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#watch the goddamn queue
valaruakars · 1 year
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BACK BY UNPOPULAR DEMAND: ME.
Anyways, @uniquedeerwitch and @chaoticlicense were kind enough to keep tagging me in these lil games despite full hermit mode, so thank you!! Good segway into being active again since I am Anxious™
So here's 8 shows to get to know me:
Arcane (obligatory)
What We Do in the Shadows
Shadow and Bone
Castlevania
The X-Files
House of the Dragon
Interview with the Vampire
The Owl House
@weltraum-vaquero @heraldeez @basichextechml do it nerds
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As a proud Swiftie and a proud… Layton…ie(?) I am dead and my cause of death is the Rat Tale case coda.
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astrxealis · 2 years
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i was planning on reading akira x reader fics rn but like. ive read a lot of alrdy n like iehfksndksnd i will one day soon rb the ones i have in my drafts as recs n all !! suddenly in the mood to read for fe3h ogkwn
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wihltedarchive · 1 year
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i am This close (my fingers r touching)
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thedetectiveofinaba · 2 years
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Multiverse Naoto Info Post: Arisaka aka Post P3 SEES!Naoto
Age: 20. Timing in the main timeline: after events of Persona 4 (Golden). Spin offs may be included depending on if I feel like it. 
She helped IT during the events of P4. This will be only referenced as the background setup and hashed out fully later.
TLDR of that is that she got the enough information from IT and she informs Investigation Team after the interview has been shown in the news in the same manner and is unwillingly the bait victim to see how the perpetrator functions. IT squad saving her from the TV World and her joining the IT to catch the perp plays out near identically. She still almost kills a guy by enabling Yosuke to suggest The Idea, she roasts Adachi, and her arcana is the Fortune.  
Main differences to Violet (and the canon setup): Arisaka has never faced her own Shadow Self because she didn’t get one and summons her Persona with an Evoker. She usually puts the Evoker against the left side of her head to summon her Persona Apollo.
Arisaka lives at Kyoto due to studying Law and Parapsychology at Kyoto Uni. She’s doing occasionally weekend tasks for Shadow Operatives and has plans to move back to Iwatodai when she’s graduated.
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skully-bones · 2 years
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reason 1234546378615874 why i want a normal job:
i wouldn't have to fuckin babysit the job queue all day so i could actually do stuff i enjoy when i'm off
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monstersandmaw · 7 months
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Male orc x gender neutral reader (light nsfw)
Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
Commission number two folks!
Content: Gender and body neutral reader who’s autistic deals with sensory overload while at a funfair, stimming includes rocking and pressure on the hands. Male orc offers a way out so the reader can catch their breath. Very brief mention of the orc losing a close friend in the past year, and of deciding to live more in the moment because of it. Light-ish nsfw at the end with a bit of a fade to black. 
Wordcount: 7562
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Three hours ago, you’d been sure you could handle this. How could you not? It was a day out with your friends for Lily’s birthday, but of course, the orc had chosen the modern equivalent of a jousting tournament to show off her skills to her girlfriend. Still, you and Luke and Ellis had met up and made your way through town, collecting Lily and Maggie outside a gelateria, where naturally you all paused to buy the most amazing ice cream in town. With a start like that, how could things possibly go wrong?
After a leisurely walk to the fairground on the outskirts of town, you’d watched Luke win a fluffy white rabbit toy that was almost as big as he was on the coconut shy, despite the way the game was obviously rigged, but the werewolf had wagged his shaggy grey tail and howled his victory to the sky and clutched his new friend to his chest like it was his own goddamn child, and you’d clapped and cheered along with everyone else at the soppy wolf.
You hadn’t noticed the way you'd started to grip one hand with the other, squeezing tightly with finger and thumb just to give a little release to the steady buildup of pressure inside you as the atmosphere of the fanfare closed in around you. You also didn’t notice that you were gently rocking from side to side on the spot while you waited for Ellis to decide if he was going to go and say hi to the girl he’d been crushing on for a while, so when you found a teenager staring openly at you from the queue for the paintball stand, you assumed their attention was on Ellis.
Ellis usually attracted looks, not only because he was a goblin — a species that was relatively rare in your part of the world — but because his storm-grey skin was mottled all over with pale patches from vitiligo. He wasn’t bothered by the attention for the most part, but when you saw exactly where their gaze was directed instead — at your twisting hands — you felt an ugly stab of something bitter go through you. Carnivals may not offer the outdated and heartless ‘freak show’ elements anymore, but boy were you made to feel like one sometimes by other people.
“Hey, look!” Ellis exclaimed, his scratchy, reedy voice cutting through the maelstrom of noise and crush of people easily enough. “There she is! I’m gonna go see if she’s up for a ferris wheel ride. You think she’ll say yes?”
Your nod came out jerky and a bit stilted, but you mustered a smile of encouragement for your friend and he grinned back at you, all his sharp teeth glinting in the sunshine. Then something shifted in his expression and he frowned. “You ok?” he asked as his completely black eyes went a little wider with concern.
Again, you nodded and tried to look a little more convincing. After weeks of dancing around each other, he was finally going to shoot his shot, and there was no way you wanted him to miss because of you. “Fine,” you croaked. The word came out like a cat hocking up a hairball, but at least you got it out.
“Ok. Text me, alright?” he said. “Text me if you wanna go.”
You nodded. No way were you going to be the reason everyone left. If things got bad, you’d just… bail. Somehow. If you could find your way out of the crush of people without imploding first.
Glancing right, you saw Lily raise the hammer on the high striker and watched her muscles bunch and flex in her arms, shoulders and back. She was wearing a black tank top that said, ‘If lost, return Butch to Femme Fatale’ and beside her stood pint-sized Maggie in her denim hot pants and white t-shirt that read ‘Femme Fatale’. It was adorable, honestly, but as you stood there alone in the stream of people coursing and jostling down the avenue of grass between the smaller stands and side-shows, over-stimulation swamped you completely and you found yourself drowning silently.
Flashing lights, blaring funfair music, screaming, children running this way and that, rides rumbling and rattling on all sides, electronic bleeps and jingles mingling into a cacophonous mixtape in the air and reverberating in your head, cartoon pistol noises on the laser gun range sounding over and over and over, more screaming as the pendulum ride swung overhead once again…
The sensory overload raked its claws across your skin and left you with white noise in your head and cotton wool in your mouth.
The scent of candy floss grew chokingly thick in the air as you just stood there, paralysed.
Out of nowhere, a small and extremely solid lizardfolk kid barrelled into you, nearly knocking you flying. His horned head collided with your thigh and it hurt, but you didn’t cry out. His father scooped him up by the hand and apologised to you, but when he saw you rocking from side to side, he snatched his kid away and shot you another look, as if you were contagious or dangerous and not just struggling to kick start your brain again so you could get yourself the heck out of there and find somewhere safe to process everything.
Struggling to catch your breath, you gripped one hand with the other, squeezing as hard as you could but it wasn’t enough. There was just too much, inside and out, and you had nowhere to put it — nowhere to park it all until you could deal with it.
Someone ducked in front of you, their huge form blotting out the searing light of the afternoon sun.
Blinking, you looked up, still rocking, and tried to focus on their face.
He was an orc, you realised when you saw the huge, jutting tusks in his lower jaw and the expanse of sage green skin. A long, thick plait of black hair hung forward over his left shoulder, and through it ran a streak dyed a dark, vibrant red that was really attractive; it complemented the green tone of his freckled skin beautifully. Wearing a white, sleeveless tank top that had the logo of the fairground company on it, he wasn’t built like he spent every spare minute in the gym, but he looked like he could have lifted the ferris wheel right off its supports with no trouble at all.
Someone snickered nearby and you flinched, but you didn’t break the steady rocking motion of your body while mentally you tried to fend off all the unending stimuli around you. The orc’s expression darkened when he caught the sound of  laughter, and he stepped pointedly a little to the left. The movement served to block you from their sight and to refocus your attention on something that was quiet and solid and steady in front of you.
