford to have any mistakes. And I-“ he paused taking in your sympathetic face.

“And I don’t want to talk about. I’m here with you right now.” The grin returned to his face as a finger reached out and he tapped against the back of the book. “And I want to know what this is.”

Your grin turned feline, allowing the top of the book to drop down so he could grasp one end.

Billy’s eyes ran over the front cover, zipping back and forth before darting up to yours. His lips had parted ever so slightly and you could practically hear the gears turning in his head.

“Is this…what I think it is?” 

“Well if you already know I guess you don’t have to look at it then.” You moved to take the book back but his grip held firm, tightening against the spine.

He pulled it another inch closer to him.

“You’re gonna be in big trouble if you don’t let me look.”

“Why do I feel like I’m already in big trouble?” 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you could see his resolve starting to melt away. A hungry look began to grow in his eyes, fixated on the cover.

It was too good and part of you wanted to drag it out longer but your poor husband. He was practically aching to look, so you let your hand drop and he immediately pulled the book into his lap and flipped open to the first page.

Then the second. The third. The fourth. With each page turning you could watch the lust seem to grow brighter and brighter in his eyes. 

His breathing turned shallow and the tips of his ears had begun to turn the slightest shade of pink. After a long drawn out moment he spoke,

“When did you have this done?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His hand shot out and grabbed ahold of your wrist. Tight and unyielding, until his thumb began to brush over your own heated skin.

“I think…you’d better tell me.” 

He flipped to another page, then another. 

“This one….this…God-“ he cut off, fingers drifting over the paper before him, twitching as they held the page between his thumb and forefinger. 

Of course he’d focused in on that one. Not that you weren’t watching him now slowly losing it as he took in photo after photo of you.

A girlfriend had mentioned getting boudoir photos done before her wedding and there sparked an idea in your head.

Sure you two weren’t newly married, the honeymoon phase gone years ago. And yet the flame burned just as bright between the two of you. 

There wasn’t a freckle, divet, or curve on you he hadn’t seen. Not a crease or mole he couldn’t place and yet as he devoured the photos from your own boudoir shoot it was as if it was all brand new.

The traditional lingerie shots had been fun, Lacey numbers that had way too many straps but looked gorgeous on camera.

A few of you surrounded by books, a white button up haphazardly falling off your shoulder as you held a book in your hands, a steamy romance novel. Eyeglasses dangling from your mouth.

The one he stopped on had been you, on your bed, Billy’s suit jacket draped over your shoulders. Covering enough, a satin thong sat on your thighs and you had one of his work ties pulled between your legs.

Your face, one of ecstasy, and you remember taking the shot and half telling the photographer not to leave it in. It had felt so raw and your cheeks turned pink when you’d seen it on their camera.

You remembered the thoughts you’d had to conjure up to make that face. Billy’s face pressed between your thighs, his moans drowning out your cries. 

Billy beside you now, seemed to be humming with energy. He wasn’t physically shaking but you could see him nearly hanging on as his eyes scanned over each and every page.

After he’d consumed the entire book, and gone back about three times, he landed again on the tie picture. 

Before you could ask if he liked it, a thought that felt silly and yet you’d never given a gift like this before. He was up and at the dresser, rifling through one of the drawers until he came away with a dark navy tie in hand.

“Was this it?” He asked, holding the swath of fabric. How he’d examined the image with the accuracy and precision only a marine could, of course he knew exactly which tie you’d used. 

Your mouth barely open as you nodded. Not a split second and he was before you, knees bumping against yours as he held the item of clothing out, draping it around your neck and leaning in.

Fingers grasped your chin holding it in place as he lowered his eyes to meet yours.

“Recreate it.”

“W-what?” You couldn’t help the stammer that had escaped you.

“This picture. I want to see what it looked like, in real life.” You laughed at that.

“Billy-“ but you could tell from the way he was looking at you, a hunger so divine and untainted that you felt a shiver slither its way up your back. Heat pooling between your legs as his grip tightened ever so slightly on your chin.

Realizing you were the instigator of this situation your hands pulled the loose t shirt you were wearing off, tossing it to the side. Followed by your pajama shorts and socks.

