#yes i made it like 30 seconds longer than it needed to be and had to hand crop the song in half down for the ending joke

[chatpileroan]

fuck it talk talk jam edit

[gutsby]

Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ‘Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

��Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

[ink-stainedkiss]

Crawlin’ Back to You - Nanami Kento

Synopsis: Between fighting curses and typing out papers for what felt like hours, Nanami barely had enough time to see his safe haven. You. And after long, tiring, days, he finds himself crawling into your arms. A complete surrender to your embrace.

A/N: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 200 FOLLOWERSSS!!❤️❤️ This one shot was inspired by the hozier’s cover of Do I wanna know? I fear I love needy men and I was way to giddy for this.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None

This was hell. Absolute hell. Nanami was used to bad days at work, office jobs were never easy, especially when he was a boss to so many. His eyes looked toward the clock on his wall and the big hand wasn’t getting any closer to eight. Today had to be the longest day of his life. Nanami left home around six in the morning since he was called to a mission with Ino. A level one curse that gave neither man a break.

Nanami was dirty and tired after the job, but as his luck would have it, he was sent to another site with Mei Mei. It was a bit easier and he got out sooner than expected. Sadly, he had work today as well. There wasn't any time to stop by his home and get a new set of clothes, so he settled for a quick shower at Jujutsu Tech and wore whatever clothes were put into a guest dorm. Nanami felt bad. Not in a physical way, more like guilty because he hasn't seen his beautiful wife all day. To make matters worse he has been cooped up in his office and the organized paragraphs are going to be the death of him. He could only think about what you were up to.

He knew at the least you were done making dinner, since that was the last thing you texted him. Nanami followed the message with relentless apologies, but you showed no sign of anger. It made him feel worse that you were so used to his absence. You understood he didn't want to stay away from you and you had your own work to deal with.

“Mr.Nanami, can I talk to you for a second?” A chirpy voice called from outside of his door.

Nanami thanked the engineer for not making his office out of glass, otherwise his poor employee would see the very noticeable scowl spreading on his face. He pondered if he could stay quiet and the man would walk away, but then Nanami heard a persistent knock on his door. Swallowing an angered groan, Nanami spoke up,”Yes, come in.”

Akio, a man who has worked under Nanami for a little over a year now, walked in. He had a bright smile on his face, one that made Nanami internally cringe. How could someone be happy this late at night? Nanami tried to hide his dejected expression,”What did you need to speak with me about?”

Akio sat in a cushioned chair ahead of his boss, looking way too excited for whatever this talk was about. Nanami is eye twitched behind his glasses as the man fixed his suit. Truthfully, he couldn’t give a shit about professionalism. Nanami just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

“I would like to ask for a raise.”

Could the universe hate Nanami more? He really did not want to have this conversation. The blonde sat stiffly in his chair, his eyes locked onto his employee, but his mind wandering elsewhere. Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow? I was planning on raising his salary anyways, is he really this persistent? It’s already eight. If this runs on for too long I’ll have to cut him off. Let him down easy and say I’ll think about it.

By the time the clock hit 8:30, Nanami was tired of Akio’s rambling. So with a pat of his thighs, Nanami stood, clearing his throat,”Thank you Akio, I appreciate your hard work and dedication to the company,” He shook his employee’s hand,”I will definitely look into that.” Akio nodded happily,”Thank you,Sir.”

He walked out proudly and now Nanami was free. The conversation had ran thirty minutes longer than Nanami wanted. As he closed down his office, stacking papers, and flicking off lights, Nanami was more than ready to head home. The drive was smooth and quick. He may or may not have pushed a little past the speed limit, but it was all in the name of good. His finger tapped the steering wheel impatiently, if there was any faster way to get home, he would take it in a heartbeat. When his headlights scan over the front of your shared house, his antsiness is gone.

The second his car was parked and turned off, Nanami was rushing to the door. When he opened it, his nose was filled with mouth watering scents. He was a bit confused, since you probably should have been in bed by now. Shutting the door behind him, he loosened his tie and heard you working in the kitchen. At this point the food wasn’t his main focus, it was you. Desperation sank into his body and he practically stumbled to your space. Nanami saw your back turned, fixed on the mixture in a pot, then you turned.

You gave him a light smile,”Hi Honey,” Your voice was as sweet as ever,”Welcome home.” Before you could even let go of the spoon in your hand, Nanami was already holding onto you. His grip was tight and at first you expected it to be a usual hug, that was until he didn’t let go. You quickly understood the gesture and let go of the ustensil, wrapping both arms around his shoulders.

Against your neck, you could feel your husband breath in, as if trying to absorb every inch of you. You could feel the relief in his body as it melted against you. Nanami was a strong man, one who always held a stern face, but that all washed away once he was with you. One of his arms wrapped all the way around your back and the other rested loosely below it. His fingers lifted your loose t-shirt and gently caressed your skin. There was no lust in his touch. No. He only craved your body for the soul purpose of feeling like no matter what you would always be waiting for him.

“I’ve missed you. A lot.” He mumbled. Your hand ran up to his hair, softly playing with his blonde locks,”I know, My love.” You hummed,”And I’ve missed you more.” If work had run on a little longer, Nanami was sure he would have shed a tear. All of his frustrations and pain were lifting off of him. Nanami was sure your touch held some sort of divine power, because no one ever made him feel like this. He was weak to your hands, your presence, just you in general.

No words were exchanged and the two of you stood there. Your fingers find new areas so lovingly touch. If you had the power, you would take away all of Nanami’s stress, but that was impossible. So, he settled for crawling back to you by the end of the day. Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be the last time Nanami would have to stay away from you the entire day, but in the end you would be waiting for him. Always.

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 1)

☆ pairing: toji x afab!reader ☆ summary: toji, your objectively hot neighbor, needs a babysitter, and you need some cash. however, things are getting weird because he hasn't paid you in a week and rent is due... ☆ warnings: 18+. MINORS DNI. choking, oral sex (f!recieving), implied parent death, some public nudity, slight power dynamic ☆ tags: modernAU, babysittingAU ☆ a/n: lowkey wrote this with one hand if you catch my drift ꈍ .̮ ꈍ i'm thinking about doing more parts loosely based off of each other following y/n and a love triangle between gojo and toji. yes, they will be horny and yes i will *try* to have some plot let me LIVE okay (°◡°♡) let me know if that's something people are interested in :3 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"megumiiii~", you sing lightly, "it's time for beeed". it's way past 9pm, and if toji finds out his son was 30 minutes past his bedtime, he'll never let you forget the next time you babysit. not that you have any issue babysitting for your extremely built, ripped, hot, dilf of a neighbor, that is.

megumi groans and tears start lining his little eyes. "but i don't wanna~" he cries out. "there's only 30 minutes left on this show...", he tries to beg. you pick up the candy wrappers you secretly gave megumi after dinner as a treat for eating his veggies.

"okay, first of all, i let you stay up way longer than i should have. second, there's no way in hell am i gonna let you stay up and watch...oh god. you're watching euphoria?!" you exclaim, eyes widening at the thought of megumi watching all the inappropriate content without you even realizing. you hope it's too late in the night and he's far too sleepy and tired to actually retain anything he just watched. you grab the tv remote and turn it off, and pick up megumi in your arms. "c'mon bubs, you've got school tomorrow, and your daddy will be home soon", you whisper softly in his ear.

megumi yawns and mumbles while slowly drifting off. "but i'm not even that sweepyy...". by the time you make it upstairs to his room, megumi is knocked out. you smile softly at him, before quitely closing the door and heading downstairs to the living room to clean up the mess megumi had made.

you look at the time again. 9:45...toji should be back soon, you think to yourself. you decide on reviewing some of your notes for a final next week while euphoria continues to play on the background. you've personally never watched the show, but your roommate, shoko, was obsessed with jacob elordi and loved euphoria, but there was far too much nudity in it for you.

as if right on cue, shoko shoots you a text.

shoko: pls tell me ur balls deep in toji rn babe me n utahime are bored as hell and we need something exciting this friday night 😭

you giggle. it was no secret between you and three that your next door neighbor was insanely hot. you guys always joke about sleeping with toji. you quickly type back:

y/n: stfu what if he was next to me and read this text huh? never gonna happen you know that 🙄

it’s not like you’re not not down for that. you just don’t want to be all over him like everyone else in the neighborhood. you and shoko have seen the way some of these girls did not know how to act on nextdoor whenever toji went on one of his shirtless runs or drove megumi to and from school.

it’s also not like you’re a total virgin either. you’ve had your fair share of ex-boyfriends in the past, but you won’t lie…it has been a while since you’ve been with someone. your thoughts are interrupted by a response from shoko.

shoko: riiiighttt, that's why you asked to borrow my shortest n sluttiest skirt to "babysit" tn 😏

you shake your head, scoffing at your cheeky roommate. you love her, but there's a final next week that isn't going to pass itself. muting the show and putting on your headphones, you get lost in your class notes, reviewing all the important key points and ideas before your final next week. you don’t even notice toji opening the door and his keys clanging on the table as he takes off his shoes and groans after a long day of…work? you’re not entirely sure what he does for a living but you never really bothered to ask. and it’s partially why you were feeling nervous to ask toji about your babysitting payment for the last week, as he hadn’t paid you at all for it. toji heads to the kitchen and opens a cold bottle of beer and saunters to the living room, only to be met with a pair of 4k hd bare titties on the 60 inch tv in his living room and you on the sofa.

toji clears his throat loudly. “whatcha watching, y/n?”, he says cheekily. you look up at toji, startled by his entrance, and you look at the tv, and squeal at what’s on display.

“oh my god, mr. fushiguro! i-i-i have no ideas w-what’s playing. ohmygodidon’tevenknowwhatshowisplaying-” you start rambling, looking around frantically for the remote to turn the tv off.

“relax, y/n-kun”, toji coos. “i’m not judging you. never known anyone to do their best studyin’ while there are a pair of tits on screen, but you always find a way to surprise me.” toji chuckles as you turn off the tv, and moves closer to you so he can sit across the sofa.

“stop teasing me, mr. fushiguro~”, you whine., crossing your arms and pouting. “you know i’d never-“

“c’mon y/n, how many times do i have to tell you to call me toji? i’m not that much older than you, you know that right?”, toji reminds you.

your pout slowly turns into a smile as you laugh slightly. “okay, whatever you say, boomer,” you tease. you and toji both laugh gingerly. you both stare at the blank tv screen, marinating in the comfortable silence you both were familiar with. toji was right when he said he wasn’t much older than you. he was, after all, your age when he had megumi and was somehow making ends meet as a single parent, although you would be lying if you said you hadn’t seen a few women here and there that toji brought home every so often. it was never the same girl more than once, but you definitely knew he had some game, whether you liked it or not. wait, do you not like that he brings girls over?

you shift uncomfortably on the couch as you recall the uncomfortable conversation you need to have with toji. he senses the change in your mood and how you body stiffened up instead of its usually relaxed posture. toji frowns. “hey, what’s on your mind, pumpkin?”

“umm…well, i hope you don’t mind me asking this but…well, i’ve got to pay my portion of rent soon. a-and i’ve noticed that i haven’t gotten paid for the last w-week yet. sorry, i know things are rough but…i was wondering…” you trail off, pleading inside that toji can fill in the blanks himself and can figure out what you’re asking.

toji shifts towards you and locks eyes with you. you don’t really know what you were expecting to see but it sure wasn’t him smirking. you swear you saw a twinkle of playfulness in his eyes as he inches closer and closer to you. almost instinctively, you clench your thighs together, trying really hard not to think about the effect locking eyes with toji has on you.

“aw, i’m sorry, pumpkin.” toji feigns sympathy to you. “you see, i was going to pay you last week. remember when you went to tuck megumi in after last thursday? i had an envelope with the cash i owed you, and i went to put it in your bag, when your laptop chimed with a new message.” your face immediately drops. this can’t be what you think it is. you’re not entirely sure what toji could’ve seen, but also, isn’t this a violation of your privacy? you hold your breath and gulp, daring not to let toji sense how nervous you are.

“oh god, y/n. i didn’t want to look but it’s hard to look away when there’s a message that says ‘so have you fucked your hot dilf neighbor yet?’ don’t tell me you were only babysitting for me because you wanted me?” toji asks, raising an eyebrow, the scar near his lip lifting up slightly in a teasing grin.

“i-i don’t know w-what you’re talking about, toji~ why were you looking at my messages!” you accuse, your face growing hotter by the second with embarrassment and…lust? wait what no, he’s your neighbor you can’t do this! you can feel your panties getting more soaked by the second and you cannot bear to look at toji’s stupid handsome face, so you look at his hands. the way his large fingers rest on the sofa. how would they look around your neck? oh my god, snap out of it!

“why are you telling everyone but me you think i’m hot?” he counters, pulling you from your thoughts. “that reallyyy hurts my feelings, y/n-kun”, toji says as he pretends to pout. wait, when did he get so close to you?

“it’s s-so unprofessional i didn’t want to-“ you start rambling. toji is right next to you, his knees touching your knees. he stops you mid sentence by using his hands that are practically the size of your face to grab your jaw and force you to face him, as you let out a pathetic little whine.

“cut the shit, pumpkin. it’s just babysitting, okay. it’s not that serious,” toji spits harshly. every muscle in your body is on fire, and you have to actively prevent your eyes from rolling back. you swear you had a fantasy dream like this once (oh god, was it with toji?).

“don’t think i don’t see you looking sooo disappointed when i bring yet another girl home with me. hell, it even makes me feel bad…” toji trails off, as he loosens his grip on your jaw, slowly using his fingers to trace your jawline. you shiver at his touch. “hell, even i feel bad when i see your sad sad face drop. my poor girl…”, toji feigns a frown as he starts to softly trace the outline of your lips.

instinctively, you let out a quite moan when his fingers touch your lips. “i do, toji. i feel so sad when i see you with those other girls. i can’t stand it when someone else has you.” you confess, almost embarrassingly easily. your wide bambi eyes look at toji’s, and you’re not sure if you want to cry or beeline back to your place and forget this ever happened. or perhaps a secret third option where you give in to the desires you’ve had all along?

toji groans deeply as he shifts slightly in his seat, but before you’re able to look down and see the hardening tent in his pants, toji shoves his index and middle fingers into your mouth, taking you by surprise. you stifle out a moan before toji sticks them deeper down your throat.

he doesn’t even have to ask you to suck on them as you instinctively start to do so, making a show of gagging on them for toji’s pleasure. you feel warm as you hear toji let out a groan as he slips in a third finger, making you choke on them. your moans vibrate against his fingers and he hums in approval of how well you’re doing with no instruction from him.

“you’re doing so well, pumpkin,” toji hums, a string of saliva connecting his fingers to your mouth as he slowly takes his fingers out of your mouth.

alright, fuck it. this sends you over the edge. your lips crash into toji’s, teeth hitting each as you both get to know the shape of each others mouths. you bite his lip and that’s all it takes for toji to pull you onto his lap and deepen the kiss with his tongue, exploring every inch of your mouth. you feel the vibrations of his groans and your hips grind into his thigh as you put your arms around his neck, pulling yourself as close as you can to him. your legs wrap around his torso as his hands grab your ass harshly. you let out a yelp into his mouth, daring not to end the kiss.

“oh you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you, pumpkin?” toji breaths against your neck after breaking the kiss. he begins to kiss your neck and you moan his name embarrassingly load.

“tojiiii~” you whine, “i need you, please~” you try to move your hips against him to feel some friction in the place you need it the most.

“shhh, you’re gonna wake m’gumi up,” he slurs in a low voice, already drunk off of your warmth. "not so fast, pumpkin", he says as he stills your hips, "i call the shots here." he grins and before you even know it, your back hits the sofa and he pulls your legs up on his shoulders.

you feel exposed, as shoko's pleated skirt does a poor job of leaving anything to the imagination, and all of a sudden, you really wish you wore your trusted boy shorts instead of your black lace thong under it. as he starts to kiss your ankles while looking deeply into your eyes, you see nothing but primal lust on his face. he lightly bites your ankle, making you slightly yelp before covering your mouth, remembering megumi upstairs.

toji's eyes wander to your sweet spot, and it's taking everything in you not to thrust your soaking core into his hungry face. "oh, is that where you want me to touch you?" he teases, his hands running down softly from your ankles to your inner thigh. your hips wiggle side to side, hoping his fingers end up grazing your aching core, but toji holds you hips down roughly. he scoots back and peppers your leg with kisses, slowly inching up and up until he's mere inches away from your panties.

he plants a wet kiss on your clothed mound and you let out a pathetic mewl as toji shoots his head up and stops dead in his tracks. "make another noise, pumpkin, and we end this right now and you go home frustrated and upset." he warns. unfortunately, this turns you on even more and your hands are over your mouth immediately, eyes shut closed, praying toji pities you and gives you some release.

you feel toji take off your panties agonizingly slowly, and your breath hitches. "oh, your panties are fully ruined. better get rid of them." toji says as he tosses them somewhere across the room.

"it's your fault..." you say, you voice a low whisper through your hands.

toji starts back at your mound again and moans into the kiss in agreement. his fingers lightly touch your core, and you shiver in anticipation. "oh, this is where your sensitive, right?" toji teases, as his fingers finally start circling the part of your delicate bud you've been aching for toji to touch. you bite your hand to prevent yourself from moaning loudly, and take deep breaths so to not make any noise.

toji starts circling your sensitive bud with his fingers, moving with your hips as you get to a rhythm that has you on cloud nine. you feel the familiar build up beginning, when toji abruptly takes his fingers away, leaving you breathless and practically whining from his lack of touch. "ohhh, don't worry, pumpkin. i just wanna taste you," he coos, before diving mouth first into your sensitive bud once more, tasting every inch of your delicate core.

this time, you're unable to hold back and your deep breaths are practically moans. you're laughing, whining, crying...you're not actually sure. you're mind is clouded by the pleasure toji's tongue is sending through your body.

toji's fingers start teasing your entrance as your hips buckle and you start grinding on his face. you're making a mess on his sofa but you don't even care, and neither does toji. "oh, toji, fuck~ that feels...soo good...fuck~" you whine. you're practically begging for his fingers inside you, and toji finally complies and inserts his finger inside you.

"please toji~", you whisper, "i need more, please, please."

"wow, someone's a bit greedy. one finger just isn't enough for a slut like you, huh?" toji chides, the vibrations of his voice going straight to your body. he inserts two more fingers, and you feel a pang of pain, which makes you yelp.