Yeah, he was solid alright. You blinked and watched the corners of his mouth twitch upwards just a little behind his colossal tusks, both of which bore silver caps over the tips to indicate that he had reached full maturity in the eyes of his culture. It probably meant that his tusks were filed to sharp points beneath the caps too. It was rare for orcs who lived in the city to stick to the older ways, but as you continued to stare up at him and move side to side while you ran your hands over your forearms, you noticed the beads in his braid of different materials: wood, copper, steel, glass, stone, and even bone. He’d lost someone close to him then at some point. Gods, now was not the time to be fishing everything you knew about orcs out of the depths of your brain.
For another few seconds, he continued to shield you from the staring judgement of the people in the queue for the nearest booth, but when you didn't seem to be able to settle, he jutted his chin to the side of the grassy avenue between the stalls.
“My name is Rhokann. You wanna step this way for a second? Catch your breath where it’s a bit quieter?” he said.
When no words came to your lips, he tilted his head just a little and then beckoned you with a big hand. “There’s a quieter spot over by that oak tree and the river. You want to come with me for a minute?”
You did. You also wanted to say thank you, but the words got glued up on their way from your brain to your mouth, so you just nodded.
He stuck out his arm and halted the flow of people for a moment to usher you between the candy floss stall and something else that was painted a thousand lurid colours so you didn’t look too long at it. Only when you saw the bole of a huge, old oak and a wide patch of un-trampled grass around it did you let out a shaky breath and turn to see him standing a little way off. A couple of people peered after you down the gap between the stalls, and he looked back at them with a very articulate and animalistic growl. That done, he stepped a little to his right, obscuring the view of you down the small alley with his body.
“Forget about them and look out over the river for a minute,” he suggested.
His dark brown eyes slid from you to the railings behind you, and you turned to see the river gushing in a white foam over the weir that controlled its flow through the city beyond. The sounds of the funfair behind you faded slowly, dissolving into the steady stream of white noise from the river, and you took a deeper breath and gradually released the death-grip you’d had on your own hands.
You let your gaze unfocus a little, but your body kept on moving as it tried to help you dissipate all the tension that had been building in your muscles and your mind ever since you’d first arrived at the fair.
A shadow moved in the corner of your vision, and you found Rhokann approaching slowly. He cast a pointed look at the metal railing to your left and said, “You mind if I join you for a moment?”
You shook your head. The word ‘no’ didn’t want to come, but he didn’t seem to take it as rudeness.
“Cheers,” he said. “Carnival gets intense, huh?”
This time, you nodded and he smiled when he saw it. You liked the way it hitched his mouth up around his tusk on the right, and it brought a twinkle to his coffee-brown eyes.
“Take your time,” he said. “You here with your friends?”
You nodded.
“They know where you were?”
You shook your head, but reached into your pocket and drew out your phone. Shaking it a little, you hoped he’d get the idea that they could contact you if they wanted to find you, or the other way around, and he smiled again in understanding. Your heart skipped a beat. He may have been seven and a half feet tall, but he had a gentle demeanour that you hadn’t really realised was possible in someone that big. He had a paunch too, which he clearly wasn’t trying to hide with his close-fitting, sleeveless top, and you could see from the scoop of the neckline that he had an attractive swirl of dark hair across his pecs that made you wonder what the rest of him looked like without clothes on; a fact that was startling enough in that moment to make you flush hot and look away.
“You want me to keep you company for a bit, or do you want some space?” he asked after another couple of minutes floated past.
You shook your head and then struggled to find the words to make him stay just a bit longer. When he saw you floundering, he smiled and asked, “Stay?”
You nodded, exhaling in relief, even as you fought off a rush of disappointment in not being able to form the words.
“You’re good,” he said with a wave of a huge hand. “Don’t stress talking.”
He took a deep, luxuriant inhale and leaned his massive forearms on the metal railing, easing his weight forward and gazing out at the river. His braid went all the way to the small of his back and it made you want to wrap it around your hand and tug just to see what kind of sound he’d make, and again, you had to look away before he caught you lusting after him. Just because you’d been rescued by a heroic stranger, didn’t mean you had to go falling in love with him in the following five minutes. It didn’t hurt that he hadn’t batted an eyelid at your stimming, or that he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you’d been rendered almost completely non-verbal by the whole experience.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket a while later and you drew it out again to see that Lily was looking for you.
‘Where are you, Titch?’ she’d texted and you smiled when you saw the nickname. The massive orc had given it to you back in college, and it had stuck ever since. Even Ellis called you ‘Titch’ sometimes, despite the fact that he was nearly a foot and a half shorter than you. ‘We turned around and you’d gone!’
Rhokann was watching you from the corners of his kind eyes, and you waggled the phone again before typing out a message to Lily. ‘Needed to step away for a second. Got rescued by a super hot orc guy. More at ten.’
Lily texted back immediately. ‘Super hot orc guy, huh? I’ll be the judge of that. Where are you?’
‘Big oak tree on the edge of the park near the river. Don’t embarrass me please.’
‘As if I’d ever…’
‘You spend every spare minute you’re not kissing Maggie trying to embarrass me and El and Luke.’
‘Fair play. We’re nearby. I can see the tree’
You locked your phone and swallowed thickly, feeling a bit more able to talk. “Friend’s coming…” you faltered. Wow. Nice and articulate, you sneered at yourself with your usual sarcasm.
“That’s good,” Rhokann smiled back. He made no move to push himself back upright from the railings though, and shifted his gaze back out to the city that sprawled over the other side of the river. He gave another sigh.
You stepped a little closer and looked up at him. “You… ok?” you asked.
“Mm,” he hummed. When he looked back down at you, his dark eyes were strangely sad. “Just… thinking,” he said with a gesture of his hand near his temple. “I’ve been working here all summer, and it’s been amazing, but I’m starting a full time job in a week. I’m just thinking about what’s coming next.”
“Doing what?” Words were starting to come back a little quicker now, but it wasn’t great.
He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, but before he could answer your question, you heard Lily’s voice coming from behind you.
“Hey Titch!” she called, and then she eyed the other orc ostentatiously up and down.
She raised an eyebrow when she saw the beads in his braid and the cuffs around his thick tusks, and you watched Rhokann deflate a little. Lily was not a traditional orc. For one, she was dating a human, which wasn’t exactly frowned upon but humans weren’t normally seen as suitable partners for her kind, and for another, she had cut her black hair short in a style shaved close to her skull above her pointed ears and left a little longer on top. She wore no cuffs on her tusks, and she’d filed them to softly-rounded points. “As much for Maggie’s pleasure as my own damned convenience,” she’d once told you.
Lily disdained orcs who stuck to the old ways, thinking them brutish thugs stuck in the past, and she folded her arms as she stared Rhokann down. “You wanna head home?” she asked in a low growl.
You turned your attention to Rhokann and he offered you a tiny, sad smile and a shrug of his shoulder. You wanted to stay and get to know him, but you also desperately wanted to be away from the fairground now. Your body felt drained of life, like you were running on fumes, and all you wanted was the quiet of your apartment, a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, and a good book.
In the end, Rhokann decided for you. He offered you a broader smile, and said, “It was nice meeting you. Take care.”
You’d never regretted your tendency to go non-verbal more than watching him walk away and not being able to say thank you.
With Lily on one side, you were joined by Luke a few minutes later, still hauling around the giant fluffy bunny he’d won, its ears flopping comically with each of his bounding steps, but you kept scanning every face for Rhokann. You saw an ogre with green skin that was a similar shade to Rhokann’s, but disappointment bit deep when you realised it wasn’t him, and when a flash of red hair up ahead drew your attention, you barely contained a sob when you saw it was a troll with multiple streaks of red in their black hair.
The walk back home passed in a daze, and you spent the rest of the day buzzing in the worst way possible.