You turned away from him to unclasp your bralette, “I’m gonna need your suit-“ but as you looked back around he was standing there holding one of his dark suit jackets out to you.

One hand over your chest and sticking your tongue out at him before pulling it over your shoulders. Glancing at the lining you realized this was the very same jacket from the photo.

“How did you..”

“It’s one of my custom tailored pieces.” You were still facing away from him but you felt his hot breath by your ear as his hand slid down the back of the fine material, giving your rear a squeeze in the process.

You squeaked at that before realizing. The underwear. You didn’t have them anymore. The dryer decided to eat them, tearing the satin fabric and creating quiet a mess to clean from the filter for you.

“I don’t have the thong anymore.”

His hands roamed over your back and along your waist, kneading at your sides as he let his head rest in the crook of your shoulder. 

“That’s ok, do it without them.” You felt the heat bristling under your skin. Pinpricks of pleasure running just under the surface. You wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Instead you pushed away from him, letting his jacket cover your butt as you squatted down enough to get your much less sexy underwear off. 

In your last attempt at a playful jest you tossed them over your shoulder at Billy who caught them effortlessly. A shit eating grin plastered across his face.

Letting one of the leg holes swing around his index finger playfully.

“Encore!” You shook your head at that before resuming your place on the bed as you had been on the photo shoot. 

You could feel his gaze resting heavily on you. Every part of you.

Removing the tie from around your neck, wrapping slightly around your knuckles once then on the other hand letting the silky fabric come to rest between your legs.

The cool touch of the fabric grazing against the sensitive spot between your legs made you shudder softly.

“How’s this?” You asked, begging for the silence to be broken as you watched Billy, his whole attention focused on you. 

“And make the face.” He said. A little to casually for your liking. Because of course, he wanted to see the whole scene played out.

You tried imagining the scenario again but being out on the spot, it felt so inorganic, so forced. He could tell.

“What if I helped you out?” The saliva in your mouth had fully dried up at this point. Help? “Close your eyes.”

You couldn’t stifle the halfhearted giggle you made as you said his name.

“Close.” 

You did as he said. Eyelids drifting shut, licking your lips in anticipation. Not quite sure what his intention was.

You felt the warmth of his hand closing over your ankle, rubbing soft circles on your skin.

“Do you remember when we went to the beach up in Michigan?” 

You nodded, licking your lips nervously.

“The way the breeze was..warm and inviting. And we had a cabin with our own private beach?” His hand moved up your leg to rest on the inside of your knee that was planted on the mattress.

“And when we got tired there was a patio with a hot tub overlooking the water as the sun set.” You could feel where this was going.

“And I seem to recall a few days where we didn’t even leave the bed.” He ran a finger up and down your thigh, depthless eyes looking up at you. Oh he was wicked.

“The way the sheets would get all tangled up and I could smell the fresh air in your hair. Feel the heat on your skin where the sun kissed you a little too much. How your lips tasted-“

The need swirling around in your stomach and that desperate desire to feel him inside you started to fire within every nerve. 

“How did my lips taste, Billy?”

“Which ones?” His hand didn’t rise higher to where you needed him, but you were dying for contact, friction, anything.

Two could play at this game. Pulling the tie up tighter between your legs, not even feeling guilty for the gasp that left your lips at the soft drag of it against your body.

Billy’s eyes watched with rapt attention. You could feel the tell tale signs of pleasure building with each glide of his tie, certain you’d need to toss the thing aside before you soaked through it.

“And when we did finally leave the bed it was only so I could bury myself so deep into you on the beach that not even the waves and wind could drown out your screams.” 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan, begging for release.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You didn’t need him to say it outright to know your face matched the picture. The same feelings coursing through you now were the ones you’d envisioned when taking the shot.

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tie, sweetheart?” The words had you grinding  onto the fabric, but that wasn’t what you wanted. 

It took more willpower than you’d care to admit to toss the tie aside, grabbing Billy by the shoulders and pulling him onto you as you both dropped onto the duvet and pillows.

Your mouths collide in a kiss only described as feral. Desperate to touch and taste each and every part of each others mouth. His tongue sliding against your own and you hear him groan loudly.

His hands brushing your hair away from your face, pieces caught up in the crossfire of your kiss. His palms coaxing the jacket open and running along your breasts.