"toji~ it's too much," you cry out, unable to handle three of his large fingers inside you at once.

"oh, now it's a problem? you can take it, pumpkin." toji encourages, moving his fingers at a moderate pace while his mouth is still playing with your delicate bud. the pain slowly turns into pleasure, and the pleasure slowly turns into an inevitable build up that's starting to cloud your vision.

"toji~" you whine. "i'm getting so close, please..." you trail off, trying your hardest to lower your moans.

"please what?" toji asks, knowing full well what you wanted, and that he was the only person able to give it you. toji's member was practically begging for escape against his dark pants, but he was far too drunk on your sweet nectar. he doesn't remember the last time he tasted someone as addicting as you.

"please, can i...c-can i...?" you don't get to finish your sentence before toji groans a "yes" into your core, and the dam that had been building finally burst as you release all over toji's face.

you pant heavily as you finish, hoping you weren't too loud. toji lifts his head from between your legs and immediately darts to your lips, kissing you deeply before you can say anything. you moan into the kiss, still feeling the effects of your orgasm rippling through your sensitive body. you taste yourself in toji's kiss and you never want it to end. a whine escapes your mouth when toji's lips finally disconnect from yours, an unashamed smile playing on toji's face. "did you like that, pumpkin?" he asks.

you're still catching your breath as you nod and smile, gazing at him softly. you can't help but want to return the favor for toji, as you slowly get up and scan toji up and down. god, he's so fucking fit.

you scoot closer to toji, maintaining eye contact, and placing your hands on his upper thigh. oh my god, his legs are just pure rock hard muscle. your hands shake slightly as they make their way on top of toji's hard straining member. toji chuckles as you grasp him over his dark pants, stopping you in your tracks by grabbing your wrist and moving it away from him.

"woah, hold on there y/n. it's 11pm. a bit too late to start something now, dontcha think?" he inquires, raising his eyebrows at you.

heat rises to your cheeks and you feel so embarrassed you could combust. oh my god, wait, does he not want you to return the favor? the insecurity showed up immediately on your face, with your lips frowning and eyebrows scrunching. toji cups the side of your face endearingly and his thumb grazes your lower lip before letting it sit there.

"hey, don't give me that look. i want this. i want you but...it's late. megumi has school tomorrow and it's parent teacher night. i know you have class, too," he explains.

you pout, but not before sucking toji's thumb that was grazing your lower lip and giving it a wet kiss. "that's not fair~ i really want to return the favor toji..." your voice trails, as you already know this conversation is over. you sigh as you turn away from him and reach for your notebook and laptop on the coffee table. you get up and bend down to grab your bag and start packing your belongings and fishing out your keys.

you hear toji hum and turn around to see the gears twisting in his dark eyes that are fixated on you. wait, hold on. he's not looking at you. he's looking at your ass. and he's being so obvious and unashamed about it, too!

you blush and roll your eyes as you chide toji. "wow, so you don't want me to suck your dick but you're gonna look at my ass as i leave?"

toji laughs earnestly and the sound of his laughter makes you feel warm and relaxed inside. you could probably live the rest of your life hearing that laugh. wait, what? rest of your life?

"first off, i do want you to suck me off, pumpkin. second, am i not allowed to respectfully admire? anyway, i was thinking. maybe you come with us to the parent-teacher meeting tomorrow? you practically help the kid with his homework every other night, and i think he really sees you as someone he can trust." toji says, bringing you out of your thoughts. you notice the hidden solitude behind his eyes, and feel a pang of melancholy in your heart. you don't know much about toji and megumi's mom, and you never thought it appropriate to discuss with either one of them, so you always let it be. a part of you is curious and another part is afraid to touch such a vulnerable side to toji, fearing it may alter your relationship with him permanently.

"we can grab dinner before, too. my treat." toji winks, and you scoff. he never even makes sure there's food for you at home before he leaves, always leaving you to pay for your own dinner every night you babysit, let alone pay a meal for you.

you roll your eyes, trying to act upset, but a giggle breaks out anyway. "yeah, i'd love to." you respond genuinely.

you finish packing up your things before searching for your discarded panties in toji's living room. "looking for these?" toji teases, holding up your lacy black thong, still ruined with the mess you made earlier today.

"give 'em back, toji~" you say, trying to reach for the panties from toji, before he stuffs them in his pocket.

"i think i'll keep these actually. they need to go in the laundry anyway, might as well be here." he teases, as you pout. toji cracks an evil grin, knowing deep down you must love having to go back home without any panties in your short skirt.

and he was right, you kinda did love it. a blush creeps up to your cheeks as you shake your head in dismay. "you're so fuckin' annoying, y'know?" you say as toji interlaces his fingers with yours as he walks to you to the door.

"yeah, i know. let's see if you're still that mouthy after you choke on me tomorrow," toji says, giving you a playfully menacing look.

the cool air of the late night nips at your skin, making you shiver, but you know deep down that has more to do with thinking about all the things toji will do to your poor throat tomorrow evening. "hm, we'll see...," you say, as your breath hitches slightly. you stand up on your tippy toes to give a quick peck goodnight to toji.

you honestly should've known better because toji immediately leans forward and turns the quick kiss into a deep make out session in the chill yet humid night air. he's quick to grab your ass, and you're quick to regain your senses and break off the kiss. oh my god, what if someone saw us, you think, recalling all the girls in the neighborhood that fawn over toji and the fact that you weren't wearing panties thanks to toji.

"stop toji~ it's late like you said," you whine, wriggling out of his strong grasp. you turns you around, you back flush against him and he laughs into your neck, arms wrapping your hips tightly from behind.

he releases you but not before giving you one last squeeze. "goodnight, pumpkin."

"night, toji," you say softly as you turn around and head to your car in the driveway. you do a poor job of pulling your skirt down as low as it can possibly get without you looking incredibly stupid, and cross your arms in the cold breeze.

you hear the door close, and start up the car engine and back out, relying only on muscle memory to get you home, as you spend the entire five minute car ride thinking solely about everything that happened today. how were you ready for another release already? you make a mental note to charge your vibrator when you get back to your apartment.

just as you pulled into the drive way, you jaw fell and you remembered. oh shit wait, he still hasn't paid me.

[chqnverse]

i came across your writings recently and im obsessed!! imagine you’re straddling sub Han on his studio chair and you’re grinding against him and marking him and he’s letting out the prettiest moans and whines. He was stressed with his work before, but you made him forget 🤍

𖥻 Make me forget

♡┊ 𝐂𝐇𝐐𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ; Han Jisung

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 :: you just wanted to help your boyfriend to relieve some stress

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 :: smut ( 18+ ), sub!jisung, dom!reader, marking, fucking in a chair, reader is written with bigger thighs and wide hips in mind, stressed Jisung

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: turned out kinda passionate but oh well <3

Jisung was stressed there were many songs to write and finish but he was stuck, his brain to full to even concentrate on his current work so he texted you. His sweet girlfriend and asked if you would mind dropping by with some coffee. You being the amazing girlfriend of course said yes and not even 30 minutes later you’re here…standing between your handsome boyfriend’s legs with his hands running all over your body. Jisungs iced americano long forgotten on his desk, his mind occupied with your body the way your tight shirt made your breast seem even bigger than normal it made Jisung want to bury his head between them. But you had other plans,suddenly sitting down on his lap right on his hard dick. Your tiny skirt was making the feeling even better one layer less that separates Jisung from what he now desperately needs. You’re teasing him slowly grinding down on him making Jisung throw his head back with a desperate call of your name. Oh how pretty your boyfriend sounds calling out your name as if you weren’t already giving him pleasure and making his brain fussy.

All Jisung could think about was your warm soft body pressed against his and the feeling of your pretty cunt pressed against his dick each roll of your hips send him even close to his orgasm, his hands never leaving your body one hand suddenly grabs your hip pressing you down on him even more your panties were soaked at this point and you’re not much better than your sweet boyfriend. The friction of your wet cunt sliding against his hard length made you see stars. One of your hands gripping his soft curls while the other one was pressed against his chest using it to support yourself. Your thighs were burning from the fast movement but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop not when you’re so close to your sweet relief and not when your boyfriend was looking at you with heart eyes while moaning your name like a prayer.

You couldn’t help it and lean to kiss him passionately moving your lips against his ever so soft ones, you could taste the chapstick Jisung always uses and it only turns you on more. Jisung gasps when he feels you pretty lips agains his the way they moved ever so lovingly against his own just when he wanted to take the kiss even further he feels your lips move lower towards his jawline leaving tiny kisses on your way to his neck, when you start sucking on his neck Jisung knows he won’t last longer so he tries to warn you with little stutters of your name but you seem to know already. It wasn’t hard to tell from the way he was trying to grind up against you and the way his grip on your hip tightens even further. You were sure it would leave marks but that’s okay at lest then you would have something to remember this moment the next day.

When Jisung feels you suddenly stop sucking and your sweet voice whispering in his ear to just let go for you he couldn’t help himself but obey. The wet patch on his pants grows bigger with each passing second and you throw your head back. The sight of you sweet boyfriend cumming made you hit your own high feeling yourself clench around nothing your panties are probably completely messy by now but neither of you could bring yourself to care enjoying the blissful feeling of your shared highs.

[tachvintlogic]

Hoof Trimmers IN SPACCCCCCEEEE!!!!

Based on the post about aliens probably having more than our mere 2 sets of limbs and the post about how our domesticated animals could be unusually large and dangerous compared to other planets.

longer AO3 version: link here (for people with AO3 accounts only)

Words: 1972

Summary: The newest human crewmate's background in farming ends up being able to help a coworker with a sore, injured foot more than anyone could've predicted.

Jósűrha took a step and bit back a hiss as zir middle left leg touched the ground. Ze flinched and lifted the leg back up while zir sore front and back legs took on the extra weight. The block on the middle leg had worn away, and zir leg hasn’t gotten any better since. Now ze needed someone to help zem put a new block on. Katársmun, who put it on last time, was busy at the moment, but ze knew exactly who ze could ask.

Humans were strange with their measly two legs, so unlike most species they were perfectly capable of doing their own first-aid without help, but they were more than happy to assist their fellow sapients who couldn’t reach their back half by themselves. The ship’s newest human crewmate would have a much easier time applying the block than zir other coworkers.

“Hey Officer Mackenzie! I need your help with something.”

The ship’s new resident human turned around as ze walked toward kem, and then frowned and bent to the side looking at zir feet. “Is there something wrong with your feet?”

“Yes, actually. The block on one of my claws has worn away, and obviously I can’t put another one on myself.”

Ke bent down further to get a better look at zir painful hoof. “Yeah, I can tell block on it is barely there. It explains why you’re walking like a lame cow. Have you gotten your feet trimmed recently?”

“Well, no. There aren’t many good places that can trim Zágjós feet. Wait, how did you know I needed a trim?”

“Your feet pretty closely resemble ungulates on Earth. You see my fingernails? On ungulates, their nails are giant pads made of keratin that they walk on like your hooves. Most of the other sapients I’ve seen don’t walk on the very tip of their limbs like ungulates or yourself.” That was true. Zágjós were one of the few species that needed to get their entire feet trimmed, which is why places to do that became scarcer and scarcer the further from Zágjós space you were.

“You seem to know a lot about feet.”

“Well, I used to work on a cow and sheep farm on Earth. A lot of our domesticated livestock are actually ungulates.” Having livestock species was quite common among spacefaring species. It was considered an important part of the path to FTL technology. While humans didn’t have the largest livestock species, they did have the largest livestock relative to their size.

“So do you think you can help me put a new cushion on?”

“Sure.”

They walked to zir quarters, where ze had a suspension bed (as zir species slept standing up), personal effects, and a basic first-aid kit specialized for zir species. Mackenzie opened the med kit and pulled out a block without ze having to tell kem what one looks like and a hoof trimming knife that came standard with the kit (not that ze knew how to use it).

“So does the block go on with glue or--?”

You remove the cap on the sticky side and then hold it on the claw for 30 seconds to set.”

“Alright, can you get in the suspension bed? It would be easier if you were standing without putting weight on your feet.”

“Sure.” Ze got in zir suspension bed and immediately felt relief with zir feet not entirely on the ground anymore. Mackenzie took some time to improvise a stand to hold up zir hoof and keep it still. It was a similar setup to the one at a trimmer (not that ze had been to one in a while).

“Wow, your hooves look…exactly like a cow’s hoof.”

“Should I be offended? Isn’t that livestock?”

“Oh, no. It’s just that I spent a lot of time trimming cow hooves back on the farm to keep them healthy. Hell, your hoof trimming knife looks about the same. It’s sharp on the sides with the hook on the end. I’m assuming I can remove the block with the knife, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Mackenzie started trimming away at the block, muttering this would be much easier if ke had a grinder. When the old block was gone, Mackenzie hummed and ze turned zir neck to see what ke was doing. Ke was pursing kes lips in a way that zir emotional recognition course in diversity training told zim meant the human did not like what ke was looking at.

“Something wrong?”

“What does the pain feel like?”

“Kinda like a pressure in my hoof.”

“Sounds like an abscess with some detached horn above it. One your bad claw, there’s some definitely detached horn at the heel of your outer claw and a white line defect near the toe, or at least it would be if the resemblance to a cow hoof isn’t just superficial. The wall horn is also thicker than it should be on a cow, which could be overgrowth or just what hooves of your species are supposed to look like. There’s also some slight bruising on the inner portion of the claw you had a block on, and it has small crack between the wall horn and the sole horn which could turn into a serious white line defect if it isn’t taken care of.”

Ke put the foot back down. “Hold on, I need to do some research on Zágjós feet.”

Mackenzie left and ze tried really hard to relax and ignore the pain in zir foot until Mackenzie came back with the captain. Mackenzie looked excited.

“So good news! Your feet are extremely similar to cow’s feet. The only main difference is that your foot is supposed to be held 5° steeper.”

“So?”

“So I can help your foot!” Mackenzie pulled zir middle left foot back on the stand and started slicing away at the bad claw with the trimming knife. It hurt, feeling the trimming knife put more pressure on the claw that felt like it was about to burst.

“Mackenzie requested that you have some time off because you’re having trouble walking,” said the captain.

“Yeah, there aren’t a lot of places to get my hooves trimmed at our ship’s recent stops.”

“Well, tell me next time our ship routes force you to go without care or routine maintenance. And that goes for all crew so this kind of thing never happens again.”

“Thanks captain, I—” Ze gasped as the pain in zir feet suddenly lifted. The pressure inside the hoof was gone! Ze turned zir neck around and saw Mackenzie wiping pus off kes face.

“What happened?” asked the captain.

“Well, I found the abscess. There was a lot of pus in there. Do you feel better?”

“Yes! That is so much better!”

“Let me see,” said the captain, walking behind Mackenzie. “Stars, that was under your foot!?”

“Yeah,” said Mackenzie, “it’s worse than it looks, too. You see this dark hoof horn above where I opened the abscess just on the border? It got darker as I thinned it out, so it’s not pigment. It means there’s a cavity under there, and all this horn is detached and needs to be removed,” ke explained as ke lifted the detached horn around the abscess and cut it off in circular cuts with the hook of the knife, revealing more pus and opening the hole.

After just a few cuts, ke revealed the abscess stretched the entire width of the sole horn, and then ke started shaving down the horn between the abscess and the heel to remove the bulk of it.

“Now that I’ve revealed the abscess,” ke continued to explain, “I know how much I can shave off. Fortunately, it seems to be only filled with pus. I haven’t found any lesions or ulcers. It’s just a giant cavity.”

“What could’ve caused it?”

“Probably an accident,” ke said, “could’ve bumped the hoof against something or turned too sharply on a corner. With regular trimming, it could’ve been nipped in the bud before it was a problem, but without it, it just got worse and worse.”

“And at the heel, there’s this detached horn I can just lift up, which tells me,” ke said as ke put the knife under the horn and cut down, “that it goes all the way to the abscess.”

“That’s the entire foot,” said the captain.

“Yep,” said Mackenzie, “can’t imagine trying to walk on that.”

“I don’t need to imagine,” said Jósűrha.

Mackenzie started trimming the good hoof, getting rid of the crack and modeling out the area with the bruised horn to take some of the weight off that area, and then searching through the med kit to find something to help grind the tips of the toes to bring both claws to the same length. The “grinder” at the bottom of the med kit wasn’t as good as the grinder ke used to use on cows on the farm, which ke was more than happy to complain about.

Once it was suitably prepared, ke put on a different, curved block that would avoid the bruised horn area on the good claw. Ke pressed it into the claw for 30 seconds to make sure the glue bond was secure.

“So given your foot’s condition. I’m going to have to cut most of your ship duties. Rest up and heal. Understood?”

“Yes captain.”

“And Mackenzie, you’re doing a great job, even though it’s not the job you were hired for.”

“Thanks, captain,” ke said, nodding.

“You know, speaking of routine care important for the health and comfort of our officers, Katársmun has a condition that prevents xe from shedding xis coat when xe should. You wouldn’t know how to do a full body shave, would you?

“Hmm, if it’s like shearing a sheep, then I could take to xem about it. I’d want to take a course on it and get more familiar Katársmun’s species first if xe doesn’t need shearing now.”

“Of course, it’s just something I wanted to mention. Well, as you were. I’ll call the cleaning bot to take care of the mess,” said the captain gesturing to the pus and cut horn on the floor.

As the captain left, ke stopped pressing into the block and tested its fit to make sure it was secure, then ke dressed the bad claw with supplies from the med kit. “Okay, I’m going to put your foot down. Try to stand on it in a way that feels natural.” Ke put zir foot down and checked the angle. It was steep enough for a cow but not enough for a Zágjós. Ke pulled the foot back on the stand and started cutting the block to adjust the angle.

When ke put the hoof down again, the angle was perfect, and Jósűrha didn’t feel any pain. It was almost unreal after feeling that pressure in zir hoof for so long. “Now for the other claws since you did say you haven’t gotten a trim in a while. I’m start with the back left.”

Jósűrha didn’t have a way to argue with that. “That’s fine,” ze said as Mackenzie moved to the back left foot and started trimming. “There’s a little bruising on the inner sole area that I can model out, and some overgrowth on the toes. Remember to tell me if there’s any soreness or pain.”

“Sure. That foot feels fine.”

“Good. It’s nice working on someone who can talk to me for a change.”

“People are better clients than cows are, aren’t they?”

“Well, yeah, and people are also polite enough to not start pooping while I’m doing their back legs.”

