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zepskies · 5 months

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Green

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader, Ben and daughter!OC

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

AN: Another one-shot for the BMD-verse, set sometime after "Until Morning" (you'll see). This can be read as standalone as well!

Word Count: 2,500 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Father and daughter fluff, followed by husband and wife spice.~

Read more of the BMD-verse! ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Father and daughter were glaring at one another, gazes locked.

Green against green.

“Young lady, I’m telling you right now. I’m not gonna tolerate any more of your little attitude,” said Ben. “If you want to try me, be my guest.”

He held the ravioli poised on a pink plastic spoon. His daughter Lila sat in her highchair in the kitchen, boldly refusing any more of her lunch.

Her stubborn face reminded him entirely too much of you. But he needed her to eat. He wouldn’t have it said when you came home that he couldn’t feed a damn two-year-old.

He huffed. “Work with me here. Just a couple more bites.”

Lila made a shrill sound of refusal when the spoon came near her face. He knew she could use a spoon just fine. She was being difficult on purpose.

To demonstrate her resolve, she slapped at the ravioli with a chubby little hand, and it ended up splashing back into the bowl. A bit of red sauce splattered onto Ben’s cheek, with a pinch of it hitting his eye.

He blinked in annoyance. “Delilah Marie, I swear to Christ—”

She’s just a baby, a voice that sounded a lot like you infiltrated his mind. It still didn’t take away his aggravation.

“No!” Lila insisted. It was her favorite word, right behind Bluey.

She then pushed the bowl right off the highchair. It spilled ravioli and pasta sauce all over the floor in spectacular fashion. Ben was sitting in his own chair by the dining table, where he moved his feet back at the last moment. She almost got his Italian loafers.

“You gotta be f…” It took every scrap of patience within him to hold his tongue…and breathe calmly through his nose. He didn’t want to reward this destructive, disrespectful behavior, but he also knew that he needed his daughter to eat.

“Want some applesauce?” he said, as a peace offering.

Lila’s face scrunched.

“No applesauce, huh?” Ben muttered. He glanced at the mess across the highchair and the formerly white tile on the floor. “Your mother’s gonna have a conniption.”

“Mommy?” Lila asked. “Mommy’s home?”

“No, she’s not here right now,” Ben replied. “She’ll be home later.”

Lila seemed to understand, because that’s when she got upset again. Her red-stained finger drew a shapeless form in the sauce as she pouted. At least she wasn’t crying.

Ben sighed, once again, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

Fuck it.

“You want some ice cream?” he bribed.

Her sadness dissipated at the thought; she smiled brightly and nodded. “Yeah!”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grumbled.

After a scoop of strawberry ice cream for each of them (she liked it because it was pink), Ben wrangled her up out of the highchair and declared, bath time.

He did fine with the bathing process. He’d helped you with this before, and so he knew what to do in order to wash the sauce off her face, hands, and even her hair. It was what came after the bath that remained a problem.

Lila was stubborn beyond belief, even before she could articulate what it was about the soft green onesie that she didn’t like. No, she wasn’t satisfied until Ben pulled out the yellow Starlight themed pajamas. Probably because they had “Auntie Annie’s” face all over them.

He rolled his eyes, but this wasn’t a hill he needed to die on. He dressed Lila and tried to tuck her into bed for her afternoon nap. The problem was, she refused to lie still in the crib.

Instead, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, using the edge of the crib for balance. He’d be impressed, if she wasn’t trying to climb out and give him a small heart attack.

He grabbed her and gathered her against his chest. Despite the super strength you’d temporarily displayed off and on throughout your pregnancy, Lila’s powers were latent at the moment. Dr. Baker seemed to think Lila would start to display them once she got old enough. Like Ryan, who hadn’t started growing into his powers until around 10 years old.

So for now, Lila was a mostly normal two-year-old who could still get hurt.

Ben frowned. “This is the time you usually go down. Why do you have so much energy?”

She just giggled at him and put both hands on his face, over his eyes.

“Daddy, guess who?”

He sighed, but couldn’t help smiling. As usual, he indulged her.

“Could it be my baby girl?”

He waited until her hands came away from his eyes, and he opened them wide.

“There she is!”

She squealed and giggled and grabbed his hair when he kissed her cheek. In the comfort of his own home, he could afford to be this openly affectionate.

Aw shit, he thought, as something occured to him.

He finally realized why she was so fucking hyper. Maybe it had something to do with the giant scoop of ice cream she’d had for lunch.

Goddamn it. Ben sighed and unwrapped her arm from around his head.

“Okay, let’s watch some TV.”

Lila didn’t seem all that interested in watching anything, or even playing with her toys. She mainly wanted to jump on Ben’s stomach while he was trying to relax on the couch. He put on a football game you taped for him. Or recorded, as you'd said.

“All right, enough. Your old man’s trying to watch the game,” Ben said, bringing Lila down to sit in lap.

That lasted for about two seconds. Thereafter, she was climbing up his chest and trying to smother him with her little hands.

He took her hand from his nose so he could at least breathe in peace.

“Where’s Mommy?” Lila asked, as she sat on his shoulder and beat a little fist on the top of his head.

“She’s with your aunt,” Ben replied. “Well, not your real one, the fake one.”

Lila made a sound of confusion. Realizing that she didn’t know what the hell he meant, he rephrased.

“She’s with your Aunt Annie. They’ll be back soon,” he said.

He didn’t mind you wanting a day out to yourself. What he minded was the attitude you’d struck when he suggested dropping Lila off with Louisa, your actual sister.

“What, you can’t handle her alone for one day?” you’d asked.

His pride hadn’t allowed him to say no to that.

So here he was, with a wily toddler who was doing her damndest to suffocate him. Better attempts than this had failed, but it was still annoying while he was trying to watch the game.

Somehow, he managed to tune it out while he watched the ref make a bad call.

“What was that?! You gotta be kidding me!” Ben said, holding Lila to his chest even as he pointed and shouted at the TV. “Son of a bitch. What a pussy call that was.”

“Bish, bish, bish,” Lila said, making a game out of the word. It called Ben’s attention.

He forgot about the game for a moment when he looked down at her. His eyes widened a fraction, even as a smile pulled at his lips.

“What’d you just say?”

“Bishhhhhh,” Lila repeated. “Somvabishhhh.” Her lips squished like a fish. And then she giggled, like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

“Aw, fuck,” Ben uttered.

And he pressed his lips together with ever widening eyes at what he’d just said.

Lila grinned. “Fack!”

“Uhh, no. No. Don’t say that,” he said, trying to sound stern. Inside, he was trying not to laugh. He didn't really give a shit what she said, but you were particular about the kid not inheriting his vocabulary.

In fact, he was pretty sure you were going to go nuclear for this one.

“Why?” Lila asked.

“Because it’s uh…a bad word,” Ben replied, even though he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. This was what he’d become. A suburban dad.

"And it's not ladylike," he added.

“Fackkkk,” Lila giggled some more.

Christ on a cross. Ben bit the inside of lip hard to stop himself from laughing.

“Whatever. Just don’t say it around your mom,” he relented. He brushed his fingers through her soft brown hair. She preened at the attention, like the little showboat she was.

“Daddyyyy…” Lila wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled as deeply into him as she could, like a koala clinging to a shaking branch.

Ben sighed and rubbed a hand up and down her back as he cradled her against him.

These were the moments he didn’t mind. In fact, these were the moments he did his best to remember. They helped block out the older, darker ones that this kid would never know.

Ben woke to the shutter of a camera going off.

He blinked his bleary eyes open to find you standing there with a highly amused smile on your face, and your phone poised in your hand.

He groaned, but he soon realized that Lila was sleeping in his arms, on his chest. You leaned down and rested a hand on her back. You also greeted him with a kiss to his temple.

“Long day?” you teased quietly.

Ben gave you a deadpan look, one that had you straining to taper down your giggles. Though he drew you closer by your hip and squeezed the soft flesh over your white sundress. He took you in with a lazy once-over.

You looked good. Sexy as hell, really. Your face was glowing and relaxed, and he liked the shade of red you’d done on your nails.

“You have a good time?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, massaging his shoulder. Though you arched a brow. “There’s a catastrophe in the kitchen.”

Ben blinked.

Fuck. He forgot about that.

“Yep,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk of his own. “Right on time for you, baby.”

You chuckled, though your eyes narrowed in warning. “Yeah, right.”

You still helped him put Lila down in the nursery for the rest of her nap. She yawned and turned over onto her back. You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, though you had to smile when it accidentally left the red mark of your lipstick behind.

You bit your lip and gently rubbed it off without waking her up. (An amazing damn feat, as far as you were concerned.)

Ben laid a heavy hand on your back, prompting you to straighten up and turn into his waiting embrace.

His lips curved as he looked down at you. “Hey.”

You laughed quietly. “Hey, yourself.”

Your hands glided up his chest, and further still to hold his face. You brought him down to kiss you, with your fingers slipping into his hair, and your nails dragging along his scalp. He hummed into your mouth.

“Miss me?” you teased.

Ben huffed. As usual though, his answer was in his actions. He held you close for a moment, just to feel you there.

Your arms slipped around his, clinging to his shoulders as you rested against him. This was your safe, comfortable place where you always felt at home.

But, you couldn’t help but break the spell.

“Come on. Clean up on aisle 12,” you quipped, reaching around to smack his ass.

Ben rolled his eyes, but when you pulled away from him, he followed you into the kitchen.

“You know, I had a lot going on. Your kid is a fucking menace,” he said. “Like a bull in a China shop.”

You scoffed. “She’s only my kid when she gives you a hard time. Where do you think she gets it from?”

“You,” he retorted.

You had to laugh at that one. It still didn’t get him out of helping you clean the kitchen from top to bottom.

After a long shower, waking an errant child from her nap, dinner, and a joint effort of getting Lila to sleep for the night, Ben joined you in bed wearing just his usual sweatpants.

You’d opted for some black satin, he noticed.

Good, he thought, for the night to come. You’d spent the whole day getting massaged and moisturized and whatever else women did on a day out.

When he rolled onto his side, you greeted him with a smile and a hand running up his arm, already pulling him toward you. His hand glided along your bare thigh as you hooked it over his hip.

“I need to tell you something, but you’ve gotta promise not to say anything to anyone,” you whispered in the small space between his face and yours, and you tapped his chin.

Ben raised a brow and squeezed your thigh. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait until long after he’d undressed you?

“What?” he asked.

“Annie’s pregnant!” you said with a wide smile. “Six weeks. She just told me today.”

Ben blinked at that one. “Is it Hughie’s kid?”

“Wha…of course, it is!”

“Wow. Guess he had it in him after all,” Ben remarked. “Who woulda thought.”

You shook your head, but his grin made you laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, through your remaining giggles, though you leaned forward and stole a kiss. It led Ben to want more, and more of you.

He started to ply you with slow, lazy kisses that grew deeper, becoming all-consuming as his tongue warred against yours. His hands dove under the satin covering your body, and his thumbs brushed the sides of your breasts.

“Maybe it’s time we go for number two,” he said.

You uttered another incredulous laugh, gripped a fist in his hair and tugged. “Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me,” Ben said. He rolled you onto your back and pinned you there. “Ain’t no way we’re stopping at one. Lila needs a brother.”

“You can’t even handle one,” you teased. Your hands slid up his arms and then down his chest. “Baby, we can talk about having more kids, but—”

“And? We’re talking now,” he said. He dipped his head to start kissing a hot, wet line down your neck. It made your breath falter and your back start to arch. Your hips shifted against his, trying to find friction. You could feel his length hardening against your thigh.

“Ben,” you warned, and implored, but the graze of his teeth on your neck made you shudder.

Your grip on his arms tightened. “Please…”

“Please what?” he smirked against your skin. His hips rocked against your heated core.

This conversation was going into a no man’s land very fast.

You literally took matters into your own hands…by reaching down and grasping your husband’s cock through his sweatpants. You gave him a demanding squeeze.

His breath hitched. Ben paused, unlatching from your neck, and turning his lips toward your cheek.

“I’m listening,” he said, in a gritted voice. You smirked.

“We can, and we will talk about this,” you promised. “Just not when you’re about to be balls-deep inside me.”

You were back on birth control anyway (the pill this time).

Ben chuckled. His hand reached up and smoothed your hair away from your forehead.

“Fine,” he conceded. A smirk grew across his face. “But we can still practice.”

A giggle fell from your lips, just before he claimed them once again.

AN: A little callback to the BMD Epilogue at the end there. 😂

What did you think about the father/daughter time? And do you think Ben won against either of the ladies in his life? 🤣

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxoviennaa @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

#Green #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #Dad!Ben #new dad #father daughter feels #husband and wife spice #daughter OC #Soldier Boy imagine #BMD verse #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #Break Me Down verse #zepskies writes

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amethystfairy1 · 1 month

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Why does Tango wear a crop top? 🤔

Let's find out...

10 Years Ago

Under-City Labs

“Little spark!”

“What!? What!?” Tango about toppled from the step-ladder he was sitting on, in order to reach up and tinker with the guts of a massive sorting machine he’d designed for identifying resources from deliveries and then transporting them to the lower levels.

He spun where he sat to swing his boots over the edge of the step-ladder and peered down.

Doc was standing there with a supremely disappointed expression on his face. Tango immediately filed back through all of his doing within the past month trying to figure out what he’d messed up this time.

The creeper mutant tapped one loafer a few times.

Tango matched ruby red eyes with him, trying to keep any nervousness off his face.

“Y-Yeah? What can I do for ya, Director?”

“Do not call me that.”

“Doc. What can do for ya, Doc?”

Doc’s natural eye narrowed.

“What are you wearing?”

Tango glanced down at his outfit. Currently he was wearing a redstone streaked old tee shirt he’d long since torn the sleeves off of. It was oversized, to be honest he might’ve stolen it off of Jimmy in high school, he didn’t really remember. His claws were on full display, caked with grime considering he put them use helping him work with the finer wiring.

Instead of using. Y’know. Pliers or something.

“W-Work clothes? Why?”

“Those are not work clothes. Work clothes are gloves and long sleeves, Tango.” Doc replied with the tone of a mother hen, and the little blaze-born whined in the back of his throat.

“But it’s sooooo hot in here! I’m already on fire!”

“So you are. That does not mean you cannot get burnt or cut working with these machines.”

“I’m careful…” Tango began but Doc raised his eyebrow at him with a firmly set jaw and folded his arms, augmentation over green skin.

“…ish.”

“Gloves and long sleeves.”

“But Doc! I also use these for working with wiring, it’s easier than pliers!”

Tango made grabby hands down from the step ladder at Doc, clicking the sharpened tips of his claws together.

Doc’s augmented eye adjusted, red glow flickering. He tilted his head and heaved a ragged sigh, raking back longish dark brown hair with his metal hand and planting his other hand on his hip.

“I can see that, and for small projects that is fine, but not when you’re working in mechanical here.”

“But it’s so hot.”

“Then take breaks!”

“I don’t wanna take breaks!”

“Tango!” Doc’s tone dropped one octave from his already deep voice, and Tango flinched. His flares momentarily went out completely before sputtering to life again. He’d been practically raised by this man, and now that he’d started at the labs earlier this year he’d been trying to learn the balancing act of their workplace dynamic.

Which, as it turned out, wasn’t all that different from their dynamic anywhere else. Doc was allergic to authority and despised formality, for the labs was more like a big conglomeration of the under-city’s best and brightest just kind of…figuring things out. There was a loose hierarchical structure, but that was more just so the assignment of workflow would be more comprehensible and less completely and utter chaos.

So Tango huffed and spun back toward the machine he was tinkering with, shoving his hands up into the wiring, tongue poking out and worrying between his sharp teeth as he shouted back in reply.

“Fine, fine, fine, I hear ya! Gloves and long sleeves from tomorrow on out, you got it!”

The Next Day.

“Tango!”

Tango fumbled the comparator he was holding and dropped it to the ground with a clatter he jumped so hard when that booming voice shouted over his workshop area within the mechanical branch of the labs.

“Why have you gotta scare me like that!?” The blaze-born demanded as he turned to see Doc picking his way around the chaos of Tango’s workshop area. It wasn’t exactly organized, but it was organized enough for him, and sure, the last time Pearl had visited him during work hours she’d about had a conniption, but whatever. This was how he worked best.

“What is that!?” Doc gestured at Tango pointedly.

“What? You said gloves and long sleeves, so I’m wearing gloves and long sleeves!” Tango was barely able to hold back the mischievous grin that tried to clamber upon his face.

Doc looked him up and down twice.

“You’re kidding me.”

“Gloves and long sleeves. See?” Tango set the comparator he’d been carrying aside and then threw his arms out and made jazz hands. His flares crackles and his blaze-rods danced and twirled to mirror his amusement at Doc’s rather stunned expression.

Tango had traded the old cut-off tee for a tight, bright red cropped long sleeve that cut just beneath his pecs, leaving the entirety of his toned stomach exposed down to his belt, which held several tools as well as a carabiner clip for his gloves. His brown work gloves were new, Doc had gotten them for him as apart of his toolkit for starting work in the mechanical sector of the labs full-time after having helped out more and more since his mid-teens. They still felt a bit stiff, but Tango supposed they’d break in the more he wore them.

Doc planted his head into his hands and groaned.

“Little spark, you’re going to drive me insane, aren’t you?”

“Pleased to be working with you too!”

Tango saluted, then spun on his heel to return to his work, his tail coiling and twisting cheerfully behind him, and Doc rolled his eyes, but didn’t fight him anymore on it.

...

And there you have it! That's why Tango wears a crop top! Because he's a little shit who subscribes to the idea of malicious compliance!

This was a bit short for my taste to post on A03 with the entire series proper, but I felt like just writing it anyway, and I figured would be fun to have them over here! I'll be tagging little stuff like this as 'ttsbc ficlets' and if you have any other small seeming innocuous questions about TTSBC or Traveling Thieves that you think would be fun to see answered in this format, please do send me an ask! I think it'll be fun and as some of y'all who have followed me for awhile may know, I struggle with writing short, so this seems like it'll be good practice!

Hope you liked it! 💖

#fanfic #hermitcraft #through the sky blue cracks #traffic smp #docm77 #tangotek #ttsbc ficlets #worldbuilding #writing #ficlet

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fantasylandloser · 1 year

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Cuddle Buddies pt.2

Pairing: rafe x reader

part 1 to cuddle buddies is here

a/n: there will be three parts to this and I'm working on the third as we speak but for now enjoy pt.2 and leave your thoughts

warnings: making out, a little bit controlling rafe, lmk if there is more

******

You were embarrassed with yourself, knowing you were about to break the unspoken agreement between you and Rafe. Though neither of you had said it out loud, the rule was only storm nights. Well that was your rule anyway, but you needed to see him. When you knocked on his door, you weren’t even sure if he would open it, but it swung open in seconds. Confusion adorned Rafe’s face at the sight of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, looking around the hallway like he was expecting something to come out and attack.

“I… had a bad dream.” You whisper, embarrassed you even came to him about this. “Can I sleep in your room?” You ask, wringing your hands together. You’re not sure why you think he’s gonna say no, he lets you sleep in his room all the time. But these are new waters for the two of you.

Rafe’s eyes soften as he opens the door the rest of the way, his eyes taking in your nervous figure.. “Yeah..yeah.” He repeats, nodding his head. You let out a breath of relief, happy he didn’t make it a big deal.

You push yourself into his room, like you’d done many times before, making your way to your side of his bed.