A week later, Luke texted and asked if you wanted to grab breakfast on your way to work, and since you only had stale cereal in your cupboard, you practically leapt at the chance. ‘You mind if we drop my car off at the garage on the way?’ he asked with a subsequent text. ‘There’s an amazing little cafe just around the corner and we can get the metro from there afterwards.’
When his sputtering old deathtrap wheezed onto the garage forecourt though, your heart practically sputtered out as well. There, in oil-stained overalls, was Rhokann.
He didn’t spot you to start with, but when you climbed out of the passenger side and closed the door, his eyes flickered to you and then away again. Then back in a huge, obvious double-take, and his face split into a hearty grin. “Hey,” he chuckled once he’d taken the keys from Luke. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to see you again.”
“Neither did I,” you admitted, and Luke shot you a look. He was in his human form this time, but he was no less intimidating than he looked as a shifted werewolf. For all that he was happy to haul a fluffy, cartoon rabbit around a funfair all day without a lick of self-consciousness, he was a dedicated gym-rat and had the body to match, but while his commitment was certainly admirable, he wasn’t your type. Rhokann, on the other hand, with his strongman physique and solid layer of fat to soften the strength that lay beneath… unfff… It was hard to look at him for long without feeling your skin start to prickle with heat.
“Wait, you two know each other?” Luke asked you and you nodded.
“He came to my rescue at the fairground last weekend while you were showing that white rabbit the time of its life,” you grinned.
At that, Luke flushed. You weren’t the only one who liked Rhokann’s build, but the orc wasn’t looking at Luke’s incredibly toned arms, which were currently being deliberately shown off to amazing advantage by his tight, black t-shirt. No, Rhokann was looking at you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen in a year, and it was enough to make a cloud of butterflies erupt in your chest.
“Damn,” Luke hissed down at you, smirking. “You weren’t kidding about the ‘super hot orc guy’ thing.”
At that, your eyes went wide with horror and you smacked him in the chest with a wild flail of your hand. “I can’t believe Lily told you I said that, but you didn’t have to fucking repeat it!” you hissed around a strangled yelp. “In front of him,” you added through gritted teeth.
Rhokann chuckled quietly from a few feet away, and you turned quickly back to look at him. He raised one thick, black eyebrow and you rolled your eyes.
Turning to Luke in desperation as a mild panic seeped across your brain, you blurted, “Didn’t you say they were super busy at breakfast? Come on, we’d better go…”
And with that, you bolted from the garage without waiting for Luke to follow.
You weren’t proud, and you were sorely disappointed in yourself for chickening out, but in your defence, your friend had just embarrassed the hell out of you in front of your hero of the day. What if Rhokann just thought you were some human with a crush now?
Luke caught up with you, looking back over his shoulder at Rhokann for a second, and then trotted down the road at your side. “Hey, wait, I’m… I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“It’s ok,” you groaned. “I know how it feels when there’s a gorgeous guy standing there looking like… that… In your case, stupid stuff falls out of your mouth. In my case, I clam up.”
“Fair, but still,” Luke groused, holding the door of the cafe open for you and letting you step in ahead of him. “I’m sorry.”
The scent of coffee and sweet icing sugar wafted around you and you forgot your embarrassment for a bit, but the way you’d scuppered your chances haunted you for the rest of the morning at work.
By the time you got home, you were fractious and stimming and in need of some space to slough off the day on your own terms. When your phone chimed a little while later, you assumed it would be one of your friends, but it was an unknown number, and your heart skipped a beat.
‘Hey, it’s Rhokann. I hope this isn’t presumptuous of me. Your friend Luke gave me your number and said it was an apology, but he didn’t say what for. Anyway, if you’re not interested, just ignore this and block my number, but I’d love to see you again. Let me know if you’re up for that, and maybe we can figure something out soon. If not, I’m glad I met you all the same and I won’t contact you again.’
No one had ever said anything like that to you, and you stared at the text for a full five minutes.
The first person you texted though was Luke to yell at him affectionately in all caps. He called you back, and you accepted the call with a little huff that made him laugh with quiet fondness. “I’m sorry, Titch,” he said. “But I fucked up, and I figured he’d been about to ask for your number before you bolted…”
“Yeah, but I would have had the chance to say no…” you said.
“True, and I’m sorry I interfered again,” he sighed, and then after barely a beat had passed, “So are you gonna meet up?”
You rolled your eyes and flopped down onto the sofa. “I haven’t texted back. But probably.”
“Yes! He’s stunning. You saw those caps on his tusks though, right? He’s old school… He’s probably gonna go all-out to impress you…”
“So long as he doesn’t literally hunt and catch dinner for me, I don’t mind. Lily told me about orc courtship, and I am not interested in a whole fucking elk on my doorstep or something…”
“Nah, but he might challenge the chef to a death match for the honour of feeding you…”
“Oh please don’t even joke about it,” you groaned, and Luke did laugh, long and loud. “I’m hanging up now, you bastard.”
“Love you too, Titch,” he said, and hung up for you.
It took a while to figure out how to reply to Rhokann, but eventually you came up with something that you hoped didn’t sound super desperate and strange. ‘Sorry I bailed earlier like that. Luke has no shame, I swear, but I’ve told him off for going behind my back and we’re friends again now. You free this Friday evening?’
Before you could chicken out, you sent the message and sat back on the sofa, wringing your hands quietly in your lap and breathing steadily.
His reply came five minutes later. ‘If it helps, he was really awkward about broaching the topic with me when he came to collect his car. And yes I am free this Friday. What were you thinking?’
‘All on me then?’
‘I have suggestions but I wondered what you wanted. Cocktails at ‘IceCube and Henbane’? Catching that new movie they’re advertising all over town? Dinner somewhere? A walk along the river and takeaway from one of the food trucks? Any combination of those?’
Realising he was probably letting you decide on something that wouldn’t be as overstimulating as the funfair had been, you decided to keep being playful first. ‘You know henbane is poisonous to humans?’
‘They serve human-safe cocktails too, and non-alcoholic ones too that are just as good. Steer well clear of the naga-specific menu though because that shit could clean out a drain. Or strip the rust off your buddy’s car.’
You barked a laugh that echoed off the walls of your apartment. ‘I’ll tell him you said that.’
‘Go ahead, I said as much to him already.’
His texts had a cocky kind of confidence that he’d not really exuded on the day you’d met him at the fair, but then you remembered how he’d drawn himself up to his full height to shield you from those artless onlookers and flexed his shoulders just a fraction to make them back off, and you figured the two sides of him could probably sit well on his bulky frame after all.
‘Oof, I bet his ego took a hit with that. Let’s do cocktails and then maybe walk them off along the river afterwards?’
‘Sounds perfect. Shall I meet you somewhere first or meet there?’
You looked the place up online, which you probably should have done first in case it was out of your price range, and hit the map on the website to see where it was. Having arranged to meet him there, you signed off for the night and tried to get your mind to stop spinning. Somehow, despite two missed chances, the universe had thrown you a gift and a third chance in the form of Luke’s meddling.
That Friday, dressed in what you hoped would be an appropriate outfit for a cocktail bar in a swankier part of the city, you headed out with your heart in your throat.
Rhokann was impossible to miss, standing under the soft, orange light of the lamp outside the cocktail bar, and wow did he look good in black dress pants and a white shirt. His twin silver tusk-caps caught the light, and you noted that this time he had his hair tied back off his face in twin braids that melted into a single rope that hung down his spine.
He spotted you and turned to watch you walk towards him, but he didn’t make any kind of move towards you until you came to a stop in front of him and looked up into his softly smiling face.
“Hi,” you said awkwardly.
“Hi. You look gorgeous,” he added, eyeing you up and down in a way that made his gaze feel like a physical presence against your skin, and it was all you could do to repress a shiver.
You swallowed thickly. “Likewise.”
“Shall we head in?”