Chest heaving you arch up into him to show your displeasure at his continued teasing. You can feel the hardness pressing into your thigh and you line up to grind against him fully.

The hiss he makes thrills you and is only amplified when you feel him grab a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back to expose your neck to him.

He licks a line up the column of your neck before pressing a scalding kiss to your jaw before working his way back down. 

“Torturing me with those photos.” He murmured as his lips continued to lavish along your collar bones then along the swell of your breasts.

His body settling into the cradle of your thighs and you pushed up again dying to feel his cock, hot and pulsing against you. 

“Someone is eager.” He huffed out, a smile playing across his face as his mouth continued its devilish work sucking on one of your nipples. The other under the palm of his hand. 

“Billy, I swear to god…please.” A weak plea answered with a roll of his hips against you and you felt dizzy with desire.

Your mind felt fuzzy and in that haziness you managed to free one of your arms, letting it drift between your bodies. Pressing firmly to where his pants had become unbearably tight.

The sound he made as you stroked the front of his pants sent electricity shooting up your spine. All these clothes needed off. Now. 

Any other day Billy would be even more tortuous, drawing out your pleasure but tonight after viewing that picture book he seemed in just as much a rush as you.

Fumbling over remaining clothing, ripping open buttons, unzipping and sliding out of his suit jacket eventually he was just as bare as you.

Capturing your lips in another toe curling kiss. His scent filling your nostrils and your own hands tangled up in his hair and the sheets. 

“Please please-“ you could feel him pressed against your thigh, the silky hardness so close to where you needed him.

You feel his hand caress the side of your face once more, turning your face so your eyes meet his fully. His expression is enough to undo you. Passion mixed with awe, tenderness and thrill.

And people say married life is boring.

No words need exchanged as you feel him slide home, stretching you slowly. You swear you can feel each ridge and vein on him. Forcing air into your lungs as you feel him fill you up completely.

“How’s my girl?” He asked placing a gently kiss on your temple. His body hovering just above yours.

“Good.” You say rather breathless. Mind unable to focus on anything beyond him within you. How his body seemed to melt into yours perfectly.

His hips slotted against yours and then a gentle rocking. Your eyes squeezed shut, relishing the push and pull, hips rising up to meet each arc and rock.

It’s delicious, but not enough. Faster, deeper. Your ankles cross behind his lower back, pulling him even closer to you as he grinds into you. 

Billy grunts as he begins to pick up the pace. Your body feels heated, his hot breath next to your ear, then a few open mouthed kisses to your pulse point on your neck.

Filling you up deeper and deeper. Your moans match alongside the noises he’s making. You can tell he’s close the louder he gets.

Your mouths move against one another, desperate longing. He rocks faster and faster. Claiming your mouth and body all at once.

Your orgasm snuck up on you, slowly swirling through your entire essence then you lost it all at once. 

Sweating, breathless, holding onto Billy for dear life as you said his name over and over. His hips continued their relentless sway carrying you through your bliss.

Then it was his turn to join you. Pushing off from the bed, holding you tight against his chest as he emptied himself into you. A loud groan followed by expletives and final few thrusts.

Both of you toppling off to the side, panting heavily. You moved to wipe a few pieces of sweat soaked hair from his forehead, then placing a kiss to the now clear spot.

You found yourself mesmerized by his dark lashes, watching them flutter as he took in a full breath. Cheeks no longer ruddy and red but fading to a softer pink.

The two of you laid there in silence, coming down from the post climax high. Basking in the afterglow, the only sound your breathing coming back to center.

After a moment Billy turned to you, his fingers brushing up the length of your arm.

“Thank you.”

“I’d say I got a little something out of it too.” You chuckled, running the back of your buckles over his cheek. He laughed in response.

“I meant for the book, but yes also this.” You snuggled closer to him, just enjoying being in his arms. Yes, married life was bliss.

The next morning you rolled over still groggy from sleep, a satisfied ache between your legs. Billy’s side of the bed was empty but you could hear him moving about getting ready for work.

Sounds of the coffee pot being turned on and that delicious aroma wafted in from the kitchen. A moment later you saw him standing in the doorway, anvil mug in hand as he took a sip of the fresh brew.