“You know you don’t have to ask, right?” Rafe says once you’ve gotten settled. You’re facing him and you see the sincerity in his eyes. “You can sleep in here whenever you want.” Rafe says his face turns red when you grin at him. “I like having you here I guess..” He finishes, avoiding your stare.

“Your dad would have a conniption.” You tell him, making him roll his eyes.

“You don’t always have to be perfect for him, you know.” He says.

“No you don’t have to be perfect for him, because you’re his son and he loves you unconditionally.” You sigh, at the look on his face like he’s ready to protest. “But I’m from the cut, and I have nothing, and Ward gave me everything.” You reach up soothing the wrinkle in his brow. He looked deep in thought.

“You should be loved unconditionally.” You smile at his words. I could love you unconditionally. Rafe thought intrusively. He didn’t say it though. He was proactive, he would just show you.

*******

Since that night you started going to Rafe for every small inconvenience. It started with JJ being mad at you, about being ‘with’ Rafe, after John B spilled the beans. He gave you a hug, told you he’d come around if he was really your best friend, but Rafe didn’t like JJ so he hoped he didn’t. Then it was everything suddenly being too heavy even though Rafe knew you were bullshitting because he’d seen you lift heavier stuff. Once you even asked him to open a jar. Rafe couldn’t lie though, he loved it. Being needed by you gave him a purpose.

He knew you were plenty self-sufficient, but he liked that you wanted him to do things for you. Especially things he knew you could do on your own because that meant you asked him to do it, just because you liked the way he did it. Rafe couldn’t explain it.

The two of you were growing close. Everyone could tell. The way you two would constantly hang around each other, the decrease in bickering, the lingering touches, and all the flirting. The flirting was constant too, and almost on autopilot. At first it was subtle, you poking Rafe’s cheeks to mess with him, him smiling and laughing while you did. Then it became bolder, Rafe would pull you towards him by your waist. He’d stare at you while he was talking to someone else. He would even play in your hair sometimes, and you’d let him.

Neither of you were oblivious of your feelings for each other, but it seemed like everything was much easier if it wasn’t spoken on. Well that’s how it felt for a little while. Rafe had started including you when he brought his friends over to hang out, or even when he was working out. What he didn’t like was that Topper had taken a liking to you, and since the two of you kept telling everyone that things weren’t like that, he thought you were up for grabs.

Rafe kept telling Topper things like “she’s not dating right now” or “you’re not her type, bro” but Topper was persistent.

“Did you know Top was gonna ask me out?” You ask, as soon as Rafe walks through the door, sweaty from his run. Rafe tries his best to control his reaction, not wanting to get overly angry and upset you.

“He said something about it.” He tells you, going to the sink to get water. You squint your eyes at him for millisecond before quickly going back to neutral, but he caught it.

“And you’re okay with that?” The way you phrased the question made it seem like you were asking for permission, but your tone gave him the vibe that that wasn’t what you meant.

He started to gulp down water before he answered, making you slightly impatient. “Do you want me to be okay with that?” He asks you, throwing the ball back in your court. Rafe didn’t want to make himself vulnerable to you, not if you didn’t reciprocate.

“Rafe.” You deadpan displeased with him for answering a question with a question.

“Okay fine. No, I'm not okay with that.” He tells you. “We… we have something here. And I don’t want you dating other guys. Especially not Topper.” It’s a bit controlling the way he says it, but it settles every nerve in the pit of your stomach.

“Okay.” You say simply, confusing Rafe because you usually wanted to argue about every topic.

“Okay? That’s it?” Rafe asks, his brows lifting in surprise.

“Yeah that’s it.”

That was the first time Rafe expressed his feelings for you. It was controlling but it was perfect for you, for him. The second time he expressed feelings for you was on his birthday.

Ward had you running errands for him all day and it was driving Rafe insane. He didn’t want the insane party his friends were going to throw for him, or all the gifts he was gonna get. He just wanted to see you. You’d been gone since before he woke up and he’d only received a text from you telling him happy birthday and that you’d give him his gift later.

He didn’t want to admit it but he spent the whole day, waiting for you to come home. It wasn’t until the sunset and family dinner had already started that you came back. Rafe was on his feet as soon as he heard your keys jingle. A wide grin on his face when he watched you walk through the door with a birthday hat on, a large cake and many balloons.

“Happy Birthday!” You say loudly, a large grin on your face.

“Finally you made it back. I was thinking that list was too long.” Rafe had to refrain from rolling his eyes at his dad’s voice, for taking you away from him on his birthday.

“It was a little lengthy, but I got through it. I also had time to stop and get you a surprise.” Rafe is confused until you pull out the large, atrocious, hat. It had Birthday Boy written on it in large red letters and a huge bow at the top.

Rafe groaned at the sight of it. “Babe, I’m not wearing that.” He didn’t really know where the nickname came from but it fit and he’d say it over and over again to see your little embarrassed grin.

“Shut up, yes you are.” You say, grin unable to make its way off your face as he lets you pull the strap under his chin, smiling at you despite his protest.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” Sarah says, fake gagging at the display. “Please stop.”

“Ah Sarah, leave your brother alone, it’s his birthday, you can save the teasing for tomorrow.” Ward tells her, only for her to roll his eyes.

Throughout his entire birthday dinner Rafe keeps thinking to himself that he just wants it to be over. So he can be near you, or at least closer, which is easier to find excuses for when it was just the two of you. He didn’t know that you were thinking the same thing, just for a different reason. You were excited to give him his birthday present.

When you finally made it up to his room under the guise that you were going to watch a movie. You were practically jumping with excitement.

“What is it?” Rafe asks you, when you hand him the wrapped present.

“The whole point of the wrapping paper is that you unwrap the gift to find out.” You tell him in an obvious tone, to which he rolled his eyes.

“Hey it’s my birthday, you can’t be mean to me.” He guilts you, his little smirk giving him away.

“Fine, you’re right, I’m sorry.” You concede. “Now open it please, before I do it for you.” He laughed at your anticipation and began to open his gift.

His surprised laugh when he realizes what it is throws you into a fit of giggles. “Isn’t it cute?” You ask as he holds up his half of the matching onesies. The pink letters reading ‘cuddle buddies’, his, having his name on the back and a picture of your face and yours designed with the same idea as well.

“Yeah baby, I like it.” You’re blushing at his second use of a nickname. “Might just wear it to my party tonight.” He jokes, looking back at you. “You can wear yours too.”

“God, no!” You laugh, happy that the gift made him smile.

“Why not?” He asks, little grin smirk on his face widening, as he pulls you closer to him, in between his legs. The position had your brain short circuiting, as you wrapped your arms around the tops of his broad shoulders.. You were used to him being touchy, but this was on the handsier side and you definitely didn’t mind it.

“Cause’ all your kook hook ups will be upset.” You tell him. It was an immature tactic to get information, and you knew it as soon as you said it, but still you were curious. Rafe smirks knowingly, pushing his face into your arm.

“What hookups baby?” He asks you, pulling you down so that you’re straddling him. That’s when all the wires in your brain disconnect and you’re nothing but putty in his hands.

“You tell me.” You say, your face now level with his, and your lips only inches apart.

“There aren’t any.” Rafe inhales deeply, placing his face in your neck. “I just want you.” He adds. You feel a tingle go down your spine as his nose brushes down the side of his neck, a whimper leaving you at his words.

“You smell so fucking good.” It’s almost a growl and it has you trying to clench your thighs together, only for your inner thighs to be met by his torso.

“Rafe.” You whisper, knowing that his family was downstairs and his friends would be here at any moment.

“You always smell good.” He continues. “I think you do it on purpose, just to drive me crazy.” His hands make their way to your smooth thighs. “I smell you all over my bed too. “ He groans to himself, the sound sending a flash of heat through your body.

“Raaafe.” You mewl, sending his hips bucking up into yours, making you gasp at the feeling.

“Fuck. Don’t say my name like that okay?” It takes a few seconds for you to realize that he’s restraining himself, pushing you further back on his thighs so he doesn’t do it again. You don’t like it and can’t help but feel like you’re missing out on an unrestrained Rafe.

When you push yourself closer to him, almost sitting right on him. Rafe moans, and the noise tears down any lasting thoughts of doubt and worry.

“Rafe please kiss me.” You beg. It almost makes Rafe mad at himself for making you wait this long, even though the sentence is music to his ears, knowing you were almost as desperate for him as he was for you.

He doesn’t say anything as captures your lips. The first taste of you makes him absolutely feral.His hands are everywhere and he’s kissing you like he just got out of prison and you’re the first woman he’s touched in years. He’s chasing your lips when you come up for air even though he’s panting.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me.” Rafe tells you, he’s breathless and it’s almost a whine. He’s leaving sloppy open mouth kisses down your throat and that action has you reeling, you start rocking your hips into his, hoping for some relief from the friction but it isn’t enough and he feels it too.

“Rafe,” You gasp , when his hips rock to meet yours roughly.

Three loud knocks at the door make both of you freeze up. “Rafe open up!” It’s Kelce, you’re both relieved. “The party of the century is going down three blocks from here and it’s your party man!” You hear Topper add. You can’t help your grin at Topper, because to him every party is the party of the century. Rafe groans dramatically, pouting like a child.

“It’s your party man.” You tease him, whispering.

“What about our party?” He asks, making you avert your eyes from his intense stare, at your swollen lips.

“We can continue it later.” You tell him, and he’s pleased to hear it, but not happy when you raise yourself off his lap to go open the door.

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #fantasylandloserfic #outer banks

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thirstydiglett · 8 months

Text

I promise I’m working on requests but this one has been in the works for a looooong time and I finally finished it! Have some good porn-without-a-plot sanjixreader!

———————NC-17 Minors DNI———————

The Bath Game

Summary: In which the writer attempts to make Sanji’s voyeur kink less problematic, and the reader has some hot bathtub sex.

Pairings: Sanjixf!reader

Warnings: consensual!voyeur/exhibitionist kink, praise kink, oral (mouth to vag), fingering, bathtub sex

———————————————————————

“I think I’m gonna go take a bath.”

It’s getting late on the Sunny, after one hell of a day. You’d joined this crew six months ago after having hopped from ship to ship for years before that, on the run from the Marines, trying to find a way to save your archipelago—the home you were exiled from. And this crew had defended you like a sister from the day you’d all met. They’re pretty crazy… but already, you can tell the Straw Hats will be your forever home.

At your words, casual but with a tinge of playfulness, the blond man doing the dishes cocks his head, glancing over at you. Just as you’d hoped he would. The last six months had seen the two of you connect in a way you’d never connected with anyone before. Sure, he was a perfect gentleman, ready to shower you with compliments at a moment’s notice, but you’d met plenty of men like that before. No, you knew from the beginning that Sanji was different. He’d fought alongside you, listened and understood more than anyone else you’d ever met when you told him about your archipelago and your fucked up family and your goals. As the ship’s cook, Sanji immediately respected your plant-based devil fruit powers and love for obscure botany, and the two of you had spent hours together talking about vegetables and herbs and edible flowers. When he told you about his family he cried, and you brushed his tears away, and when you finally had the nerve to kiss him he pulled you tight against him, and you had the sense that he was never going to let you go.

Since then, you and Sanji had been a de facto couple on the ship. Zoro was grumpy that the cook had gotten a girlfriend before he’d managed a boyfriend, and Nami and Robin thanked you privately for giving him somewhere to focus his attentions, but other than that not much changed—well, not much in the dynamic of the crew, that is.

You, you’ve been having the wildest sex of your life.

He does things to you you can’t even describe, that man. His hot mouth and long fingers and soft, low voice send you into near-conniptions even thinking about them. You two take advantage of every moment you possibly can together—getting up early to fuck in the kitchen before he makes breakfast, stealing up to the crow’s nest in an outfit he’s picked out for you to wear while he worships every inch of you, and of course…

There’s the bath game. Definitely your favorite.

There’s only a few people still awake when you make your proclamation. Usopp is messing with some mechanical device of his at the kitchen table, and Luffy is finishing off the last of dinner. Neither of them look up as you slowly walk out of the room, but they’re not the ones whose attention you’re after.

Your blond chef is blushing furiously, and you can feel his eyes follow you as you walk past him. Just for fun, you let your fingers trail lightly over the small of his back, teasing him, letting him know exactly what you’re expecting.

You know he’ll be more than happy to deliver.

Filling up the tub, you undress slowly, shivering as the cool air makes goosebumps over your skin. Thinking of what is to come, you feel the first slick of moisture form between your legs. Sanji is kinkier than you expected him to be when you first kissed him, but there is a thrill to these games the two of you play that you’ve never experienced with any other partner. It makes the hunger you have for him all the more intense, the way you never quite know what is coming from him. Sanji has also been more than thrilled to indulge you in your own kinks—hell, he’s helped you discover a lot of them.

As you get into the tub, now full of water and soap bubbles, you hear a sound from outside the door. A low, throaty hum, so faint that you can barely make it out. You find yourself blushing, even though you know exactly who is outside. He’s watching you.

Slowly, you lower yourself into the tub, one eye on the door as you do so. You can see a hint of a shadow in the gap between the door and the frame, and you thrill at the sight of it.

You take your washcloth and start scrubbing your skin lightly, extending your long legs out of the water and gently massaging every inch of yourself. So slowly. You even start to hum a tune you’d heard Brook singing the other day, to increase the illusion of innocence. As though you don’t know he’s watching you.

A hungry sigh through the door and you can’t help but think about what Sanji must be doing. Palming his hard cock through his suit pants, watching you intently, suppressing moans of arousal. Wanting to touch you so badly… the thought makes you shiver, and you can’t resist giving him his favorite part any longer. You start to soap up your breasts, rubbing them slowly, pinching your nipples (Although at this point, you’re so aroused that it’s more for you than for him). When you hear the sound of a zipper, you can’t help but let out a tiny whine. God, he’s stroking his cock while he watches you play with yourself. Come in, you mentally will him. God, please come in.

As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door, and you blush with excitement, feeling your core flood with moisture. The best part of the game is about to begin.

“Hey y/n-chan, I’ve brought you a glass of wine if you’d like it…?”

Mustering your best innocent voice, you manage—“Oh, thank you Sanji-kun! Is there anyone else out there right now, or just you?”

A pause. Then—“Just me, y/n-chwan!”

That’s all you need to hear. You are up and to the door in a split second, still dripping with soap bubbles and water. You turn the knob and open the door wide, letting Sanji see your naked body from top to bottom, grinning at the way he turns bright red, taking him in as much as he does you.

A sheen of sweat coats your lover’s forehead. He is still in his suit, and holding a tray with two glasses of your favorite wine, but his pants are halfway unzipped and his hard, girthy cock is straining at the fabric of his boxers, drops of precum staining the light blue cotton.

You smile at him while he stares at you. He never knows what to say at this part, so you usually fill in the gaps. “Sanji!! Were you watching me in the bath?? You’re such a perv! Hurry, get in here before someone sees what a freak you are!” With that, you grab him by the tie and tug him into the bathroom, wine and all.

That’s all it takes for him to push you up against the closest wall (setting the wine on the bathroom counter first), gripping your legs and backside to press his barely clothed cock against your core. You yelp with excitement, and he immediately pulls back.

“Fuck, y/n, did I hurt you?” Sanji’s eyes search yours frantically, looking for any sign you might not be 100% ok with this. For a moment, your heart flutters. He really is one of the kindest men you’ve ever known, willing to drop everything to ensure your safety and comfort.

You gently brush his hair out of his eye, kissing the corner of his lips. “Not in a million years.” He smiles at this for a moment, then presses you back up against the wall again, burying his face in your neck, one hand finding your breast. Kissing you, running his tongue along your skin, warming you with his hot breath, he thrusts hungrily against you again.

“You’re so beautiful, my sweet girl. You know that, don’t you? Stunning and smart and kind. Any man would be lucky to get to devour you.”

You let out a groan as he begins to slide his hands over your body. The way he talks to you makes you weak in the knees. He never shies away from a chance to tell you just how loved and worshipped you are. It is one of your favorite things about him, and it usually leaves you near-wordless.

“Suit…” you manage to gasp in between kisses.

“Oh, should I take this off?” He grins against your mouth. “I thought you said I was a perv…” as he speaks, he slides his hand between your wet, naked legs, pushing the heel of his hand against your clit. You can’t help but grind against it, letting out a moan.

“You are a perv…” you manage to gasp even as you cling to him. “Now fuck me, perv.”

Sanji laughs out loud at this, but covers your lips in light, delicate kisses. “Ok, ok.” He backs away for a moment, and begins slowly removing his suit, folding each article of clothing and placing it on the nearby chair. He moves at a torturous pace, and for the first time since the two of you have begun this little game of yours you know how he feels watching you in the bath. As he takes off his shirt, you shiver at the sight of his lean muscles, the ripple of his back. And when he finally fully removes his pants, you can’t help but lick your lips at the exquisite curvature of his ass.

An impatient whine escapes your lips, and he chuckles.

“It’s fun to watch, isn’t it?”

“Please just get over here and fuck me,” you beg, your hand sliding between your legs, desperate to relieve the heat that is pooling in you.

Finally, naked except for his boxers, he walks leisurely to the wall you are still leaned against, and touches his forehead to yours.

“You’re perfect, y/n. Let me show you what you do to me.” With that, he envelops you in a deep, intense kiss, his tongue sliding between your lips as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“Sit on the edge of the tub for me?” He requests, breaking his lips from yours. Eagerly, you obey him, taking care not to slip on the wet porcelain surface. When Sanji is satisfied that you’re comfortable, he gently spreads your legs and settles himself on his knees between them.

“That’s my good girl. God, I’ve wanted to taste you all day.”

He starts by kissing your still-soapy thighs, moving his lips and fingers gradually up and inward toward your throbbing core, stopping just before he reaches you to tease slow, languid circles with his tongue on your inner thigh. You moan, tangling your hand in his hair, and try to pull him closer. Sanji smiles against your skin, but doesn’t move. It’s part of the game—you tease him, and he teases you in turn. It’s delightful, but so hard to bear.

“Sanjiiiiii…. Please…” you whine, everything in you aching for the feel of his mouth, his long fingers, where you need them.

Finally, blessedly, he has mercy on you. In a single movement he buries his face against your core, sliding his tongue into you briefly to tease you before he trails his mouth upwards, finally reaching your clit. You have to cover your mouth to prevent obscene sounds from slipping out as he worships you. He himself is making throaty hums and groans that vibrate against your center, filling you with a hot desperate want. Wishing you could call his name at the top of your lungs, you’re forced to resort to whispering it, over and over, like a prayer. “Sanji, Sanji, Sanji, Sanji….”

Upon hearing his name, your lover smiles slightly against you and slowly pushes one of those long, perfect fingers of his inside you. You feel yourself clenching involuntarily around him, eager for any kind of friction, anything that will bring you to your climax. Sanji is kind to you, though, and quickly pushes a second finger in, curling them upwards against that spot that drives you crazy. You can feel yourself melting, your heart pounding, blood rushing in your ears as you get closer and closer.

“Sanji, I’m almost there…” you manage to gasp, and he smiles up at you for a moment, those sweet blue-grey eyes of his full of a kind of love you never knew someone could feel for you. A single curve of his fingers upward and then you are climaxing, sweet blessed release pouring over you even as you buck your hips and keen helplessly, riding the wave of your orgasm as long and as hard as you possibly can.

And then it happens.

You’d been holding onto the side of the tub for support, barely managing to keep yourself upright. But as your orgasm hits you you lean back involuntarily, and your hand lands on a puddle of soap bubbles.