Ze suppressed a chitter and tried to keep zir foot very still as ke worked. Yes, asking the human crewmember was the best choice.

[bettysupremacy]

congrats on the jobbbbb!!!! you’re gonna be the cutest ice cream scooper evaaa (close tie to Steve) 🍦

Could I please request something where you’re the cute new hiree at scoops and Steve has to teach you the ropes while crushing a little (are we sensing a theme?)

thank you beautiful I loved writing this he’s such a nerd

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily, leaning his weight onto the counter. “And this is where we make the cones.”

“Got it.”

“You might think ‘how hard could this be?’, well, you’d be surprised-“

“It was only hard for you!” Robin yells from behind the counter.

Steve laughs, welcoming the tease. “Yes, she’s totally right. It really was only hard for me.”

He shines in the fluorescent light of the sailor themed shop. The lights are actually loud, louder in your nervousness than you assume for him. His hair is big, swooping over and curling at the nape of his neck. He wears no hat, but you can assume why.

“Would you like her to teach you?”

You shake your head adamantly. Steve’s cute. Really cute. You’d seen him around town before, glimpses of a boy seemingly untouched by the hurdles of life, but you hadn’t known he’d worked here. Robin had given you the application as she had laid in your bed. Music played, the windows were down, the warm summery air drifted through the windows smelling of grass, and the both of you had collapsed silently on your twin.

“Please.” She had said, and you’d agreed.

But you didn’t know Steve worked here as well. Maybe Robin held that on purpose. You’d been to his house once. Once, for a party. It wasn’t lame and neither was his home. Tall ceilings, pretty staircases and family portraits. Why did he work here for $3 an hour? Steve doesn’t seem to know either.

“I’m very clumsy — I burn myself a lot — please ignore it.”

“I promise.”

He teaches you the mechanics of the waffle machine. It’s really simple actually, a lot simpler than he made it seem. The batter is pre-made, shipped once a week and held in the small fridge they desperately need to upgrade. Pour it in, wait 30 seconds, flip, and wait thirty seconds again. He’d burned himself pulling it out, hissing, but never faltering.

It’s golden and warm, crunchy and smelling softy of vanilla. He holds it until it’s no longer hot, and then hands it to you.

“Here,” he shrugs. “Eat your first creation.”

“Really?”

“It’s already touched my hands.” He smiles innocently. “I can’t tarnish our A+ health inspection.”

Your smile is shy as you grab it. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

You bite it carefully, tearing off a piece for him to eat. He takes it from your nimble fingers, eyeing the blue nail polish that cracks on your fingertips.

“So..” Steve’s awkward. “I heard you’ve known Robin awhile?”

You break off another piece of and pop it on your mouth. “Definitely awhile.”

“She’s cool,“ He smiles fondly. “Or whatever, but yeah.”

“Yeah.” You laugh a little at his redirection.

“Also,” he adds messily. “They say you have to wear the hat but..” he leans in to whisper cheekily. “screw company policy.”

You laugh loudly, startled at his closeness.

He goes to say something, pink lips parting before he’s cut off by Robin. All he can get out his a huff a breath and dully you notice you’re staring at his lips. You think he’s noticed too.

“Y/N!” Robin yells from the ice cream stand. “Get out here and let me teach you the scooper!”

You turn, smiling in the direction of your short haired friend.

“Guess I’ve gotta quit slacking.” You murmur.

“See you soon.” He’s remorseful.

“See you soon.” You amuse a little, walking towards the swinging door. He walks too.

“Right,” He bumps into you, laughing nervously. “Sorry.”

You smile, talking over him. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He cringes.

The door swings behind you, letting glimpse of laughter from the bustling store through. He sighs, palm to his eyes.

Yeah, he’s pretty cute.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hiya! It's me! I've been sending you so many asks that I wouldn't be surprised if you gave me a restraining order!

I made an account so I can actually participate in some of your rp things- if that's okay with you of course.

I sent you the ideas for the succubus, deadpool x wolverine and bimbo!au's, I sent others but I'd need to go through my memory, which would take all night.

Anyway- I have a new au idea for you! I think you'll like this. It's basically a gothic vampire!au.

I'm going to attach screen shots because I've already written it out and for some reason Tumblr doesn't let you copy and paste (it's already 1am where I am and I don't want to have to write this out all again, so I'm really sorry if this'll be annoying for you 😭).

Continuation--

Adam: it's rude to stare, you know. How did a kid get in here?

Lucifer jumped at his voice: I-I'm not a kid!- I'm 30 years old!

Adam: really dude? What are you? 5"3?... you didn't get the long straw when it came to genes, huh? See what I did there?

Lucifer sighs as the man chuckles to himself.

Lucifer: uh... that's... not important- a-are you the owner?

Adam stares at Lucifer for a few seconds before taking a sip from his glass. Lucifer watches his every move, he feels like prey- are those fangs??

Adam: I guess you can say that.. my names Adam. Even though I think the asshole who broke into my house should introduce themselves first- but I'm in a good mood today!

Adam stands and pulls a chair infront of him.

Adam: Here man, have a seat, might as well make yourself comfortable.

The way Adam smiled and watched his every move made Luicfer shiver. He walked as calmy as he could to the chair infront of Adam. He sits, eyes never leaving Adams deep red ones.

Lucifer: I'm Lucifer- and I apologize for the breaking and entering. It's uh, not the best first impression.

Adam: wait- Lucifer? Like the Devil? That's sick. And I'm not one for first impressions, but you've certainly made an entrance, buddy.

Lucifer: Yeah, like the Devil, blame my father for that one-

Adam: I ain't judging man! I think it's cool, everyone has such boring names these days, it's nice to be surprised, nothing surprises me much anymore.

Adam runs his clawed hand through his hair, eyes never leaving Lucifers face. He notices as his eyes travel down to his chest, where his shirt has opened a bit more. Adam smirks, leaning forward, giving Lucifer a better view.

Adam: I would offer you a drink, but I think you want something else~

----

That's all I have! I hope this seems interesting to you 😭

Feel free to continue it, I'll try and participate to! It would be my first time doing these rp type things, so I'm sorry if I'm a bit all over the place lol

Okay- bye!

Ahhh!! Thank you for all your amazing ideas friendo! This too is amazing 🤩

And yes of course you can participate in the rp blogs! What account is it?

-

Lucifer felt a little called out, this man was so good looking he felt like he was trapped in a trance.

Lucifer: I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-

Adam: Pfft it's fine, I get it. I know I'm hot shit and I don't mind you looking. In fact.

Adam leaned in closer until his hot breath ghosted over Lucifer's face.

Adam: I wouldn't mind you doing more than just looking.

He grinned at the way the blonde man's face turned bright red at the implication. Humans were always so easy to work up. And man this one was easy on the eyes as well.

It's been a while since Adam had a visitor. Even longer since he had a rendezvous.

[brooooswriting]

Hello can I request a fic with Sam carpenter x reader where the reader is seriously an idiot and just follows Sam everywhere like a lost puppy and they’re already in a relationship you can feel free to add anything I just thing this trope is so cute

Stupid, but cute

Sam Carpenter x reader, Tara Carpenter x reader (platonic)

“I really don’t know how you got into college” Tara laughed, you did too. Both of you were tumbling over from laughter while Sam watched from the couch with a grin. You honestly also didn’t quite know how you’ve gotten into college, it was actually more your athletic skills that got you in. Tara was nice enough to try and tutor you so you’d do okay in your exams but doing literature with you was more of a comedy act than anything else.

Sam always thought that you were pretty cute and good looking, at least until she finally talked to you. At first, she thought you were being rude and made fun of her but Anika explained that you weren’t, you just weren’t really smart. You didn’t get sarcasm or irony, it took you a bit longer to get jokes and sometimes your stupidness came of as rude. But when Sam got to know you more she realized one thing: you were actually a sweetheart, a a bit stupid one, but a sweetheart nonetheless.

You often followed Sam around like a lost puppy, it was no surprise to the older girl that you had a concentration deficit which made it hard for you to concentrate when it was loud, crowded or if there was anything that could have your attention.

It was the worst at parties, everything was screaming at you when you walked into that frat house and it didn’t take long for you to loose your group and especially Sam. After a second of panic you decided to roam the house thinking that you’d find her somewhere.

And you did, after 30 minutes and talking to a lot of people you finally found her, in fact also looking for you. “Sam, look, they gave me dextrose candy” you grinned as you held the small see through bag up to show it to her, your smile reaching your eyes until Mindy bursted out laughing. “Y/n, honey, those are drugs” Sam had a comforting smile on her face while your smile sank, Mindy and Chad were still laughing their asses off while Anika and Tara tried to hold back so you wouldn’t feel too stupid. “But they said it was candy” your voice was small, child-like, “did they wink at you while saying that?” Anika asked you causing you to nod, “then that was a code for drugs” she explained with a comforting hand on your shoulder.

After the others came down you guys split up, Tara went to get a drink, Anika and Mindy sat down, Chad found Ethan and you, well you just followed Sam around until she sat on a couch. You immediately sat down next to her, her hands wrapping around your neck and pulling you into a kiss.

Some time later Sam went to the bathroom, while you decided to stay on the couch as it made it easier for Sam to find you. You were just looking around, being completely in your own world when Anika came to you. “We need you” she told you and grabbed your hand pulling you towards some stairs, “Tara’s drunk and that guy won’t let her go” she explained causing you to tense.

Yes, you were extremely stupid, no question. But you had different qualities, you were strong and extremely protective of your friend group and there was no way someone was taking advantage of the smaller carpenter.

“Hey asshole, Tara’s good down here” you called over the music causing him and Tara to turn around. “Y/n” Tara mumbled barely standing on her own feet. “She’s fine. Now go mind your own business” he laid a provocating hand on your shoulder causing you to flip. You pulled on his arm so he was falling down the stairs, your hand immediately connecting with his face. “Leave her the fuck alone”

By now Sam was there and helped Tara up, “y/n, enough. Let’s go” she called out after your third punch to his face. You stood up with a grunt and followed her outside.

Later you two cleaned Tara up and went to bed.

Two days later Tara decided to help you again as a thank you. “So this is your homework for romantic literature?” She asked you and you nodded proudly. “You seem proud of your work” she stated with a smile, this would be great. “Yes, I think I really understood what he wanted to say” Sam grinned as she sat on the couch, reading some book while listening to your conversation. “Alright”

After around a minute Tara was, again, tumbling over with laughter. “Please tell me this is a joke” she got out between laughs, you looked at her confused. “Y/n, you literally wrote: ‘he’s saying that he likes her boobs’” she laughed out, suddenly Sam laughing too. “Hey, that’s what he’s saying” you protested still sure of your work, “he is expressing love for her body but you can’t write that he likes her boobs” Tara was still giggling but continued, “I really see why you fell for her Sam, she’s a helpless romantic”

The older girl laughed and walked towards you while you poured, “that’s just rude” you mumbled. Sam walked up to you and kissed your head, “well, I think she’s cute” your pout turned into a smile. Turning your head, Sam gave you a kiss which gave you new motivation.

After around 2 more hours Tara finally made something out of your work that you could give to your professor. “Alright guys I’m gonna go to the store so we can cook later” Sam said and walked out of the apartment, you immediately following.

Funnily, she only noticed when you were in front of the apartment, “babe, what are you doing?”

“Going to the store with you?” “Why?” “Why not?” Sam laughed and grabbed your hand as she started to walk towards the shop. In the shop you pushed the cart, putting in sweets and other unhealthy stuff while she put it all back. “Can we have this cereal?” You asked with puppy eyes, “no” she only answered looking at her list. “Pleeeaaaassseee, Tara likes it too. Come on” you whined causing her to sigh but agree. After a small celebration you kissed her cheek and went back behind the cart.

“Baby” you stretched the word already causing her to sigh, this couldn’t be good. “Can we have Dino nuggies?” You asked, “no, definitely no” she answered as she tried to look everywhere but your eyes. “Please, we can have them with mashed potatoes and broccoli” you had a small pout on her lips that made her break. “You’re a child” she told you as she went to pack the ingredients into cart.

“What are we eating for dinner?” Tara asked as you came back, Excitement radiating off of you, “Dino nuggets” you exclaimed, Tara’s jaw dropping. “You got Sam to buy that?” She was shocked, she never got those. “This is only because of what happened two days ago, don’t get used to it” Sam intervened causing you to laugh.

Later that night you and Sam laid in bed cuddling, “Sam?” You mumbled into her neck, “yes baby?” Her hand was rubbing over your arm. “I’m sorry that I’m stupid, I know it makes everything a lot harder” her heart broke when you said that causing her to turn towards you. “Y/n, I love you the way you are and you have so many different qualities. I mean just look at how you protected Tara! You are the biggest sweetheart I know, so don’t say stuff like that alright?” You nodded and leaned in to kiss the older girl.

You weren’t smart, but you were a great person nonetheless and you had a family that loved you more than anything else.

[slxtarchive]

PAIN STROKES ❥ MADZ ARGY

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. when madeline’s job is to write a piece on a famous artist she doesn’t realize it’s who hurt her all those years ago allowing old feelings to resurface and turning entranced souls into something much more complicated.

𝐫𝐞𝐪��𝐞𝐬𝐭. yes, you can find it here <-

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! enemies to lovers, ex best friend trope, alternate reality, artist!femreader x journalist!madz!, happy ending!

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. i’m living for these heavily plotted fics, ty for the request! & yes the title is on purpose :) if there are any typos or grammar errors have mercy on me … i just started my winter classes! but here’s a long one for uuu

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 3.8k +

“okay everyone! we’re on a time crunch. we just got word that our rivals are doing pieces on musicians so we’ve decided to assign you an artist for your excerpts and…” madeline’s boss looked down at her notepad. “i have here miss argy for the feature piece.” she announces and everyone congratulates madeline who is super excited.

“holy shit… thank you!” she smiled, beaming at the news.

her boss nodded. “of course! your hard were has truly paid off madz. your feature piece will be on…” she then looked back down to her notepad before pointing out the name. “yn yln!”

as soon as madz heard that name her heart dropped. she felt her mouth go dry. yn. all those unresolved feelings were starting to simmer up each second that passed but she recovered trying to keep her face neutral with a fake smile and nod.

your boss smiled and read from her notepad. “wonderful artist based in new york! ive seen a lot about her and i'm sure you’ll enjoy it! you’ll be responsible for the interviews as well as the cover photo. we have already talked to miss yln about the interview so all you need to do is take notes, take a couple of feature photo shots, and write the piece.”

she gulped nodding before returning to her work which was now turned into tracking yn down and actually having a conversation with her.

meanwhile, when yn got an email from the said office that madeline worked at letting her know what date and time the interview was. it was on a friday over dinner and she was told to dress formally.

the day came and madeline had to reach out to her personally confirming the time for the dinner.

to ynyln@gmail.com

from madelineargypub@gmail.com

Hi Yn, hope you’re doing well. I will be at Oceana for our reservation at 7:30 PM. It is midtown. A quick search and you won’t miss it. Hope to see you there.

Regards, Madeline Argy.

yn saw the email from the paper that told her about a feature she’d be in so she hurriedly and excitedly clicked on it not prepared for what was about to cover your screen.

holy shit. madeline? she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. her childhood best friend was the one that was going to be interviewing her — writing about her.

she gulped, her mouth suddenly became dry as nervousness settled in her stomach. she thought about all the possibilities but one thought stayed through all of them. what if she hates me?

she felt her eyes sting so she ultimately decided to close her computer shut. if she didn’t look at it the feeling would go away. no… it didn’t.

she paced around the room. today she was going to see madeline. how would she survive? she thought. it felt like the end of the world but reluctantly when the time came, she got dressed formally and found herself taking her time. she wanted to look her very best before looking at herself in the mirror and heading out the door.

her heels clicked as she made her way inside the restaurant giving madeline’s name to one of the hosts before they guided her to the correct table. she turned a few corners to a more secluded and fancier area of the restaurant before gracing her eyes over madeline’s figure.

yn’s thoughts swarmed. she looked absolutely beautiful. the same yet so different. her hair was longer now and face more flushed than yn remembered. she thought it was her normal but madeline was just incredibly nervous as was she.

yn continued to survey madeline noticing she had the daintiest jewelry on as she scanned the menu trying to distract herself.

yn slowly approached her allowing the host to announce your arrival. “ms. argy? waiting on ms. yln correct?”

she locked eyes with the ground before slowly looking up at you. “um.. yes. thank you.” she smiled politely at him before moving her eyes to yn’s.

for her, it was like time stopped. she admired the way yn slowly changed into who she was meant to be even though it hurt her in the process.

the awkward tension slowly seeped in as yn sat down bidding the host goodbye.

the both of them were quiet for a moment. yn didn’t know whether or not she should speak first. she felt the guilt rise in her chest but decided to speak up. she bit her lip before opening her mouth. “how have you been?”

her voice was soft and cautious. she was afraid to look up but when she did she knew she had a good reason. “how have i been?” madeline repeated, her voice laced with hostility. yn felt small as madeline’s eyes glared at her. “are you fucking serious right now yn?” yn could tell she was mad. not even mad — upset.

even though it’s been a few years since the both of them saw each other, yn remembered everything about her. the both of them knew madeline couldn’t ever hide how she truly felt from yn. well, besides what resided deep within.

yn saw how her eyes started to water and drifted away from her own. she was lost in her thoughts. in that day.

one voicemail from yn

“hi madz um.. dont be upset with me please but i’ve decided to move to new york. i didn’t tell you because um well, i don’t want you to make any decisions based on mine. you know where you’re going in life madz… i dont and thats why im here. i’m here to find out what exactly that is. please, see where im coming from i… i love you. gotta go. talk soon.”

the way her heart shattered. she quickly called yn back with tears pooling in her eyes. the phone rang… and rang. voicemail. she tried again. and again… and again. voicemail. she tried so many times but no answer. yn had ghosted her.

madeline didn’t hear from her ever again, until now. madeline’s lower lip quivered. “i…” she tried to speak but the words only came out like a whisper. she sighed taking a deep breath. “you could’ve at least said goodbye.”

yn pressed her lips together harshly trying to keep herself from crying. “i…im sorry madz.”

madeline immediately shook her head. “no… no you — you can’t call me that.” hearing that nickname again brought her back to all those years ago.

yn clearly saw the distress on madeline’s face so she obliged. “i’m sorry madeline.”

madeline furrowed her eyes looking around the room before speaking once again. “why’d you do it? you never called. a voicemail. that’s all you left. a voicemail yn. no calls no texts. nothing. why?” madeline’s heart was racing as she confronted the situation head-on.

yn took a deep breath. so they were doing this now. finally. “i did it because i felt it was the best for the both of us madeline. i… i had my own personal reasons but that was the main one.”

madeline immediately seemed confused. “wh..what?”

yn looked around the room trying to blink her tears away. “you were always so sure of yourself madz… madeline. so stable. i wasn’t. i… i felt like i needed to surround myself with a new environment and figure out what i was supposed to do. who i was supposed to be.” yn voice faltered a little before continuing. “i… i didn’t want to hold you back.”

madeline’s scoffed lowly. “didn’t want to hold me back… that? that is your excuse for completely ghosting me?” the tone of anger and hurt laced in her voice was apparent.