“I’m heading out. Coffees on. I promise not to be too late tonight” he grinned as you sleepily nodded, bed head and all. He lowered the mug and with a wave turned on his heel, the front door closing behind him.

[vixnovacoda]

How The Pine Trees Fall || Chapter 2

Ford Pines x OC (Post-finale)

Word count: 4k

[CH1]

[AO3 version here]

Transcript of recorded statement 1.36: > The town of Gravity Falls is small, but the inhabitants it claimed as denizens were not. They are larger than life. Each and every one of them. > Trying to butter me up, already, sweetheart? > [CHUCKLE] Maybe I am...   For the record, that was the voice of one— > Stan, Stanford Pines! Mr. Mystery and proprietor of the infamous Mystery Shack, home to all life's greatest mysteries and spooks and stuff!

———

There was that face again. The one with the stubble and that jaw. That inhuman jaw. Burnt like a brand across her mind. It had been decades since she last thought about him, and now, now, he was stuck in her head. Never did she intend to see or dare dream of it again.

    Like a bunch of rocks had been thrown into a blender, that was how Lorelai’s brain felt upon waking up from her fugue state. She groaned and rubbed her head as the cold light of night nibbled along her skin, which was a full tone darker than she remembered. Had she truly been out for an entire afternoon? Fully prepared to blame the bizarre fantasy of falling into a hole and being saved by a familiar face she never expected to see again on a night of drinking or the result of being awake for twenty-four hours. That was, until her usual walls were instead wooden with triangular windows, and her bed a sofa instead. The pain that shot from her ankle as she went to stand further solidified the truth that the other day had really occurred. 

    With a yelp, she flopped back down. She couldn’t believe any of it had happened; the stepping on the butterfly, the scattered giant holes in the ground, the hole she fell in, and then Stan. Frankly, it was very strange – which she should have seen coming, as was the nature of Gravity Falls to be strange, after all. “Good, you’re awake.” There was that voice from the hole again, though it sounded a lot less swallowed-a-bunch-of-gravel-like and… just smooth, smoother than the scribbling he made on some paper anyway. Not at all how she remembered Stan sounding. It was easier on the ears and almost made her want to fall asleep – if not for the circumstance of being in a room she didn’t recognise. In fact, there were these minor differences she could just barely make out as she noticed him sitting in the corner of the room by a desk; the definition in his chin, the lack of five o’clock shadow, the glasses frame being rounder, the still waiting to grey out hair, and the trench coat - since when was he a trench coat guy? – it was as if he had stopped ageing and got an entire personality shift, and why was he coming over, and getting closer, and why was her heart pounding, and why was he shining a penlight into her eyes? “Tell me, does your head hurt at all?” prodded ‘Stan’.

    “Jesus, Stan! Take a girl to dinner first before you shove something in her face,” exclaimed Lorelai, lurching back against the sofa as she shielded her eyes. “And I’d feel a whole lot better if I could see.”

    “Stan?” He squinted, confused.

    “Wait, I mean, it’s almost hard to tell, but you’re really not Stanford?” she queried.

    That stumped him. Stumped him harder than she expected.

    He stepped back, scratched his head with the end of the pen and mumbled something about a ‘memory gun’, whatever that was. “I… Well, yes. I am. But I don’t know you. Do you know me?”

    She blinked and her stomach sunk. “You really don’t know me, huh.”

    “Should I?” He pulled his face back into a weird expression.

    Under the dim overhead light, she squinted as more things came to the light, such as what others may not notice at first; a curious sixth finger. Curious for a man she knew to have only five. It seemed the Stanford she had known was most definitely not the man before her now and, yet, they seemed so similar upon a glance. Two men with distinct similarities and slight differences and both seem to reside within Gravity Falls, too many coincidences to call it anything other than the obvious or maybe Lorelai just hit her head too hard on the fall and this was all some part of her imagination. But coincidences were unlikely to be anything other than connected in a place like Gravity Falls. But she couldn’t honestly be right. That would mean…

    “Geez, Ford, buy the lady some dinner first before you interrogate her,” came another man from the doorway on their side. Lorelai didn’t see him at first, but it was that gruff voice, that deep, bottomless-pit-ness she’d recognise anywhere.