“Lead the way,” you said, not really wanting to walk into the unfamiliar space first. Rhokann just nodded and pushed the door open, holding it for you to enter behind him before heading into the softly-lit, wood-panelled bar.
It had the cosy, secretive air of a speakeasy, and as you wove through the tables behind the server who had looked Rhokann up and down and licked her lips in a very unsubtle display of interest, you spotted someone playing an upright piano in a far corner. Rhokann thanked the server politely and let his eyes drift back to you a moment later, the woman apparently forgotten. Something warmed in your chest and you took your seat opposite him.
He was one of those people that had real presence, and it wasn’t just his size that conjured it around him like a tangible aura. There was something about him that made people look at him, but his eyes never left you. After two menus had been set down before you, he said, “Tonight’s on me, if that’s alright?”
“You’re sure?”
Rhokann inclined his head and you caught sight of an earring dangling from his right ear. It looked like a piece of jet shaped like a small fang, polished and set in silver and dangling by a single link to a ball stud in his earlobe. He had silver rings up the line of cartilage to the pointed tips of his ears, and in the lobe of his left he had a simple silver stud. At the artfully-open neck of his white shirt, you could see the hint of an orcish tattoo and a whisper of dark hair that made something thrum through you again.
In contrast to your habit of moving around, he seemed still and calm as a monolith, and you found yourself drawn to that; drawn to his steadiness in a way you’d never experienced with anyone. Over the course of the next two hours, the two of you also talked in a way you’d never found easy with anyone. He listened, and in a measured, easy, back and forth of conversational give and take, you got to know each other.
His family was wealthy and lived in the country for the most part, and yes, they were very traditional by modern orcish standards. “You might think I’m pretty formal when it comes to orcish ways,” he said, looking self-conscious for the first time all evening, “But you should see my parents and my two older brothers…” He took a deep draw of his smoky, whisky cocktail and blew out a breath. The tip of his tongue caressed his lower lip just a little as he savoured the lingering taste, and your eyes tracked the movement hungrily.
To distract yourself, you eyed his silver tusk-caps and said, “I was going to ask about…” and tapped the side of your mouth awkwardly, not sure if you should really be asking about his orcish jewellery and personal tastes so soon.
To your relief, Rhokann smiled and brought his finger and thumb up to the right hand tusk. He lifted the cap off and turned it over in his hand for a second before handing it to you to look at. The tusk beneath gleamed beautifully in the low light, and you had been correct in guessing that his tusks were tipped with wickedly sharp points beneath them.
In your fingers, the cap was practically the size of a tiny shot glass, and you could see the orcish patterns engraved into its surface all the way around. “It’s beautiful,” you said. “My friend Lily told me a bit about orcish culture, but she doesn’t really keep to traditions, so I don’t know all that much. Just the things she personally doesn’t like. Which, to be fair, seems like a lot when you get her started on a rant.”
He laughed and delicately took the silver cap back from you when you held it out to him. He slid it easily back into place and said, “You can ask me anything you like. I figured your friend didn’t like me much when she gave me the once-over at the fairground.”
“She’s protective of the people she cares for,” you said. “It’s the one orcish trait she hasn’t abandoned. That, and showing off her muscles for her girlfriend.” The heady atmosphere and the slight rush of adrenaline that was coursing through you from being so close to him at last was making you bold, and you spoke before you’d realised you might actually be insulting him, but Rhokann only laughed.
“Ahh, those traits are etched into our DNA,” he said. “You’re gonna have to go a long way to find an orc who isn’t protective, and who doesn’t like to show off just a little bit.”
You stared pointedly at his muscles beneath the white shirt and then looked him in the eye. “If you’ve got it, why not show it off a bit.”
“Only if it works…”
You cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t you tell?”
He leaned just a fraction closer and your heart skipped a beat or two as his big, brown eyes seemed to glow softly. “I’m getting some hints,” he purred. “You slipped through my fingers twice now,” he went on, bringing his hand up onto the table and laying it knuckle-down on the wooden surface between your empty glasses. “I’m not going to let a third time pass me by without a proper answer from you.”
“What’s the question?” you asked faintly.
He smiled. “Can I see you again after tonight?”
You nodded.
“You want to get out of here yet?”
Again, you nodded.
His smile returned, and you sat back in your seat while he hailed the server and paid for your drinks. He gave her a tip generous enough to make her blush, and then stood and looked down at you. “Ready?”
A third nod was all the answer you could muster, but he didn’t seem to think you rude.
He walked behind you this time as you led the way out, and when you stepped out into the balmy, end-of-summer evening, you heard him heave a huge sigh. Glancing back over your shoulder, you found him looking at you, and you flushed. “What?”
“I’m just glad I got the chance to see you again. I thought… I thought that was it when your friend bustled you away from me.”
“Why were you working there?” you asked bluntly. You wanted to know why he was working as a mechanic at a tiny garage on the edge of town too, if his family was so well-off, but you didn’t know him well enough to ask something so direct. “At the fair, I mean.”
He smiled. “I wanted to?” he shrugged. “I’ve always been the dutiful son — I went to a good university and got a respectable degree and got a sensible job, but I felt… choked.”
Rhokann sighed again and checked the street for traffic before gesturing with his hand for you to start crossing. You walked by his side as the pair of you headed towards the river, where a long, flat promenade stretched, and you listened to him talk. His beautiful, rumbling bass carried easily on the still evening, and it made you feel steady again amid the noise of the city behind you.
“I’m not on bad terms with my family or anything, but… after a close friend of mine passed last year, I decided that I was going to live my life on my terms, and not anyone else’s. My heritage is very important to me, but it’s not everything I am. My family doesn’t understand why I quit my career and got a summer job working at the fair of all places, or why I turned my love of cars and fixing things into a job as a mechanic.”
“If you’re happier now, that’s all that matters, right?” you said.
He grinned. “I’m happy tonight, that’s for sure.”
“You’re such a charmer.”
“If it works, right?” he chuckled. You got the impression there were depths to him that would slowly unravel to you over time, and you found yourself looking forward to it already.
“Yeah, it works,” you mumbled.
You walked along the embankment together for a while until his footsteps faltered and he asked, “Would you let me hold your hand?”
“Sure,” you smiled, hoping you didn't have sweaty palms.
His hands were rough and huge, but you made it work, and it was wonderful to have a physical connection with him after clicking over chat and drinks already.
In the lea of the oldest bridge that spanned the wide river, the two of you slowed and came to a natural halt to lean against the wall in easy silence, staring out at the water as it slid past in an inky, glittering ribbon.
Rhokann turned away from the view and the movement caught your attention, drawing your gaze up to his handsome face.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a hoarse murmur.
“Yes.”
Leaning down, Rhokann placed his palms on your jaw and angled your head gently upwards, but he didn’t kiss you right away. He bit his lower lip and although his eyes narrowed, you saw the way his pupils widened hungrily. “You’re stunning,” he exhaled. “I… I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”
“Stop talking about it then, and do it,” you teased.
His eyes flashed and he closed the distance between you, hunching over and pressing his mouth against yours. His tusks framed your mouth beautifully, the silver caps nudging into your cheeks a little as he kissed you senseless. You’d never been kissed like that. His hands left your face and wandered down to your waist, where he tightened his grip and picked you up, setting you down on the wide, stone wall that bordered the river. At that height, it was much easier for him to reach you, and he stepped closer, parting your knees to stand even nearer to you. You hooked your lower legs around his hips and let him kiss you over and over until your body felt like it was on fire.
Your fingers found the intricate plait of the braids on the side of his head and he moaned when you ran your fingertips over the pattern. “I want you,” he said. “Not tonight if you don’t want it, but I need you to know I want you. However you’d like…”
“I want you too,” you breathed back in the scant space between you, foreheads touching. It felt more intimate than any words you’d ever spoken, but it also felt true.