“i…” yn had nothing else to say. she knew madeline had every right to be upset but she couldn’t tell her the real reason why she had moved. the raw truth. “can we please just… do this interview.”

madeline sighed. “unbelievable. so you’re just not going to explain? like at all?”

yn stayed quiet.

madeline’s eyes shed one single tear. “do you even care about how much you hurt me, yn? how you completely shattered my heart?”

yn looked up at madeline seeing the vulnerability she was showing. madeline never used to be this way. “of course, i care madeline. it wasn’t like that.” yn placed a hand on her head feeling the stress get to her.

“then how was it yn? madeline shot back. “a voicemail yn. that shitty voicemail was all i got after years of friendship. years.” her fists were clenched.

yn took a breath in from her nose. “like i said, i thought it would be easier for the both of us. i was thinking about you!”

madeline shook her head. “no. you thought about yourself. it would be easier for you.” she corrected. “you have no idea how hard it was waking up everything to realize you were really gone. thinking that at the end of the day, i didn’t matter to you.”

yn felt like madeline was putting words in her mouth. “you think it was easy for me? i had to leave everything behind madeline — everything.” yn’s eyes started to water. “this town, my family — you. i couldn’t explain it without making it worse…”

yn looked down not wanting to see the disappointment on madeline’s face any longer.

madeline poked her cheek with her tongue. “so you decided to just disappear?” her voice cracked. “you don’t get to decide what’s good or bad for me yn. that’s not fair that you took that choice away from me.” her voice was shaky, madeline hated the vulnerability she was experiencing right now.

“i was scared of everything madeline. scared that if i told you what i was doing you’d talk me out of it. scared that if i didn’t go i would be giving up following me dream and just being who i wanted to be. sacred of… just…” yn hesitated catching herself quickly. “of everything.” she said shortly.

madeline’s expression softened noticing the end but too focused on what yn said in the beginning. “i’d never hold you back yn. i would’ve supported you through everything. that’s what a best friend does.” her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

yn bit her lip with a sigh. “i know that now.” she said quietly, her voice laced with guilt and regret. “i was just so wrapped up in my own fears that i couldn’t see how selfish i was. i… i’ve regretted everything since then madeline.”

they both fell silent, the weight of their pain wafting through the air. madeline quickly looked at yn and for a split second, it was like no one else was in the room. she noticed the hurt look on yn’s face and wanted to just wipe it away. she hated that yn felt like this.

the same thing went for yn. she hated how she made madeline feel. that she was the cause of her distress and heartache. she just wanted to fix it — mend it. she’d do anything for her.

“you should’ve trusted me yn. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to do. was to support you and have you trust. especially since we’ve known each other forever.” madeline spilled her thoughts.

yn nodded. “i know im so sorry madeline. i’m so fucking sorry.” yn’s voice sounded genuinely devastated but true.

madeline felt conflicted. she wanted to forgive yn so badly. she couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her and she didn’t know why. “i… i know but you can’t just apologize and think things will go back to the way they were.” she bit her cheek.

yn nodded. “i know and i understand that wholeheartedly but… if you’ll just let me try. please, madeline. let me try to prove to you how sorry i am.”

and that’s what she did.

yn called madeline and texted her every day after that. some of the conversations were due to madeline’s feature about yn but most of the time it was either catching up or talking about random things like they used to.

one day, yn was texting madeline when she had an idea.

to madeline:

come to my show, please. i want you to see my art. all of it is inspired by my true and raw feelings.

madeline thought about it.

from madeline:

okay, i will. it would also be really good for the feature piece.

yn was excited for madeline to see her work but also extremely nervous. most of her pieces displayed her true feelings and she was so afraid that the harder one looked at her art the more likely it would show who she really was.

yn shook it off continuing to get the gallery ready. she put her work in the designated spots so that they all correlated in order while madeline was back at her hotel getting ready.

yn was wearing a double denim with a white button-up under the denim jacket and doc marten shoes to bring it together. she fiddled with the buttons as the gallery opened and she awaited madeline’s arrival.

finally, as she was watching the door, madeline strolled in wearing an all-navy blue outfit with tights and classy loafers. madeline took in the scene. the room was in low lighting with paintings all over the walls. the gallery gave a cozy feeling to it which madeline loved. madeline noticed yn from the corner of her eye but decided to take out her journal and pretend to be busy.

yn took a deep breath and let madeline be. she made herself busy talking to different people about her work never getting too deep. she thanked everyone as they came by to congratulate her. in the midst of all that, madeline couldn’t keep her eyes off yn. she found her eyes drifting from a piece of art, then to yn, then another one, then yn again. her heart beating quickly as she tried to rip her eyes away from the beautiful face as admirers surrounded her.

she began to walk around surveying each piece when one caught her eye. her chest tightened as the picture depicted what looked like rain twisting in a woman. a woman who was huddled in the middle. it was like a storm but in the end, the storm was the woman.

she didn’t like how her chest tightened when she looked at the piece. she was breathing slowly trying to decipher what this meant but came to the conclusion that it meant as it made her feel. her mind immediately went to yn, wondering if this was a depiction of how she felt when she left.

a minute later she felt a tap on her shoulder, “you okay over here?” yn’s expression was worried.

madeline composed herself before nodding. “yeah of course, just taking it all in.”

yn smiled before speaking. “yeah it’s definitely a lot but i’m really glad you’re here.”

madeline paused before speaking. “are you? because sometimes it feels like you’re just tolerating me.”

yn paused confused at the sudden change. “what? of course i am madeline. that not fair.”

madeline scoffed. “oh but it is! you left for five years and you’re acting like everything is perfectly fine. like nothing ever happened. why? is it because you’re a huge artist now and i’m the one that has to write for you?” madeline spoke out of pure impulsivity. she didn’t know why she was saying all these hurtful things but she did.

yn crossed her arms looking around to make sure no one was being nosy. “i told you my reasoning! we talked about it. i’m not trying to act like im better than you? that — i can’t believe you think that.” her heart raced feeling attacked. “you know i didn’t invite you to write for me, okay? it wasn’t my choice. i took the opportunity they offered me. if they had told me you would be writing it i would’ve politely declined and no, not because i’d didn’t want to see you.”

yn was breathless trying to defend herself and explain without sounding too harsh.

madeline’s breathing picked up still caught in the heat of the moment. “yeah? well, that still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been acting like everything is back to normal. like everything is fine when it’s not. i see through all this. through your paintings. people praise you but i know what these paintings show yn.” yn’s stare faltered as she looked away not wanting to feel vulnerable in that moment. “and the way that you’re refusing to make eye contact with me shows me that there’s more than just leaving because it was ‘better for us’.”

in that moment, yn felt there was nothing more to do then to come clean. to tell madeline how she truly felt and even though her heart was about to beat out of her chest she decided to take a deep breath and just try. “you don’t understand. yes, i left my career for different reasons but the main reasons were because of… of you.”

madeline froze. “w-what?” her throat closing on itself. she didn’t know what the weight of your words meant just yet but as she saw your eyes move to your lips for a split second, she felt she knew.

yn sighed. “please, let’s just not do this now.” she begged as she looked around paranoid.

madeline shook her head. “no, we’re doing this now. i’ve waited too long. what do you mean you moved because of me yn?”

yn bit her lip feeling conflicted. she was really going to do this. her jaw tightened before relaxing. “i left because… because i thought that i needed to get away from the way i felt about you.” she bit her cheek watching as madeline’s face showed all kinds of emotions.

madeline was confused. “what are you… what are you talking about?” she gulped dryly.

yn looked away not being able to handle madeline’s eyes on her. “i loved you yn. more than a best friend should have.” the tears finally came down. “it… it scared the shit out of me. so i thought if i chose to leave… to move here then i could — i could just forget about it and start over.”

the silence that followed after yn’s confession was deafening. she felt overstimulated with the chatter in the background.

madeline looked around scanning all the other paintings noticing how each piece of art seemed to represent her feelings in some way. she then noticed one particular piece. one of two figures it looked like — two shadows. they were together but like the other one, they looked stuck in the midst of a storm. the only thing holding them back was the rain and barriers of the wind. only one of the shadows looked clear and not connected to the storm. the other one was a part of it.

in that moment madeline felt some type of way. like the weight of yn’s words finally clicked for her and to that her heart jumped. she wasn’t nervous or afraid, she felt … relieved.

madeline looked back at yn who was trying to hold back more tears from falling. she spoke quietly and softly to her. “you… loved me?”

“of course i loved you.. i was in love with you.” yn whispered. “i… you don’t have to say anything now. i’ve got to go. will you be here when i come back?” the glimmer of hope in yn’s voice had madeline’s heart jump.

madeline did nothing but nod still trying to process what was said.

later on that evening the gallery finally closed. it was a successful day for yn. she sold a few pieces and got a lot of recognition for her excellent work. she closed up the doors and went to the back where she hoped madeline was.

as she walked through she spotted her looking at one of the paintings. it was one that yn felt was her more vulnerable ones. the raw emotion that she displayed on the canvas was recognized by everyone, especially madeline.

yn didnt notice she was holding her breath until she let it go. the soft sound alerting madeline yn was back. she turned toward her acknowledging her painting. “it’s beautiful.”

yn nodded thanking her quietly. she then spoke up once more, “thank you for staying.”

madeline shifted her stance so that she was fully turned toward yn. “earlier… when you said you left because you loved me…”

yn was quick to interrupt her. “i’m sorry… i shouldn’t have said that. i don’t want to make things harder than they already are.”

madeline stepped forward taking yn’s hands into hers. “hey, no. you can’t take it back. not now, not anymore. i…” she let out a shaky breath before making direct eye contact with you. “i think i loved you too yn.”

yn’s breathing hitched, her eyes searching over madeline’s face. “madeline… i—”

“this whole time yn. i wasn’t mad because you left… i think — i think i was upset because i lost you.” she looked down furrowing her eyebrows. “i didn’t know what i was feeling but it was like as soon as i would come to terms with it … you had already left. i never knew how to handle it and then you were gone.”

yn stood there letting madeline get her feelings across but as she finished she found herself naturally gravitating toward her. she was so close she practically could feel madeline’s short breaths and body heat come into contact with her skin.

yn squeezed madeline’s hands in hers. “i thought leaving would fix things and erase the feelings i had for you but they didn’t. i’ve never stopped loving you, madz.”

madeline’s breathing stopped. “you don’t get to run this time.” her voice softly cut through the silence.

yn shook her head. “i’m not running.” her voice was just as soft. “not anymore.”

madeline had a slight smile as her hand reached out to rest on yn’s cheek. yn leaned against it loving the soft feeling of her skin on hers. madeline stepped closer as she noticed yn wasn’t planning on stepping back. she took that opportunity to move one step closer closing the distance between them and locking their lips together.

their kiss was slow but so full of all that held up emotion. full of years of unspoken feelings, full of their past memories, of their buried emotions. they came through all at once.

yn’s hands found their way to her face before madeline’s hands grabbed yn’s waist and pulled her closer. they melted right into each other just taking each other in and for the first time in years, their pain seemed to simmer into the air, carrying that weight off both of their shoulders. replacing that was their warm but fragile emotions and feelings for each other.

when she broke apart madeline rested her head on yn’s forehead as yn spoke up. “i’m so sorry for everything.” her breathing was shaky.

madeline nodded. “i know. we’ll figure everything out.” she smiled pecking yn’s forehead. “together.”

© slxtarchive

[spotsandsocks]

So many choices!! They all sound amazing!! I think I'll have to go with...

🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌

🧠🧠🧠🧠🧠

😧😧😧😧😧

😈😈😈😈😈

Happy writing!! 🥰

Hi thanks for getting me typing! I’m having so many ideas!!!

🛏️

Buck had made it through that by being remarkably interested in the words on a page that he’d reread six times and still not taken in by the time Eddie’s head was on the pillow.

Pretending to be absorbed in his book didn’t stop him noticing that Eddie was facing him, had his eyes open and was looking at him. He didn’t mind, he just noticed. He’d glanced over once and smiled down, Eddie has smiled back, looking sleepy and beautiful and said “Good book?”

He’d lied and said ‘riveting’.

That had made Eddie laugh because he could see the title and knew it was a book about the roles women took up during World War 2, including working on the planes and machinery needed, ‘riveting’ being a key part of that.

Eddie laughed at his joke, he’s pretty sure no one else would have.

They talked a little longer until Eddie’s eyelids had started to flutter and then he was asleep breathing slow and deep. Buck took his turn at watching then, but only for 30 seconds, because it’s creepy watching someone sleeping, then he’d turned the light off and prayed he’d keep to his side of the bed.

Morning light creeping through the curtains had revealed his success in that area. He’d stayed mostly where he was, albeit a little closer to the center now. Eddie too was much where he’d been when the lights were turned out, except his arm is outstretched almost like it was reaching for something.

Still sleepy Buck considers the possibility that maybe it was?

Deciding he can blame sleep he wiggles a little closer still until Eddie’s hand is close enough for his fingertips to touch Buck’s arm. Those fingertips are a little too cold actually so the kind, responsible thing to do is make sure Eddie stays warm.

The rest under hear cos I write long sentences and apparently 60 sentences gives you a very long post!! 😆

🧠 this was a prompt for buddie with telepathic bond from @steadfastsaturnsrings I hadn’t done anything with it but now I have … this is all there is for now… I’ll keep thinking about it

You get three people. That’s it. Three and you cant choose them until you're 16.

After that it’s down to personal preference, compatibility and your own heart.

Not everybody chooses and hardly anyone chooses three. It’s a big decision even stupid teenagers know that.

Buck’s first choice was Maddie. She’d asked if he was sure. She hadn’t chosen anyone yet even if she was so much older than him. Doug wasn’t a believer in taking the bond so he’d said no when she’d asked. She’d said yes to her brother and then she’d left him.

He’d never understood why.

So he’d never asked anyone again. He bonded with Maddie and then she was gone. Seemed like an omen to him.

The second bond happened without him realising it, and neither of them kniw exactly when it happened but he must have wanted it and so must Eddie because you can’t bond without consent.

However the first time he heard Eddie’s voice in his mind was when he’d been buried by 40 feet of mud and Buck was insisting he was alive when he could see the fear in everyone else’s eyes that his best friend was already lost.

😧 amnesia fic

“Hey, no need to scowl at the juice, it’s not done anything wrong.”

That’s a matter of opinion but Josephine’s smile is gentle, she understands how frustrating it is to be stuck like this, not a damn clue who he is or where he belongs. And he does belong somewhere, he knows he does. The ache in his chest proves it, it burns constantly, a deep furious conviction that he has to be somewhere else, has to get back to something important.

The something remains a mystery but he thinks it has to be a family. He just feels like he has a family somewhere and he has to find them again. They probably think he’s dead and he’s not, he’s just lost. Lost everything it feels like.

He tries to remember but there’s just a dark void at the center of him; cold and empty. That’s wrong, he knows that, so wrong, there should be light and laughter and warmth there. He remembers the feeling even if he can’t remember what put it there. He rubs at the ache in his chest constantly, trying to soothe it away, and from there each time his fingers reach for something around his neck that's absent.

Each time his fingers seek and find nothing, he doesn’t know what’s missing, only that he misses it. It makes his eyes sting. He wants to remember what’s missing so badly.

😈 demon!Eddie

Eddie stands there, waiting patiently, allowing the witch who owns and runs this place to sense him and prepare herself. It’s only polite after all, no one likes an unexpected demon even if they’re technically an old friend.

As he waits Eddie lets the peace of this place soak into him. The light that manages to make it through the dusty windows is warm and casts soft shadows across the floor. The air is filled with the scent of old paper and leather, hints of herbs and spices lingering too. Against the walls various cabinets, bookcases and shelves are crammed full of a range of trinkets and treasures, some fake, some genuine, some just ordinary things because even the customers who come here need candles and matches as well as the more interesting things you can purchase here. Eddie’s not here for matches, nor the more esoteric items on sale. He just wants to talk. He has questions and he thinks that this is where he’ll find the answers.

Still and quiet he waits until she’s ready and before too long the curtain to the back room of the store moves and he’s not alone anymore.

She’s cautious because she’s old and she’s wise and she knows that even old friends like him require watching carefully if you want to stay being old.

“Your Highness” her eyes twinkle because she knows how much he hates that, “you honor my humble business with your presence.”

The lady steps forward glorious and beautiful, dark skin glowing, warm eyes teasing him and the curve of her mouth telling him she thinks she’s funny. Eddie narrows his eyes, she’d better not even think about bowing.

“Linda, you know I hate it when you do that.

[myfictionaldreams]

Hi, hello! I see requests are open and if you’re liking this idea, I hope you enjoy writing it. If not, it’s more than okay🙈🥺

OKAY OOKKAAAY!!

What if the winter soldier was triggered because of the high amount of stress + torture Bucky goes through while kidnapped by whoever.

Yes the Wakanda’s deprogrammed the soldat but no one really thought pass that. So when Bucky is kidnapped and put under that stress the WS is triggered, comes out to save himself/ Bucky from it

My Little Sun // Bucky/WS x fem!reader

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy ღ

Tags: sfw, lots of angst, fluff, description of injuries, reference to torture, trauma response, anxiety, crying, overprotective (to the absolute max), possessive, sam wilson is a great friend

Words: 5.3k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The days were endless but the nights were torturous when he wasn’t there. The silence, the coolness of the sheets, the empty coffee cup left on the side, it wasn’t how it was supposed to be and that only made it all the more difficult to be in your home.

“I’ll be back in a few days Doll, it’s not supposed to be a big deal anyway, Sam just needs an extra pair of super strong hands”. Bucky always attempted to use his humour to try and ease the anxieties he knew that would be your worst enemy whilst he was away.