    “Stanley, what an absurd insinuation,” bit back the other with a huff. 

    The second shrugged in response and made an undiscerning noise, which led to an endless back and forth between the two doubles as they used unsharpened words that Lorelai chose to tune out. She rubbed her head at the commotion. It was a lot to take in – and a sight for single child Lorelai to behold; watching them bicker, and push, and tease, but never in a way where they actually meant the things they said. Harmless, really. Ford was more blunt and defensive. Stanley was the sarcastic, joking one. Which was to be expected of the gold chain, white shirt, and denim-wearing man she knew as Stan.

    He had aged. Nonetheless, it was still him and not some double figment of her imagination or lookalike. It was him . And her earlier hunch was right. “Twins. You are twins,” blurted out Lorelai with a frown etched into her forehead, and her old southern drawl poking through. 

    At the drop of a hat they stopped. Sense switching in as they remembered why they were bickering in the first place. Stan turned to face Lorelai first, pivoting half-way on the ball of his foot like some awkward buffoon and looked her way. “Hey ya, toots,” broke Stan, the man who hadn’t changed a bit. Not truly. For she could swear she saw all those harsh features soften the second their eyes met. Suddenly, it felt real.

    She swallowed, her heart dropping.

    Twenty years.

    It wasn’t enough.

    “So, you two are… acquainted?” interjected Ford, gesturing between them.

    “… You can say that, yes,” answered Lorelai, plain and on the verge of pulling herself back together.

    “Yeah,” echoed Stan in a similar vein as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Urm… Where are my manners? Lorelai. My brother, the real Stanford Pines. He’s the one whose hole you fell in. Ford. Lorelai Summers. She’s—”

    “Farhaven. It’s Lorelai Farhaven now. I married… Was. I was married,” corrected Lorelai.

    He stared.

    She stared back. Unblinking, the pair of them.

    It took a while for it all to register in Stan’s mind. Though, the moment it did, Lorelai noted the whites of his eyes burn pink ever so slightly and gave her a look that said, really? And she looked back like she meant it because she had moved on (had she?). It was the final nail in the coffin. Unexpected, yet, bound to happen. He wasn’t really sure how to react.

    None of them did.

    Neither spoke – and Ford, respectfully, dared not intrude on what was a personal moment. For those next few moments there was nothing. Nothing except for the slow funeral march of her heart dragging along the awkward silence in its wake – ‘from the cold depths of her chest,’ imaginary Stan would add. That’s what she could once imagine him saying. To him, it might have been cruel, but he had left her unforgettable scars along the groves in her heart. That was cruel. They were both cruel to each other in the end.

    In an effort to lessen the addition of any more hurt, Lorelai broke first, opting to look elsewhere, anywhere that wasn’t him, which included Stanford who stuck out like an odd daydream with his idle stance of hiding beneath a maroon book as he kept to the sidelines. But no matter how hard she tried, she kept looking at him. The window, then Ford. The wooden architecture that suggested she was in a cabin of sorts, then Ford. The door she’d never seen, yet recognised the similar shapes from the others in the building, then Ford again. They were in the Mystery Shack, they were in a house so full of memories, and she couldn’t stop looking at him. Him. Him, him, him , Stan. Every which way she looked there was him. Even in this very room where she had never been before, there was him more than once. It wasn’t until she took a deep breath and actually closed her eyes that her thoughts returned to an ounce of normalcy as the reason why she was out here in the first place rose to the surface.

    She found it instantly on the sofa not far from her, like it had been calling, screaming to her this whole time. Moonlight shone along the broken fractures and cracks of the plastic that once held the machine and cassette tape together in its rectangular shape. The tape’s guts spewn forth from the compartment as the magnetic tape ran long spirals which pooled into a pitch black mess. A couple buttons destroyed, ‘record’ being stuck in place. Her tape recorder. Supposedly broken by her act of heroism.

    Hours of research, gone. Ruined.

    “This isn’t about some kid I don’t know about, right? Cause I’m not paying child support,” spoke up Stanley with that regular old mask back on again, playing serious this time.

    “Stanley,” chastised Ford, breaking his writing streak to glare lasers at his brother.