Your hands moved to grip his huge, rounded shoulders and you squeezed before running your palms across his pecs. His chest heaved and he sounded out of breath when he said, “My place isn’t far from here. You want to come back to mine?”
You nodded.
He lifted you down and took a moment with his eyes closed to breathe carefully. In the light of a nearby street lamp, you could see the impressive tent in his trousers, and you bit back a smile.
“Told you I want you,” he said when he caught you looking. “Come on.”
Flattered and a little intimidated, you walked with him back to his apartment. It wasn’t anything showy like a penthouse overlooking the city, but it was in a nice part of town, and it felt secure and homely as you followed him into the lift. In a small rush of bravery, you placed your hand at the small of his back and you felt as much as heard the groan of pleasure he let out in the small confines of the elevator. His skin radiated heat through the fabric, and you splayed your fingers, feeling the solid muscle and the slight softness there too that made you ache inside and out for him.
By the time you got to his front door, he was taking deliberately steady breaths, but the moment you were inside, he lost a little of that composure. “I’d offer you a drink, or —” You silenced him by reaching up and pressing your thumb along his lip before drawing him down to kiss you again. Part of you wanted him to take you right there in the hallway, but you had hoped for something a little more comfortable.
Rhokann undressed you carefully but insistently, and between the front door and his stylish, modern bedroom you left a trail of your clothes and his, until you were both in only your underwear by the time you were standing beside his massive bed.
Dark sheets stretched neatly across its huge expanse, and he let you push him down to sit on the edge of the mattress, gazing up at you with his hands resting at your hips, thumbs drawing idle lines across the fabric of your underwear. The evidence of his arousal was obvious, and a darker wet patch had started to seep into the material at the tip of his cock.
His body was soft but strong in the kind of way that you’d always adored. His paunch was evident, but his arms were like anchor cables, and while he might not have had the lean look of a social media gym-junkie, he could outlast any of them in a show of strength.
“I never thanked you,” you said, reaching around to the back of his head for the plait that you’d wanted to feel in your hands since the first time you’d seen him.
“For what?” he asked breathlessly. His pupils were huge and the light reflected in his warm eyes like a cat’s in the dark. Desire swept through you in a heady rush.
Slowly, taking your time about it, you straddled his lap and sank yourself down to grind your hips decadently against his, and when his hard cock moved against your body, he let out a long, broken moan.
You tightened your hold on his braid and the sound he made would stay with you forever. The deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest and his eyes rolled back behind fluttering eyelids. Beneath you, you felt his cock twitch.
“Please,” he gasped. His grip tightened on your hips and he shuddered like he was losing control of all his strength, fighting to keep from having his way with you. The jet earring dangling from his right ear glinted softly as it swayed like a tiny pendulum in the void between his earlobe and his shoulder.
“I never thanked you for taking such good care of me,” you said.
The orc responded exactly as you’d expected he would, and gave a throaty hum of pleasure.
“When I needed you, you protected me… got me out of there…”
You’d chosen your words very carefully, and Rhokann arched his spine, jutting his hips up and practically begging to fuck you without uttering a word.
You twisted his braid around your hand one more time and he tipped his head back, following the direction of the force you put on his head. The lick of red in his forelock looked perfect in the warm light of his bedroom, and you had been right about the orcish tattoos that covered his chest, right down to his hips. He also had the most delicious chest hair and the dark trail that ran down from his navel to the waistband of his tight boxer-briefs was gradually making you lose your mind.
“You were patient and understanding, and you didn’t mind that I didn’t have my words then,” you went on. “But I have them now, don’t I?”
“You do,” he choked. “You do. Please… Please…”
“Let me thank you properly then,” you said, and climbed carefully off his lap. You looked pointedly at his underwear and said, “Off.”
“Only if you do to,” he said, and you knew you’d met your counterpart in him.
He gave and took in equal measure, and as the two of you lost yourselves tangled in his sheets that night, you knew he was going to be the best thing that could have happened to you. The two of you moved in perfect synchrony, and you came apart within a heartbeat of each other. Rhokann made a mess of the sheets and you made more noise than you’d ever made coming in your life, and when the two of you lay back, sweaty and satiated at last, he wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss to your temple.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered.
“Thank the gods for third chances,” you smiled and he laughed quietly. “And meddling werewolves.”
“Indeed. Come here.” He tugged you against his body so that you were lying half-propped against him, with one arm draped over his soft middle, and you trailed your fingers up the centre of his chest. “You staying the night?”
You nodded, and hoped it would be the first of many.
__
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periprose · 9 months
Note
Okay I gotta request something JUST HEAR ME OUT
Black Cat!Reader trying to tell Tasm!Peter she's Black Cat while he tries to tell her that he's Spider-Man at the same time. Queue up Peter being baffled, while reader just doesn't believe him lol
Also I am loving Florence, it's so good and rich, I'm still only on chapter three but I want to kiss your Peter senseless- he's such a sweetheart🫶 Also I love youuu🥰
AHHH bby i love this idea and I love you!! (also thanks for the support on florence)
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/
Secrets are difficult to reveal.
They're especially terrible when you're telling something so tumultuous to your best friend, something that could either make him judge you severely or run away from you.
How do you confess that you're a thief? An villain turned anti-hero?
Even worse, Peter is someone you really love. Someone you know is too good for you- he would never feel the same way. But that's why you have Spider-Man, right?
You always knew it wasn't always going to be fun and games to be Black Cat. To be the very symbol of bad luck- it's a bad premonition.
You stare in the mirror. Peter will be here any second- he always climbs up the fire escape into your apartment's bedroom, and you told him you had something important to say.
There's a knock at your window, and you turn a little too abruptly.
Peter watches from the outside. He has a tentative smile, but he can see that you're worried, and you make the conscious effort to relax your face.
Peter himself is worried. He's about to confess something very important to someone very near and dear to him- he's Spider-Man, and not just that- he's having a sort-of affair with Black Cat.
He doesn't even know how it happened. First she was stealing wealth from banks, then a few months later she came with him with the notion to be good, and Peter always believes in someone redeeming themselves... but that doesn't mean she had to be so goddamn hot, all black leather and white fur, and Peter's just a horny dude who could not help but kiss back when she made a move on him yesterday.
And it was hot, it was good for him to take out some very human emotions by making out with her, but it wasn't everything. It wasn't you, and now he feels incredibly guilty. So he wants to come clean. Peter wants to let you know the whole truth, and even if that means you'll never like him again- Peter will never act on his unspoken feelings for you- he knows you deserve to know.
"Hey." You let Peter in, and he immediately walks in with an air of anxiety, hands already shaking as he paces around. "You good?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah." Peter shakes his head immediately. "No, not really. We need to talk."
"Oh." You give him a look as you sit on your bed. "You have something to say, too?"
Peter nods, and you think it can't be nearly as bad as what you're going to tell him.
"Okay. Let me go first- I've been hiding something from you." He starts, but you shake your head. "I haven't been around."
"I haven't been around, Peter." You tilt your head at him. "I... I haven't been telling you the truth."
"Just wait. I'm trying to tell you something important." Peter insists, wanting you to know the truth but you keep going.
"I'm a bad person, Peter." You murmur, and Peter stops, interest piqued. "I've been misusing our friendship- you wouldn't want to be friends if you knew my past."
"No. That's not true." Peter sits down next to you on your bed, feeling that he should comfort you before potentially breaking your heart. "I'll always be your friend. Tell me what's going on."
"Don't sound so sure." You grimace at him. "I... I'm Black Cat."
"Huh?"
"I know, it's so terrible. I stopped with all the stealing and killing, but... I'm still not sure if my so-called good deeds are enough to forgive me." You lean over your legs. "I don't... I work with Spider-Man every now and then, too."
"But-" Peter tries to interject, and you keep going anyways. He's incredibly baffled- it's not that you don't match the size of Black Cat, it's just that he's sure he would've recognized your mouth under her mask. He's fantasized about your lips long enough.