The next thing you hear is a terrific crash and a shriek that might have been your own as you lose your grip and fall backward into the large tub. Your head submerges for a moment, and a burst of panic overtakes you—as a devil fruit eater, there was always a risk you wouldn’t be able to get yourself back out again. You freeze for a second, unable to think clearly after the high of your orgasm and the sudden adrenaline rush.

And then another, even larger splash next to you shakes you out of your shock, and strong hands are under your arms and lifting you up out of the water. You gasp for breath as you break the surface, your awareness slowly coming back to you. You are leaned against Sanji’s chest as he sits behind you in the tub, and you realize he must have dived in after you.

“Y/n, are you ok? I’m can’t tell you how sorry I am…” He continues rambling, but aside from the initial shock you can’t bring yourself to be worried about it. After the orgasm he just gave you, the marines could storm the bathroom right now and you’d barely notice. Turning yourself slightly, you readjust so that you can see his face.

Sanji’s look of genuine terror at nearly causing you to drown is so sweet, so earnest, and so genuinely funny that you can’t help but laugh. After a moment, he begins laughing too, and within a few seconds the two of you are absolutely howling. It doesn’t help when you look down and notice he’s still got his boxers on, although now they’re completely soaked.

Finally, you both have to pause to catch your breath, and you lay warm and soapy against his slim, muscular chest, the closest thing you can think of to home.

“I love you, my dove,” Sanji murmurs into your ear after several moments of comfortable silence. His hands are sliding upward from your waist now, massaging your body slowly. It is his attempt at reassuring you, but you have to admit the feeling of his long, nimble hands tracing up your body is making you feel much more than simply safe.

And apparently, his mind is moving in the same direction—he leans into your ear and whispers devilishly, “That must’ve been a damn good orgasm I gave you for you to fall right off the edge of the tub like that. Wasn’t it?”

One of his hands is sliding lower again, groping your ass, and you can feel your clit starting to tingle again. You moan appreciatively and nod, spreading your legs without even thinking about it. A lightning bolt of want pulses through you when you feel his cock twitch against your ass.

“Fuck, Sanji…” You find your hand sliding up from its resting place on his thigh, and glance back at him. His eyes are closed and he is biting his lip, his face turning just a bit red as your hand approaches his still-clothed cock.

“Y/n-chan… you don’t have to do that, especially after that scare…”

Always such a gentleman, you think to yourself. But you don’t want a gentleman tonight.

“Do you want me to stop?” You whisper lightly into your lover’s ear, enough to send a chill down his spine. Biting his lip even harder, Sanji shakes his head.

“I want you, y/n. I always want you.”

Unable to repress a smile, you bury your delight in the crook of Sanji’s neck, kissing and biting the sensitive spot to illustrate your point (which has him positively squirming with pleasure). “I always want you too.”

With that, you turn around in his arms and straddle him, pushing your hips forward into his. Sanji groans as your bare sex slides along his dick, bucking against you involuntarily.

“Should we take these off?” You ask, brushing your fingers against the hem of his boxers. Sanji nods fervently, his face turning red as you lean forward and slide his underwear off underneath you.

Sanji immediately pulls your hips forward again, grinding his bare cock against your folds. The sudden friction makes you gasp, fireworks of desire going off inside you.

Without another thought, you take your boyfriend’s cock into your hand, sliding up and down the long, thick length of it. You brush your thumb over the head, biting back a moan when you feel it twitch.

Sanji, meanwhile, can barely contain himself. His hips roll against yours as he squeezes your ass, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

“Please, y/n-chan… Please just do it… Need to be inside you…”

You pause for a moment, pretending to think it over. “Hm… Well, you did spy on me while I was in the bath. And then you made me cum so hard I fell into the tub. Why should I do anything for such a little perv?”

“Fuuuuuck…” Sanji moans, getting desperate. But the twitch of his cock in your hand tells you he loves the teasing, the playful degradation. “Couldn’t help myself… please forgive me…”

“Hm.” You run your fingers through his hair as you mull it over, pulling it lightly. “Only because you made me cum like that.”

He groans with relief as you align him with your hole. Slowly, Sanji slides into your warm, tight entrance, both of you exhaling as he pushes deeper. He moves carefully, giving you time to adjust to his size, until you are finally completely full with him.

“Ready, my love?” He whispers after a moment, looking up at you with the purest expression of love you had ever seen.

You nod fervently, and slowly Sanji begins to rock his hips upward into yours. He immediately pushes against your g-spot, and you cry out the world spins for a moment.

Sanji smiles at you adoringly, continuing to thrust, bath water beginning to splash onto the floor. “God, you’re so beautiful when you’re like this, my dove. Enjoying my cock, your face flushed like that, your pretty moans. You’re always such a good girl for me. Such a good girl when you’re undressing for me, such a good girl when you’re teasing me in the kitchen when you think no one’s around, such a good girl…”

You drown out Sanji’s last words in a wail as he paired his praises with sharper, deeper thrusts, sending you reeling to the tip of another orgasm. You claw at his back, desperate for anything that will send you over the edge.

Suddenly your lover grabs you by the chin, tilting your head down to look at him. Smiling despite the glazed look in his eyes, he whispers, “y/n, I’m so in love with you.”

Your back arches and you hit your second peak of the evening, covering your mouth to stifle your own scream as your body bolts and bucks. Sanji continues to hold your chin, forcing you to stare at him.

“Look at me, look at me… that’s a good girl. Let me see your pretty face while you cum on my cock…” he pants indiscriminately, his tongue slightly hanging out of his mouth. He is close to reaching his peak as well, you can tell.

“Can I go hard, my love?” He groans as you collapse against him, gasping for air. “I’m so close, princess, so close…”

You nod, holding on for dear life as he yanks you to him and buries himself to the hilt. Your body is exhausted and overstimulated, but the feeling of his big dick pounding roughly into you has you spilling over into yet another orgasm, just moments after the last one ended. As Sanji feels you clench around him, he hits his release hard and fast. The two of you cum together, moaning into each other, bathwater sloshing loudly around you, the entire world meaningless and purposeless except for this moment.

After what could have been seconds or hours, you both finally collapse and sink into the bubbles and warm water (or at least what is left of it), both thoroughly satisfied. Sanji leans back, and you rest your head on his well-muscled chest.

“Holy shit.” Sanji breathes after several moments of silence.

“Holy shit,” you agree, chuckling slightly.

“Is there anything you need, my love? Anything at all I can make you while you come down?” Sanji begins to stand up, but you cling to him, holding him down.

“In about fifteen minutes you can go get a fuckton of towels. For now though, I need you to stay with me.”

“Anything for you, ma chérie,” Sanji says with a grin, sinking back into the water. “Why do we need so many towels though?”

You wordlessly gestured to the bathroom floor. Puddles of soapy water over an inch deep covered at least a third of the tiles.

“Oh. Maybe we shouldn’t actually fuck in the bath next time, huh?”

You laughed. “Maybe not.” Gazing at your lover, dripping wet, both of you covered in soap bubbles from head to toe, you couldn’t help but add—“But we probably will anyway.”

A/N: Thanks for reading as always ^_^ I wrote this after hitting that scene in Thriller Bark as a way to not be creeped out by my favorite character again. I think it worked ok. One of these days I’m gonna write dirty nasty sub Sanji but he always ends up as a soft dom when I try to write him. Ah well, not that I mind very much.

Also if I fucked up and you see the name Eve instead of y/n no you fuckin didn’t that’s definitely not my OC

Also ALSO, requests are very much open! I’ll write NSFW for pretty much anyone but Luffy, and I’ll write fluff for literally anyone. Give me a shout!

#Diglett writes #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #one piece #opla #sanji fanfic

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carniferous · 2 months

Note

okay hello i’ve come to offer a vague concept ❤️🤲 the first thing that came into my mind is like being in a car. and something being wrong w the car. which sounds so stupid but is hopefully vague enough?? also idk if i’m meant to specify a ship but (and you probs already know what i’m gonna say) ur bartylus genuinely changed my life and it’s always on my mind and im obsessed w it forever and ever and would die if you ever wrote them again (but also like. no pressure. i don’t wanna try and tie you down to one specific pathway) ANYWAY i hope this is vague enough but also not too vague that you’re just staring at me blankly rn… icl babe u really didn’t set any parameters so i’m kinda trying to spear fish in the dark here but im gonna stop talking now…. eagerly (but patiently!!) awaiting ur response <33

LMAO NOOO thank you so much this is exactly the level of vagueness i wanted!!! i simply need to let things cook in my beautiful mind palace before i can write + vague concepts work best for that

anyway i tried to do it justice for u. it's more barty character study than bartylus sorry but. also it's compeltely unedited!! do with that what you will xoxo

“I knew it,” Regulus murmured, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. He was slumped down in his seat, the lines of his face stark in the pale moonlight. The motorway stretched out empty and endless before them.

Barty clenched his jaw and turned the key in the ignition once more. The engine sputtered loudly, just enough to give him some small shred of hope, before it promptly died for the fifth time.

“Dammit,” he hissed, thumping his hand against the steering wheel. He turned to Regulus, “What?”

Regulus lowered his hand and glared fiercely. “I knew I was going to die in this metal box the moment you persuaded me to get in.”

“And yet, you still let me persuade you.”

“Barty.”

“What?” Barty grinned. “You’re not going to die, Regulus. Cars are only dangerous when they’re moving.”

Regulus scoffed. He looked about five minutes away from having a conniption—which meant that Barty had about three minutes of continuing to fuck with him before he got properly angry. His hands were clenched in the fabric of his trousers, and when he turned his face towards the window, Barty could glimpse the deep shadows under his eyes as they appeared under the light.

He felt his heart soften, just a tad.

“I have a plan,” Barty said.

Regulus rolled his eyes so far back that they disappeared into his skull: “Oh, joy. Another plan.”

“They’ve gotten us this far, haven’t they?”

“Yes, stranded on the side of the road with you,” muttered Regulus. “Exactly where I want all my plans to lead me.”

At that, Barty felt a strange, wild sort of affection swell up within him. He wanted to lean over and bite the nape of Regulus’s neck hard enough to draw blood, wanted to crowd him against the door until all that bluster and exasperation fell away. But there would be time for that.

“Don’t you want to hear my plan?”

“No,” Regulus said sullenly. “I want—”

He stopped. Barty’s grin abruptly fell away. He reached over and cradled the back of Regulus’s head, firmly enough that he had no choice but to face him. Regulus kept his eyes downcast, an unhappy twist to his mouth, a sickly tinge to his face that the low light couldn’t hide.

“Hey,” Barty said, and he curled his hand into a fist in Regulus’s hair. “Look at me.”

Regulus’s gaze flickered up.

He was a living bruise, a walking heartache. Two weeks ago, Barty had looked at him as they packed their things for the end of term, and he’d known that Regulus wouldn’t survive another summer in that house—not as himself, anyway. He knew it the way Sirius must have, before he left, and he understood. Better than he’d like to admit. Sometimes it was easier to pack your bags than to watch someone like Regulus tread water and insist that they weren’t moments away from sinking.

In that respect, though, Barty was different. He didn’t care what Regulus wanted. He wasn’t going to leave him to drown.

Besides. Barty was fed up, himself.

When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, and Regulus listened with wide, unblinking eyes: “We’re not going home. Do you understand? There’s nothing back there. Nothing. Forget it, Regulus.”

A beat of silence. Barty’s grip loosened, he made to pull back, and then—

“What about your mother?” Regulus asked with a horrible little glint in his gaze.

“What about her?” Barty replied without missing a beat.

Regulus blinked. Barty almost laughed at him. Could have, at the idea that Regulus thought he’d trapped him with that. His mother, who’d wanted Berty out of that house perhaps even more than he himself did. Regulus could never understand that.

What he could understand, though, was the terrifying, exhilarating sensation of freedom. Of the surprising vastness of your own mind when it was vacant of everyone but yourself. Of sitting in a car stranded on the side of the road and becoming aware of your own mortality. Death was suddenly an end to something real and full of potential.

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus asked, “What’s your plan?”

“I turn seventeen in five hours,” Barty said. “Once midnight hits, the Trace will disappear. I’ll fix the car then.”

“You don’t know how to fix it.”

“At least I know it’s called a car and not a ‘metal box.’”

“You want us to spend five hours in this thing?” Regulus said, as though catching up with his own disbelief.

“Technically, seven hours,” said Barty. “We still have to make it to Bath. And then, once we pick up the twins…”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Barty shrugged—a loose, slouching thing. He noticed Regulus’s eyes track the motion with nothing short of predatory glee. “Orgy in the metal box?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” Barry cajoled, grinning from ear to ear. “Why else would you run away with me?”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Regulus gazed, baleful and petulant, out at the road in front of them and Barty gazed at him. Already, he was more animated, more tetchy, more acerbic than he’d been just days ago. The cobwebs slowly clearing from his eyes.

Sometimes, Barty recognized Regulus like the slant of himself in a shard of glass. But other times, Regulus was just very beautiful. Barty wondered if there an element of vanity in wanting him, to the prideful joy he got out of fucking him out of his own head. The idea that he could press Regulus down hard enough to mold him back into himself.

On very rare occasions, he wondered if he was like his father. If the only love he knew was what he learned from the voice in his head as it puppeted his limbs about. If that presence was more himself than he was. A normal person would look at it with revulsion, would see complete and total control as a firsthand abomination.

But it was because Barty knew the abomination firsthand that he knew also the complete, total, clean satisfaction of such control.

“You were hardly the first to ask,” Regulus said mildly.

Even in the darkness, Barty could see the flush travel down his neck. He grinned and, without another word, reached over and unhooked Regulus’s seatbelt.

“I didn’t ask,” he replied, just as mild.

#my writing #bartylus #ask #thank youuu i had so much fun writing this! bartylus is such a fun challenge for me #regulus black #barty crouch jr

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antimonyandthyme · 2 months

Text

1k; alex/logan; after the australian gp

His phone was clinking incessantly. Very determinedly. Logan dredged up determination in equal counterforce to ignore it.

“Whoever it is,” Alex said, “is being clingier than cling wrap.”

“Not your best,” Logan said.

“Whatever. Why don’t you answer it?”

“It’s probably just Oscar.”

That got him an Oh? Alex shifted, groaning, stretching his arms out in a way that was not meant to be sexy at all, but somehow still painfully was. Logan stared down at the wrinkled sheets instead. He was shaky all over, but kept himself still. “What does he want?”

“To check on me, probably.”

“Good friend,” Alex said. His tone landed somewhere in the middle of a chromatic scale, careful, but not too wary, interested, but not too concerned.

I don’t know about you and George, but me and Oscar, we get along just—

It was too early to be this petty. “Yeah,” he said, and left it at that.

Except Alex had a bone to chew. His not-quite smile was sharp, his eyes a little too assessing. Logan supposed the morning-after spiral presented itself differently in everybody.

“What will you tell him?”

“That I spent the night fucking my teammate,” Logan said.

Alex pulled back, like that scalded. Okay, ouch.

Logan sighed. Oscar always said there was no point wielding a knife if he was going to feel bad about it, less than a second after. It was a habit he couldn’t rid himself of.

“Of course I’m not saying that. Just—that I’m sleeping in. Or something else believable. I’m not an idiot.”

“Didn’t say you were.” Alex ran his fingers through his hair, which barely served to dissuade any unruliness. He looked so rumpled it was almost endearing. Logan had the maddening urge to smooth him down, act as sandpaper to Alex’s edges. “Sorry. I’m not being. I’m not—”

“You’re being an ass,” Logan said flatly. “Can you have your freakout later? After we’ve showered, at least?”

Of all things. Alex’s smile softened, turned a little more real. “So you admit it.”

“Admit what.”

“You are mad at me.”

I’m not mad, Logan had said last night, when Alex showed up with a bottle of conciliatory wine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck, so unusually uncertain of himself that Logan felt the inane need to comfort him. Alex, I promise I’m not. Here, to prove how not mad I am, let’s finish this bottle together. See?

“I’m—” He shut his mouth. There were very few pretenses here. Eyes red-rimmed and bodies tender in the most intimate of places, sheets still faintly damp. “I’m being childish.”

“You’re not being childish,” Alex said shortly. “Something got taken away from you, and for what?”

Logan shrugged. It wasn’t Alex’s fault, that much was certain. But the taste on his tongue soured past morning staleness when he thought of James. “It was for the team.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Get out of here with that bullshit.”

“I should have crashed my car, like Max suggested.”

“That’s more like it.” Even the flyaway strands in Alex’s hair appeared delighted now. “Let it all out.”

The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched up. “What are you trying to encourage? Our own multi two-one?”

Alex scoffed. “When Williams makes better cars, maybe.”

It sounded impossible, even as people who had the patience to recognize dreams took what felt like eons to manifest. And anyway, Alex wasn’t the person he’d endure a silver war with. Logan’s phone was still making glass-shattering noises.

“You should reply.” Alex relaxed back into bed. They were both equally grateful for the distraction from their futures’ uncertainties. “Way it sounds, he’s about to have a conniption.”

Logan could picture it, Oscar’s not-anxious-anxious face, the line of his mouth flattening impossibly further the longer it took to get a response.

sorry, shit signal last night

Mate, the response was instant and borderline angry. Where are you?

in bed

Not technically a lie.

hungover

Ok, Oscar said. You good?

Was he? Alex was looking at him, expression threaded with amusement and an understanding reserved for teammates who only knew how to take things from each other. The night could’ve been worse spent. Alex’s mouth, hot against his, and his calloused hand, rough against his sensitive, greedy cock, was welcome enough to push James’ sympathetic face out of his head for a decent enough time.

i’m good. thanks. appreciate you asking osc

“You’re awfully polite for an American.”

“Fuck off,” Logan said.

There was another unopened text that surely Alex had caught a glimpse of as well. Logan tossed the phone aside. His lips found the underside of Alex’s jaw. Alex’s groan was exceedingly nice to listen to. The stutter in his hips, the surprised gasp he released, as Logan worked his way downward, was even more rewarding.

Later, showering—

“I’ll say no, the next time.”

Alex was playing with the suds in Logan’s hair, making snowmen that stuck out like lumpy marshmallows. The shower in the hotel room, like all showers in hotel rooms tend to be, had misty glass enclosure walls. Logan checked their reflections out in the mirror. They looked presentable, pressed up against each other. Friendly, like all good teammates should be.

“Good, good,” Alex said absently. He continued massaging Logan’s hair.

There was a small flicker of irritation. “I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” Alex said. He smoothed the shampoo down, palm slick and comfortable, then scratched his fingers gently against Logan’s scalp. “You’re allowed, of course. To say no.”

You’re allowed, Logan heard in the silence that followed, to see where that takes you.

Coming from Alex, it didn’t sound that patronizing. More generous, really. Encouraging. Maybe they would have their own multi two-one, after all.

The text: Logan, I’d like to discuss some things with you today, if you have time.

Impossible, aggravating. James hardly needed to ask for Logan’s time. It was already his.

Logan leaned his head back, snug against Alex’s collarbone. The spray was pleasant, going around his eyes, courtesy of the shield Alex’s back provided. It was warm.

He thought about what to say.

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #alex/logan

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ssruis · 12 days

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The funniest pjsk character to stick in a time loop would 100% be tsukasa I don’t even think he’d notice for the first few days & then when he did realize he’d have a conniption of biblical scale (inherently funny)

#mine #[insert pandemonium untrained] as always #putting him in situations is always hysterical he’s like my exhausted little lab rat I keep fucking with

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artiststarme · 9 months

Text

Despite popular belief, Eddie was not a procrastinator. Sure, he might’ve been held back twice due to not turning assignments in on time (or at all) and a few jobs may have let him go because of his tardiness but he was not a procrastinator. He just had a bad case of ADHD that fucked with his internal clock.