    “What? I’m not. They’d be a full blown adult now.” He threw up his arms.

    “No,” answered Lorelai, interrupting their second round of bickering before it could even start. “No, I came here for research purposes.” She cradled and bundled the broken tape recorder within her lap, careful not to disturb it further lest it be irreversible. “Though, I wish I could say it was to collect some money you owe for a few books.”

    “Ha, I, I don’t know what you mean.”

    “Library. Library books, you fool. I’m the new librarian.”

    Stan hummed in amazement. “Ah. You always were the smart one with your tapes and stuff.”

    She whipped her head up at him. “And buttering me up don’t work no more, hun ,” hissed Lorelai, an ancient venom bleeding atop her tongue meant to hurt him, and she watched as he shrunk in on himself like some turtle hiding in its shell. “I’m not going to gloss over all this so easily, not when it cost me so much of my work and years of you lying to me.” To which she eased her attention towards the man caught in their crossfire and clearly wanted no part in their feud. “Look, far be it for me to know why I never knew about you… Ford, personally, I do not care. This whole name, identity, whatever that was is a private matter for later on. However, can someone please explain what you’re doing digging massive holes in the middle of nowhere for people to just fall into?” she asked, still ever so irritated.

    “I, well,” started Ford, looking over at Stan as if for help.

    “She’s a born native, Ford, you can trust her,” chimed Stan out of a sort of reluctance.

    “Can I?”

    “I did. Do. I still do.”

    Ford sighed, also reluctant, putting away his book and adjusting his glasses. “Well, coincidentally, I was conducting a bit of my own research as well, searching for something as a matter of fact.”

    Well, she’d be damned. Could it have been the same thing she was looking for?

    Lorelai leant forward along the edge of the sofa as she peered over the rim of her triangular framed glasses and muttered beneath her breath while Ford began to delve into a lecture-worthy explanation of all that happened. “Fascinating…”

———

Transcript of recorded statement 1.40:

> Fascinating . . . Out of all the creatures in Gravity Falls, these little ones have been the most elusive of all, and yet we have happened to a gathering of them that won’t seem to leave us alone. What another strange anomaly. > I’d say what’s strange is the fact they’re all staring at us. They’re not poisonous or nothin’, right Lore? > Naturally a pattern such as theirs on their coat would be a warning to wannabe predators, mostly indicative of venomous animal species. > Wait, what?! > Shh... You’ll frighten them off, Stan. Here. [PLASTIC RUSTLING] > Why am I holding bread? > Testing a theory.  > You really are a strange one, toots. > I know, comes with the territory of dating a native Gravity Falls dweller, hun. Now, shush. [LONG PAUSE] > It’s as I predicted. They appear to be hungry. > ... I think one of them just licked their lips. That wasn’t just me, was it? > Note, despite the average diet of their non-cryptid relatives, it seems the plaidypus has a fondness for that of wheat, specifically, bread— > [HUSHED] Lore. > It makes one wonder how far they might go on an empty stomach for that which is their favourite? > Lore! [SILENCE. SOON FOLLOWED BY THE SNAPPING OF BILLS AND THE SURPRISED YELLING OF A MAN THAT CARRIES INTO THE DISTANCE AND LAUGHTER, BEFORE THE LAUGHTER SLOWLY HALTS] > Well, hi there lil’ fella, get separated did ya? [A SHORT SOFT SQUEAK] > You’re just like me then. [GROANS]. Heavier though. Softer too. I’d be damned, those lumberjacks were right. [CONCERNED SNIFFLES] > Don’t worry, I won’t harvest you like those heartless folk. Us strange ones gotta stick together. > [DISTANT] Lorelai, a little help! > They’re harmless, Stan! Just give them the bread! > [DISTANT] What? But you said they were venomous! Ah!— [SPLASHING OF SHALLOW WATER] > Hmm...  A coat, I think. A coat for a group of plaidypi.

———

Gravity Falls was freezing. 