"He kissed me yesterday." You admit, and for some reason it feels like a slap in the face to say, even if you know that Peter doesn't actually like you like that. "And I've always liked you, Peter, so I just have to get this off my chest, because I feel so terrible. I'm sorry."
Peter is snickering.
"What?" You shove him. "I'm trying to tell you about my actual, serious pain, Peter, and you're just laughing-"
He loves this. He can actually be with you, no questions asked, and you have to be Black Cat- who else would know that Spider-Man kissed you? Peter feels a little bad that you're clearly agonized about it still, and he is laughing, but he can't help it.
"I was trying to tell you the same thing." Peter shrugs, as you hang onto his every word. "Okay, not the same thing. But that I'm Spider-Man."
You raise your eyebrows. "Really?"
"What do you mean, really? What's so shocking?" Peter asks, somewhat affronted, still finding it funny. "Do I not look like I have Spider-Man's build?"
"No, no. It just... feels a little too convenient." You give him a pitiful glance. "Maybe you could prove it?"
"Wow." Peter shakes his head, stifling a small smile. "Why would I lie?"
"No, Peter, it's not that you would lie. It's just... it's too obvious of a happy ending for me, and I-" You wince. "I don't normally have those."
"Oh." Peter knows about your past, your unhappy origin story, and he doesn't want to say anything to negate that truth.
So he simply thwips out a web towards your desk, planting your water bottle against the wall, and you don't look too surprised, although you do inhale.
"So that means- I was working with- and you-" You try to make a coherent sentence. "We... we kissed?"
"Tell me if this feels the same." Peter murmurs, half jokingly, mostly serious, and he pulls your face up in the same way you remember he did yesterday.
Knowing that you were the one in that leather black suit with the white trimming stirs something more inside him- yeah, he loves you and he's so glad to have you here now- but it makes yesterday even hotter in hindsight.
No mask this time. Nothing to get in the way of you dragging your fingers through Peter's hair as he presses his lips against yours, not hesitant at all. His lips are firm, plying against yours, and he inhales in a way that screams that he's wanted to do this for a while- even if he kissed you a few days ago, it wasn't like this- and it has you understanding he doesn't want to be gentle. He wants to finish what he started.
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no-luscinia-no-amore · 6 months
Text
ok time for mad gomens headcanons meta brain dump because I just watched episode 6 in its entirety for the second time since July (I was saving it for when I needed Big Feels I guess?)
And look, there's some fun parallel stuff going on: Crowley bopping around with angels while Aziraphale is dealing with demons, Crowley being the one to say the feelings words (mmph, kinda) when Aziraphale has been groping him all season, Aziraphale being the one who leaves after what it is a gross understatement to call a row. But these flippy floppies all keep leading me to not be as sad this watchthrough, partly because I've been soaking in metas on here for nearly 4 months! So here's what I got.
+ No nightingales! The nightingale singing doesn't just mean that they love each other. It represents when they are safe, after 1941 (headcanon!) and after the nopocalypse. Crowley is pointing out danger, that Heaven is listening. The nightingale sings for them when they've successfully dodged celestial and infernal meddling which puts their relationship at risk, with each other and with Earth, and the silence is pointed out because Crowley needs Aziraphale to really really understand that this is possibly irrecoverable danger, not that his heart is being broken.
+ By the time Aziraphale is saying dickish things like "you're the bad guys" and "second in command" the tone has shifted from Crowley being scared, irritated and shocked to something much weirder and harder to read
It's not just hurt, and he's not as hurt as he should be, and it's not because he's about to, mmmf, propose. He's processing. Aziraphale's begging him to understand something and is so obviously panicked. We all noticed his hands and his posture, you think Crowley who's been staring at him for 4523 years* just missed that this isn't Aziraphale being a featherbrain traumaball? Nothing lasts forever, and this precious peaceful fragile existence has, in fact, shattered. Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever you were right.
By the time Aziraphale says "I need you" with such raw fear and hunger, he's not yet sure Crowley was 1. picking up what he's putting down and 2. he's begging for help, begging for some sign or certainty that Crowley isn't saying "hey, rude, fuck you, I'm gonna storm out because this is a really unusual hurtful fight but I'll swing by in a couple days with some eclairs". He gets that certainty moments later in the form of...
+ BIG DAMN KISS
which says "I need you too" and "I'm scared this danger is too much and I'll never get to do this" and "oh fuck Angel be safe please" and "GODDAMNIT GODDAMNIT how do these bastards always wiggle in on EVERYTHING" and "I WAS RIGHT about being nervous"
and I absolutely do not believe that the alveolar sound after "I..." was just Michael Sheen failing to form a fricative**. Aziraphale received the message of "this is dangerous, this is public, and I don't care, I love you enough to kiss you goodbye (?) in front of God (and Muriel!) you bloody stupid brave Angel" and almost responds. But now they're both in the mode of communication like spies again, after 4 years of starting to communicate like...humans. Lovers? Now it's "you're the bad guys" (so the Metayuck won't let me stay here with you) or "In Heaven!!" (because this bookshop is compromised and now nowhere in Earth is safe) so not only would it absolutely not help*** if Aziraphale broke down and was like "DO IT AGAIN I LOVE YOU" it would break whatever weird undercurrent is going on in their communication. So he says the Heaven approved thing that's always in his vocal queue when he's feeling a bit emotional, and Crowley's "Don't Bother" just scans at this point like exhaustion, yes, but not grief. It's "well fuck, let's get on with the rest of this goddamn circus then."
+ I agree that Crowley looks disassociated and absolutely broken and exhausted by the time he puts his glasses on before kissin' time. He hadn't figured it all out yet and thought it was this stupid fucking argument again only way worse and Aziraphale is in stupid danger and their separation will probably be hundreds of years long****. He rushed back because it all completely clicked.
+ and then he waits, knowing Aziraphale is going bonkers, watching the Metafuck come back in, seeing Aziraphale see him through the window, crossing the street, at the elevator. He's not waiting to see if he changes his mind, he's watching his husband march away to war but can't even wave his handkerchief*****
+ and the Bentley, who let Aziraphale turn her yellow and was generally receptive to his desires, lets him play the song through her anyway, Aziraphale saying "This time Crowley, I have the plan. It'll be ok, we can be safe again. I love you."
*since Job
**try to accidentally replace all those Fs with Ls. You are at an advantage since you weren't just kissed by David Tennant, but Michael is at other advantages which I'll cede to him.
***help them get out of the Situation. It would definitely help them make out.
****or, he was with all of us emotionally and it felt for a second like it could be eeeeternityyyyy
***** Aziraphale is the handkerchief waver in the relationship anyway
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ssahotchnerr · 10 months
Note
Ok - Season11 Hotch in “the storm” 🤤😵‍💫 – where you are there with him and Jack when SWAT arrives and you spend the day with Jack, in Hotch’s office, with no updates and just worrying, but not obviously because you have to remain strong for Jack (you/Hotch son, Haley never existed 😊). Hotch is questioned and dragged through the mud and is emotionally exhausted by the end of it. At the end of the day, you finally see him walking through the BAU doors and jump on him in excitement (queue make-out sesh in the battle cage), Jack comes running up shortly after. The team just watches, joyfully. Happy to see Hotchner happy and reunited with his family.
You guys go home and enjoy a nice night as a family. Dinner, with a discussion about the mixup today, and a movie on the couch etc.