As long as it was something he was hyper focused on or even mildly excited about, Eddie was on time or significantly early. He always got to school hours before every Hellfire meeting to set the drama room up exactly how he imagined so the rest of the club could enjoy it. He’d spend weeks focusing on a campaign so fun and disturbingly gruesome that it would leave the rest of the crew staring at him in befuddlement of his evil-minded tales.

When he started dating Steve, he would arrive to all of their dates and plans sometimes hours in advance just itching to start what he knew would be the highlights of his week.

And it was after he started dating Steve that he realized what was truly a procrastinator. Steve would leave for work ten minutes after his shift started to begin his fifteen minute drive, nearly gave Eddie a conniption fit every time. He’d arrive at their dates thirty minutes after it was set to start so Eddie had to get crafty with the math and plans to fool him into arriving on time. And when Steve finally started taking college classes, Eddie had to haggle him more than Uncle Wayne had ever bothered him just so he could turn his assignments in reasonably late!

However, even despite his procrastinating habits and his frequent tardiness, Eddie fell in love with him. He fell fast and well in advance, four hours into their first day of not hating each other to be exact. Steve, like always, nonchalantly took his time and only realized what everyone else already had months later after they were already dating. But Eddie was patient and he got his reward in the form of a mean boy turned golden retriever slash knight in shining armor that he’d have for the rest of his life. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

(Although if Steve wanted to be on time for once in his life, that certainly wouldn’t hurt Eddie’s feelings.)

#the only reason Dustin approved of Eddie dating Steve was that he made him get to places less late (still not quite on time)#Mike doesn’t think it’s enough of a benefit and routinely tells Eddie to cut his losses #even though they’ve been married for years #I may have been a procrastinator this weekend and I’ve never been so stressed #Robin is even later than Steve so she’s truly no help to anyone in this circumstance #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson

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iamthecomet · 8 months

Text

Feast or Famine

Kinktober Day 4 - Temperature Play AND Table Sex.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing(s): Swiss/Aurora, Swiss/Aurora/Aeon/Dewdrop

Featuring: Vaginal sex, anal sex, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex, blow jobs, temperature play, table sex, double penetration, light choking, multiple orgasms. The boys are so good to Rora. But she's insatiable. Public-sex. Voyeurism (ish). Chaotic ghouls are chaotic.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Swiss lays Aurora out on the dining room table and feasts. They attract an audience.

She maybe should be quieter now. Swiss should encourage it. Should reach up over her body and shove his fingers in her mouth. Give her something to do besides keen. But he doesn’t. He likes to hear her. And maybe it isn’t the most respectful thing to do–right here–out in the open. On the dining room table. But Swiss was hungry, and there’s no better place to eat. He really can’t be fucked to care.

Not when Aurora’s thighs clamp down around his head again and she shakes, clenching down on her fingers. A hot rush of liquid flooding into his palm as she cums again. Laughing at the come down, panting. Delirious and giddy.

Her head thumps back against the table. Glasses rattle.

“Again,” she pants. Tugging on his hair. “More ice.”

Read it all on AO3 or under the cut.

Tagging @miasmaghoul by request ♡. And as always the prompts are from @kroas-adtam ♡

Aurora’s loud. Unashamed. Swiss likes that about her. Likes the way she doesn’t cover her face, or bite her lip. She just lets the noises fall where they may. Shrill and echoing against the cold stone of the abbey walls, or low and gravely. Doesn’t matter. None of it is for show. Aurora is all in, all the time.

She’s a ghoulette after his own heart.

“Again,” she pants. Tugging on his hair. “More ice.”

Her head thumps back against the table. Glasses rattle.

Swiss looks up over the line of her body. Her lithe fingers plucking at the barbells in her nipples. Head tipped back throat exposed. Long blonde hair a halo spread out over the tablecloth.

Satanas, if Mountain could see them now he’d have a conniption.

She wails. Bowing off the table. Fingers digging hard into his scalp. Her breath hitches. Over sensitive body shuddering in Swiss’s grasp as he sinks cool fingers into her thigh and holds her still.

Swiss pulls back. Keeps his fingers sheathed deep inside her still trembling cunt. He uses his free hand to grab his glass of ice water. He takes a sip, lets an ice cube fall onto his tongue, and then he descends again.

Pressing the edge of that cube directly over the swollen ridge of Aurora’s clit.

“Mountain was worried someone was hurt–I bet him five bucks it was exactly this.” Aeon this time. Swiss watches his fingers slide over Aurora’s hip. He can’t see the small ghoul, his frame blocked by the thigh Aurora has slung over his shoulder. But he’s close, just off to the right. He ruffles Swiss’ hair with a free hand before letting it come to rest on Aurora’s thigh, squeezing, fingers dimpling into soft flesh.

Swiss doesn’t hear anyone come into the room. But he sees the shadows move across the floor, watches Aurora raise the hand from her nipple to give a two-fingered wave to their visitors. Feigning unbothered despite Swiss’ fingers buried in her cunt, and his lips wrapped around her clit.

“Seven hells, Rora, can hear you in the fucking greenhouse.” That’s Dew. Swiss can see him now, coming to stand at the head of the table, stroking his fingers over Aurora’s sweaty brow. Smiling fondly down at her, hunger creasing his features.

“Table included?” Aurora asks. Swiss sucks harder on her clit, the words tip into a fresh keen. Dew chuckles from above her. Slipping his fingers into her mouth to muffle the sound. Swiss misses it immediately, but watching Dew fuck his fingers into her mouth more than makes up for it.

“Table included,” Aeon agrees. “I know you.”

Aurora hums. Aeon drags his fingers up over her ribs and cups one of her little tits. Thumbing over a swollen, puffy nipple.

Swiss watches. Unable to pull his eyes away from the lean line of Aurora’s body. Skin pulled taut over her stomach as she arches into everyone’s touch. The long line of her throat exposed as she tips her head back to look at Dew looming above her.

Swiss laps at the underside of her clit. Sucks her lips into his mouth, the ice is long gone. Melted from the heat of his mouth–of her cunt. She’s soaked, slick drooling onto the tablecloth. The room fills with wet sounds as Swiss fingers her, and she sucks hard on Dew’s fingers.

Aeon tweaks one of her nipples cruelly and she bucks. Arches toward him, body twisting. She chokes on Dew’s fingers, and Swiss thinks he could die here and be happy. Suffocated between her thighs while he watches Dew and Aeon be mean to Aurora just like she likes best.

Swiss thinks to tell them about the ice. More ammunition to get her going. But his mouth is full and Aurora’s iron grip on the back of his head isn’t letting up any time soon. But it doesn’t take long for Aeon to notice the glass. To dip his fingers in a pull out a shard of ice to run over Aurora’s abused nipples. To take his other hand, and drag a cube down over the center of her stomach, over her belly button. Swiss dips a little lower, pulls his fingers from the hot clutch of her cunt and replaces them with his tongue. Delving deep as Aeon circles her clit with an ice cube trapped beneath deft fingers.

“Pretty,” Aeon murmurs, just as Swiss slides his slick fingers lower, to press between her cheeks. To circle the tight ring of muscle there, to dip just the tip of his index finger in. Aurora whines, muffled by Dew’s fingers in her throat, but there’s no denying the way she rocks down on Swiss’ fingers, tries to take more of them.

“Greedy,” Dew admonishes.

Aurora’s hips roll on their own accord. Humping against Aeon’s fingers, grinding down on Swiss’ tongue. On his fingers, still working slowly inside of her. Swiss slips them into the third knuckle, scissors them open, and grins against her when she hisses at the stretch.

“Swiss being good to you, princess?” Dew asks, still fucking his fingers in and out of her mouth. No doubt petting them against her tongue, pressing them back until she coughs around them. With his other hand he’s palming himself. Squeezing at his zipper. Holding her gaze as he does.

Aurora makes that same noise again, agreement, a plea.

Aurora makes a muffled noise of affirmation and nods for him.

“He getting you ready for us?” Aeon asks. He bends to kiss her knee, and Swiss sees his face for the first time since he got here. His pupils blown wide, nearly drowning the color in his mismatched eyes. Swiss looks up at him, feels his own chest constrict with the hunger painted all over Aeon’s face.

“She’s close,” Dew says, eyes tracking over the shake in her thighs. The constriction of her muscles. The little uncoordinated rolls of her hips as she chases her orgasm. “Aren’t you, Rora?”

He pulls his fingers from her mouth and the noise Aurora makes echoes through the room. A wail, as Aeon’s fingers dance over her clit, ice melting, dripping onto Swiss’ tongue where he fucks it into her. Aurora cums with a cry. Clamping down on Swiss’ tongue, his fingers. Digging her nails into his scalp to hold him close while Aeon works his fingers over her–gentles her through it until she sags back against the table. Boneless and fucked out. Fingers scratching lightly over Swiss’ scalp.

Aeon bats her hand away, replaces it with his own and pulls Swiss up until he’s high enough that they can kiss. Aeon licks into his mouth, filthy and desperate. Licking the taste of Aurora from Swiss’ mouth as Swiss presses his fingers deeper into her.

She shakes her head. “Switch with me.”

Aurora shoves them apart when she comes back to herself, one hand on each of their chests. She sits up, cheeks flushed, temples sweaty. Swiss looks up at her, watches as Dew drags the hair plastered to her cheek away, tucks it behind her ear.

“You done, pretty girl?” Swiss asks, running a soothing hand over her thigh, gentle, as he eases his fingers out of her.

It takes Swiss a second to figure out what she means–he’ll blame it on the ache in his groin. No blood left anywhere near his head. But he gets it eventually, and they all shuffle. Swiss coming to lay on his back on the table. Aurora perched on his lap. Rolling her hips over his clothed cock as Swiss fumbles with the zipper and Dew laughs at him from somewhere to the left.

Aeon’s up on the table with them as soon as Swiss manages to free himself. Aching, impossibly hard. Aurora grins at him when she rolls the ridge of her clit over the head of his cock and his eyes roll back in his head.

Swiss questions the integrity of the table as Aeon molds himself against Aurora’s back. Shoving his pants down to his thighs to rut against the cleft of her ass.

Swiss taps his fingers on Aurora’s thighs to get her attention. She looks down at him, leans forward until they’re chest to chest. Lips and foreheads almost touching. Her eyes wild and bright.

“You sure you’re good, Rora?” Swiss whispers into their shared space. Just the two of them despite Aeon’s fingers digging into her hips and the rasp of Dew’s zipper.

She nods, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I’m so good. Better than good. You going to be able to last for me?”

Swiss shakes his head. Honest. She’s so wet and warm. He isn’t even inside yet and he already knows it’ll probably be over in a matter of moments. He can’t bring himself to lie to her–but he isn’t above begging.

“You better make it good–you better last.”

“Let me in anyway. Please. ”

Aurora kisses him again, slow and syrupy.

That’s all it takes. Aurora shifts, shoves back against Aeon who lets her up. And then she’s shifting. Grabbing Swiss’ cock and dropping down onto it in one smooth motion that has Swiss digging his fingers into her thighs and groaning. Fangs digging hard into his lip as she starts to ride. To grind. Dragging her swollen clit over his pubic bone with each pass.

“He’ll do better than Dew, at least,” Aeon supplies, bending down to drag his teeth over Aurora’s ear, sharing breath with her and Swiss, eyes darting up to look at Dew somewhere off to the side of the room. No doubt cock in hand. “Looks like he’s about to cum just from watching.” \

“Fuck you,” Dew spits, breathless already, very little venom in it. “Can’t get off anyway, you’re not doing anything.”

“That better, droplet ?” Aurora sneers, voice level. How she does it, Swiss doesn’t know. He feels like he’s about dissolve.

Swiss’ eyes flutter closed. He can’t take it. The heat, the clench. Pleasure burns hot at the base of his spine, spreads. His toes curl. He floats with it. Digs his fingers into Aurora’s thighs and begs Satan for the strength to hold out long enough for her.

“Shove up,” Dew orders. He’s at the head of the table, demanding, as always. And Swiss could tell him to fuck off but he wants the same thing Dew does. A distraction. He pushes up higher on the table, moving all three of them with one easy shove. Swiss tips his head back so it hangs over the edge of the table. Dew cradles it with one hand and feeds Swiss his cock with the other. Easing in until Swiss coughs. Then setting a lazy pace, fucking into Swiss’ throat. Holding him in place with one hand on the back of his skull and the other curled around his throat. Swiss closes his eyes again. Tries to focus on the way Dew’s cock bumps at his tonsils and not how Aurora clenches down around him with every roll of her hips.

Swiss can’t see Aeon or Aurora anymore. But he can feel both of them. Aeon’s hand coming down to roll Swiss’ balls in his palm. The other working between Aurora’s thighs to strum at her clit again. More ice pinned beneath his fingers. Dripping down to slide around the place where he and Aurora are joined.

When Aeon whispers, Swiss swears he can feel the words in his bones. “When he cums, it’s my turn.”

“Fuck that,” Aurora says. “Give me both. I can take it.”

Swiss whines around Dew’s cock. It doesn’t matter that Aurora can take it–he can’t. He’ll blow as soon as Aeon pushes in–he knows it. But he can’t say those words with Dew’s dick down his throat. Spilling a steady stream of salty-pre onto his tongue.

The second Dew loosens his fingers it’s over. Orgasm roaring up to greet him. He digs his nails into Auroa’s thighs, sure to leave bruises. Dew’s right behind him. Pulling out to cum on Swiss’ chest and throat.

He can’t do anything as Aeon spreads Aurora’s ass cheeks and pushes the blunt head of his cock past that tight ring of muscle except keen. Eyes rolling back in his head at the pressure, the sudden constriction of her cunt. The way he feels the head of Aeon’s cock bump against his through Aurora’s walls. She keens.

Tears prick at Swiss’ eyes. He opens them, looking up at Dew, looming above him, cheeks pink as he fucks Swiss’ throat.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dew chides, fingers tightening on Swiss’ throat until his vision swims. That doesn’t help. It makes it so much worse.

He can’t stop it, not against all three of them working against him. Between the rhythmic clench of Aurora’s cunt as she gets close, and Aeon’s harsh opposing thrusts. Swiss is a goner.

Aurora doesn’t stop moving, grinding down on Aeon’s fingers. Clenching on Swiss’ oversensitive cock until he’s whining and twitching. Dew’s fingers drag through the mess on his chest, circle a nipple. Swiss can’t even come down from his orgasm. His world is pleasure pain, he wants it to be over–he never wants it to end.

Aurora cums next, wailing, leaning back against Aeon as he works her through it. Then falling forward, face pressed to Swiss’ chest. Tongue darting out to clean Dew’s spend off of his pecs as Aeon roars to completion behind her.

They all breathe for a moment, tangled in each other. Hands everywhere. Swiss pinned beneath Aurora and Aeon as they both come back.

Dew sinks into one of the chairs, scrubbing his hand over his face.

“Switch it up and go again?” Aurora asks, breath hot over Swiss’ chest.

Aurora looks over her shoulder, grinning wide at him. “The more the merrier.”

Swiss strokes his hand over her hair, as Aeon groans and Dew chuckles. “Anything you want, princess.”

“Maybe we should change locales?” Aeon asks, peeling himself away from Aurora’s back. “Or are you hoping someone will walk in again?”

#comet writes #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ghostober 2023 #ghostober #Aurora Ghoulette #Swiss army ghoul #SwissRora #Swiss/Aurora/Dewdrop/Aeon #Dewdrop Ghoul #Aeon Ghoul #the band ghost fan fic #the band ghost fan fiction #ghost fic #the band ghost fic #ghost fan fiction #ghost fan fic

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orqheuss · 1 year

Text

I like my body when it is with your body

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

Sebastian believes that he doesn't deserve to be happy after everything he's done. His partners don't agree, and are hellbent on proving him wrong the best, and most effective, way they know how.

***

Title from the E. E. Cummings poem, "I like my body when it is with your"

word count: 8k

AN: I'm reposting all of my fics from ao3 on to here for easier access! We're starting with the smut.

Sebastian was tired. Today had been another long day trapped away in his office, filing report after report of his findings in the latest tomb he had explored. The life of a curse breaker never stopped. All he wanted to do was go home and curl up next to his partners. They’d each take turns stroking his hair and smoothing the stress from his shoulders like they always did when he had an exhausting day and he’d relax into their sides, falling asleep to the soft sound of their heartbeats. He was fortunate enough to work close to home, only having to venture out of the comforts of London every so often for a day or two, but each trip away made him desperately crave a life of simplicity. Even being away from his two loves was torturous— he always wanted to be near them, always wanted to know that they were safe and with him. There were some days where he didn’t believe that he deserved their love, their kindness, their understanding of his busy schedule. Ever since his sister was cursed by the villain, Victor Rookwood, he had been set on this path for his life. The aftermath of that dreadful day in the catacombs only solidified it for him— he would never use dark magic again, instead he would protect the wizarding world from it one cursed vault at a time.

He thought fondly of his seventh year at Hogwarts, how each of you had stressed about what you wanted to do with the rest of your lives. While he may have had it figured out, you and Ominis were a wreck to say the least. With the gift of ancient magic pulsing under your skin, you had originally thought about becoming an Auror and working alongside Sebastian with Gringotts bank, nearly causing the blond of the trio to have a conniption. He was already stressed at the prospect of the brunette being in danger nearly everyday, he couldn’t stand the idea of you being there as well. He knew that you both could hold your own, but it certainly didn’t help his heart. If anyone asked him, he would say that the incessant schemes you both got up to during your school years had left that organ of his half as strong as it used to be and caused more than enough grey hairs to go with it— he was basically an old, fretting man already. In the end you had agreed with him, deciding that you had earned a simple, safe life after everything that you had gone through over the last three years. It just so happened that Professor Hecat had decided to step down from her position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, meeting with you personally and offering the job to you as soon as you had graduated. It was an easy choice, and you were the happiest you had ever been working at the school you loved so much. Ominis was a mess at the beginning, constantly pacing around thinking about what he wanted to do— what path he should choose. He had considered following in his father’s footsteps and working in the Department of Mysteries for the Ministry, but quickly pushed that idea to the side; the idea of having anything to do with his family, even sharing a job title, was absolutely abhorrent. He considered becoming a Professor as well, he loved teaching, but that seemed to not be in the cards either with none of the faculty leaving anytime soon. Finally, you both had sat him down and talked him through his stresses, coming up with a possible list of things he could do with his high scores and brains; the final verdict was an inventor of magical tools. He was proficient in the art of tinkering and had a passion to help those in the wizarding world who began their life with as many struggles as he did.

Yes, the trio were very happy together.