Hundreds of missions you’d been there to wave him off, and welcomed him back without even a scratch but this only made it worse, your luck had to run out eventually, right?

Not that your and Bucky's story was the happiest, to begin with. The two of you had been together since Hydra days, having been the Winter Soldier’s nurse until Alexander Pierce noticed the Asset responded better to your orders. For years and years, he only trusted you, even through the mental “resets” or being frozen, the Winter Solider would only trust you. This had its positives and negatives that Pierce liked to use against you but, when Steve Rogers finally found out about his best friend was alive, everything changed. This wasn’t the end of your story though, for two years following this, the two of you were on the run, then lived in Wakanda, saying a farewell to Winter Soldier, then the blip. Both of you were gone for five years which you were in a way thankful for, not sure either could cope without the other and now, after Steve was gone, Bucky was on the road to recovery - with the additional missions with Sam Wilson.

This wasn’t as bad for you but having returned to nursing meant that you couldn’t always be there when he returned or be able to check your phone for updates. At least the role kept you busy, as the days ticked by and finally, as the day of his return was due, you were stuck on restocking, which meant you could stare at your phone, waiting for the jet to return.

The second the phone buzzed, you were off, heart hammering in your chest with the adrenaline, rushing to the headquarters.

Maybe it was your anxiety that overthought the atmosphere in the room, overthinking why it was so quiet, no rushing of agents to unload the jet. It had to also be your anxiety as to why no one seemed to look into your eye or even smile and wave at your arrival, everyone was probably tired.

As you waited in your usual spot, your foot tapping anxiously against the stone floor, it was taking a lot longer to unload the jet. Eventually, an agent approached, suggesting you sit in one of the conference rooms, at least there you could sit down with a glass of water. They were just being polite, there was definitely nothing wrong, even as the 30-minute wait time turned into an hour. You tried to keep your spirits up, knowing that if those negative whispers at the back of your mind started to shout, you’d lose all composure. It was only a few days that they’d been away, only to infiltrate some stolen goods from being trafficked across the borders.

But then, it was strangely close to a known Hydra camp that had been whispered about throughout the underground market with recent activity. A shiver passed through your body at even the mere thought of the name that had ruined so many people's likes, it was almost like a swear word you weren’t allowed to think about.

The years of torture, life-ruining time spent with those demons and through it all Bucky was your saving grace, he always had been, even with the Asset’s mindset. There had always been hope and that had come in the shape of Steve Rogers and most importantly Shuri, giving the Winter soldier the peace to be deprogrammed and allowing Bucky to try and proceed with the life he should have had. Even though it had been years, there was always a small inkling in your mind that the Winter Soldier was ready to be released beneath the surface, something just holding him back and with one wrong move he would be set free and chaos would be caused. 

So as the minutes ticked by, waiting and waiting, the anxiety soon felt like impending doom, your chest ready to split open in fear.

Then finally, after nearly two hours of waiting, it all came crashing down as Sam Wilson slowly opened the door by himself, shutting it soundly behind him. He was still in his Captain America uniform, blood and dirt coating it.

You had stood as soon as the door handle turned, facing Sam, tears welling in your eyes, all control disappearing. Attempting to look into the light in the ceiling to stop the tears from falling, something wasn’t sitting right in your gut, it hadn’t for days, almost like an intuition.

“Is he dead?” your voice wobbled as you tried to hold on from having a complete meltdown, knees locking to stop from shaking and falling.

Sam took a deep breath, making sure to look you in the eye. “He’s not dead, but he hasn’t returned with us. We were ambushed”.

“Who…”

“Hydra”.

That one word, the tainted ugly word was enough to have your body giving up on any strength that it had retained. Sam was quick to catch you before you slammed to the floor, easing the seat beneath you and pouring a glass of fresh water, making sure you took a sip before sitting in the seat next to you.

His hand rested on yours as it lay in your lap, as he began to explain the situation and you were so very grateful for your friend, not trusting yourself to speak at that current moment.

They’d been ambushed, the entire operation was a setup and even the agents, specifically, Bucky was able to hold the enemy back, eventually, they had surrounded him and before Sam could reach him, they had gone.

“I knew this would happen” you eventually declared, looking at Sam’s tired face. “I knew they would get to him, I’ve heard the rumours and the threats but no one seemed to take them seriously! Sam what if they-”

“I know what you’re going to say but that will not happen, Ok? Zemo’s tried it, and others have attempted it. Bucky is just Bucky, Shuri has made sure that the Winter Soldier was deprogrammed so let’s try not to lose control here, we need to concentrate on getting him back and safely.”

There was no reason to disagree with him but the thoughts continued to send you into a panic, spiralling through your head causing only more detriment to your mental health but you wouldn’t verbally say them, wouldn’t want to manifest them into a reality.

“He’s not dead, I would know if he were”, you knew it didn’t make sense, you didn’t have a tracker on his heart but through everything the two of you had shared, it was almost like a silent connection. He often joked that you were both two of the same coin and you truly believed that too.

“He’s not, I believe that too, they wouldn’t want to kill him so quickly”. Saying it like that had sour bile threatening to spill from your mouth so you forced yourself to drink another sip of water, silent tears dripping down your cheeks.

“So what do we do now? Are there people searching for him?”

“Of course, we have everyone out there searching the area, drones are scanning the ground to sense any underground holdings. We aren’t stopping for even a moment. The only reason I’ve returned is that I wanted to be the one to tell you and get some more supplies”.

You tried to half-ass a smile, looking back at Sam with sincerity. “Thank you, I do appreciate it coming from you Sam. What time do we go-”

“That’s the other reason I’m here because I know you’d somehow get involved in the search and I’m sorry but I can’t have you anywhere near the site.”

The overwhelming urge to shout took over your body so much that you had to take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders, ignoring the heat that had settled in your cheeks. “Listen, Sam, I can be useful please, I know what Hydra are like”.

“I understand that but, you’ve got to see it from my perspective as well. They’ve got Bucky, now what would happen if they also captured you too? What could they make Bucky do if you were in harm's way?  Even without the Winter Soldier, Bucky would kill anyone if it meant keeping you protected so there’s no way I’m letting that happen.”

This also made sense but it still didn’t stop your stomach from clenching as you refrained from arguing. As you tried to settle your emotions, you took in your friend, really looked at him and saw the overwhelming exhaustion and fear settled within his eyes.

“We’ll find him, Sam. Come on, I’ll clean you up, that’s a nasty scratch you’ve got there”, referring to the gash across his forehead. You wanted to be a good friend as much as he has been for you but also, it was a good distraction to fall into work habits.

Working soon became your only salvation, after looking after Sam and watching him return to the jet, you’d made your way back to work yourself. It was the only distraction that had worked and after nearly three days, it had quickly consumed your life, having not returned home once since discovering the news. If you weren’t working, you were sleeping in the changing rooms, showering there, eating vending machine food and returning for the shift.

If you didn’t do this, you’d have a complete and utter breakdown and it also stopped you from getting into a car or plane and going out to where he had been taken. You were sure that the agents were becoming fed up with your ungodly amount of phone calls but every update was needed, even though there had currently been absolutely nothing.

Eventually on the fourth day, your superior ordered you to go home for a full 12 hours but this only meant that you could go back to the office and watch the agents work. None of them asked you to leave which you were thankful for but it was an endless cycle after this, working as a nurse and then sitting with agents.

Four days soon turned into eight which was also when Sam returned again. He’d been out there every single day searching for Bucky, trying to find any clues and it was mostly his activity that you’d watch on the screen day after day.

Sam approached behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder, “let's go for a walk”.

You didn’t want to argue, following behind him as he led the way to the grounds, it felt odd to be outside for this amount of time.

“They called you back to talk to me, didn’t they?” You knew that your behaviour wasn’t normal but it was the only coping mechanism that you could handle right now and you weren’t interfering with anyone either.

“I’ve had my boss and your boss on the phone with me so yes, you’re quite the hot topic. I know you’re worried, I get it, I am too. But you’re going to kill yourself waiting around or working too hard. You need to go home, sweetheart, get some rest, and have an actual meal. If anything happens you’ll be the first person that I call.”

“I can’t go home Sam, not without him, we were supposed to go back together!”, any hope of salvaging the tears was useless as they began to drip down your cheeks.

“I understand that, but you know Buck would kill me if I didn’t look after you so for all of our sakes, let me please drive you home and I’ll even pick you up in the morning but I need you to look after yourself for once.”

The exhaustion truly hit you then, hoping that maybe you were so tired that you’d get in and fall asleep immediately, not having to think about the empty apartment. Eventually, you agreed to Sam’s request, letting him drive you back to your building which you stared at for a few minutes upon arrival, not making any effort to actually leave the safe space within the car. 

“You can do this, if you need anything I’m just at the end of the phone”, he attempted to motivate you, which you were thankful for.

Turning to him in the car, you smiled softly, probably for the first time in eight days, “thanks Sam, I’m lucky to have you in my life”.

“If you keep talking like that you might even make me cry”, he tried to joke, pulling a genuine smile to your cheeks as you exited the car and finally made your way into the apartment. For a good two minutes, you silently stared at the front door, taking a step forward and as the key entered, a small sob escaped your mouth.

The apartment had never looked so dark before as the sun began setting outside, much too quiet as you stepped in. Bucky liked to always have noise even as he slept, mostly from a distraction from his thoughts so you took a leaf out of his book and rushed to turn on the TV.

The background did help slightly, rushing to shower and load the washer but the place felt haunting, even though this was all in your head. Attempting to keep busy, you cleaned the apartment, emptying the contents fridge that held a lot of gone-off food, the milk having solidified so quickly, you threw it into the trash.

Heading downstairs, you disposed of the trash bag into the dumpsters, taking your time to go back as the stars twinkled in the night sky above.

Just as you were outside your apartment door, you stopped. On the floor, was a singular drop of blood at the threshold of the door, that you’d left open as the area was usually secure.

Patting your body quickly for your phone, you cursed for leaving it on the side. Also, you checked that somehow you’d not scratched yourself or even had a nosebleed but there was nothing. The sensible decision would have been leaving the building and not coming back but something within you drew you into the apartment, stepping quietly and turning on the main light, illuminating the kitchen and living room area.

Bucky’s name whispered at the back of your thoughts but you couldn’t let your hopes be lifted. There were no further blood spots anywhere in your home, and as you entered the bedroom, the last room to check, there were no signs of anything wrong, nothing was out of your place, even your phone was still left laying on the side as you reentered the main living space.

This was when a force bulldozed into you, a large hand covering your mouth and a sharp knife held at your throat, pressing over your artery as the weight pushed you back until colliding with the wall. Momentarily you were winded but the sight before you had instant tears welling in your eyes, a sob bubbling in your throat, the hand over your mouth stopping you from crying out the name, Bucky.

There he was, standing over you and there was so much to take in. He was coated in dirt and blood, fresh and dried. Cuts, grazes, gashes, bruises, every form of injury littered the exposed parts of his body, the rest were covered in filthy joggers and a shirt that you suspected to once be grey but now were mixed between black and red, especially the large blood patch in his abdomen that looked fresh.

Bucky had super soldier serum, he would always heal quicker than others, in fact, the paper-thin scratches that you noticed should have healed as you looked at them to nothing more than a pink line but they stayed, unhealed.

However, through everything, it was his eyes that had your thoughts screaming on red alert. The eyes, the stare, that you hadn’t seen in years.

Not panicking was key so even with the knife at your throat, you dropped your shoulders, showing you had no fear, the Winter Soldier always hated when you looked frightened of him. The usual soft clear blue eyes of Bucky were now hard and slightly glazed over as he looked down at your shorter form.

Trying to maintain your courage and not falter, you began to lift your hands, palms up, showing that there are no weapons and you meant no harm but the Asset already knew this. Taking a risk, you wrapped your hands around his wrists, gently earring them away from their hold against you.

The Winter Soldier did not fight it at all.

“Soldier?” you asked tentatively as his hand was removed from your mouth.

The Asset collapsed and any attempt you had to catch him was in vain as he weighed a lot more than you could carry but thankfully, you managed to cup the back of his head before it collided with the floor.

“Buck- Soldier? Open your eyes, please!” desperately you cradled his face, stroking both thumbs against his bruised cheekbones but he was out cold, not even his eyes flickered.

Nurse mode kicked in as you instantly went to the dark area at his abdomen, lifting his shirt to see a stab wound that was still bleeding slowly. Rushing off your feet, you grabbed the first aid pack from the cupboard as well as your phone, leaving it at your side to quickly put pressure onto the wound. 

This woke him up as he grunted in pain, his breaths leaving him in quick bursts as he attempted to grip your wrists.

“Shh it’s ok, I’m going to look after you, I just need to stop the bleeding, I know it hurts, I’m sorry”.

“Солнышко”, he whispered a name that you had not heard in a long time. Years ago, the Soldier had whispered it to you so no one could hear. Eventually, it was the only name he would call you, and one day, it was translated for you. “Little sun”. As he began to regain his memories after escaping Hydra, he would talk about why this name, only repeating that you were his light in a world full of darkness, therefore, his little sun.

“It’s ok, Soldier, you’re going to feel better, I just need you to stay still, let go of my wrists”.

He did instantly, always listening to you.

The wound was still bleeding, and you silently cursed at yourself for not having more resources to care for him but every time you’d care for his wounds after a mission recently, it had been at the facility. “What did they do to you?” your words were only a whisper, a question more for yourself as the panic began to set in. 

Glancing up into his eyes, you found that he had passed out again, allowing you to call someone. Easing one hand off of the wound, quickly unlocking your phone and selecting the first name to pop up, it answers within two rings.

“It’s not even been two hours yet, that’s not enough time-” Sam tried to joke on the other end of the line but you had to cut him off.

“He’s here”.

Sam paused for a second like he didn’t quite understand what you’d said. 

“What? What do you mean he’s there-”

“I mean, what I said Sam! He’s here, passed out on the floor and he's injured sam, I need some help, please!”

“Ok, ok I’ll get the medics to go to your apartment, I’ll head there now as well.”

“Wait Sam, that’s not the only thing. He’s not- He’s not Bucky”.

“Shit.” Sam cursed loudly.

“I can’t have them taking him away again”, you needed the medics but the risk of the Winter Soldier waking up in a room full of strangers was only bound to end in danger.

“They won’t take him away sweetheart, I’ll contact Shuri, it’ll be ok, we’ll sort out a plan.”

And this is exactly what they did. Turning up in force, you rushed to grab the equipment, ignoring the guns that were being pointed at Bucky.

“No one touches him but me, do you all understand?” Everyone agreed, Sam thankfully then turned up and was able to have the guns pointed somewhere than where you were. Eventually, it was decided that they would sedate him which was probably the best option compared to being on guard with guns. Even on transfer to the facility where he would heal, you stayed by his side, cleaning his wounds and suturing a few gashes. After all the scans and investigations, it was determined that other than the stab wound, he had a broken wrist, cracked three ribs, several fingernails missing and head to toe, covered in bruises, cuts and grazes and IV lines were giving him pain medication and antibiotics, he looked a mess.

He had stayed sedated for another day, allowing his body to try and heal. Sam had attempted to send you home once more, but in the end, you had agreed to change into some cream joggers and a t-shirt and then made a little nest next to his bed in the most comfortable chair available.

You’d dozed in your chair for a couple of hours, waking up to find Sam standing behind you but luckily no one else was, the armed guards currently waiting outside as the sedation was wearing off. 

This wasn’t the only precaution and even after arguing about it for hours, they still placed, large cuffs across his body, particularly his metal arm, just in case he woke.

“He’s just gotten out of imprisonment and now he’s back in it”, you mumbled quietly, looking up and down his body.

“It’s not forever, it’s just a precaution”, Sam tried to ease your anxiety, something he seemed to be doing a lot of these days but you were thankful for your friend staying until Bucky woke up.

Leaning across the bed, you held the metal hand, the feeling giving some comfort.

“This feels weird waiting for the Winter Soldier to wake up and you’re just casually there holding his hand.”

Smiling sadly at Sam’s statement, you continued to watch Bucky, or should you be say the Winter Soldier? It was all so confusing, and there was still some hope that it would be Bucky waking up. 

Just as your eyes became heavy, Bucky’s hand suddenly flinched in yours and instantly you were sitting further up on your chair, leaving over him.

“Bucky?” your fingers drifted through his short brunette hair. At first, his eyes didn’t open but he furrowed his brows like he was willing himself to wake up. “It’s ok, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere”, you whispered, leaning in to kiss his forehead, mindful of his injuries. Standing back up, his eyes were now open, staring at you and now it was noticeable that the whites of his eyes were stained with red but at least he could open them properly.

“Buc- … Soldier? How do you feel?” at the near mention of Bucky’s name, the heart rate monitor began to increase in speed so you resorted back to trying to calm him. “You’re safe, it’s ok. Your wounds aren’t healing like they usually would so I’m just keeping a close eye on you.”

“They laced the knives with a special solution”. You’d not expected him to speak so soon, it was gruff from lack of use but his tone was softer than anything the Soldier had ever used.

“What?”

“They bathed the knives in some green solution before cutting me and it’s stopped me from healing.” The sick feeling returned to your stomach with full force, dreading to ever find out what had happened that they had tortured him enough for the Winter Soldier to come out.

“You’re healing well now though which is the main thing. It just might have to be at the same rate as us normal lot”.

Leaning forward once more, your lips softly kissed his temple, fingers still coming through his hair. The sound of his shackles shaking had you looking down at his hands, he’d tried to reach for you too but had been restricted. The Asset also looked down in confusion as to why he was being chained up but his eyes didn’t even glance at the straps, instead, he saw Sam at the end of his bed.

“Soldier, it’s fine, they’re friendly, they just want to help you.”

This wasn’t enough for him, the heart rate spiking to a dangerous level as his muscles struggled against the cuffs, his body straining as he tried to escape. “Calm down Soldier, listen to me Buck-Soldier, stop please, it’s safe!”

It was no use as the more he struggled, the more the guards were getting antsy and before long they were entering the room and pointing their guns at him. Sam began shouting now but that made no difference as the Asset had ripped his arms out of the shackles and the other cuffs were like pieces of string, easily ripped off.

“Point your guns somewhere else! Please get out, I don’t want him to hurt you”, it was complete and utter chaos, you were sure your heart was beating as fast as the one displayed on the monitor. “Stop pulling them out, they are there to help you”, you shouted at the Soldier as he ripped the IVs out of his arm and detached himself from the monitors. 