You guys get Jack off to bed, and continue some NSFW stuff on the couch. Just happy to have your man back home, all to yourself.
after the storm
🥺 this <333 i got a bit carried away and made it a bit angsty so i hope you don't mind cw; angst, brief suggestiveness (sub!aaron?🤭), references to 11x22, jack's younger in this and isn't pissed like in the episode LOL
the longest day.
you're sat on the couch in aaron's office, jack's fast asleep. his head is on your lap and you're running your fingers gently through his hair, still internalizing the day.
one second you were starting breakfast, the next the door is being knocked down.
instead of sending aaron off with a kiss as usual, he's being guided away in handcuffs.
the worried expressions of the team are still prominent in your mind, as you stood in the roundtable room as they updated you on the situation, the one update you've practically received all day. he's been framed, accused of horrific claims, and it looks bad.
and while you insisted they take you to wherever it was he was being held to knock some goddamn sense into somebody, insisting you could give his alibi or somehow prove he did not make that spoofed call - you've been with him all morning - you knew it was in your best interest to stay put. not only in terms of protocol or whatever they needed to do, but for jack.
and so the two of you have spent the day in aaron's office, finding ways to pass the time.
and besides, aaron was innocent. sooner or later, this nightmare would be over.
by now, they've told you aaron's been released. they've told you he was headed to the prison to help the others. but you refused to believe it until he was standing right in front of you, not until he's locked strictly in your arms.
the sigh exiting your mouth was halted by movement from your peripheral vision, your head whipping to your right. will has been sitting at jj's desk, waiting just as you've been, and jj had just walked through the doors, embracing him upon her arrival.
so that could only mean...
you're already on your feet (after very gently moving jack aside) as aaron walks through the double glassed doors, and everything blurs.
you don't recall exiting his office. you don't recall stepping down those few short steps. just suddenly, your face is being pressed into his shoulder as your arms find home around his middle, breathing in the scent you only knew as aaron. your grip on him only tightens as it all sinks into you further - it's him. he's right here.
likewise he's pressing you firmly against himself, his hands roaming up and down your back soothingly. "hey-"
you pull back and your lips are on his, not letting a single word out of him. you're kissing him vigorously and desperately, as if he's about to disappear from you once more. your fingers find purchase on his suit jacket, gripping onto the coarse fabric and not only is it grounding you, but him.
if you've had a hard day, you can only imagine what aaron's gone through. that only alights you to kiss him deeper, as his day must've been filled with people questioning him, belittling him in terms of who he is, despite everything he's sacrificed and done for the bureau. it flames a fire in you, and you just want more than anything to relieve the tension in his shoulders.
aaron's kissing you back just as hard, no concern for who may be watching present. he does hold himself back from some regard, if the two of you were alone in your bedroom, he'd let you have your way with him, if your current dominance is anything to go from. and he's confident that'll be in order once jack is tucked into bed later.
and in fairness, everyone's watching, but they don't dare interrupt the reunion. the two of you haven't seen each other for roughly fourteen hours, but it feels like a year has gone by. it's been a heavy, complicated day, so a heartfelt moment is more than appropriate. and again, after everything aaron has gone through the past years, they've always been glad he's found someone like you.
finally you pull away to breathe, lips swollen and a bit hazy, placing both your hands on aaron's flushed cheeks as you come back to earth.
"are you okay?" you search his face, your expression changing into one of worry and tears threatening your eyes.
aaron nods, covering both your hands with his and kissing you once more, "i'm okay."
you aren't convinced, but jack comes running down the stairs before you can do or say anything else, throwing himself into his aaron's arms. he clings onto his dad for dear life, his small arms going around aaron's neck.
you quickly join their embrace, your face burrowing into the crook of aaron's neck. peace finally fills you; you're with your boys, aaron's been cleared, the nightmare is finally over.
as if aaron can read your mind, supporting jack with one arm and his free hand finds yours, a sigh escapes him, accompanying the small glint in his eyes. "let's go home. please."
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muddyorbsblr · 1 year
Text
summoned pt1
See my full list of works here!
Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous
Summary: After what could probably be the worst birthday of your life, a mysterious shadowy figure appears in your bedroom while you were sleeping.
Pairing: Incubus!Loki x Reader
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: language; A+ parenting that would impress Odin; inaccurate summoning rituals; Loki feeling you up in your sleep [let me know if I missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: Loki's a sex demon, not a god in this one
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Worst. Birthday. Ever.
You walked through your apartment grumbling those exact words as you finally toed off your cinching pumps and padded your feet over to the kitchen counter, placing the little cupcake you'd gotten for yourself as a pitiful excuse of a 'celebration' for today. A joke, really, considering what a colossal shit show the day had turned out to be.
First the printer had jammed, keeping you waiting in queue for over three hours just to complete the solitary task that was in your workload for today that kept you from ending your day earlier and hopefully finding a way to actually celebrate despite your entire family being too busy to even call for a simple "Happy Birthday, Y/N" greeting over FaceTime. Something about them all going out to celebrate your sister getting cast as an understudy to a secondary character in her school play.
And then to add salt to the wound, not even HR could bother to have invited you to the free lunch they arranged for this month's celebrants. They told you that it must have slipped their minds when they were orienting you.
"It didn't even cross your minds to double check when your total number of celebrants for the year didn't match your total number of employees?" you asked them, trying to keep your composure because, after all, you still needed this job to pay your goddamn bills.
"Honestly, Miss Y/L/N, we just thought that the system glitched. It was just off by one. We didn't think anything of it."
A glitch. That was what you were to this company. Hell, to your family as well. Barely even a blip on the radar. Just something they remember actually existed when everything else managed to go wrong in their lives.
Now here you were, sitting in your little one bedroom apartment in New York, alone and lonely on your 29th birthday, wondering how you could have lived your life so invisibly that nobody even noticed you'd somehow slipped so far between the cracks that you were collecting dust in a corner of the room that nobody could see, let alone reach. How could you have gone your entire life and you didn't even have someone to call when you wanted company?
How could you have been so alone that nobody would even think of you if they wanted company?
You decided there was no harm in making a wish for yourself as you searched for a lighter for the tiny candle to cap off the dismal start to the final year of your 20s. You took out a piece of paper and scribbled your wish, tears prickling in the back of your eyes as you penned the words.
Someone that makes me feel less alone.
You lit up the candle and held the paper to the flame, a tear escaping your eye as you whispered the words, "This is all I want." You watched as the tiny sheet became engulfed in flames, disappearing into ash floating around the air so quickly that your fingers didn't even have enough time to feel the fire licking across your skin.
"Happy Birthday, Y/N," you sighed, blowing out the candle. "Another banner year," you whispered sarcastically into the dark silence.
You went about the rest of your night in the shroud of darkness, making the split second decision to change into a black silk negligee that you'd been reserving to wear for when you finally had someone to spend the night with rather than just spend a fleeting half hour with before you ended up leaving their apartment because you just couldn't feel a connection.
Perhaps the time had come to accept that you weren't meant to have that type of connection. With anyone.
With that depressing thought taking over, you laid down in bed and allowed sleep to take you, letting your thoughts drift into nothingness as you focused on the dark and the quiet that surrounded you. The same dark and quiet that always surrounded you.
What you heard next might as well have shot ice straight through your veins. "Well…hello. Aren't you a pretty thing."
It's just a nightmare, you told yourself. Just squint your eyes really hard and you'll wake up.
You tried to squeeze your eyes as hard as you could, but you could still feel that you weren't quite alone, the faint touch of a hand ghosting over your body on top of your comforter, the husked voice humming in a sound that vaguely resembled satisfaction. "How fortunate of me to have been called to such an exquisite creature." You stilled as you felt a warm breath by your cheek, followed by the feel of a tongue tracing along the shell of your ear. "We're going to have such fun together."
When you felt the hand slide under your comforter, warm fingertips beginning to trace along the column of your neck, was when you finally found it in you to move. Perhaps if you couldn't squint your way awake, then you'd just have to jolt your body into waking by any means necessary.
The only thing was…you were awake. And in the darkness you could see the silhouette of a man with long hair hovering over you. You let out a scream so loud you were sure the roving guard in your building was about to break down your door for fear that you were getting slaughtered in your bedroom.