Even with all the good things happening in his life, the unconditional love of his partners and his rewarding job, Sebastian couldn’t help but still feel a gnawing guilt for his actions in his fifth year of school. It had been years at that point since he had even uttered an unforgivable curse, but the taste of the words still left a bitterness in his throat that wasn’t going to go away any time soon, if at all. Some nights he still woke up in a sweat, the look in his uncle's eyes as the sage green spell hit him in the chest and stopped his heart forever burned into his memory. He would quietly sneak out of bed and sit in your living room, a cup of calming tea clasped between his hands as he watched the sun streak over the horizon. He was acutely aware that both of his partners knew about his nightmares, but every time they tried to talk to him about his trauma he would just shrug it off with a smile and a kind word in their direction. He could deal with this himself— it was his cross to bear. He hoped that they hadn’t pieced together the depth of his regret and guilt about everything he did, though. Sebastian knew that he would never hear the end of it if they ever discovered how much he loathed himself and his actions sometimes, how often he questioned why they had even decided to be with him and not someone else with a better mental view of the world, a better attitude towards the future and the past. He loved them both more than words could describe— more than there were stars in space; he would do absolutely anything for them— had done dreadful things for them already, but sometimes he worried that he wasn’t truly enough.

The boy was truly obtuse sometimes, even with his high marks and proclivity to all things magic. Of course his partners were aware of his self loathing, they knew him better than anyone else in the world— they would know him just as much in death as in life, and had been working hard to concoct a plan for how to break him from his funk. They had puttered meticulously around the day, making sure everything was absolutely perfect for their love when he got home. He always took care of them; you with your trauma with Rookwood and the battle under the school and Ominis with his family and everything they did to him until he was old enough to break away from their strangling grasp, but he refused to let them take care of him and his needs. Quite frankly, they were sick of it. They could see the stress under his skin withering away the joy he once had for his life and it broke their hearts. It was time to break that cycle and show him how much they truly cared about him.

Dropping the last file from his never ending pile of reports onto his desk without a care, he glanced at the clock ticking away above the arched doorway of his private office. Just in time to go home. With a renewed sense of energy, Sebastian quickly gathered his things scattered around the room and rushed out the door, waving bye to a few of his colleagues as they called out for him to have a good weekend, and apparated home without a second thought.

Little did he know, the lovely curse breaker had an even lovelier surprise waiting for him when he got home, that was for sure.

Apparating into their shared living room, he noticed two things right off the bat. First, the lights were dimmed around the entire house, candles floating just below the ceiling and casting a romantic glow across the walls, and second, there was a path of clothes leading down the hall towards their shared bedroom. He could distinctly point out Ominis' favorite waistcoat, a gaudy thing that looked like it was skinned right off of his grandmothers couch, and your Professors robe, iridescent hues of forest green and gold decorating the velvet and fleece. His heart stuttered in his chest, a blush making his way across his face and down his neck at the prospect at what he was about to find waiting for him. Even after all these years, the two of you could still make him as flustered as a school boy.

He delicately made his way down the hallway, stepping around the clothes, his heart beating steadily but fast in his chest as he heard the soft laughter of his partners seep through the cracked doorway. Sebastian gulped lightly in his throat, steadying his nerves before gently pushing the door to their master suite open and taking in what was waiting for him.

Resting on your shared bed was his two partners, sprawled out in nothing but their underclothes and a beautiful red flush dancing along their skin. They each were already panting in need, likely from a bit of foreplay before he had gotten home. The idea of them beginning without him so they could jump right into action when he got there made his brain short circuit, static filling it for a moment as he processed everything in front of him. He cast his eyes around the room, taking in everything the both of you had done to set the mood— he wanted to appreciate your effort, after all. Floating above your nightstands and chest of drawers were more candles, their gentle flame creating enticing shadows around the room and glowing against the sweat shining on your skin. A mix of red, salmon, and burgundy rose petals decorated the foot of the comforter and the floor around the four poster bed, filling his nose with the sweet aroma of vanilla and flowers. You and Ominis had gone all out for him, and his heart filled with love at the idea of you both taking the time out of your day to make the night special. Sebastian momentarily racked his brain, stressing slightly that he forgot some important date, but he came up empty. What was the occasion?

In all honesty, he couldn't really give a damn. He was just happy to be there.

Flirting his eyes back to the pair of bodies adorning the silver colored bedspread, heat began to burn in his stomach and fuel the fire in his loins. Sebastian lightly groaned, an absolutely sinful noise making its way out of his throat, as he tilted his head back to the ceiling in elated disbelief. He could already feel his trousers tightening around his growing member as he verbalized the thoughts and prayers swirling around his mind.

“Merlin, God, Buddha, Ra, whomever is up there— I don’t know what I did to deserve this gift, but thank you.”

His partners laughed at his little speech, making their way from the bed to their very bothered partner and flanking either side of him. The heat from their bodies seeped through his suit jacket, spreading over his arms and flowing from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. He sighed in pleasure, both of his hands reaching up and threading his fingers through yours and Ominis’ hair as you each began to suck light bruises on his neck. Sebastian felt like he died and had gone to heaven, tugging you both away by your roots and smashing his lips against the closest of the two— in this case it was Ominis. He gripped the blond by his hips, letting go of you and allowing you to sit on the bed once again and watch the show as he proceeded to stick his entire tongue down the blond’s throat. The smaller of the two moaned against his lips, his lovely long fingers reaching up to the broad shoulders of his partner and pulling the jacket from his form with enough force to make Sebastian slightly lose his balance. Ominis took this as the perfect moment to strike, taking the taller of the two by surprise and shoving him roughly into the wall behind them. The brunette sucked a breath through his teeth, his pupils doubling in size with unrestrained lust coursing through his blood. Ominis attacked his throat once again, one hand tracking his nails lightly down the other boy’s cheek before his fingers wrapped around his neck and squeezed. A heady whine left Sebastian’s throat, feeling his head get slightly fuzzy at the lack of air and the transcendent burn of his partner’s kisses down his jaw and under his shirt collar.

Ominis chuckled against the column of the brunette’s throat, the arousal heavily present in his voice sending shivers down Sebastian’s spine and even more heat to his core. The blond harshly sunk his sharp canines into the soft skin connecting the other boy’s neck to his shoulder, roughly tugging at the collar of his shirt to get a better grip, before licking the spot and whispering with a seductive drawl, “I’m going to take my time with you tonight. Do you remember the safe word?”

Sebastian groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of his partner’s sweltering breath against his pulse point and nodded. You both were going to be the death of him, he was sure of it.

Ominis laughed again, a breathy thing that made the brunette’s heart stutter, and cascaded his fingers down the front of his partner’s chest with bone-chillingly leisure touches. Moving his hands back up to the collar of the freckled boy’s shirt, drawing a shaking breath from his lungs in the process, he undid each button with tantalizingly slow movements. A moan lodged itself just under Sebastian’s jaw, only being freed by the feeling of lips returning to his pulse and slowly making their way down his chest as each new bit of skin is revealed to the cool wind of the bedroom. Ominis smiled with mischief against the brunette’s neck, taking the delicate skin against his jugular and sucking a bruising hickey for all the world to see on his absolutely enticing partner.

The blond breathed against his collarbone, feeling his way down the large expanse of skin that he had revealed and grabbing at the brunette's hips under the starched fabric. "It's an act of sacrilege for you to have to wear clothes."

Ominis reached his fingers dangerously into the trail of hair leading down his partners stomach and dipped the tip of his middle finger under his belt. Sebastian grabbed at Ominis’ shoulders, begging for something but not knowing quite yet what he wanted— what he needed. With bruising strength, the smaller man grabbed the other’s wrists and pinned them against the wall by his hips, a needy whine choking its way out of his partner’s mouth.

“No touching until I say so.”

Sebastian feebly nodded his head, thinking better of it and instead whimpering a soft affirmative. Ominis smiled, letting go of his wrists now that he was confident that they weren’t going anywhere, before ever so slowly pulling the shirt from the brunette’s shoulders and tossing it towards the other corner of the room like it affronted him, barely missing one of the many candles that decorated the space. The bulge in the taller boy’s trousers was getting painfully hard, straining against the zippered fabric of his formal-wear. This side of Ominis always excited him, the ability to completely release all of his stress and have someone else take over for him filling his mind with delicious bliss. Satisfied by the heaving breaths shaking his partner’s chest and brushing against his cheeks, the blond clasped his hand where it was resting once again against the larynx of his very flustered boyfriend and squeezed slightly harder than before. Sebastian’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, sighing as Ominis began to leave open mouthed kisses on his collarbones, trailing down his chest and stopping to bite lightly at his nipple. A shocked grunt left the brunette, slightly choked around the hand still lightly cutting off his airflow, and moaned into the air.

Just behind where the two boys were, Sebastian could hear a second set of heavy breaths, arousal spiking through his veins at the thought of their third pleasuring themselves to the sight of their foreplay. Soft moans filled the space just beyond where the blond had him pinned, the sound of cloth rubbing against skin danced through his ears like the most stunning piece of music. He wanted to reach out for you, take you into his arms and snog you until you forgot your name before taking you right then and there against the wall.

Ominis, hearing your sounds just as well, if not better, than Sebastian, leaned towards the brunette’s ear, nipping at his lobe before whispering breathlessly against his skin. “You sound so sinful against me, Sebastian, like I should be struck down just for the thought of running my tongue along your skin.” He deeply inhaled the scent of the brunette’s arousal, a combination of sweat and something primal. “You’re doing so good so far— such a good boy— our perfect boy. Will you continue to be a good boy for me and watch our friend while I tear the rest of your clothes off of you?”

Sebastian whined again, a pitiful sound that sent fire directly to the blond’s throbbing member, before nodding around the hand holding him to the wall.

Ominis chuckled deeply in his chest, absolutely intoxicated by his boyfriend’s submission.

“Good. I’m going to release you, now. I need you to tell me everything they’re doing. Give as much detail as possible. Am I clear?”

With a frantic nod of his head, Sebastian creaked open his eyes and met yours. The air in his chest stilled at the sight before him, a bolt of electricity striking down his body and nestling itself right in his lower stomach. His member was absolutely leaking at this point, painting his pants and trousers with an alluring wet spot. Ominis sank to his knees in front of the brunette, trailing his fingers down the sides of his thighs and drawing intricate patterns along the seams. The taller boy didn’t think that his heart could beat any faster, any harder in his chest— one more shock and it may as well burst from behind his ribs. He could already feel the tightening of the knot in his stomach, his orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast and without being touched by either of the people he loved. He had never felt this pent up before, never felt this loved , this wanted .

Ominis began to untie his dress shoes, taking his sweet time on each knot before pulling them off and beginning on his socks. He lightly pinched the skin by Sebastian’s ankle, startling the other man out of his pleasured bliss and reminding him of what he was asked to do. Focusing on you again, he recounted each of your movements to the blond, struggling desperately around the dryness of his mouth.

“Oh fuck, t-they’re touching themselves over their pants. They have a gorgeous blush covering their entire body, glowing with a beautiful shade of pink— like the sunrise. Their eyes are hooded— shit, they’re absolutely dripping, Ominis. Their noises are driving me crazy, can you hear them? I know you can, I can feel how much you like them.”

Ominis was now level with his groin, his searing breath ghosting over where the brunette desperately needed his hands, his mouth, anything. Deft hands worked on his belt, slowly undoing the buckle and pulling the leather out of the loops at a snail's pace. Ominis made sure to slide the smooth fabric along his skin, knowing how much Sebastian loved the idea of him and his belt, absolutely helpless to his whims. Giving the panting boy a small taste of what’s to come, he pressed his lips teasingly against the wet spot next to his zipper, mouthing lightly at the tip of his pulsing cock and murmuring into him.

“Look at you, being so obedient for me, Sebastian. You're doing so amazing. What else do you see? Be my eyes.”

Sebastian sucked in a breath, a feeble whimper sneaking its way out of his parted lips. The knot in his stomach continued to tighten, sending shivers of pleasure from his nose to his fingertips and making his member twitch, still buried under two layers of cloth. His entire body buzzed with energy, his hands shaking steadily at his sides with a frantic need to card his fingers through the blond hair just within reach.

“Merlin, Ominis, you’re killing me.” His breathing was shaky, small pants entering and exiting his lips and making him dizzy, “They look bewitching— absolutely hypnotizing. They’re parting those lips you love so much, both looking quite bruised and plump— your doing I’m guessing, you devil. Gods this is positively filthy—”

A loud swear shocked its way through his system, his head falling back against the wall with a loud thump as his blisteringly hot cock was released to the chilly air around them; its dripping head smacking against his lower stomach and streaking his pale skin and mousy brown hair with precum. Sebastian reached his hand towards his domineering boyfriend in a risky movement, gently brushing against the stray hairs that had fallen out of his styled quiff with intent to reach farther into his tresses and pull him closer to where he needed him. Ominis roughly grabbed his wrist before his fingers could go any further, pushing his hand back into place next to his now naked hips before taking his leaking cock in the other, giving it a sharp tug as a warning.

A wanton moan filled the room, ricocheting against the walls and spilling into the ears of you and the blond. Sebastian was positively trembling with want, his orgasm creeping closer and closer to the surface as apologies spilled from his lips like the finest of wines.

Ominis growled at his lover’s sounds, biting at the squishy meat of his thigh in violent arousal. “Merlin, you sound destroyed already and we’ve barely touched you. Is that what you want? You want us to completely ruin you like a common whore? Beg for it— beg for what you want, my darling.”

“Please, please, I’m so close let me cum please —” The brunette whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of his vision from the pressure building in his gut.

“You’ll cum when I tell you to, you—”

“Ominis, I think he’s had enough for now. Bring him over here so we can continue with the plan for the night, please.” You simper, cutting him off. A smug look turned up the corners of your face at the fucked-out expression of your normally composed partner.

Sebastian released the breath he didn’t know he was holding, his knees nearly giving out underneath him in relief as Ominis released him. The blond pushed him harder into the wall, leaning forward and smashing a ferocious kiss to his lips. A groan broke from his mouth only to be swallowed down by the other boy. Giving one more teasing squeeze around his throat, Ominis separated himself from the brunette and began to lead him towards the large king size bed they all shared. Sebastian hadn’t had a chance to truly look at everything laid out for him on the bed linens, his eyes were completely enraptured by the sight of his nearly naked loves as soon as he entered the doorway. Tied tightly to the headboard of the four poster were two silk scarves, emerald green and shining in the candle light. He gulped to himself, swallowing around the fear and pure arousal stuck in his windpipe, before carefully sitting down on the bed, collapsing back onto it while he willed his breathing to control itself.

You leaned over him, pressing feather light kisses to his star-covered eyelids and cheeks. “Do you need a moment before we continue, my love?”

He nodded minutely, letting his heart go back to normal speed and his orgasm to wean off again. The three of you sat in a soft silence for a few moments, pressing gentle kisses to every inch of skin you could reach on the brunette boy.

Ominis kissed him again, much lighter than he originally did but with just as much love behind it, before bringing his hand up to his cheek, tenderly brushing his thumb along his cheekbone and whispering against his lips. “Was that too much for you? Please let me know, beautiful.”

Sebastian leaned into the loving touch, bringing his hand up and wrapping his trembling fingers around the blond’s wrist. He softly shook his head, pressing a kiss to the boy’s palm before snuggling even closer to the warm contact.

Ominis hummed to himself, deducing that the other boy needed another moment before he could easily speak again. “I need more than that, Seb.” He smoothed the brunette’s hair from his sweaty forehead, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his skin. “Tap once for yes, twice for no. Are you truly okay? Do you want to keep going?”

The freckled boy scoffed lightly, his breathing starting to slow down to a manageable pace, and tapped his finger once against the smaller boy’s wrist. Peaking his eyes open once again, he saw a slow, devilish smile make its way across Ominis’ face. His heart leapt in his chest again and he fumbled for a moment, unsure if it was out of nerves or pure, inordinate levels of devotion.

Ominis pawed his other hand around the bed, searching for the third member of their trio before finding your hand and squeezing it. You leaned over Sebastian, smoothing his tangled curls down and pressing an affectionate kiss to his lips for the first time of the night. He could feel the care you both had for him spilling from your souls and wrapping his own in the softest blanket he had ever felt. He truly didn’t deserve you both.

“Can you scoot up the bed for me, Sebastian? Lie yourself against the pillows and let us take care of you.”

He did as he was told, leaning back against the soft feather-down pillows and relaxing into the silk of the linens. You straddled his hips, pressing kiss after kiss to his temple, his nose, his cheeks, and finally his lips once more. This kiss had more heat behind it, more hunger. He could tell how worked up you had gotten from his session with Ominis as you lightly grinded your pelvis against his, drawing a startled mewl from him that slowly transformed into a melodic moan. Reaching to where his hands had rested themselves on your hips, you grasped his wrists in your palms and raised them above his head, mouthing against his jaw and neck. With a soft mumble, Sebastian felt the tell-tale feeling of your ancient magic swirl around his arms, stretching up and wrapping the green silk around his wrists, binding them together and securing them against the bed frame.

He softly laughed, nipping lightly at your bottom lip when you moved back up to his mouth. “Did you just use your deeply ancient, completely unexplored magical powers to tie me to the bed?”

You giggled against his mouth, dipping down to slot your lips with his once again. “So what if I did?”

With a hum, Sebastian chased your lips for another kiss, his noise morphing into a whine as you moved farther away. He was already starting to hate these binds.

You got off his lap, sitting next to his head to his left while Ominis took the spot to his right. Sebastian could see how you gnawed at your bottom lip with nerves, how Ominis wrung his hands together as he came up with the right words to say, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Now was the time for the true reason you had done all this for your beloved.

Ominis spoke first, his voice much softer than the domineering presence he originally held. “Sebastian, we know what you think of yourself. I may be blind, but we both aren’t stupid.”

You laughed, “Well I might be a little stupid sometimes, but not about this, though.”

The blond snorted, trying to cover it up with a cough before turning once again towards Sebastian and meeting his eyes. Sebastian has known Ominis since first year, but the accuracy he had with finding another's eyes and holding contact even without being born with the gift of sight always intrigued and slightly unnerved him. He gulped, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You have done so much for us. You love us unconditionally— spread yourself thin at your job and still come home to us with so much love to give. We could never wish for anyone else in our lives, yet you question our devotion— our care for you.”

Guilt crawled up Sebastian’s chest like the spindly legs of an acromantula and nestled itself under his ribs. He looked down, breaking the eye contact that burned into his skull, pulling his deepest feelings out into the open. You softly turned his chin towards you, forcing him to meet your eyes and see the eternal, unrestricted love you held for him.

“My love, there is no question that you deserve us— deserve the love that we have for you. But, if you still don’t believe us, we have no choice but to show you exactly how much we want you— need you.”

Raising to your knees, you straddled his hips once again. Flicking your finger towards his binds, they unwound themselves from the head board and wrapped the rest of the fabric around his wrists, binding them together and locking his arms on either side of his head. Ominis pressed his hands to Sebastian’s upper back, gently lifting him from the soft sheets and slotting himself behind the boy, bringing his arms up a bit more and curling them behind his neck, elbows bent by his ears. He kissed the skin of his partner's biceps lazily, tracing his fingers along his cheek and jawline. A blush began to creep its way over Sebastian’s face, starting from the apples of his cheeks and working its way down over his nose, neck, and collarbones. You had never seen a prettier color in your life.

Feeling the pulsing heartbeat of your nervous lover drew a wide grin across your lips, corners stretching across your cheeks and feeling like they could touch your ears. Your lips traveled across Sebastian’s jugular, flirting downwards with feather-light pecks and drawing gasps from the lungs of your beautiful boy. You gnawed teasingly at his hip bone, hair sliding along the thing the brunette longed for you to touch, before whispering against his clammy skin.

“We are going to go back and forth, telling you one thing that we love about you until we either run out, or you finish. Whichever comes first.”