In the next second, his metal arm was gripping around your middle as he raced out of the bed, staggering slightly with his injuries but that didn’t deter him from pushing you into the corner, standing in front with only his hospital gown on. 

Now you were even more confused. The Winter Soldier was the world’s most dangerous assassin and on many occasions, he had killed to protect you but here he was, not making that step to kill anyone, simply just standing in front of you, being a barrier between the guns and your person.

“Everyone needs to stop this, now!” Sam shouted, holding his hands out in front of the guards.

Placing your hand in the middle of the Soldier’s back, you tried to speak to him, “you- you don’t need to protect me from these people, they are your friends Soldat”.

“I know who they are”, he revealed, looking at Sam now. “I’m not the Soldier, not to the fullest extent. I still have my mind but he’s there at the forefront, I want to kill you all but not because I’ve been ordered to but because I need to protect- WE, need to protect her but I can’t get through to him that you’re safe to be around.”

“Oh Bucky”, you muttered, laying your forehead against his back for a second, savouring his warmth before standing on your tip toes to look over his shoulder. “Please can you leave us for a moment, even if it's just outside the door, I just need you all to leave us”.

It took some stern words from Sam and arguments before they relented and exited, with Sam giving a final nod before thankfully closing the door, leaving the two of you in peace.

“Sit down before you hurt yourself anymore”, you encouraged Bucky as he held onto the stab wound, turning to face where you stood in the corner of the room. Your breaths were coming out in quick bursts, as your eyes flicked between his two confused ones.

Lifting his metal hand, he gently cupped your cheek which you thankfully grabbed, holding it there, having never been more grateful for a moment until now.

“You look sad, and you haven’t been eating properly”, he uttered, looking across your face.

Brushing away his hands, “Yes well, I’m going to be pissed if you don’t get into this bed right now!”

“Yes ma’am” he retorted with the sarcastic tone you’d grown so fond of. Bucky grunted as he eased himself into bed, brushing away the mess left behind by the destroyed cuffs. 

As you began to sit in your seat, he requested, “lie with me”.

“Nice try Barnes but there will be no lying with you, not on that tiny bed, now lie back and heal”. It sounded like you were chastising a child but it was for his own good, the stubborn man.

At the mention of the name Barnes, his eye twitched slightly before rolling his neck and settling back into the pillows. Even though you would lie with him, you still sat as close as you could, holding his flesh hand which was covered in bandages.

“What did they do to you?”

“You don’t want to know Doll”.

He never hid anything from you, maybe it was for the best that he didn’t give you the details whilst everything was so fresh for him.

“Explain to me what you meant that he was in your mind, so you’re Bucky… but you aren’t?”

“Sort of. I think it got to a point where something snapped in my subconscious and he came out but I mean, it worked. His ruthless aggression was just the push I needed to snap my wrist out of the chains and get me or us- out of there”.

You weren’t sure what to say so he continued his explanation. “I have enough control not to kill them lot out there, but he’s still in here, lingering, ready to kill if needs be”, he pointed at his head.

“Well I’m very glad you didn’t kill poor Sam, he just about shit himself”.

Bucky laughed but then winched, gripping his fractured ribs.

“So what do you want to do now? I think Shuri is coming here”.

“That’s probably for the best, it would be nice not to want to kill my friends. I do ask one thing of you though, don’t leave my side”.

Your heart broke at the sincere note to his tone, tears threatening to spill enough that you had to look away from him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset”, Bucky tried to sit up to comfort you but you were quick to push his shoulders back into the pillows, moving to now sit on the edge of his bed, cupping his cheek as he continued his explanation. “I just meant, that if you weren’t here, I can already feel how agitated he is thinking about it. What I’m getting at is for everyone’s safety, don’t leave the Winter Soldier. You’re going to have to just deal with us overbearing pair for a little bit, that’s also why we came straight home rather than a hospital”.

“I think I can deal with that for a little while longer”, finally you were able to grin and truly mean it, leaning in to kiss his lips softly.

It was only a second long but he was already trying to deepen it which caused the pain to flare in his face.

You laughed sitting away from him, “you need to heal first Romeo, both of you do”.

Bucky’s eyes softened, before revealing, “he’s missed you. I’ve missed you”.

“I’ve missed you both too, my overprotective murderer”, you joke, kissing his bandaged hand. At this point, Bucky’s eyes had begun to become heavy, dropping slightly. “Get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.

“You better me, otherwise I’m killing everyone in that hallway, Солнышко”.

A/N: Солнышко - little sun. I must admit that I used google to find the translation so apologies if this isn't correct.

[icallhimjoey]

To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, drinking, hangovers, rpf, fem!reader, eventual smut

Author’s note: this took me a good minute, and listen, i promise there'll be smut!!!!!! just, give joey a minute, all right?

Wordcount: 4.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

Joe didn't sleep a wink. How could he? He was in his bed, in his clothes still, and your behind was pressed up against his front.

All night he'd laid awake. Listened to you. Smelt you. Felt you. Around the 4AM mark, he'd built up enough courage to let his fingertips stroke the skin he could see in front of him, drawing shapes and writing words he was too scared to vocalise.

Pretty.

Sweet.

Hot.

Across your shoulders, down your arms, the back of your neck. He got to freely feel and gently caress, hidden in the dark of night. He only stopped when you hummed too loudly, made a noise that said, yes, more. Joe retracted, silently said, I'm sorry, I shouldn't, and held his breath in fear of you waking up from his touch.

It took everything inside him not to move forward just an inch and let his cupid's bow, that little sensitive ridge above his top lip, rub the soft skin at the base of your neck.

The last time he checked the time, it was close to 5:30. He didn't remember falling asleep - do people ever? - but he couldn't have been asleep for much more than an hour when you rudely awoke him by throwing your body sideways over his. Soft stomach to soft stomach.

Bread.

Joe had to pull strength up from his toes to pretend to be asleep still, as you stayed like that, draped across his torso, slowly eating the bread he'd left out on his bedside table for you.

It was one thing to hear you chew and swallow. It was a whole other thing to feel it in his own gut.

The glass of water followed, and thank the fucking lord, soon after you crawled back to what had now become your side of his bed.

Shit.

That side would now forever be your side of Joe's bed. It didn't matter who else was ever going to be sleeping in it, his bed was now divided in your side and his side.

The hangover was a real one, and after taking a dazed second to yourself, sat up in Joe's bed and looking around the room, you decided you couldn't be in bed any longer.

You needed to sit under a cold shower. Or lay with your cheek on a cool toilet seat. Spray your face with ice water and then go exist in front of an aircon unit for a minute.

Joe felt you move towards the foot of the bed before the mattress leveled out, signaling you'd gotten out completely. Soft footsteps left his bedroom. Joe heard a door open, then shut immediately. Then another. More footsteps, but now coming back, and Joe lifted his head, squinting through an eye to gather what was going on. You were stood in front of Joe's bedroom door, out on the landing, and seemed... lost. Clearly out of it, still. Purely surviving.

"Where's your-" it came out all hoarse, so you cleared your throat, got rid of the raspiness and looked at Joe. "Where's your bathroom?" voice still just as croaky.

Joe let his head fall back into the pillow and just pointed.

You spent far too long in the bathroom for Joe's liking. It gave him way too much time to think about how this morning was going to go. Too much time to go back and forth between what he thought he should do. For now, he was still very tired, wanted to remain in bed in desperate need of more sleep, but he was also very aware that the polite thing to do was to at least offer you breakfast. To go downstairs with you once you were done doing... whatever you were doing in there. The tap of his sink had been going for a while.

It was because you were busy with the very necessary task of letting cool water run over your face sideways, sometimes sucking in enough water to swallow a good moutful. You know, total normal people behaviour.

It had gotten to the point where Joe thought he should at least get out of bed and get into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt. To appear a little more presentable, even though he desperately wanted to get into a shower first. However, his thoughts were interrupted when your phone started ringing. Joe looked, and saw your opened bag still on the floor next to him. He could see how your phone lit up the inside of it.

You'd heard it too, and came rushing in.

"Morning," you smiled through squinty eyes, all self-deprecatingly, holding a towel that you used to dry your face and how the fuck were you still this wildly gorgeous?

"Nice bedhead," you pointed out from your crouched position next to the bed, finding your phone and turning on your heel and making your way back over to Joe's bathroom as you answered.

It made Joe raise an insecure hand into his loose curls, doing his best to push them back into place, where they'd usually sit.

You left the towel there, on the floor, and Joe saw how your make-up had left behind the same coloured stains as were on the sleeve of his shirt, still. Not as prominent, but definitely there. It felt like you were leaving your mark to advertise your presence, claiming your territory and Joe thought, yea that's right, you might as well, though no need, because it was already all yours anyway, wasn't it?

"Hey,"

You answered, and spoke so flatly, Joe guessed it was Mark calling.

"Yea, big one,"

You'd left the bathroom door open this time, and using context clues, Joe thought you'd just been asked if you had a hangover.

"Not much– I think I remember enough to know I'm an awful person,"

Joe eavesdropped.

"Except, I am an awful person,"

The tap turned on again, and Joe heard you take sips. Good, he thought. Rehydrate.

"Okay, thanks, but I kind of still am, though,"

"Let's agree to disagree, then. Is Poppy mad at me?"

"Oh, that's good."

"Yea, lunch is fine, can we go and get burgers or something?"

Joe couldn't help but grin to himself. This was exactly how apologies worked with him and Poppy as well. They were always strange sort of non-apologies, where you both vaguely acknowledged something and quickly moved on. Sometimes Poppy and Joe could be livid with each other, and not speak for a few days besides passive aggressive texts back and forth, and then, suddenly, skies would clear up and Joe'd ask if Poppy wanted to come with to some event, and she'd reply, asking what the dress code was and everything would be forgotten and forgiven.

"Noon's a little soon, gotta give me some time to pull myself together,"

"No,"

"Yea, that should be fine,"

"All right,"

You were rounding off your chat, and Joe realised you hadn't mentioned you were over at his place. Not once. Not even slightly hinted towards it a little.

Maybe you didn't want Mark to know.

Oh fuck, Joe'd done the wrong thing by bringing you over to his house, hadn't he?

Of course you didn't want Mark to know.

The sudden rush of panic made Joe finally get up and out of bed.

Quick. Get out of these clothes.

No, wait. Apologise first.

Fuck.

God, you'd woken up in a bed with Joe, probably not even properly remembering how you'd gotten there and obviously, Joe was an awful person. A terrible friend. What the fuck must you be thinking of him right now?! Joe should at least–

"Sorry,"

Joe was stood in front of his wardrobe, both hands on the doorknobs, internally screaming at himself, when suddenly you interrupted the silence from the doorway.

"No, it's–... no worries," Joe shook his head, frowning a little.

"For the mess," you gestured at your own forearm, making Joe look at his own. "I would offer to pay for the dry cleaning, but it'll come out fine in a regular wash, I promise,"

Joe gave a small, crooked smile. The careful kind.

"And, sorry for ruining the wedding shower too, I got way too–"

"I said, no worries,"

He tried. He tried so hard not to make this moment awkward for you. To have it be somewhat normal. Casual. Like he didn't currently actively hate himself for the choices he had made on your behalf.

"Well," you stepped inside, got closer and then picked up your bag from the floor, along with your shoes. "At least let me say sorry for hogging your bathroom for ages then,"

With both hands on the doorknobs of his wardrobe still, Joe's eyes followed you moving around his bedroom like a hawk.

You grinned at his silence.

Deep breaths, Joe.

"All right, I'll get out of your hair," you said, stopping in his doorway and turning back to look at him, jokingly adding, "Because it clearly needs a wash."

Oh. So, you weren't going to mention it, Joe thought.

"Do you want some– I could make you some breakf–" Joe started, but you winced at the mention of food, clearly nauseous still.

"That's all right, I'll find my way out,"

You really weren't going to mention it at all, were you? Waking up in Joe's house. In his bed. Laying on top of him for a second there... it just... it hung in the air between the two of you. It got no acknowledgement from you whatsoever. Well... Joe wasn't going to be the one to mention it either, so who was he to talk, really.

"I'll see you, um," you squeezed your eyes tightly shut for a second, "When's the stag do?"

"In two weeks,"

"I'll see you in two weeks,"

And with a little wave from the top steps of the stairs as you made your way down, you disappeared completely from Joe's view.

Joe forced himself not to wait and listen til you'd close his front door behind you, and instead took insisting steps into his bathroom where he hoped he could wash all this nervous energy down the drain. Scrub himself free of the embarrassment of you not telling Mark you'd slept in his bed. With him, no less.

Now there was a secret between the two of you.

Another secret Joe was going to have to keep from Poppy.

Awful. He was an awful friend.

But if you wanted this to stay between the two of you, Joe was going to respect that, and he would absolutely keep this a secret. Joe could hate himself for what he did and not talk about it to anyone, sure. No problem.

And that was that. Decided. Done.

About thirty minutes later, Joe stepped into his own kitchen, freshly showered, and hungry, and he found an empty yoghurt carton along with a dirty spoon on the side.

Grinning to himself, he traced your steps, found more evidence of you in the empty glass that had been placed in the sink, and, looking back into his hallway, the doormat that had slid out of place.

As Joe went to move it back into its correct spot, perfectly centered in front of the threshold, he was hit with a realisation that knocked the breath right out of him.

On your way out, you must have seen it. Can't have not noticed it. You had noticed it before, and had had it on your mind enough to mention it days after having seen it. There was no way that you hadn't seen that Joe's hallway no longer held the framed cropped photograph of himself and Poppy.

It hadn't even been replaced, he'd just... taken it down the night you had mentioned it and hadn't known what to put in its place.

Joe sighed, realising it was yet another thing he hadn't told Poppy about.

So, three secrets, then. Fine.

The weekend of the stag do came around quickly. The hen do happened simultaneously, and because Poppy had been sad over the fact that she hadn't been able to have you as one of her guests, you'd all decided to finish the night at the same bar. To meet up and 'round off together.

You'd have all of your separate fun, make Mark and Poppy dress up at least a little stupid - Mark was forced into a foam costume of a beer bottle, Poppy just got given a tiara that read Bride To Be - and would make them take belly shots off of strangers before eventually meeting up and having them do a belly shot off of each other.

Maybe not exclusively belly shots. You were sure you'd come up with more creative ways of drinking hard liquor. But shots, none the less. And whoever got most in, would win, and Poppy was hell-bent on winning.

"I'm going to get so drunk," she'd almost said it like it was a threat when Joe came to pick her up that afternoon.

"Oh yea?" Mark had been far too cool about it for Poppy's liking.

"There's not a chance you'll do more shots than me,"

"We'll see,"

And you did see.

It was just past 11 when your group of drunk men followed you into a basement bar after a long pub treasure hunt. You were met with shrieking girls, a very drunk Poppy, and a fairly sober looking Joe.

"Twenty-one!" Poppy shouted, her tiara all tangled up in her hair whilst she held up a bunch fingers that didn't mean anything.

"Shut up," you laughed, reached up to fix her hair a little, "You did not have twenty-one shots,"

"Twenty-seven if you count all the ones I dropped or spat out, too,"

You looked at Joe who smiled at you and shrugged as if to say, she did it. Mark had gotten maybe nine in, you'd lost count if you were honest, and his brain could barely remember his body had two feet down at the end of his legs.

Mark was drunk drunk. The beer bottle costume had been torn to shreds, and was now just a brown weird cropped vest over his clothes. Like an odd lifejacket created by a fashion student.

"Congratulations then," you squeezed Poppy's cheeks as she smiled, but got quickly pushed to the side by Mark who attached himself to Poppy's face, diving in tongue first.

"Yea, all right, that's fine," you scrunched your nose up at the sight and made your way over to the bar to get beers for the lads. Joe joined you.

"Half of those were water, but don't tell her," Joe said over the music. "She'll be devastated."

"Still more than Mark," you laughed. "She's a fair winner."

You both looked back at them as they ate each other's faces.

"What a couple," you jokingly said.

"Very romantic, this," Joe agreed, and you both laughed a little.

You'd just had enough alcohol to be sort of all right and normal around each other. Not drunk enough for Joe to not be hyper aware of the fact that when he'd last seen you, you'd slept over at his place. But, he could pretend not to think it was a big deal.

It was a secret, after all. Had to keep it that way.

You got an order in with a bartender for nine pints, and you took a moment to yourself to feel satisfied with the evening. To feel proud of yourself. Everything had gone exactly according to plan; all the guys that had been invited had shown up on time, Mark's brother was gracious and didn't make any spiteful jokes about him not being the best man, and everyone was having actual fun? And that on a stag do thrown by a woman? What a wild concept.

You started passing out lager, calling names over the music and handing over pints, when suddenly a random dude pretended to be part of your group and jokingly reached for a beer you were about to give to someone else. It made you laugh, give him a face as you avoided his hand, and before you knew it, you had him slurring unintelligible things into your ear.

Drunk men were like this. Predictable like toddlers. The antics of a child.

You kind of let him talk, and tried to decipher whatever he was saying. Tried to find an excuse or joke hidden in his slurred words about him getting one of those drinks from you, as you held a glass out to Mark.

Mark shot you one look and didn't even really see the drink.

Instead, what Mark saw was you being bothered by a drunk stranger that needed to back the fuck off if he knew what was good for him.

He was beside you in an instant, and used an arm to snake in between the two of you, wedging himself in between, his back turned to you, fully staring this guy down. The alcohol in his veins made him feel dangerously immortal, and his face gave nothing away, but the lack of humour displayed said plenty.

"Sorry mate," the stranger held up both palms and stepped back.

"Here," you tried to distract Mark by holding his drink out in front of him, which he took from you, but he kept his eyes on the guy who made his way back to his own friends.

"Mark, it's fine, he was only joking," you smiled, finding it both a little endearing and a little annoying that even in this state, Mark would make sure you were okay. He completely misread the signs, but still. It was kind of him.

When Mark turned around and let his exterior soften a little, you both had your attention directed to a furious Poppy who looked like she was just about ready to smash her glass on the bar and slit someone's throat.

Whose throat, though? you wondered.

"Why do you always do that?!"

Ah. Mark's throat.

"Do what?" Mark seemed unfazed by Poppy's outburst.

"Stop cock-blocking her all the time! She doesn't need you to always be all up in her business!"

Oh no, Poppy was going to go to war for you. An undeclared one, too – you hadn't called for troops. Especially not drunk, emotionally unstable ones.