    No one told her how much more frigid the world had grown when night killed day hours ago. Lorelai shivered, burying herself into the smokey scent of her jacket as she cursed with each step that sent pain through her nerves (she couldn’t believe that she was actually missing being back in the Mystery Shack, stupid sprained ankle). Ford, however, did explain the purpose of the holes she had fallen victim to. In that he spotted some sort of creature while following a plaidypus one morning before falling victim to a labyrinth of winding trees at every twist and turn – turned out there was some strange event surrounding that part of the woods where it would send you around in circles at every bend, no matter which direction you went and time was fleeting. That the holes were a measure to capture what might have been the cause of such an anomaly. That he and his great niece and nephew, Mabel and Dipper, were out that morning to see if anything sprung one of the traps.

    The whole thing was, admittedly, strange. There were a million things waiting to burst from the seams of her mouth to just say, and ask, and discuss, and she would have stayed, dining upon his morsels of knowledge that she had gaps of, had she not been so burdened by overstaying her welcome at her ex’s abode after his proposal to drive her home. When she had left, she wanted to tell Ford that he was right, but her proof was poor and was nothing in comparison to how he may have genuinely stumbled upon the very thing she’d been searching for all this time. Him, some random scientific genius. All Lorelai had was a gut feeling.

    Then there it was again.

    Tug.

    She stopped dead in her tracks. Five feet from the Mystery Shack and that sensation returned as if it had been waiting like some loyal pup all this time for her to return to the wilderness, and it called. Almost imperceptible. A tug… tug… tug. A tug at her head, moonlight blinding her vision on the horizon. A tug at the feet. A tug at the hands. At her body. Desperate and pleading. A tug that was a whisper in the wind for her to follow. It sounded so familiar, So much like her own echo.

    Suddenly the cold wasn’t a bother any longer. Nothing was. Lorelai entertained the idea of rushing back inside and confessing to Ford. For a moment. Truth was, she couldn’t. Deep down, some part of herself wanted this discovery to be hers . She just had to move—

    “Ground control to Lore? You alright?” came Stan’s voice all garbled and scratching at the edges of her mind, slowly pulling her back to reality. She blinked. The world changed. It was actively changing before her eyes, the outdoors existing separated from her, rolling past in a haze from the window of a car, Stan’s car. Lorelai knew instantly from the first squeak of the passenger’s seat that she was inside his car, leather seats and all. While everything else changed, this had not. “I…” she wasn’t too sure what really happened, but she shook it off. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she told him. A yawn escaped her throat. She didn’t realise how tired she’d been this whole time. Probably just shock. Yeah, shock, or adrenaline.

    Stanley tapped the tip of his finger idly on the over-worn steering wheel. “So, married, huh?” attempted Stanley with what she assumed was the best opener he could come up with.

    “Yeah.” But she refused to play nice and forget.

    “Was it… uh, was it a good one?”

    Lorelai occupied herself with the side-view mirror, her reflection harsh and languid. “It was a marriage,” she replied, monotone.

    He chuckled. “Ha. Don’t I know it. Was married for a short while myself.”

    Thump . Went the car over a bump in the road.

    “When did you?—”

    “Why did you do it?” she demanded, her head hung and her words sharp.

    “Huh? What, get married? I could ask the same for you. Didn’t think you’d move on so easily.”

    “No. Why’d you lie to me for years?” She glowered at him from the mirror.

    Thumb . Another bump.

    He stalled as he refused to meet her intense, white-hot gaze. “Ah, that.”

    “Yes. That .” The plastic of the tape recorder dented under her increasing grip.

    “Well,” he started, running a hand through his hair and sighing deeply, “it wasn’t my intention. I wanted to tell you about everything. You gotta believe me.”

    “Then tell me now. Explain everything, right here, right now.”

    “I. I can’t.”

    “Why not?”

    “Because it’s complicated.”

    Red beaded droplets ran from her fingertips. By the time she noticed the stinging ache of the cuts, a few drops had already taken to staining a patch on the denim of her jeans. Lorelai bit back the pain as she withdrew plastic from flesh, releasing her tight grip on the tape recorder – in her hands it was small, something someone could properly grip entirely with one hand like a heart, her heart that now poured out blood from an old wound. But she brought it upon herself; shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have gripped the broken case so hard; she should have known better than to expect any other answer. It was always complicated .

    How foolish of her.