With that, you licked a long, languished stripe along the underside of his throbbing member, stifling his reply in his throat and causing one of the loudest sounds you had ever heard the boy make to cascade out of his pink, parted lips. Ominis groaned against Sebastian’s neck, making love bites everywhere he could reach— his throat, his shoulders, his collarbones, everything, and bucked his hips against the curve of the other boy’s ass. Sebastian bit his lip in desire, feeling just how much the blond had been affected by their erotic play earlier.

Kissing the tip of the brunette’s leaking cock, drawing a stuttered breath from his lungs and stretching your smile even wider, you murmured against his happy-trail. “I’ll go first. I am utterly enraptured by your courage and bravery. Even in moments of intense distress, you still stood by our sides and protected the ones you love.”

You pressed another kiss to his burning skin before leaning up on your elbows and taking him into your mouth, moving up and down at an incredibly slow pace and drawing long moans out of your partner. Sebastian threw his head back in ecstasy, opening up the column of his throat further to his bite-happy boyfriend. He nipped at the skin just behind his ear, smoothing the pain away with a gentle lick and kiss.

Ominis whispered tantalizingly in his ear, “My turn. I love your kindness and generosity. There isn’t a day where I don’t think about the little things you do for me and smile.”

The brunette whined, tears of pleasure and happiness building behind his lashes once again. He refused to open his eyes and look at either of his partners, all too aware that if he met either of their gazes he would lose his composure completely. Just then, you took him all the way into your mouth, the tip of him tapping against your uvula, and moaned around him, sending supernovas of stars behind his eyes and blazing through the warmth in his chest.

Well, so much for composure.

If his hands were free, Sebastian’s fingers would be digging into your scalp, pulling at the roots of your hair in an alternation of rough and gentle pressure. He wanted desperately to touch his lovers, but he didn’t dare disobey their orders. He wasn’t afraid of their punishment, but in complete honesty he wanted to savor this moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this— this level of affection and tenderness.

Swallowing around his throbbing manhood, you sucked in your cheeks and dragged yourself up, up, up to his tip once again, humming around his never-ending sounds of pleasure and sending ricochets of vibrations along his entire body.

You licked at his slit, collecting the elixir that continuously flowed from there and spoke again, arousal lacing your tone. “I love how much you care. You always put us before you, even when we’re being right bastards.” You laughed, pressing your smile to the skin of his inner thigh, “I also hate it, though, because you never let us spoil you rotten.”

Ominis placed his hand against Sebastian’s throat for a fourth time that night, not squeezing, but simply holding it in a possessive grasp. The unseemly sounds of you working the brunette to release filled his mind and sent burning fire to his pelvis, leading him to press his burning, still very clothed, cock against the other boy’s lower back. He willed himself to remain still— this was Sebastian’s night, not his. His freckled partner had other plans though, and grabbed at the hair at the base of his neck and slightly pulled, whimpering into the air around him with need.

“Please pleasure yourself, Ominis. I want to feel you against me— I need to feel you.”

The blond swore, dropping his head back to the brunette's throat and roughly biting at his pulse, seceding to his wish and harshly grinding against him. At this point Sebastian's skin was littered with speckles of black and blue bruises and reddened teeth marks. He could feel everything, the silk wrapped around his wrists and against his legs, the smooth breaths of the blond at his back— the rise and fall of his chest, your teeth gently grazing the large vein at the underside of his member, sending delicious shivers up his spine and filling his mind with static. He could especially feel the tightening of his abdomen as his orgasm got dangerously close to the surface for a second time. He was in absolute, erotic bliss.

Ominis grunted deep in his throat, leaning down and breathing hotly against the brunette’s ear as he whispered his next bout of praise. “Surprisingly, I love how stubborn you are. It’s a relief, sometimes, to know that nothing can change your mind about how you feel towards us. I’ve never felt so desired, so cared for, so loved.” He chuckled airily, “That being said, it’s only nice when it’s not being used against me.”

Sebastian whined loudly when he felt your nose brush against the hairs at the base of his cock, his hips stuttering and bucking more of himself into your awaiting throat. Tears had begun to spill down his cheeks at that point, only to be wiped away by Ominis’ gentle fingers.

You laugh again, releasing him with a pop. “What do you want us to do to you, sweet boy? Use your words.”

The sounds dripping from his lips were absolutely sinful— his begs and pleads filling the space around them. “Please, please , Merlin, you're going to murder me, you filthy bastards. I love you both so much— I need to be inside you, to have you inside me, anything . I can’t take it anymore, I need to feel one of you fill me and the one of you cumming around my cock.”

Your breathing stuttered in your chest at the crassness of his words and the sharp buck of Ominis’ hips— a deep, heady groan rumbling both of your bodies from the usually quiet blond. Quickly detangling yourselves, you help Sebastian to lie down on the pillows once again, unbinding his wrists in the process and delicately kissing the bruised skin from his constant wiggling and pulling.

The taller boy finally blinked his eyes open, gazing with half his normal amount of focus into yours. Your blinding smile brought one of his own to his lips, sending his heart aflutter as you caressed his cheekbone. Your pupils flicked left and right as you took all of him in, feeling yourself sink into his beautiful brown irises.

A loving sigh parted your lips as you drawled against his lips, “I think it’s my turn again. I love your eyes— I feel like I could get lost in them for the rest of my life.”

Grinding down on his hard length, your purred more muted praise against his throat. Ominis slithered behind the both of you, sliding his hand down along your spine and pushing you forwards so you were pressed chest to chest with the flustered man. Sebastian groaned at the sudden skin on skin contact, heat permeating through his flesh and directly into his soul. A sudden mewl from you shook him from his stupor, causing him to crane his neck to the left with as much speed as he could muster and watching what the pretty blond was doing at his feet. Color flooded his cheeks yet again at the sight of his long, lithe fingers prodding in and out of your entrance, stretching you just right so he could fit. Breathy moans continued to fill the air as you both moved against each other, pushing and pulling in rhythm with the smaller boy’s fingers.

You breathed against the brunette's lips, whining around your teasing words. "Do you think you can handle both of us? One of us bouncing on your throbbing, delicious cock while the other fills you to the brim?"

Sebastian swore at how uncouth you were being, nodding his head with enthusiastic rapture.

You keened, Ominis hitting that spot just inside of you that sent pleasure right to your core. "Good boy. I knew you could do it. I've been thinking about this all day— could barely keep my hands off of our boyfriend for long enough to make this perfect for you."

Ominis leaned down and bit you roughly on the behind, marking you as his own just as he did to the taller boy, before moving further into you and prodding at your entrance with his skilled tongue. Sebastian nearly wept at the sight, sinking his own teeth into your fleshy shoulder to muffle the noise. The blond sharply smacked his thigh, growling around his own arousal.

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let the world know how well we fuck you.”

Relinquishing his fingers from your tight entrance, he took Sebastian into his hand, gave him a few more slow, mind numbing strokes, and sunk you both into sweet, connected euphoria.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, fingers reaching up and tweaking at your nipple in elated bliss. The man under you bit his lip at the sight, throwing his head back against the headboard.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good inside me. Stretch me out just like that, yes."

Ominis set to work once again, taking the brunette’s legs in his palms and stretching him so that his calves rested on the blond’s shoulders. Whimpers flooded his senses as he became completely consumed by lust and the sounds of his partner’s pleasure. Licking his pointer and middle finger, making sure to keep eye contact with the brunette struggling underneath the both of you, he stroked his fingertips at his puckered hole, drawing another loud, needy whimper from his partner.

“I love your sounds, Sebastian. I’ve never heard anything more beautiful than the both of you singing in pleasure together.”

The man continued to tease at the other’s entrance, pushing his fingers inside and curling them against the spot that made everything go white behind his eyes. Ominis could feel him pulse around his fingers, smell the sweet scent of his release breaching over the surface slowly. In one smooth movement, he sunk himself into his love— you all finally becoming one.

Sebastian had never felt so full. Every sense in his body was in overdrive, sparking and sizzling behind his tightly shut eyes like the brightest of stars. Constellations flowed around his mind like the rings of Saturn, dancing through his memories and filling every inch of his body with infatuation. You both used him for your own pleasure, bouncing on him and filling him with heavenly bliss. The room filled with the sounds of your love: high pitch whines, low groans, skin slapping against skin, everything sinful that made his heart stutter in his chest and more. He could feel his very being reaching out and grasping towards the both of his partners, ready to worship them as the celestial beings that you were. Ominis leaned over you, digging his teeth into the opposite shoulder that Sebastian had bitten and marking you once more. Both of you were his, no one else's. He put all of his frustration into his thrusts, grabbing onto your hips as they stuttered against the brunette’s and slamming you down in time with his own movements, filling you with an otherworldly level of revelry.

Growling, his teeth clenched together as sounds of lust spilled from his throat and cascaded down onto your skin, Ominis spoke between each thrust. "You're ours, Sebastian. Take it for us, I know you can. You feel so perfect, squeezing me just like that."

The freckled boy slapped at your thigh, lacing his fingers together with the blond’s as they grabbed at your love handles with enough strength to leave bruises. Whines spilled from your throat like the fountain of youth, seeping into your partner’s ears and silencing every negative thought that hid behind their amorous expressions. Each thrust filled him with unimaginable levels of pleasure, his orgasm rocketing closer and closer to spilling over the precipice and into the blissful chasm below.

Sebastian stuttered against your shoulder, ecstasy piercing his brain each time your bouncing syncs with Ominis’ thrusts. “F-fuck— please can I c-cum? Please let me cum, I’ve been so good, please.”

You could feel your own release building, sending blinding hot heat to your stomach and blacking out your vision into an incandescent infinity. The blond’s thrusts behind you were getting sloppy, his rhythm stuttering around his hips and his fingernails digging painfully into the skin of your flesh. Pants flew out of your mouths, each of you struggling against the tightening pressure in your lower bodies as you fought for more air. You nodded at the brunette, your voice long gone in the throes of pleasure, before slapping one of your hands over the two combined at your waist, tying the three of you together.

Ominis whined, all his dominance shedding from his body only to be replaced with flustered indulgence. “Yes, cum for us, Sebastian. You’ve been so good— taking us so well. I want to feel you tighten around my cock as you release into them. Shit.”

At his words, everything in his brain was wiped away in a torrential downpour of heavenly euphoria— light flooding behind his eyes as his release exploded through his body, the both of his partner’s following soon after and sending the trio into the effervescent, enigmatic paradise.

Bodies crashed atop of bodies, cum mingling together and turning cold against your hot, sweaty forms. Sebastian gasped for air, his everything beginning to give in to exhaustion from the constant pleasure and pain he had experienced at the hands of his loves. Ominis rolled off first, gently kissing you on the back of your exposed neck and lifting off of the brunette’s hips. The freezing cold water of the washcloth the blond had grabbed was absolutely amazing against your skin— all traces of your exuberant sex being wiped away with a caring, gentle hand. Ominis tossed the washcloth away without a care for where it landed, exhaustion seeping into his own bones. With the last of his strength, he tucked his two companions under the blankets of their bed, cuddling up against the back of Sebastian and wrapping his arms around your waist where you rested against the brunette’s chest. You slotted together like pieces of a puzzle, love swirling around your souls and pressing gentle kisses to the magic that hummed in your veins.

Sebastian laughed breathily, sleep descending on him— he felt boneless, like years of his life had been swept away in the tides of contentment. His eyelids were heavy as he pressed his lips against your temple and the other’s wrist. “Marry me.”

A soft grin stretched across your face, sleep whispering sweet nothings in your ears just as it was to your boys. “What did you say?”

He snuggled closer to your warmth, reaching for the other boy’s arm and tugging him flush to his back. “I said marry me. There’s no one else I want to be with. No more doubts, no more insecurity, no more jealousy— this is it for me. This is my future; you both are my future.”

You hummed against his chest, the soothing sound of his heartbeat dragging you deeper and deeper into your slumber. “Let me think about it.”

You pretended to ponder for a moment, listening carefully to the brunette’s heart and gauging how true his words were. The solid, steady beat of his heart never changed— every inch of his body oozing trust and love. You kissed the skin just above where the organ rested and prepared to speak, your smile dazzling like the brightest constellations before craning your neck slightly over Sebastian’s shoulder, looking at the snoozing blond and squeezing the hand around your waist. “What do you say, Ominis? Should we marry this stubborn mule of a man?”

Ominis huffed, his own sleepy smile spreading across his cheeks as he squeezed the both of you closer to his chest. “As long as no one takes my last name, I think I’d be okay with that arrangement.”

You giggled, light and airy like wind chimes on a summer day, running your fingers first through the hair of the blond just at the edge of your reach and then the brunette pressed close to you. “I suppose I’m okay with that, too.”

You three would talk more about it in the morning, hash out all the details and ponder how one would even have a triumvirate wedding. But, until then, the blissful feeling of rest sweeped over the room, gently tucking each of the former Hogwarts students into the comforting arms of those that they love most in the world and filling their dreams with images of the future.

For now, all was well.

***

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writeforfandoms · 1 year

Text

Love Letters pt 2

Find the Halo masterlist

...this chapter also known as Oops I did it again

This is honestly just ridiculous fun at this point. A few people wanted to see how John would react to her getting into a Situation because of the Jeffries tubes again... and I couldn't resist.

Warnings: Fluff, minor panic attack, swearing, sass overload, but it's because she's terrified, remember she's scared of heights? Yeah she sure remembers.

In your defense, you had been in the Jeffries tubes for legitimate work this time. The engineer on duty was a douche, she always ignored your requests.

So you decided to just not make a request and do it yourself. It was a simple fix, after all. You could do it yourself.

The repair was easy. As expected.

But you might have gotten turned around in the tubes and taken a wrong turn.

And now you couldn't find a way out.

Well. When in doubt, keep climbing down. You were bound to find an exit eventually.

"Should've marked my way," you grumbled to yourself. "This is stupid. Roland needs sensors in here too."

You paused for a moment, putting your forehead against a rung, holding tight. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, and you were trying not to panic. There would be an exit. Absolutely. Because the Jeffries tubes didn't go on forever with no purpose.

One more deep breath and you continued down. This stretch of tube was straight, which made you think it was leading to something.

Hopefully that would be a good place to exit and get back to your room.

A quick look down showed a hatch, and you let out a relieved breath. Oh good. You were almost there. You paused at the access panel and hit the button to open the hatch.

The hatch opened below you and you looked down… into the engine room. You were not right above the slipspace drive, fortunately, but you were still far, far above the floor.

"Fuck." You looked down at the floor, eyes wide, heart slamming even harder into your ribs. "Oh hell."

You counted yourself lucky that the engine room was always manned, because it only took a minute for an engineer to spot you and shout. You clung tighter to the rungs in front of you, eyes closing.

"Hey! You okay?"

You didn't look down when you heard the yell, but you did nod. "I'm okay," you called back, voice wavering.

But you couldn't move. Too scared.

"Hang on," the person yelled up to you. "Someone will get you."

You whimpered, very quietly, and pressed your forehead into the rung in front of you.

John was going to have an absolute conniption fit.

You could hear the commotion down below you, voices and clanging and the background noise of the engine. If you could move, you could close the hatch and probably climb back up to another access point.

Probably. Your arms felt like jelly now, but that also could have been the fear.

Someone down below called your name, but you didn't look. You didn't need to. You knew that voice.

"Hi Fred." Your voice was more tremulous now, a little thready. Definitely showing your fear.

"Wait there. We're coming to get you." Fred, in contrast, sounded quite calm about all of this. Of course, to him, this was nothing. He'd faced down so much worse. He probably wasn't even scared of heights. Shame washed hot over your cheeks and into your chest.

You were pretty pathetic, clinging to the rungs of a Jeffries tube above a hatch that probably wasn't even supposed to open. Your fingers clenched impossibly tighter around cool metal.

The next call of your name was much softer and closer. You swallowed hard.

"Look at me."

You pried one eye open cautiously and looked down. An all too familiar gold visor met your gaze.

"You have to jump."

"What?!" You clung tighter, fingers aching, shoulders tense.

"I can't fit in there," John continued, calm as anything. "You need to jump."

"Or not," you started, swallowing hard. "I could stay here. Or climb back up, I can climb back up, just give me a minute and I can do that."

John said your name again, soft, steady. "I've got you. I won't let you fall."

And you believed him. You knew him. John was a good man, an honest man, a protective man.

"How are you even up here?" You worked on slowly prying one hand loose from the rung.

"Jetpack."

"Oh good, you've got a jetpack," you muttered to yourself, probably edging a little into hysterical.

John huffed softly and rapped the bottom of your shoes with one hand. "Sass won't keep you from needing to jump."

You took a deep breath. And then another. "I can't."

"You can." John somehow didn't lose any patience, still steady and confident.

"John…"

"I know you're scared." He rapped the bottom of your shoes again, just once. "But you can do this."

Idly, you wondered if this is how marines felt when he showed up to help. This surge of hope, this feeling that somehow just by being there John would make everything fine. Then you decided it didn't matter, because you weren't brave.

"Hey." One more gentle rap to your shoes. Almost despite yourself, you looked down. The visor was surprisingly comforting. "You can do it."

The encouragement from this man in that tone… well. You believed him.

So you swallowed once more, nodded jerkily, and… pushed back. You had one moment of weightlessness, one moment of sheer panic, and then firm arms caught you and held you tight against the armor. Granted, it was not comfortable, but you still wedged your fingers in as tight as you could manage, hiding your face.

At least you hadn't screamed.

Honestly, you barely felt the descent. You did feel when another set of hands helped to detach you from John and held you steady.

"Told you we'd come to you."

You laughed a little at Fred's matter of fact comment, choked but still a laugh. "Yes you did." You squeezed one of his hands, feeling rather light-headed now. "How long do I have until the Captain arrives?"

"Now." Captain Lasky stepped through the gathered crowd, arms crossed over his chest in blatant disapproval.

Your shoulders crept up to your ears and you averted your gaze.

"Captain," John started, not physically moving.

Lasky looked at him, looked at you, and then sighed. "Fine. Get out of here. I want you in my ready room at 0800 tomorrow." He pinned you with a look to make sure the order stuck.

"Yes, sir," you agreed, just a little squeaky.

Lasky nodded once, muttered something under his breath, and left again. Fred patted your shoulder.

"You should go lay down," he offered, very serious. Too serious.

"Uh." You twisted a little to look between him and John.

"I'm sure Chief will make sure you don't get lost again."

You blinked and nodded slowly, looking up at John. He just nodded for you to go first.

Except you'd barely gotten halfway back to your room when John nudged you a different direction. Curious, you followed his silent instructions.

And ended up standing outside his door.

John reached past you to open the door, and you stepped in. The room was pretty bare, with very little personality. You were not surprised.

"John?" You turned to look at him, still feeling unsteady.

A moment later you were being squished yet again to the armor, but this time you were better prepared. You looped your arms around his neck, holding tight.

"Thank you," you whispered into the quiet space between you. Absurdly, you felt tears welling in your eyes.

John just hummed softly. "Wait here," he finally said, halfway an order. "I'll be right back."

Curious, you let go of him and sat on his bed to wait.

But you got bored pretty quickly and decided to do a little investigation. (Snooping.) Not that there was all that much to investigate.

You did find a little treasure trove in his desk. All the letters. Every letter you had written him, neatly stacked and saved. Your lips lifted in a soft smile.

The door opened again and John came back in, out of the armor and dressed down in a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. Wordlessly, he walked over to you and gathered you into his arms again, holding you close. You breathed easier, nestling in to the warmth of him.

“You need to wear a tracking fob,” he murmured into the top of your head.

“I do not,” you grumbled back, pouting. “I was in there for work!”