But Mark retaliated with his own ammunition.

"Um, clearly she does. I take my eyes off her for a second and she ends up in Joe's bed,"

You heard an audible gasp come from the other side, and saw Joe, mouth agape, brows in a deep frown. Shocked, offended, dismayed, and not being funny about it.

"Excuse me?!"

For a second, you saw Poppy question herself as her eyes shot to you, asking, "Didn't you?"

"She did." Mark answered, giving you accusatory eyes.

"Mark!" you scolded.

"You told them?!" Joe couldn't quite believe it.

What was happening right now?

"And so what if she did?" Poppy got back to her war, aiming the barrels of her guns right back on Mark. "She can decide for herself if she–"

"She was drunk!" Mark said it like he was sober himself, which, you know, he very much wasn't.

"Nothing happened!" You looked at Joe, needed him to confirm that nothing had happened, just to settle this whole ordeal. But Joe was trying to follow whatever Mark and Poppy were even talking about with confused eyes, puzzling things together.

"Wait, you didn't tell them?" Why wouldn't Joe tell his best friend about it? That made everything so much weirder.

"Of course I didn't!"

Oh. Wow. Cool way to let you know Joe didn't want people knowing you'd seen the inside of his bedroom. Very subtle. Not at all hurtful in any way. You ignored the misplaced sparkle you felt in your lower stomach when you made direct eye-contact with Joe's wild eyes.

Jesus.

That was probably just the drink. Had to be the drink.

"I'm only making sure that she's okay!" Mark defended himself to his fiancé.

It was a wild crossfire. A whole big cluster-fuck of raised voices and slurred words. Poppy and Mark opposite each other, you and Joe in between on either side.

Poppy was saying all sorts of things on your behalf that you didn't need her saying aloud. Things like, "She's fine! She's an adult woman with a sex life!" and "She doesn't need you to act like a jealous boyfriend!", getting things out that had been festering within her for what seemed ages.

Mark defended himself, and mocked facial expressions the whole time, shouting things like, "I'm sorry for being a great friend," all passive aggressive, which only angered Poppy more.

In the meantime, you and Joe had your own fight going.

And Joe had heard what Poppy had just said, had just implied, and get the fuck out, you were so fucking cute when you got all feisty.

You accused Joe of always being so weird, and fucking rude, whilst he accused you of making him lie to Poppy, causing him to be weird. Like it was your fault that he hadn't been honest, that he had pretended he'd dropped you off at your flat that night, and it offended you to no end.

You were not going to take any blame for this – you'd obviously immediately told Mark that afternoon, when you'd gone to have burgers with him for lunch. The whole conversation had been about the wedding shower. Staying over at Joe's was hardly something you could've left out. And why should you have? You'd both fallen asleep in your clothes. Nothing had happened! And Mark had reacted very calmly to it as well. You'd mentioned it, Mark had gone, "Huh," and that was that. You'd carried on talking about the gifts they'd gotten, and the insane amount Poppy's family had spent on them.

It hadn't been a big deal. At all. So, the fact that Mark brought it up now as if it was a big deal kind of stung.

You were about to direct some anger towards your best friend, but it was difficult to get in between whatever Mark and Poppy had going.

"You always do this!" Poppy pointed an angry finger at Mark, who immediately grabbed onto it with a fist, making Poppy flail her arm to break free from it.

"I've taken shots from mouths of random men tonight and you've not once–" Poppy started, but got interrupted.

"You've done what?!" This was news to Mark and so definitely the wrong thing for one drunk person to say to another drunk person.

"You could've at least let me know," Joe got your attention again, and made you scoff.

"The fact that you even thought it was something to keep secret is fucking weird, Joe!"

No, not cute. Scratch that.

It was hot.

You got hotter when you turned pissy and spat Joe's name into his face. He kind of wanted to keep this going just for the off-chance of you saying his name like that again.

But before Joe could say anything back to rile you up any further, Poppy and Mark both lurched forward and channeled all of their pent up anger into filthy kissing. They just started grossly tongue fucking each other and fuck, wasn't that the right idea?

When Joe took a step to the side to continue whatever conversation he was having with you, he saw that you'd turned around and were moving towards the exit.

Escaping.

Just, walking out. Leaving.

Like you always did.

"Fuck you, I love you so much," Joe heard Mark groan into Poppy's mouth, and Poppy moaned so loudly, Joe could hear it over the music and, yea, all right, maybe leaving was the right idea.

You were fast. Already outside, walking backwards along the edge of the pavement as you eyed the street for an available cab.

Joe stumbled out of the bar and called your name when he spotted you.

You sighed, grumbled some swearwords to yourself as Joe jogged up.

"Listen, it's clear that you fucking hate me," you started when Joe got into ear shot. "And I'm sorry that I told Mark about staying over, I wasn't aware that you didn't want anyone to know,"

What?

"I'm sure it's all very embarrassing for you, but don't accuse me of making you lie – I didn't make you do shit,"

Oh no.

You got it all wrong.

"No, I–"

"You lied on your own fucking accord, don't rope me into shit like that, that's not cool,"

You raised an arm when you saw a cab pull up a little down the road after people had just gotten out.

"But no worries, Joe," you got all sarcastic, and the deranged combination of your frown, tight jaw and the mention of his name again made Joe have to close is eyes for a second.

Deep breaths.

Always and forever, deep, deep, deep breaths.

"I'll make sure to never mention to anyone ever again that I sometimes spend time in the same room as you,"

The cab stopped next to you, and you were quick to duck down and speak to the cabby. Gave him your address before moving to get inside. You saw Joe step closer then, and you immediately raised a finger.

"Don't," you warned, and Joe froze.

You didn't need Joe accompanying you home. You'd be just fine by yourself. Had he not just listened to Poppy going off inside, saying you were fine?

"I don't hate you," Joe blurted out quickly before you'd get into the cab and would disappear into the night.

He couldn't quite let you leave yet.

Not when Joe felt like this.

You just pressed your lips into a polite smile, clearly not buying it and just looked at him a second, then, by ways of saying goodbye, said, "I won't be a burden to you any longer."

You were leaving.

Climbed into the cab and were actually leaving.

No.

Absolutely not.

Joe saw you get into a seatbelt, attention diverted, and decided, fuck it, before he swung the door open again and climbed right over you.

"Joe, what the fuck,"

Joe ignored you, loudly gave his own address to the cab driver too, then instructed to drop you off first as he buckled up.

You stared at him with wild eyes, not quite believing that Joe couldn't just let you go home by yourself.

"I don't hate you," Joe said again, calmer now. "I never said you were a burden to me - you're not a burden to me." Much, much softer.

You, not so much.

"I don't need you to take me home, I can take care of myself!"

"I know you can," Joe's voice was low. "And you have done. Still do."

All fight seemed to have left him completely, and it took you off guard a little. Your breath hitched on an inhale, and you were unsure of why you felt the muscles in your stomach work when you looked at Joe.

But you were stubborn.

"I don't need people looking out for me, I know Poppy's plastered, but she was right – it's so unnecessary," you were genuinely annoyed that Joe couldn't have just let you get a taxi to your flat by yourself. You were tough, God damn it.

"It's just..." Joe trailed, and let eye-contact linger.

"No, it's not just. I don't need you to take care of me!"

You weren't just going to give in. You were going to get Joe to agree with you and then apologise.

"I know you don't!" Joe raised his voice slightly to match yours a little, before he brought it back down again, and said, "But what people need is hardly ever what they want,"

Oh.

Oh shit.

That shut you right up. You felt that sparkle again and it made you clench your thighs.

"And what people want..."

Joe moved in closer a little bit, and fuck all the way off. You wanted to kiss Joe.

"...is hardly ever what they need."

Needed that mouth on yours, and when Joe inched closer, you didn't move back. Did the opposite, actually and looked at his lips.

It was all Joe needed from you.

"Did you know that when you blush," Joe said, voice just above a whisper now, and his nose nearly touching yours, "It goes all the way down your neck?"

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s  @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[lostinlewis]

Sometimes I fall off but I always come back...

Rating: Mature.

Words: 2.7k

If you had been counting the seconds you were certain would be into the thousands before you noticed the text that was so subtly placed at the bottom of his latest gym selfie. 

‘Sometimes I fall off but I always come back.’

Yes you do, Lewis, yes you fucking do. Somehow you ALWAYS come back. 

Usually you were so careful to not be caught viewing his Insta stories, it was so important to you that you made it seem like you cared nothing at all for him anymore, even if that wasn’t entirely true. Most of the time it was fine but this instance you were carelessly tapping across stories when his freshly posted story popped up on your screen. 

It was too late the second it appeared on your screen, he would know you saw it, he would know that you knew he was in the city, he would also know, somehow, that every fibre of your being would be tempted by that revelation, and it was. 

It was 30 degrees outside, you were sitting around a table at your favourite rooftop bar in the cutest two piece with your friends but you were pretty sure in that moment that the short breaths, the beads of sweat and the tingle you felt in between your closed thighs were all down to him, in fact you knew they were. There wasn’t a temperature on earth, nor was there an amount of alcohol that you could consume that would make you feel just as he had always made you feel, even when you hadn’t seen him for some time. 

He was in the city, Lewis was in your city, in fact he was only a 15 minute car ride from where you were right now, you knew that because you had done the trip many times before - many many times before. 

Lewis was in his gym, most of it still familiar from the last time you were there, you could even see the bench he sat on as you rode him in front of the mirror just so he could watch the way your ass rolled on him. You thought often of that moment, of the way he was fawning over every little dimple in your skin, tracing the lines of your stretch marks as he growled so deeply, unashamed of the sounds he made as you brought him to the depths of pleasure whilst he showered a body you had often been so cruel to, with love. 

“I have to…I have to go, sorry.” 

You sank the rest of your cocktail in quick succession, avoiding eye contact with your annoyed but not surprised friends, this had happened so many times before, they need not even ask where you were going, they already knew. 

“He will only hurt you again…” 

The logical tone of your best friend was the last thing you heard before you were out of there, having already called an Uber to meet you outside before you had left the table, you were on your way to his before you could even finish tracing the bead of sweat that fell down his abs in the picture, the bead of sweat you salivated at the thought of licking off of him in a matter of minutes time. 

-

It was bold of you to presume that he wouldn’t have changed the code to his gate, it had been a long time since you were last there, yet he hadn’t, it was still exactly the same, almost as if he was daring you to come back to him, leaving the door metaphorically and physically open for you to do just that. 

One knock turned into three, using the reflection of his door knocker you checked yourself out one last time before the door was unlocked remotely, granting you permission into his world once more and you knew just how to find him. 

His house was quiet, you could be mistaken for thinking he wasn’t even home but you knew he was waiting for you, and you knew exactly where too. 

Pushing open the door of the gym, it took your eyes no longer than a millisecond to lock onto the man who was doing bicep curls in the mirror. He didn’t turn to greet you at first, locking eyes with you through the reflection, he waited for you to speak first. 

“Hi Lewis…” 

There was a nervous energy to your tone, he could sense it too, putting down the weights he finally turned to you. 

“Hello, you.” 

-

Sat on the very bench he last fucked you on, clad only in the thinest black shorts, Lewis stared at you as if he was daring you to make the first move with him. 

“Are you going to just stand there or are you going to tell me why you are here?” 

The smirk on his face was so self assured it irritated you, yet he had every right to be so confident, both of you knew what had brought you there, and both of you knew exactly why, he just needed to hear you say it. 

“I…I was at the bar and…Well, I missed you.” 

His smirk dissipated slightly, his eyebrow raised, a look that told you he knew you weren’t being entirely honest. 

“You missed me or you missed…it?” 

You felt your mouth salivate with excitement as he freed his dick from the restraint of his shorts, allowing it to spring to attention, attention that had captivated you from the moment you saw his hand reach into his shorts. 

“Both...shit, both…” 

It was impossible to hide the excitement on your face, not once had you stopped looking at the hardness that tempted you, not that he seemed to care. He let you linger there in that moment for a while, just to watch the torture on your face.

“Come here.” 

The command in his voice only served to turn you on more, of course you obliged. Walking over to him you finally met his eyes once more, his intense soul piercing gaze burned dark with lust, a look you were oh so familiar with. 

Lewis drew you down to his level, brushing his nose over yours, allowing his breath to tickle your cheek as he teased your lips with his own, never quite granting you a kiss but threatening it nonetheless. 

Cupping your chin in between his thumb and his forefinger he caught your gaze once more, placing the softest of kisses on your lips finally, so soft you could be convinced it never happened, before he parted his lips once more. 

“Show me how much you missed it.” 

You fell to your knees so quickly the skin of your knees stung, not caring for your own comfort you were hungry for the dick that was now just inches from your lips, wrapping a hand around the base you kissed the tip as Lewis held the back of your head. 

“No hands yet baby, let me feel all of that pretty little throat first.” 

Your skirt rose up around your waist as you took him further into your mouth, slowly you took every single inch of him, nuzzling the tip of your nose into his still neatly trimmed tufts of curly hair at his base. Lewis held you there, a groan escaping his lips every time he felt you fight your gag reflex around him, he got off on the sounds of you struggling to hold him there, not because he wanted to torture you, he just loved how much you wanted to please him. 

“Mmm, good girl…such a very good girl.” 

-

Lewis smiled as he watched you catch your breath, your mouth dripping with saliva that he was happy to help wipe away for you with his thumb. 

“Need more?” 

He knew just how hungry you always were for more of him, a hunger that never seemed to be satisfied no matter how many times you had him, and you had him many times. 

You wasted no time in answering him with the best way you knew how, taking him back into your mouth, this time you were allowed to work him with your hands too, making him fall back a little with pleasure and he moaned out curse word after curse word, fighting the urge to close his eyes with the want to watch what he had often told you, was his favourite girl suck his dick. 

Breathing was secondary, an inconvenience in that moment, when you wanted to do nothing but satisfy the man above you. Time after time you let him hit the back of your throat, moment after moment you fought back against your need to breathe, if you could have negated need for anything else and to just stay in that moment, Lewis’ dick buried in your throat as every little groan left his lips to praise you, the strokes of your hair, of your face, the jolts of his body, told you of all the ways you made him feel good, you would have. 

-

It was quite the contradiction how gentle he was with you as he urged you off of him, guiding your lips back to his so he could kiss you deeper this time, before he pulled away a little. 

“Stand up.” 

You wondered for a moment, if he even knew how hot he sounded as he commanded you, you wondered if he played to it on purpose or if it just came naturally, either way nothing was sexier to you in that moment. 

The very moment you did just as you were told, Lewis let his hands find the outside of your thighs, being so careful to not break eye contact he let his fingers trace up your skin until he found just what he was looking for, your panties. 

So expertly he pulled them off of you, allowing them to gather at your feet, he guided you out of them without you even noticing, still looking into your eyes his tongue fell to your clit with little effort, a smile drew across his lips as he felt you tremble with pleasure. His tongue drew careful circles on your clit, holding you up as he felt you grow weaker and weaker under his control, waves of intense pleasure rippled through your body before it came to an abrupt halt as Lewis turned you around. 

“Sit down baby, it’s time I showed you how much I missed you.” 

He led you down onto him so gently, yet he didn’t give you a moment to adjust to him, letting the entirety of his thickness stretch you immediately, revelling in the gasp you let out as he filled you whole. 

His lips danced violent kisses along your neck, nibbling on the skin as he enjoyed the hug of your walls for a moment, one hand cupping your breast, the other placed at the top of your thigh, his fingers dancing over your nub, teasing the throbbing more and more until he decided it was time to remind you of exactly what you were missing out on. 

Placing one of your feet on his knees, he commanded the other to do the same, laying you back into the support of his body.

“Look in the mirror…” 

You did as you were told, shocked by how explicit the sight was at first, it looked like a scene from something that belonged on the Hub yet knowing that it was his dick that was inside of you, his thighs that held all of your weight, his lips that seemed to never quite be able to pull away from the skin of your neck for very long, made you find a confidence you didn't know you had. 

He stole your breath from you the very moment he began to fuck up into you with little care, deep hard thrusts that meant there was not a moment for you to catch it again, especially not with his hand wrapped around your throat so he could growl into your ear as his other hand tapped on your clit just enough to make you feel its presence, careful he was to not push you over the edge so quickly, so selfish he was for control. 

“This pussy…baby, fuck…this pussy, who owns it?” 

His breath hitched in his throat, each word was a struggle as he fucked you, a mixture of pleasure and exhaustion washed over him, yet he had to ask you, he always had to ask you. 

“Yours…it is always yours, Lewis.” 

He never doubted it, it wasn’t confirmation he needed nor was it reassurance, Lewis knew it belonged to him, he had always known, but every part of him loved to hear you moan exactly that. 

“You watching how I’m fucking you?” 

Lewis growled the words into your ear as he nibbled on it. You nodded a response, that was about all you could manage as your mouth was too busy moaning. 

“You see how your pussy was made to take me, baby?” 

Again you nodded, you saw it, of course you saw it, you believed no one looked as good together as the both of you did, the mirror only confirmed it. 

“Now watch how I make this pussy purr for me.” 

The strokes were somehow deeper now, his tapping on your clit became circling so rapidly that you felt yourself quickly lose control. How was it possible that a man who hadn’t had you in so long, still knew exactly how to work your body? 

“Mmm don’t hold back, baby…I can feel how close you are.” 

You could tell from the husk of his voice that he was right there with you too, waiting patiently for you to reach your peak before he would ever entertain his own. 

“Lewis…please…” 

You were begging him for a release he was working hard to give you, yet you needed to beg him, you needed him to know that only he could give you exactly what your body, and your mind,  needed at that moment. 

“I know, baby, I know…give it to me, I’ve got you…I promise, I’ve got you…let go…” 

As the last syllables of his words left his lips you felt the explosion happen, a knot had built so tightly inside of you that the moment it released you lost all control, rendering all of your senses paralysed you could feel nothing but the man that was beginning to crumble under you too. 

His soothing words had turned quickly into moans, hisses in your ear as he felt you squeeze him until you drew out his explosion too. Lewis thrust into you quickly, sloppily, until every last drop of his cum was laced over your walls, his cock throbbing as his high lessened, your pussy doing just the same. 

-

He didn’t rush to lift you off of him, nor did he try to take himself out of you, instead he allowed you to rotate your hips every so slightly, an exhausted movement yet a movement you always did, Lewis knew how much you loved to keep him inside of you, how even in your most sensitive state, feeling him against your walls felt too good to lose. 