    Stan – Stanley – Pines was a liar through and through. If it’s trust he wanted, then he wasn’t getting it. Lorelai would not give him an inch, even if it cost her life. After all, had he learnt nothing from the last time? The pain, the suffering, all back within an instant like a bonfire eating away at rotten coffin wood where the smoke made white eyes red. Excuses after excuses. She had hoped the fire would eventually burn down to the truth after two decades of being lit, but all she got was the searing of her own skin. Enough was enough.

    Grimacing and mustering every fibre of her being, Lorelai commanded, “stop the car.”

    “But—”

    “I said, stop.the.car.”

    Stan tried to refute her, but the look she gave him was enough to cause him to gulp, put his foot on the brake and turn his skin inside out. Lorelai didn’t care about where they were, or how far she’d have to walk, nor the amount of pain she would be in. Sitting in that car with Stanley Pines was a far worse pain than any sprained ankle. Stepping out, boot against concrete, back turned and out of the car, Lorelai shut the door with a slam as she went to walk off in whatever direction would get her as far away as possible from Stan within the streets of Gravity Falls.

    But it wouldn’t be enough. More stubborn than a mule and going after her, Stan shouted out to her, “Lorelai, wait!”

    “What? What is it this time?” She stopped, her face still red from the neck up.

    “I. The tape recorder.” For the first time in a long time, his voice softened against the still and dreaded, chill air. Softer than she could imagine it going. “I broke it once before, let me try again. I owe that much to you,” he implored.

    “It’s a bit hard to trust you when all you’ve ever done is break things, Stan,” she argued, a frown upon her lips.

    “Well, I’m trying to change that.”

    “I don’t believe you.”

    “For crying out loud, it’s been twenty years. People change, haven’t you?”

    Lorelai fell silent. He had a point. By god, he had a stupid point.

    She turned on her heel before reluctantly crossing the distance wedged between them. “One chance. That’s all I’m giving you, Stanley Pines,” she told him and handed over the recorder, and he just smiled like some proud idiot, teeth and all. 

    “I like my odds,” said he, as if he had tricked her all over again into giving him her heart. But, she wasn’t the same woman he had fooled years prior, and he wasn’t the man she once knew. Then again, he never was. Doesn’t mean she’d forgive him for the past.

    She gave him a few days.

———

Transcript of recorded statement 2.36:

> Toots, do we have to do this? > You’re the one who wanted to stay with the times, hun! [CLOTHES BEING THROWN HIT THE FLOOR] > Christ almighty, you barely have anything salvageable in here...    Aha! This will work great. Here, put this on. > I’m not sure about this one, Lore. > Look, I know Mr Mystery is attached to the whole Mystery Question Mark symbol, hun, but a plain black suit will look amazing. Trust the vision. [A SIGH, FOLLOWED SHORTLY BY THE RUSTLING OF CLOTHES BEING REMOVED AND PUT ON] > Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this one from me this whole time, Stan. > Honestly, I kind of forgot about it. Probably because it’s the only one that’s not mine. > Suits you well though. > Really? I feel strange...   Was my fathers, think he meant for it to be some sort of wedding attire or something. > You’re just missing a few pieces, that’s all. Let me. [FOOTSTEPS ECHO AWAY FROM THE TAPE RECORDER AND MORE RUSTLING] > Lore? > Hm, yes? > Do you— Have you ever thought if marriage suited you? > Have you? [SILENCE] > Anyways, there, done! One eyepatch, the fez and a Kentucky bow tie, courtesy of my father, Jake Summers. > You sure I should have this, won't he miss it? > He won't even notice.   Besides, now it’s a lil’ bit of both of us. [SILENCE] > Hey, big guy, talk to me. Whatcha you feelin’? > A bit awkward, I guess. > It always fits eventually, Stan. Don’t force it. > Yeah. Say, be a doll and grab something from that drawer over there for me, will you? > Sure thing. [FOOTSTEPS APPROACH. A DRAWER OPENS. OBJECTS CLANK AS PAPER RUSTLES] > Wait, wait, wait— > ... What the hell, Stanford. What in the actual hell? > I can explain, just— > Stay awa— [A CRASH. TAPE RECORDER HITS THE FLOOR. STATIC] Statement ends. Transcript over.