“Above the engine room?” John’s voice couldn’t get any more dry.

“No.” You hid your pout against his chest. “I just got turned around, that’s all.”

John huffed very softly and squeezed you gently. “Tracking fob.”

“You’re awful.” But you were smiling when you shifted back from him. “When do you need me to go?”

“When do you need to get up?” The question was serious, even with the humor still lingering in his gaze.

You blinked at him and then smiled. “You want me to stay?”

He nodded once, gaze never leaving you.

“Okay.” You cuddled back into him, unable to contain your smile. This was new. But the good kind of new.

But you weren’t eager to get lost in the Jeffries tubes again.

#john-117 x reader #john-117 x you #lasky is still not paid enough for this

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hannahmanderr · 1 year

Text

DannyMay Day 9 - Ghost Zone

this one kind of got thrown together at the last minute, whoops

Words: 1,257

Summary: The A-listers manage to get themselves trapped in the Ghost Zone. Good thing the Prince is with them! Sadly, said Prince is about two seconds away from having a conniption over the whole thing. (FFN)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“If this is where ghosts are supposed to live, I’m never gonna die. This place is so boring.”

Danny gritted his teeth. Don’t snark back, don’t snark back, he told himself in a desperate attempt to keep from lashing out at Paulina’s comment.

It would be a heck of a lot easier if she and the rest of the A-list cronies would quit making jabs at his kingdom.

“The dead have feelings too, you know,” he said, failing to keep the sass out of his voice.

Well. At least he could say he tried.

Ashley sniffed. “I’m with Pauli. You’d think with all those cool powers and stuff, they’d live somewhere more interesting.”

“Yeah! I mean why else do they keep trying to take over the world?” Dash added. “Probably ‘cause our world is better.”

It took every ounce of Danny’s self-restraint to stop himself from whirling around with blazing green eyes and dishing out a strongly worded lecture about just how rude they were being at this point.

Except if he did that, they would undoubtedly have questions about the eyes and why he was being so defensive of the ghosts. Not to mention he was still getting a hang of the whole Crown Prince of the Infinite Realms thing, and he didn’t know if he could keep from accidentally summoning the crown and ring in such a high-emotion state. So yeah, probably not the smartest idea.

Still though, they needed to shut their mouths before someone overheard them and decided to teach them their own lesson. He liked to think that no ghost would be so stupid as to attack a group of humans, especially with him right there, but ghosts had a bit of a tendency not to think things through, particularly in situations that involved personal matters. And disrespect towards their home definitely constituted a personal matter.

Danny inhaled deeply. “You guys do realize you’re basically doing the equivalent of walking into someone else’s house and insulting it, right?”

“What? I thought you said those doors led to their homes,” Kwan said. He genuinely seemed confused as he looked back and forth.

Don’t snark back, don’t snark back. “I didn’t say it was exactly the same, it’s just similar. You - ugh, we are guests here. The least you can do is be civil and not get us attacked!”

“Ay, cállate, loser!” Paulina chided. “Maybe if you hadn’t messed us up with that invention, this wouldn’t be a problem in the first place!”

Ancients, Danny wished Sam and Tucker were here. Or even Jazz. “Or, and I’m just throwing out options here, if you hadn’t been messing with a dangerous weapon you knew nothing about, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” he shot back.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten. Another deep breath later, he said, “Look. All we have to do is get somewhere safe so we can contact someone to come get us. Once we’re there, you guys can say whatever you want, alright? I won’t even try and stop you.” He felt a little childish as he continued to stomp along the path, but he was at the end of his rope. He’d been trying to guide them through the Realms on foot and without flaunting his secret, though it was much easier said than done. At this point, he couldn’t be bothered to maintain his poise.

Dale and Dash jogged to catch up with him, to which he rolled his eyes. The jerks just had to be at the front of the pack.

“What makes you think you can stop us from doing anything, Fen-toenail?” Dash jeered.

“Um, guys?” Star said nervously from behind Danny, though he didn’t really register it. He was too busy being mad and trying to keep his crown and ring from manifesting.

“I still don’t know why we’re even following you in the first place,” Dale added, apparently also not having heard Star. “How do we even know you’re going the right way? We’ve been walking for hours! Knowing you, you’re probably just leading us in circles.”

Danny scoffed. “Trust me, if I could get us out of here and me away from you any sooner, I would. What would I get from keeping you here?”

“Guys,” Star said again, this time with more force. The three boys at the front of the group did not notice her still.

“Please! I bet you think this is hilarious! Your stupid little friends are probably watching us right now laughing their butts off!”

What little remained of Danny’s patience snapped. He felt his ring fizzle into existence around his middle finger and frost begin to circle his head. Turning on the two football players with his finger pointed at them, he growled, “You wanna know something? I-”

“Danny!” Star screeched as his foot suddenly landed on thin air. Gracelessly, he flailed his arms, trying to regain his footing, but it was too late. He fell off the path and tumbled into the green void. The other A-listers immediately began screaming in horror in harmony with Star.

Even as he fell, Danny managed to roll his eyes. Overdramatic jerks, he thought ruefully, though he was surprisingly pleased to hear Dash’s high-pitched shriek emerge out of the cacophony.

Then he remembered he was falling and, to these humans, that wasn’t a good thing. Instinctively, he tapped into his core, but in a panic not to use his flight in front of the A-listers and being hyper-aware of the ring and crown that had decided to make themselves known, he unintentionally drew upon his connection with the Realms. His core sang out, and the Realms immediately echoed in kind.

He couldn’t help but relax into their fold as they shifted the ambient ectoplasm around him, forming a virtually invisible cushion for him to land in. For a blissful moment, he forgot all about the screaming A-listers still on the path above him and his annoyance towards them. He allowed himself to lose his awareness to the Realms, which were flooding him with the feeling of security. They were all too pleased to show their affection for their Prince, and he was more than happy to return the favor.

Then a particularly forceful cry from Ashley shattered the tranquility.

“What did you do to yourself?” she shouted. She and the others were bent over the edge of the path, staring down at him. He hadn’t fallen far - only about 20 yards or so.

“And what the heck is that on your head?” Kwan demanded.

Danny winced. A glance at his hand confirmed it - his regalia was on full display. He didn’t need to check for the crown; he could feel its chill wrapped around his head.

Except there was another problem. In his panic, he’d forgotten that with the regalia of the Ghost King (or Prince, in his case) came the display of the bearer’s death scar. Clockwork had tried to explain it as a symbol of the King’s strength, endurance, and transparency, but Danny still didn’t understand it completely. Either way, it didn’t change the fact that tradition was tradition, and thus his death scar was in full view. For Pariah Dark, it had been the scar over his one good eye.

Unfortunately for Danny, his lightning scar stood out a lot more than Pariah’s.

He smiled shyly as he looked back up at the gaping A-listers. “This prove I know what I’m doing?” he joked, though he sounded unsure of himself.

Paulina promptly fainted.

#danny phantom #dannymay #dannymay2023 #dannymay 2023 #ghost king au #ghost king danny #danny is done with everything #and ghost king danny is literally my fave AU hands down

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kenny-power · 1 year

Note

Johnny cade x winston!reader where dal actually sees how happy reader makes him xox ❤️😘😝😍

How happy

J.C. x Winston!Reader (REQUEST)

Warnings: Language

Fluff, established relationship, word count: 1.8k

A/N - Hi babes! I hope I did this request justice <3 I accidentally made it a lil long, but oh well! Please please please send in requests, I love them!

✨✨✨

If anyone were to ask me to describe my brother, “understanding” and “patient” would not be words I would use. Now, “overprotective” and “irrational”? Those are words I’d use to describe him.

Dallas Winston cares for only 2 things in his life; his baby sister and Johnny Cade. However, I don’t think he’d appreciate us being together. Which is why we have to sneak around behind his back. Dally just wouldn’t understand.

So it’s totally not wrong to be climbing out of my window right now, with full intent to meet up with Johnny at the drive-in. Not wrong at all.

Johnny and I have been dating for a few weeks now, but despite the relationship being new, the concept of us was not. Since high-tailing it out of New York with my brother, me and Johnny got along like fast friends. He was always the one who I went to when my brother did or said something to piss me off (which was often). Whether I was running from the cops or the socs, I knew I could always run to him. Likewise, anytime his folks were giving him a hard time, I’d be there. No matter the time, no matter where I was, I’m there for him.

He’s been the love of my life since before I even knew what love was.

And that’s why I just can’t tell Dallas. He wouldn’t understand. To Dally, I’m still the same 10 year-old kid that arrived in Tulsa with him, looking for a new start. Never mind the fact that I’m practically a grown-up now. I can legally drive and everything. Nope, to him, I’m still his kid sister who’s afraid of the dark and always asks for the extra pickle off his plate.

Sure, life would be easier if I could tell Dal about me and Johnny. For example, I wouldn’t have to climb out of my window like I am right now in order to see Johnny. We would also be able to go on date, all proper-like, without Ponyboy as a chaperone to make it seem less date-y. But I can’t. Not only because Dally would have a conniption fit if he found out, but also because Johnny asked me not to tell. Not until he had at least a little time to work out a possible escape route. And who am I to tell Johnny ‘no’?

So, sneaking around is the only solution. And I’ve gotten pretty good at it, or so I thought.

Johnny and I usually try to go to the drive-in for a date at least every other week. It’s not like we’re obsessed with watching movies, that’s more Pony’s thing, it’s just one of the only things we can do together without being too suspicious. Usually, Pony tags along with us, sitting a couple of seats away to give us at least a little bit of privacy. But Darry wouldn’t let Pony come out with us tonight - something about homework or studying, I don’t know - so tonight is one of the rare times that it’s just me and Johnny. I love nights like this. Nights where we can pretend everyone already knows about us and he can take me out like he wants and I can spoil him like he deserves. But for now, it’s still just pretend. I’m not really sure what movie is playing, some sort of western, but eventually I get tired of sitting around and get up to go get popcorn.

“Hey doll,” Johnny protests when I untangle my arm from his, “where you going?”

“Popcorn,” I say before leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Wanna coke?” He smiles back at me, blushing.

“Thanks baby.” He says. Leaving my coat in my seat, I make my way to the concessions stand. It was one of those nights where it started out warm but eventually got pretty cold. So, I brought a jacket just in case.

The concessions line wasn’t too long, but it was still several minutes before I started to make my way back to ours seats. However, I quickly ducked behind a trash can when I saw my big brother making his way towards Johnny and the empty seat next to him. The seat that still had my coat on it. Well, shit.

Johnny was sitting quietly in his seat, waiting for you to come back. This was his favorite kind of night - one where it was just you and him. Where you guys could just be a couple, without the fear of what your big brother would do. Now, don’t get him wrong, Johnny respects the hell out of your brother. How could he not? Dallas is the toughest greaser around who’s willing to do anything to protect his kid sister, even if that means thrashin’ someone who get a little too close to her. And that scares the hell out of him.

It’s not like he wants to keep his relationship with you a secret. There’s just never a good enough time to bring it up. What’s he gonna do, waltz up to Dally and say “Oh, by the way, I’m madly in love with your sister and plan on marrying her one day.” Johnny doesn’t think he could even try to run fast enough to escape Dally’s wrath after saying something like that.

But, if Johnny knows one thing, he knows that he loves you. More than life itself. He loves you so much that he’s willing to face the devil called Dally if that means you could be his forever. He’s just gotta work up the nerve to talk to Dallas.

As if God (or the devil, depending on how you look at it) was listening to his inner thoughts, a heavy hand came down on his shoulder - shaking him from his reverie.

“Johnnycakes! What a surprise, man. Didn’t think I’d see you here. I thought Pony couldn’t come out tonight?” Johnny nervously lifted his eyes and made saw the very person he was thinking about. Dallas. Well, shit.

He cleared his throat nervously.

“H-Hey, Dal. What’re you doin’ here?” His was dry, the words sticking to the inside of his mouth. Dally scanned the crowd of other movie-goers before responding.

“I’m lookin’ for my sister. Apparently she didn’t think she needed to tell me where she was tonight. So’s, I’m just lookin’ in all the usual places. Have you seen her-” Dally paused, clocking what was obviously his sister’s jacket in the seat next to Johnny. “Hey, man! Are you on a date?” Dal clapped Johnny on the shoulder appreciatively. “So, who’s the lucky broad? Where’s she at? Anyone I know?” He started scanning the crowd again, trying to find you.

Johnny laughed nervously, “I guess you could say that.” He too began looking around, to warn you.

Dal stopped looking around and peered at Johnny’s face, which he was sure was as red as a tomato by now. “Whaddya mean by that? You guess?” He squinted at him. “It’s not Sylvia is it? I told her me and Steve’d beat the tar outta her if she was sniffing around you again.”

“No, no!” Johnny said, a little too loudly. “It’s not Sylvia. Swear it, I wouldn’t ever mess with her.”

“Well, spit it out man. Why’re you bein’ so secretive?” Dallas leaned in closer to Johnny, fighting to keep the grin off of his face.

I watch from behind the trashcan as my older brother starts to get in Johnny’s face. Not good, not good at all. So far, there hasn’t been any yelling or signs of anger from Dal, but knowing him, it was only a matter of time.

Staring intently at the pair, I wait to make my move. (Whether that be high-tailing it out of there or going to rescue Johnny, I’m not sure yet.) Then, I make eye contact with Johnny and see him give a tiny nod. Guess that means it’s time to fess up. Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for the incoming conversation. This probably wasn’t going to be pretty.

I walked up to the boys, carrying a popcorn and coke, trying to smile brightly (but it probably looks more like a grimace).

“Hiya, Dallas. What’s new?” At the sound of my voice, Dal whips around and glowers at me.

“Don’t give me that, you little shit. You snuck out. I’ve had enough with chasing you around town to make sure you don’t get killed or some shit like that.” Staring back at him, I don’t say anything. Instead, I move around him, put the food down, pick up my jacket from the seat, and sit down. Then, just because I could, I grabbed Johnny’s arm and put it around me. Not breaking eye contact with my brother the whole time. Johnny was tense beside me.

He clocked my intentions instantly. The bad part about growing up with him is that he is almost always able to read me to a T.

“So,” he started, tensely, “so this is why you sneak out all the time? To hang out with Johnny without telling me? What, do you think I’m stupid, or something?” His voice was getting louder, anger increasing. Oh no. Maybe I shouldn’t have acted like that. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” That caught me off guard.

“Me?” I scoffed, incredulously. “Why am I an idiot?” Dal chuckled.

“You really think I wouldn’t notice my kid sister acting as if she was in love or something? Baby, I think I could pinpoint the exact moment you two started going steady.” I paled. Apparently I’m not as good of an actor as I initially thought.

“Are you mad at me, Dallas?” I asked quietly, looking up at him through my lashes.

“Aw, hell kid.” He sighed. “No, I’m not mad. I just wish you woulda told me. I can see how happy he makes you” He turned a pointed finger to Johnny, who was quiet and pale this whole time. “You. Have her home right after, no messing around, got it?” Johnny nodded.

“Ye-yes, I got it.” Dal smirked, satisfied. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out 5 bucks and handed it to Johnny.

“Take her somewhere to eat after. Then, get some sleep. Cause in the morning, you and me are gonna have a talk.” Then, he turned to leave. I jumped up out of my seat.

“Dallas!” He stopped and turned back to me. I gave him a hug. “Thank you.” He ruffled my hair.

“Yeah, whatever kid. Go back to your boyfriend.” Pushing me off of him, he left. I made my way back to my seat.

“I guess that wasn’t as painful as it could have been.” I said, tucking myself back under Johnny’s arm.

“Yeah, that’s what you say. I’m the one who has to talk to him tomorrow.” I giggled and pecked him on the cheek.

“Oh my poor baby boy.” He blushed, but turned his head to face me.

“You missed,” he whispered, and leaned his head in to kiss me deeply on the lips.

#kenny-power #Johnny cade x reader #the outsiders imagines #Johnny x reader #Johnny cade imagines #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston

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aerequets · 2 years

Text

the perfect family

a/n: another one sitting, 1 AM fic! (its actually 1:30 right now but.)

again, no rereading, no beta, bla bla............ yall know the drill. enjoy!

WAIT WAIT first i want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the love, its actually insane. i havent been able to reply to all your reviews but just know i reread them ALL multiple times and giggle and save them to look at later. i love all your reviews so much yall have no idea. im glad people enjoy my writing!!

okay now enjoy haha

Rating: T

read on ao3

Summary: Twilight had never been this tired in his whole life. He’s used to grueling missions. He’s used to getting a meager few hours of sleep per night. He’s used to being in a perpetual state of anxiety and stomach-achiness. But being Loid Forger is something else entirely. Being a family man, a parent, is no joke.

Or: Twilight has a dream about the "perfect" family.

Twilight had never been this tired in his whole life.

He’s used to grueling missions. He’s used to getting a meager few hours of sleep per night. He’s used to being in a perpetual state of anxiety and stomach-achiness.

But being Loid Forger is something else entirely. Being a family man, a parent, is no joke.

First off, Anya almost got another Tonitrus at school earlier that day. Fiona had relayed to him via his earpiece that Yor had left a message on his office phone that Henderson had called her about Anya using some colorful language. The teacher was willing to discuss before taking further action since Anya claimed he’d misheard. Yor was apologetic and said her break was over and she was needed at work, so would he please go see Anya if he had the time (Fiona didn’t relay it in as kind terms, but Loid could imagine). Loid, who was in the middle of a warehouse stakeout, had to shimmy out of the vents in his best approximation of a hurried worm while trying not to have a conniption above his targets’ heads.

When he finally got to the school, changed into ordinary work clothes and hyperventilation in check, he had to meet a sheepish Anya, who was busy trying to convince Henderson that she’d called Damian “sofa king stupid, like the evil villain Sofa King from Bondman (nonexistent), who is stupid”. She’d crafted a whole backstory for the villain and his love for all manners of seating furniture, which was what eventually sent him to his doom as he watched his favorite armchair get run over by a car. Somehow.

In other circumstances, Loid would be impressed at the intricate lie—and equally concerned that she was able to think of it—but at that moment he was busy trying not to shit his pants from the way his heart dropped into his ass. Where had she learned that language?! It was a huge concern that he couldn’t even address because he had to back her play and convince Henderson that, yes, Anya didn’t cuss, heavens no, where would she possibly have learned that? How inelegant!

Anya got off with a warning from the teacher to not call others stupid. Loid considered reprimanding her once they left the office, but thought it best to wait until she finished the school day and returned home to tell her she was grounded.

Anya inexplicably threw a tantrum right then. “I didn’t get a bolt,” she wailed. “Why should I be punished?!” He was torn between trying to explain that he hadn’t even punished her—yet—and that calling others ‘sofa king stupid’ was not acceptable in any capacity. In the end, Anya yelled that she hated him and ran off to join Becky, who had been watching from afar with a strangely large smile on her face.

So that went swimmingly.

He went back to resume his stakeout, but by that time everyone had left the warehouse and he had no new information to show for it. He ended up going home early, stomach aching this time in anticipation of Handler’s lethal disapproval. When Anya arrived home from school, all she did was send him a nasty glare (and stick her tongue out at him when she thought he wasn’t looking) before slamming the door to her room. To make matters worse, Yor had told him that morning that she’d be home late. It was embarrassing to admit, but he had no idea how to navigate Anya’s tantrums without her around. Usually he and Yor made a team wherein she calmed down and soothed Anya while he explained their perspective. He had a feeling that if he tried to soothe Anya she would call him a big liar. And maybe some other choice words, which he still didn’t know how she learned, if she was feeling extra mad.