It felt like hours passed when really it was only minutes, still sat in the same position, his dick never quite softening inside of you, you kissed passionately, both of you sweaty, both of you overwhelmed, yet nothing you had done until that moment had really shown how much you missed each other. 

You began to stir first, as Lewis felt you attempt to stand up he held you down with his fingertips against your upper thighs just to kiss you some more. 

“You have somewhere to be?” 

Both of you knew that no matter how you answered this question, it would be the same response from him. You shook your head. 

“Good, because I’m not quite done with you yet. Let me get you all cleaned up.” 

He lifted you up with ease, finally slipping out of you with a dick that still was semi hard. You couldn’t help it, you wanted to touch it and so you wrapped your hand around his dick once more. 

“Already? Damn baby, you really did miss it…” 

“I missed you too, Lewis.” 

You stroked his ego to the same rhythm you stroked his dick. 

“But maybe I missed this just a little more.” 

You giggled as you felt the sting of his hand slapped against your ass cheek as he commanded you to the next room he was going to make you fall apart in.

[padawansuggest]

Hey so if you’re new here and haven’t been around longer than ten minutes you might not know that my fave fave fave tropes ever are 1: time travel and 2: Obi-Wan getting adopted by Mandos, so whenever I find a time travel fic where Obi goes back in time and is promptly adopted by Mandos I get so excited trust me there are a lot but rn what I really really really want is a fic where I combine one of my fave headcanon type things that I like to put in fics with my second fave trope being Force Sensitive Jaster Mereel and then combined with Obi-Wan and Anakin (and probably Shmi too lmao let’s have a force sensitive babies party here) as force ghosts with Jaster and suddenly one of them comes back all ‘YALL I KNOW HOW TO GO BACK IN TIME I FIGURED IT OUT’ and so they all go back in time with the pure goal of saving their peoples (Mandos, Jedi AND slaves okay we makin a trifecta of people who got the worst bullshit in Star Wars two of which got all the blame when literally all of it was Sith and slavers faults) and Jaster goes back in time to Korda 6 and looks around for Jango so they could retreat only for little grunts of ouchies I fell to happen and he looks over to see a small pile of toddlers Obi-Wan, Anakin, Shmi, (Boba and like six other clones you know I have to) and is all ‘oh shit. Please be potty trained please be potty trained please be potty trained’ and now he has to go find Jango to call them back to their ships and tell Jango he in fact has a bunch of new vod’ika all of whom still have adult memories and also can you hold Boba please he’s a crying mess he just wants Jango nvm you can be that one’s Buir he bites lmao NO DONT HOLD HIM LIKE THAT JANIKA I RAISED YOU BETTER and now they’re back to Mandalore and Jaster is all ‘shit. We made this plan to save ALL our peoples. Well fuck.’ And now he’s all wait a sec and calls up the Jedi (yes they had him on hold for 3 hours and he kept bouncing between departments it was very annoying with Obi-Wan’s little fangies teething on his vambraces making the most annoying sound ever the whole time) and now he’s able to sorta blank for a solid 30 seconds before blurting out that they have force sensitive babies and the Jedi can’t have them and then Anakin HANGS UP ON THEM YOU LIL SHIT THAT DIDNT SOUND GOOD and the Jedi sorta like text him back all ‘??? Good for you???’ And now Jaster has to call them again and explain that he needs help with these lil shits teething on his armor and throwing people into walls when they sneeze and the temple is all ‘listen we can send out a master with docs but we’re a lil busy looking for a Stewjoni initiate that disappeared from the nursery’ ‘oh you mean this one?’ *holds up Obi by an ankle who’s chewing furiously on a vambrace’ and says they can’t have him back the kara gave him that baby!!!!! So now they have to send out a team whereupon Plo and Dooku are suckered into a -three way with Jaster- a deal upon which the Mandos will help the Jedi leave the Republic who use them like attack dogs and then they can stop slavery together and raise babies!

Anyways. I just think that would be neat.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt.49

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Westeros POV

Words: 3034

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12   Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20 Part 21 

Part 22 Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26 Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39  Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44

Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48

Even in her dreams, Alizah saw fire. Three figures depicted by flames lurk around a corner with hoods pulled up and over their face. She saw the twisted lines of their mouths though.

They watch.

Watch as the docked ship is capsized by the black tentacles of some unseen beast.

One of the trio smiles while gripping a pendant around their neck. The lips of the other two move in an incantation yet Alizah couldn’t hear a thing.

The three figures turn with a swish of their heavy, gray cloaks and they leave the scene of the shipwreck. From where they came or where they were going to, Alizah didn’t know.

Slowly, one lifts its head to Alizah as if it could see her. But that would be impossible. . . Wouldn’t it? It keeps staring at her from under its hood, unmoving and causing a prickle to spike in Alizah’s neck.

The odd smile that stretched its horrid lips made Alizah's stomach curdle. The creatures that stood before her were known she had seen before. They were wholly beings of the Shadowlands.

It's companions raise their heads up in her direction as well. Wearing identical smiles.

Honestly, the figures did strike fear in her even if they came to her not in their true colors but those of fire and heat. Scared as she was, Alizah tried to stretch out the vision, make it last longer but the flames flicker violently until they’re snuffed out and Alizah is left in complete darkness.

Alizah’s feet hit the floor the very second she awoke. She stumbled in a drunk-like stupor that was really due to her abrupt movement. Trying her best not to panic as the vision she had just seen replayed in her brain.

A letter. Yes, Alizah needed someone to write this down immediately to send to the Temple. She’d have to alert Prince Rhaegar at once. Somehow Alizah knew what harbor that was and who that ship belonged to for it’s sails bore the Burning Heart of R’hllor.

In a specific pattern, Alizah knocks loudly on the wall. In a few short moments there’s a reply from the other side and the adjoining door to the other suite swings open. Haakon and Kafele enter silently , awaiting for Alizah’s command.

“Trouble has reached nuha kosh.” She quietly announces to the two escorts. “Forces in the Shadowlands are preventing her from leaving. Why, I do not know yet. Something terrible sunk her ship. They are stranded in Asshai. Latilth is still too young to carry all of them back to Volantis, not to forget the extra passengers that the darkin pose.”

Kafele released a shuddering breath while Haakon’s jaw merely tenses. “The temple needs to know immediately.”

“Agreed. But if these assailants saw R’hllor’s sigil on the ship’s sails, then they know to look out for more. Whose to say they won’t attack more temple ships if we send them?” Alizah paced in front of them. Her personal brazier that she used to scry immediately lit up with flames with a flick of her wrist.

Pausing, Haakon runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “What are you proposing, my lady?”

If (y/n) was possibly in danger, they would need to act quickly. Another letter to Volantis could take weeks if not months. And since Rhaegar’s army was not ready to attack King’s Landing yet- “Prince Rhaegar wants to see his wife. We will send him to her and he will prove himself loyal and worthy.”

“The others in his regime might disapprove. Their numbers were more than halved in the last battle.” Kafele prompts a good point but Alizah already made up her mind. She would not risk the safety of (y/n). Her dark eyes, in that eerie way that put off many, meet Kafele’s. What she saw instead of the physical man was an orange burst of life that burned in the center of him.

“And then there’s the Mad King. If he makes a move-“

“R’hllor has waited centuries for our champion’s birth. If the unfortunate happens and (y/n) dies, we will all be doomed. We act quick.”

“Yes, Lady Alizah.” They say in unison.

Haakon remained behind to draft a letter to be sent ahead to the Red Temple while Alizah and Kafele travel the dark corridors to the guarded wing that belonged to the Dragon Prince. They wanted to prevent their entry, distrusting these foreigners that acted so privileged.

When Storm’s End found out about Lady Lyanna Baratheon’s pregnancy, even more soldiers were strung about the castle. Especially near the royal apartments that also offered a large set of rooms for Rhaegar.

“You’ll have to wait until the morning. No one, except for those on an approved list, are allowed in.”

“Go back to your rooms.”

Kafele wanted to slam their heads against the wall for the disrespect they showed to a High Priestess of R’hllor.

Alizah was used to such rudeness though. It would not be the first or last time that a man has talked down to her.

“That’s enough, Jir.” Lady Lyanna Baratheon spoke up from behind Alizah and Kafele. Her face was like beautifully carved stone and just as cold as she glared at the guards. She had two other guards hastily catching up with her as if she had outrun them. The swelling of her belly did little to stop her from being faster. “These are our honored guests sent from Prince Rhaegar’s own wife.”

They bit their lips and obey their lady even if they didn’t agree with her.

Lyanna smiled at the two. “I’m so sorry about that. Lord Robert has become so protective since finding out about the baby.”

“I do not blame him, Your Grace.” Alizah bends forward in a small bow. “I’m afraid I carry bad news with me. Something that I know Prince Rhaegar needs to hear right away.”

Nodding fiercely, Lyanna leads them up the hall.

When they arrived to Rhaegar’s own room, loud voices could immediately be heard coming from his partially opened door. Lyanna froze, arm out to stop Alizah and everyone else from stepping closer. Instead she cocks her head to the side to listen.

“When were you going to tell me?! Did you know all along?”

“Prince Oberyn, please settle down.” The second voice belonged to Rhaegar. Alizah closed her eyes and focused on straining her hearing.

Oberyn Martell laughed mirthfully. “You’re not king yet, Rhaegar. So don’t tell me what to do. Did you know your wife was alive this entire time? Did you know when my men died alongside your’s? I had to learn this from a fisherman!”

“I just found out. I promise. Three strangers from the Red Temple in Volantis arrived but a few weeks ago.

Things go quiet for a few moments and Alizah began to believe the confrontation over until the Dornish prince spoke again. “What about Elia? Why would I continue to stand by you?”

“I’m sorry about Elia. I did believe my wife to be dead. You heard my genuine anguish. But she is alive and our marriage is still valid. I will make things right by you. We can make something work.” Rhaegar adds firmly “And don’t think my father will not go after Dorne. They all know we’re backed up by Sunspear. All it would take for him to wipe Sunspear off of the map is a war ship filled to the brim with wildfire jars and one good archer.”

“He can possess all the mages he wants, but we all know that King’s Landing itself will be the victim of his wrath.”

Prince Oberyn needed something else to make up for the loss of the crown for his sister.

Alizah pushed past Lyanna’s arm and walks forward to the door. It’s easily pushed open, startling the two blue-blooded men that had been submerged in a heated argument. “Gentlemen, if I may.”

Almost in relief, Rhaegar sighed out “Lady Alizah. This is Prince Oberyn of Dorne. Oberyn, this is the High Priestess Lady Alizah from the Red Temple.”

Pursing his lips, Oberyn takes in the small lady in front of him. While her face was very odd, it was not unpleasant; the roundness of it gave her a childlike appearance. At once, Oberyn knew she was blind from the odd way her eyes didn’t move. “I have met many of you priestesses during my travels in Essos.”

“We number in the thousands.” Alizah smiled at him. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but I heard that you want compensation.”

“And what does R’hllor’s church offer?” He asked while crossing his arms in front of him. “Are you rich in gold?”

Even with the dark depths of blindness, Alizah turned her face to where a small fireplace hummed with fire. “Is gold what you desire?”

Her voice. . . There was a change in it that made Oberyn bite down on his tongue. What strange magic did this girl wield? Those black lips of her’s must have whispered hundreds of spells. Such lips reminded Oberyn of the sorcerers that were infamous in Qarth. Now they had truly terrifying powers.

”If it’s a substitute husband for your sister, something can always be arranged once Prince Rhaegar and Princess (y/n) take the throne. If it’s indeed gold you want, then that can also be offered to you once the war with Aerys is won. Right now though, there are other things to be worried about.” The height of the flames rose, much like she had done when Rhaegar first met her. “I had a prophetic dream. Someone is trying to prevent (y/n) from leaving Asshai. Her ship was sunk and I fear for her if we don’t act fast.”

There was little Rhaegar could do to hide his excitement. His immediate reaction would have been to get Robert and ready their fleet. But. . . There was King Aerys. Unpredictable and dangerous Aerys who could set all of King’s Landing aflame in wildfire at any moment. Matters in Essos still weren’t resolved. Rhaegar had wanted to have Aerys disposed before (y/n)’s arrival so he could hand her the crown of the queen. His queen.

This could be his way to amend leaving her alone at death’s door. He could right his wrongs.

“If I leave and Aerys tries something. . .”

Her smile curled into something a little more devious that had Rhaegar shivering despite not being cold. “R’hllor has eyes everywhere. Spies are in no short supply. You will have to put a certain degree of trust in me though. Which for men like you may be extremely difficult.”

Oberyn looked to the Westerosi prince, weighing his options. Dorne was already involved. There was no going back. If Rhaegar spoke the truth, then Oberyn should take his apology and move on.

The light on Rhaegar's face at the mention of his wife made Oberyn crumble in defeat. He'd known that Rhaegar was still deeply in love with (y/n) and only accepted Elia as his new bride grudgingly.

“My men and I will stay behind.” Oberyn nods, now formulating a plan. “I’m sure Lord Baratheon will want to stay as well to protect his land and keep an eye to the capital.”

Rhaegar grinned and pats Oberyn on the shoulder. The joy radiating off of his face was contagious as Oberyn easily returned it with the same confidence. To Alizah, Rhaegar beamed. “We’ll arrange a meeting this instant. Lady Alizah, we will provide ships for (y/n) and sail out as soon as we can.”

Aerys could have struck the head off of the messenger that trembled before his crazed glare. “What do you mean, you can’t find Varys?”

Helplessly, the young man looked around him for any sort of ally. Eyes immediately shot to the floor, not wanting to meet his pleading gaze that begged for mercy.

The members of the Small Council looked equally guilty when Aerys ordered him to be wheeled away to the dungeons.

Ser Gerold Hightower, Commander of the Kingsguard, kept his face neutral for it was the only thing to save him from treason now. The rest of the Small Council would be found equally to blame if King Aerys found out about helping Varys out of King’s Landing. As the Spider claimed, it was part of the plan and utterly essential that he flee for the time being. He’d received a letter from Storm’s End where he kept in touch with Rhaegar Targaryen’s army. This was not an easy feat as the entire city was under strict lockdown.

The City Watch was told to use brutality if necessary. Fear gripped the capitol with iron fingers. Ships were banned from leaving or entering Blackwater Bay. The threat of hunger was quickly flamming that fear into anger.

Many nights, Gerold could hear the fighting outside of the Red Keep’s walls. Citizens frustrated and fed up with the Mad King that would sooner kill them all than do the right thing. Rumors even of the mass production of wildfire had leaked to the populace.

Ser Gerold found Aerys’ eyes heavily on him. They were mere pinpricks against the areas of red that should be white. How long had it been since he had slept? He’d have to make sure to speak to the Grand Maester to add some milk of the poppy to his next drink just to knock him out for a few hours.

“Send the word out. The Spider is to be found. Dead or alive but I want his head. Don’t come back to me until either his head is in my hands or your’s.”

Fine by him. Ser Gerold stiffly bows before leaving the musky Great Hall. His gold cloak swished behind him. There would be no use now in sending word to the City Watch. Varys was already out of the city. Had been for several hours. As secretive as he was, Varys told them that once he arrived to his destination he would send a letter. One of his little sparrows would be delivering it.

After Aerys asked Varys to find an assassin to send after Rhaegar, the infamous Spider began weaving his intricate web and readied himself for the weeks to come leaving up to his exodus. He did leave some instruction for the rest of the Council members. Well, they were each told separately. Everyone had their role and jobs during his absence to prevent the king from destroying the entire city. Which by the looks of it was an impending reality if they didn’t do anything.

Before leaving, Varys revealed the thousands of secret passageways that ran through the Red Keep. For things pertaining to their criminal plotting, they were to use them to find the forgotten chambers that held the various dragon skulls that belonged to Aerys’ ancestors.

After exchanging his gold cloak for a black one, Ser Gerold sweeps through the corridors with silent steps.

As was expected, the others had shown up as soon as King Aerys dismissed everyone else in the Great Hall. All that shouting had worn him out and forced him to retire for the evening. Better to have him shut up in his rooms so the most important men in Westeros could slip away.

In front of the large skull that once belonged to the Black Dread stood his fellow council members.

“I’ll give it to the Spider, he’s quite smart.” Master of coin, Lord Qarlton Chelstid pathetically grumbled out. He rubbed his hands together not for warmth but to relieve his nerves. Out of everyone, he had been the most difficult to really trust. Jaime once told Lord Hightower how he thought Lord Chelstid was a cravenly man that would reveal his belly when danger came. Varys’ patience was their saving grace in having Lord Chelstid agree to the plan and assure his loyalty that he would not tell a soul.

“Well of course the king would want him tracked down. It was inevitable.” the Lord of Tides corrected him. While all had benefited in some way from Aerys’ decaying sanity, their good fortunes would not continue if the people of the capitol rioted or if Aerys blew them all up with his wildfire.

Having done his own scheming against Rhaegar, Lord Staunton -the master of laws- was forced to swallow his pride too. He didn’t look forward to the day when Rhaegar would come and claim the throne as king. Staunton grimaced at the fact that he would have to beg on his hands an knees for forgiveness.

They all would. Prince Rhaegar was no longer the boy they had known. Word had spread fast of his cruelty on the battlefield. The news of (y/n)’s supposed death had come to an utter shock to the prince. Enough to change him thoroughly and in the most twisted way.

If they were to gain his mercy, it would come at a great cost.

“And now comes the second phase of Varys’ plan.” Gerold Hightower turned to the Grand Maester Pycelle. “Did he take the milk of the poppy?”

He nodded eagerly. “Oh yes! Every drop and he did not suspect a thing. He should be asleep for some time.”

In unison they let out a sigh of relief. “Well then, gentlemen, let us make our way then to those blasted pyromancers.”

Nervous at the prospect of bumping into the hordes of angry civilians, they would take the utmost care to travel through the city. It’s said that those of the Alchemist Guild worked in the underground of King’s Landing where they could perform their work safely.

Well, as safe as they could considering the material they worked with. Added the danger of making thousands of jars containing wildfire. They were mass producing the destruction of King’s Landing.

First and foremost they had to be stopped and the remaining wildfire dealt with. Many jars were used in the recent assault against Rhaegar’s forces. By the demand of the king though, the numbers were soon replenished and multiplying. Already many of the apprentices and even one master pyromancer had been killed from the production process. They wouldn’t be the last casualties.

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