When Yor returned, he was just about finished cooking supper. He was still at the stove when he heard the door open, so he called out a hello from the kitchen. When he didn’t hear a response, he turned off the heat and stepped out to see Yor, standing petrified by the door. There was a spider in the entryway.

“Oh,” he said. Yor could paralyze a cow, but she couldn’t stand bugs. “Hold on, I’ll get a glass—” But at that moment, the spider scuttled a little to the right, eliciting a shriek from Yor. Before Loid could even blink, her shoe was slamming down onto the bug.

And through the floorboards.

She stood with her foot through the floor for a few seconds, him watching with a slack jaw, before she gingerly lifted it out of the hole. The sheer force had caused cracks to spread out all the way to where he was standing.

“I—I—” Her mouth was opening and closing, hands fluttering helplessly. She looked mortified. “I’m so…sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, hardly hearing the words coming out of his own mouth. His eyes stayed fixated on the saucer-sized hole in the ground. A mallet would probably have done less damage. “Those floorboards needed replacing anyway.”

Maybe it was something in his voice, but Yor didn’t insist like she usually would. Instead, she quietly asked, “Where’s Anya?”

He sighed that time, knowing he failed to keep the tiredness out of it. “Her room. She’s angry with me.”

Yor dipped her head. She could probably approximate what had happened since Henderson had explained the situation to her first, which Loid was glad about because he didn’t feel like rehashing every disastrous detail from that meeting. “I’ll go talk to her.”

He should have been more relieved, but instead he felt like all the energy was sucked out of him once she left. He cast one last glance at the hole in the floor before heading to the living room to slump down on the couch.

Every normal family had bad days, he knew. But he couldn’t fool himself into thinking any of this was normal. His daughter had mysteriously obtained a foul mouth and repeatedly came close to demerits. Her teacher probably thought their whole family was one giant red flag. His wife could crush wood beneath her foot like dry leaves. Rarely did he ever think this operation was hopeless, but right now it was like a suffocating reminder weighing down on his shoulders. Everything was wrong.

Nothing about this mission was going how he thought it would. His family was nothing like the people that the Forgers were required to be on paper. He’d been unwillingly flying by the seat of his pants until now. It was exhausting. His luck had to run out sooner or later, and he’d gotten used to relying on it.

These were the last things Loid thought as he nodded off.

…

“Papa? Papa, wake up!” Small hands gently patted his cheek. He furrowed his brows before slowly opening his eyes with a low groan. He was met with the sight of large green eyes close to his face.

“Anya?” Had he fallen asleep? Concerning, but no matter—it looked like Yor had talked to Anya and managed to calm her down. He sat up and rubbed at his face before realizing three things.

One, he was not on the sofa. He was on a bed. What time was it? They hadn’t eaten supper yet—had Yor decided to just carry him into his room? An embarrassing thought, especially since that meant he’d somehow stayed asleep through the whole thing. How was he this lax when the day had been so disastrous?

Second, a quick examination of the room revealed that it wasn’t his room at all. It was Yor’s. Maybe she thought it would be inappropriate to enter his room without permission and had taken him to her own room instead. It was a reasonable explanation that he was ready to accept before he noticed his clothes strewn about a chair in the corner. On the nightstand next to her bed were his glasses and his meds.

…Why were his things in her room?

Before he could even start getting into that, though, there was the third thing, odd enough to put pause on the room dilemma for the moment.

Anya’s head was devoid of her usual hair ornaments, the same ones she never took off or let anyone—including him and Yor—touch. Her head looked strangely empty without them. He must have looked baffled, because Anya tilted her (smooth, cone-free) head.

“What’s wrong, Papa?”

“Um…” He blinked a couple times as if that would put the cones back on her head and the room to rights. It didn’t. “My room? Your hair…?”

Anya squinted, clearly confused. At that moment, the door creaked open and Yor stepped in, causing him to jump a little. She was wearing an apron and brandishing a spatula. “Anya? Is Papa not waking up?”

“His eyes opened, but I think he’s still sleeping,” she stated. Yor laughed.

“Alright, you go and start eating breakfast. I made omelette.” Loid’s eyes widened—Yor had made breakfast?!—but, to his neverending surprise, Anya excitedly whooped before running out of the room.

What on earth was going on?

“You must have had a busy day yesterday,” Yor said as she approached him. He subconsciously tensed as he watched her approach, heartbeat quickening. She was looking at him…differently. “You’re usually up before me.”

“Ah…I guess,” he said vaguely. He had to figure out what exactly was going on. “How does Anya feel about yesterday?”

“Yesterday?” Yor frowned. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember? The… the call?”

She placed a hand on his forehead. He froze—she never initiated contact first. Never so casually. She retracted her hand with a thoughtful hum. “No fever. I guess Anya was right, you really are still half asleep.”

His brain couldn’t make sense of what was happening. He was a man who operated on logic and reason, and nothing about the current situation made any sense. So, naturally, all that left his mouth was an unintelligent “Wuh?”

She giggled. “Oh, you’re so cute in the morning.”

What?

She leaned down and pecked him on the lips. “Come and eat before it gets cold.”

What?

Mercifully, she left at that moment, so she didn’t see him short-circuiting. Okay, calm down, he commanded himself through his racing heart and sweating hands. It was ridiculous, he never had such extreme physical reactions, but to be fair. What just happened?!

Calm down, he thought again, and this time his heartbeat eased slightly. He would do what always helped him calm down: go over the details and focus on what he knew. So here were the things he knew: it looked like he was in Yor’s room, which they may be sharing. Somehow, the events of the previous day hadn’t passed, as Anya wasn’t angry and Yor didn’t remember. Anya didn’t have those cones on her head. Yor could cook. Yor could kiss.

Was he in a coma?

No, that was ridiculous… but so was everything else. Nothing made sense. He mulled over it in bed before suddenly remembering—his mission log! He wrote everything that happened in that secret log. If, by chance, he had somehow been drugged and knocked out by an enemy organization and was currently experiencing hallucinations in a torture facility, his mission log might indicate some plans to go to said enemy organization and he would finally have an explanation.

He got out of bed and opened the closet. He was sharing it with Yor, half of her clothes hanging on one side and his on the other. Ignoring the way that unsettled him, he knelt down and rooted around in his sock drawer. He pulled out an argyle sock with a loose thread and reached inside, praying. His prayers were answered when his fingers met cool metal. The key was there. He got up and reached inside the closet for his briefcase next. After unlocking it with the key and entering the 26-digit code, he clicked the case open and sifted through various forms of ammunition and explosives before pulling out the log, located at the very bottom. Of course, the whole thing was written in 3 layers of code, but there was no such thing as being too careful.

He flipped to the previous day’s log, expecting to see the same writing he’d put down in the morning and maybe an extra paragraph if he was lucky, but he paused.

It was all different.

‘Today went well, like usual. Anya did well at school. Closeness with Damian questionable, but successfully transferred gift. Yor had work function. Attended and put up successful front of upper class couple. Five stellas left. Estimated time of Strix completion roughly three months from now.’

There were too many things in that short statement for him to consider. ‘Today went well like usual’? Since when was that usual?

And five Stellas left? That meant Anya had already obtained three Stella stars! It should have made him overjoyed, but he was just baffled. Had WISE finally snapped and pulled every string in the last night? He couldn’t see any other way for Anya to have somehow gotten two more stars than she’d had yesterday.

And the last thing—Strix to be completed three months from now? Last month, Handler had told him that they were hoping to complete the operation within four months. He’d been so bad at lying that he could achieve that timeframe that Handler had snapped at him. But here, his log indicated that he was on track with WISE’s expectations. That everything was going according to plan.

He sat on the floor and started from the beginning of the log. He was a fast reader and had photographic memory, but even he had to reread some parts several times in disbelief.

Anya was adopted from the same orphanage, but none of her eccentricities were listed down. In fact, all he’d written was that she was well-behaved and performed well in school. What about her speech? What about her eclectic facial expressions? What about her love for peanuts, or her hate for carrots, or her uncanny ability to recognize his thoughts, or how she drove him mad, or how she made him proud?

As for Yor, he’d met her at that same party, but had correctly introduced himself as her boyfriend. Afterwards, they had actually started dating, and Loid waited a period of three months (short, but surely more appropriate than three hours) before proposing to Yor at a fancy restaurant. Romantic enough, the log read, to fool both passerby and Yor.

That was why they shared a room, and why she’d kissed him. Here, wherever he was, he was not in a mutually beneficial arrangement with Yor. She thought they were actually married, possibly even loved him—which was what he had originally planned for when first trying to find a wife.

The bitter taste in his mouth at that realization was not lost on him.

Was it possible he was dreaming? He pinched his arm. If this was a dream, it wasn’t one he could force himself out of. At least for now, he had to deal with the unfamiliar family outside his door. It seemed, at least, that he was still a spy and that Strix was still going on, so perhaps he could go to Handler and try to get some facts straight. Dream or not, he was not about to stumble around not knowing what was going on around him.

He heard Yor’s footsteps outside the door. Another thing for him to note down in his mind: she didn’t have the unparalleled ability to catch him by surprise here. He quickly closed the briefcase and shoved it back in the closet as Yor poked her head in the room.

“Loid? Are you going to eat?”

“Sorry, I just knocked some shirts off their hangers and was putting them back up,” he said smoothly. He got up and brushed himself off. “I’m coming.”

She sent him another smile before leaving again. He swallowed. Did they usually kiss? She seemed to do it with ease. He suddenly froze and looked back at the bed.

Did they…?

But the Twilight in the log wasn’t him. That Twilight had fooled Yor. That Twilight was a better spy than him. That Twilight made him angry. If he took advantage of Yor…

But what was he thinking? It was what he’d done many times before. Why was it different now?

He was giving himself a headache with all the difficult questions, so he put them aside for the moment and went outside to eat. The omelette was perfect. Anya had impeccable table manners. Bond, he noticed, sat attentively at the door like a guard-dog instead of begging for scraps at the table like he usually did.

It was the perfect family for the mission. So why did he feel so unnerved?

“Ugh.” At Yor’s grunt, he turned to see her hand clenched over a jar of jelly. She was twisting with all her might, but the lid wouldn’t come loose. After a few seconds she gave up and sent him a sheepish smile. “Could you get this for me?”

“Oh… sure.” He twisted the jar open with ease. Yor could pulverize a jar like this between her pointer finger and thumb. This Yor gratefully took the opened jar from him with soft thanks.

Breakfast passed peacefully. Anya hadn’t overslept, so she had time to neatly finish her food and gather her things for school. He and Yor got ready for work in the same room. He stared at his feet the whole time. They walked Anya to the bus, where she cheerfully bid them goodbye.

“I’ll see you later at home then,” Yor said, turning to him once Anya’s bus had vanished into the distance. He could tell what was coming this time and prepared himself for her kiss. This one was longer, long enough for him to close his eyes and shudder when she pulled away.

She placed a hand on his cheek, a divot between her brows. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

He swallowed, mouth dry. Everything was perfect. His daughter was a pleasant, well-mannered child who performed in school. His wife kissed him good morning and goodbye. He was a spy executing his mission without a hitch.

Everything was wrong.

But the one thing that was the same was that he was a liar, so he leaned his face into her palm and placed his hand over hers. It was fascinating to see, the things he could do here that he’d only had fleeting thoughts of before. Her face flushed, but no more than a wife’s face would flush at an ordinary act of affection from her husband. “Yes,” he lied. “I would.”

…

Unfortunately, no details were revealed by WISE like he’d hoped. Instead, he was greeted with a pleased Handler when he entered her office. He thought she might be putting up an act to scare him later until she spoke.

“Good job with the third star,” she told him. “Let’s try getting her fourth one in the arts. It’s good to be well rounded.”

“The arts,” he repeated. He remembered her horrid cow drawing. Handler pulled out a folder from her desk.

“Yes. There’s an art contest coming up soon, isn’t there? She can enter any of these pieces for the first-to-third grade group. They’re quite good.”

He opened the folder and looked at the pictures of the artworks inside. Accurate, if not slightly lopsided, depictions of prominent figures. Landscape watercolors with good usage of color and perspective. A few sloppy but intelligently framed still-lifes of fruit.

He thought he preferred the horrid cow. All he said out loud, though, was “Understood.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Usually his debriefings with Handler lasted much longer, because they had so many things to go over and attempt to fix or counteract. This was an ideal situation, one in which she was pleased and the meeting went smoothly.

It did nothing to ease the sense of crookedness that had pervaded him all day.

When he got home, Yor was already there. This Yor, it seemed like, didn’t have to work late shifts. She was humming in the kitchen as she prepared dinner. It smelled delicious, but he wasn’t sure if his stomach grumbled or churned.

“Oh! Welcome back.” When she kissed him this time, he was able to keep himself together enough to reciprocate the appropriate amount and smile at her when she pulled back. “I’m making potato soup.”

“Smells good,” he said. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Help?” She cocked her head. “Don’t worry about that, you just got back from work! You should relax. Anya will be back soon.”

He didn’t want to sit alone with his thoughts, not to mention that he was used to cooking supper and had actually come to enjoy it. But Yor might think something was off if he pushed. She might put her hand on his face again, look at him with that divot between her eyebrows. He probably wouldn’t be able to take that. So he picked his poison and sat in the living room where Bond was resting. Usually the hound liked to rest by Loid’s feet when he returned from work, but this Bond remained in the corner. It was a small detail, but one he noticed nonetheless.

About twenty minutes later, Anya entered the apartment. “I’m home!”

“Welcome home!” Yor came out of the kitchen to hug Anya. “How was school?”

“Good! I got an A on the science test!”

“Wow!”

“There’s also an art contest,” she added. “I want to enter!”

“Go for it, your artwork is amazing!”

Over dinner, which tasted as good as it smelled, everyone shared their days. Anya’s school tales were nothing out of the usual for a normal child. Yor’s work stories were perfectly normal for a civil worker. Loid shared select details from his own mundane psychiatry. Dinner was civil, and normal. It was all normal.

After dinner, Anya studied mathematics. This Anya didn’t beg to watch Spy Wars—he wasn’t sure if she watched at all. This Anya didn’t struggle with fractions. This Anya didn’t beg to stay up past her bedtime and ran to the bathroom when Yor told her it was time to wash up. When he tucked this Anya in and asked if she wanted her chimera plushie, she sent him an incredulous look.

“I don’t sleep with that anymore, Papa,” she said. A little belatedly, he realized that the penguin plushie he won for her was missing from her room, too.

Maybe the other Twilight never got that plushie for her at all. That thought made him feel as hollow as the circle of Anya’s arms.

He bid her goodnight and washed up for bed himself. When he returned to his room, he froze.

Yor was on their bed, reading a book. She was wearing a nightgown. It wasn’t particularly revealing or racy, but it was nothing a woman would wear in front of someone she wasn’t married to. At least, not in the real sense. She glanced up at him and shut the book. “Loid? What’s the matter?”

“I…” His mouth was parched as his fears from that morning came barrelling back into his head. What did the other Twilight do with this Yor? How? How did he lay with her at night without feeling like he was going to throw up at the very thought?

He could imagine an answer now, though. It was because that Twilight was the ideal spy, with the ideal family, completing his mission in the most ideal way possible. That Twilight never made any mistakes; that Twilight adopted the perfect child to complete Strix, properly romanced a woman, and treated her like his wife. In every sense. And because that Twilight was the perfect spy, he would lay with Yor, kiss her, and would definitely be able to toss her aside in three months.

“You’ve been off all day,” Yor said as she approached him. He froze, eyes locked on the wall. Her hands came on the side of his face, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Really, Loid, what is it? You know you can tell me anything.”

I haven’t told you anything, he wanted to shout. I’ve been lying. He lied. I did.

At his silence, she leaned up and kissed him. The first three kisses from that day were short, if not sweet. This one was long. Languid. It was impossibly warm and felt impossibly good as she raked her fingers through his scalp. It pulled his heart to his throat when she pulled away just a breath, eyes lidded. “You’re stressed. Come to bed.”

It was when she leaned up again that he’d had enough. Gently, but firmly, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back, trying not to break under the hurt look she was giving him. Desire and disgust roiled through him in waves.

He could not. He would not. It didn’t matter what the other Twilight had done, or if this was a dream or hallucination. He wouldn’t do this with Yor, not when she didn’t know anything. Maybe it was just him losing his touch, or maybe he had a soft spot for Yor that he was still refusing to acknowledge, but she deserved better than a liar. Even if that might be to the detriment of the mission.

“I remembered I have some things to finish up for work,” he said. “Don’t worry about me and go to sleep. I’ll join you soon.” He quickly collected his things and left the room so he wouldn’t be able to see her expression. Outside, he spread his things out on the coffee table before lying down on the sofa.

Please be a dream. Please be a dream. He shifted and closed his eyes. He didn’t think he would doze off, but he must have been more tired than he thought, because soon everything went silent.

…

“Papa? Papa, wake up!” Small hands poked his stomach before a bigger weight landed on him. He let out an ‘oof’.

“Anya, don’t jump on him!”

Before his eyes were even fully open, the details of what had just transpired flashed through his mind. His heart skipped a beat as he blinked and looked to the side.

Large green eyes. And those black horns. Her horns!

Anya furrowed her brows and raised a hand to those hair ornaments as if she’d heard his thoughts. He could almost laugh. There was that uncanny reaction to his thoughts.

“Loid? Are you okay?” He looked up and had to remember to breathe. Yor was smiling at him, kind and gentle as ever. She also stood a pace away, making sure not to lean over him. It made for a strange mix of yearning and relief in his chest, but it was leagues better than her believing in a lie about their marriage.

He looked around. He was on the sofa in his day clothes. The scent of the supper he’d prepared hung in the air. In the entryway, a rug conspicuously covered the place where the hole would be. And Anya looked guilty.

“I’m fine,” he replied. He was even too relieved to do his usual mental spiel of how spies would never doze off in front of others. “I was just tired and fell asleep for a bit. Did you two talk?”

Yor sent Anya a meaningful look. She shuffled and pulled at the hem of her dress. “‘m sorry, Papa. I’m sorry I was so bad to Damian, and I lied, and I almost got a bolt, and I was mean to you…” She looked up and her eyes were already welling up, snot dripping from her nose. “I’m sorry I was so bad today!”

She rushed into his chest, bawling and getting snot all over his vest. He didn’t care. He smoothed a hand over her back and let himself smile. She was loud, messy, and erratic.

This was his daughter. Anya was perfect this way.

“As long as you understand why what you did wasn’t good,” he said to her. “I forgive you, Anya.”

After she calmed down a bit, he looked up at Yor. “Should we have supper?”

“Ah, yes.” As they got up, Anya holding onto Loid’s leg, Yor gestured to the rug by the entryway. An embarrassed flush was aglow on her face. “Um… also… do you remember that old toaster you were going to toss out?”

“The toaster?” Loid blinked. “Yes, why?”

“Well…since you were going to throw it away anyways, I thought…” She trailed off and decided to go over to the rug instead. She peeled it back to reveal a hunk of metal squished and flattened into the hole. “S-so it’s not a danger anymore. I swear I’ll fix it for real, but just for now—I hope you don’t mind, I—”

A laugh bursted out of Loid before he could stop it. Anya and Yor both looked up at him with the same curious expression that only seemed to swell his heart even more.

“It’s perfect, Yor.”

And it was. It was unconventional, jarring, and definitely strange, but it was stronger for it. And he rather liked the way it looked.

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