The shrill sound was enough to have the figure seem visibly taken aback that it gave you just enough leeway to push him off of you and propel yourself out of bed. "You have ten seconds to tell me who you are before I…I…" You fumbled around in your bedside drawer, not once taking your eyes off of the intruder's distractingly sculpted silhouette, and grasped the letter opener you kept inside. "Before I slash at you with this. Ten!"
"I have no need to explain myself. You summoned me."
"Keep telling yourself that, buddy. Nine!"
"Do you truly not recall summoning me, you beguiling little creature?"
"Creature??" you shrilled. "Alright that's it, you just knocked five seconds out. Four!"
"Alright wait, wait! If you truly do not recall then perhaps we can discuss this? Preferably without meager weapons," he said, holding his hands up in a show of surrender. You proceeded to shout Three, making him let out a sibilant exhale. "If you won't listen to reason, then perhaps I must make you listen."
In the next moment, the figure disappeared, thin wisps of smoke being the only indicator that there was even anything that once occupied the space he stood in.
You started to let out another shrill scream into your now empty bedroom, only for the sound to die in a muffled squeak as the intruder re-materialized right beside you, clamping a large hand over your mouth…and nearly half your face.
"Shhh little mortal, please. I'm not here to harm you." You could feel yourself relaxing into his almost tender hold on you as he whispered the words into your ear, your reaction leaving you both shocked and appalled at yourself. "I swear, I am simply here because I was summoned. To perform a purpose. If what you say is true and you truly do not recall, then perhaps we could find out together why I've been brought here?"
Well shit, when he puts it that way, I must be a complete nimrod to keep screaming, huh? you hissed sarcastically at yourself. Considering that his hand was still covering your mouth, you simply nodded your response slowly, allowing him to take the letter opener from you with his free hand.
"If I release you, do you promise not to scream?" You let out a long exhale through your nose, slowly nodding your answer again, relief beginning to flood your system as he pulled his hand away from you and you began to walk to turn on the lights in your bedroom.
"Look I don't know who you are or what you are or what the fuck you're doing in my home, but I can promise you, on my life, I didn't summon you," you started, already emotionally exhausted from the disappointment of the day combined with this bizarre encounter from…wherever this intruder came from, with his tricks and smoke and mirrors. When you flipped the switch and your bedroom became awash with a warm white glow, you finally got a good look at your unexpected visitor.
But now I definitely wish I did, you thought to yourself. He was…for lack of a better, more fitting word, beautiful. A face that seemed as if it was sculpted and perfected by the greatest artists history had ever known, and that same scrupulous attention to detail had been given to the rest of him, too.
You never did understand back then what the women in your office meant when they described a man as someone that looked "built for sex". But now…looking at the man who stood mere feet away from you? Now you understood them perfectly.
"How about we start with why you believe I summoned you to begin with? And maybe names?" You struggled to maintain eye contact with him as he tilted his head at you, angling his body in a way that suggested he was about to approach you again. "I'm Y/N. And you are…?" You extended your hand to shake, a gesture that honestly seemed so ridiculous considering what had just happened moments ago, and where you two were.
"I am Loki. Of the Incubi," he replied, taking your hand in his. However, instead of shaking it like you'd expected, he raised it to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, the action taking you by surprise right alongside the information he'd just revealed to you with those few words.
"Incubi? Sex demons?" you huffed out incredulously as you began to break into a fit of laughter, pulling your hand away from him. "Now I'm definitely sure you got your wires crossed somewhere. See, Loki, there's no fucking way that I summoned a sex demon. We can start with…I don't even know how."
Your laughter faded into a little squeak as you felt his fingers lightly grasping your chin, tilting your head so that he could take a good look at you. You began to squirm under his gaze as the moments ticked by. "I believe you," he breathed out, the disappointment visible on his face. "A shame. How I would have enjoyed being pleasure-bound to one as breathtaking as you."
His words rung with such an unapologetic honesty that it had you fighting back the heat rising in your cheeks…and swirling in your lower stomach. The way he moved his hand to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your bottom lip, only worsened your already building desire for the man. No, not a man…demon. As if reminding yourself that he wasn't what he seemed was going to quell that fire; if anything, it might even make it worse, especially considering what kind of demon you were dealing with.
"Perhaps you unknowingly summoned me, then," he murmured, his face hovering so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath on your lips as he spoke. "Was there anything that you did tonight that was out of your regular routine? Perhaps that could lead us to…well, where we are now."
You moved out of his hold with an audible sigh. "Alright…well, I came home from work. It was my birthday, so I made a wish on the candle of my cupcake." You started walking out to the living room/dining area of your  apartment, half-heartedly waving toward the space as if to say 'this is where that happened'.
"Quite curious…" he trailed off, walking to the kitchen counter and running two fingers across the surface, placing wholly inappropriate thoughts in your mind about what kind of devastation those sinfully, egregiously long digits could possibly wreak on your body. "And how did you make this…wish?"
You started walking around your living room, trying to retrace your steps since you came home from work earlier, up until you also reached the kitchen counter, trying not to focus too much on the feel of his hand now resting on your lower back, fingers loosely curved around your waist as if he was ready to pull you towards him at a moment's notice.
"I wrote it…on a piece of paper," you muttered, placing your hands on the countertop, willing your memory from a few short hours ago to return to you. "I said 'This is all I want', and then I burned it on the flame before I blew the candle out."
It barely registered to you that he'd moved so that he was standing directly behind you as you were recalling the events before you went to sleep, his hands now resting on either side of your waist, holding you loosely against him. "Hmm…there it is, then. Your wish that you set aflame, that is what summoned me." You fought against your instinctive urge to lean in to his touch and shudder at the way he was whispering in your ear, lips hovering so close that you could feel them ghosting over your skin as he spoke. "Tell me, darling, what did you wish for?"
A shuddering breath escaped you as you felt him move, tracing his nose down the column of your neck, ghosting his lips along the curve between your neck and shoulder, all the while whispering against your skin his soft-spoken command to tell you what you'd wished for that resulted in him being summoned to your home.
"I wished for someone that would make me feel less alone," you sighed your admission, your words barely audible as you fought against your urge to tear up again.
You felt Loki tense against you, maneuvering you so that you would turn and face him, a mix of confusion and concern rife on his devastatingly beautiful features. "I must admit, I'd never been summoned by a wish so…vestal." He reached up and proceeded to push locks of your hair away from your face, tucking the strands behind your ear. "Usually when I am summoned the wish is more…carnal in nature."
"Because sex demon…" you muttered, smirks tugging at the corners of your mouths.
"Indeed," he answered you, a low chuckle escaping him as he tucked his fingers under your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Your accidental summoning of me does not change the fact that I am now bound to you, darling mortal. I cannot leave you be until I've fulfilled your needs." A shiver ran through you at his words, worsening when he leaned down, hovering his face mere inches away from yours as his hand traveled down the length of your arm wrapping his fingers around your own hand. "Come with me then."
You chose not to move as he began to lead you through your apartment, standing still and causing him to look back at you when he was met with resistance at your joined hands. "Come with you where, exactly?"
"Back to your bedroom, of course."
"I thought I made it clear that--"
"We're not to go there so that I may bed you, darling," he cut you off with a knowing smirk. "Unless, of course, that would satisfy your needs. In which case I would be more than happy to oblige."
You felt your walls clenching around nothing at his suggestion, tempted beyond reason to take him up on his offer even though you knew that while there was no doubt that sex with someone literally made for it would be mind-blowing, the last thing you needed was another meaningless romp in bed. "Then why exactly are you bringing me back to my bedroom?"
"Your wish," he began, relaxing his hold on you and walking back to stand mere inches from you. "It was for companionship, was it not?" You nodded mutely, a squeak escaping you as you felt his hand at your side, his thumb gently stroking along your ribcage. "From what I've observed with your kind, to sleep alone when one yearns for companionship may be one of the most cripplingly lonely feelings you can experience. I was simply intending to hold you."
His words left you staring at him blankly, struggling to process his words. "Honestly I just thought you were gonna skulk around in the corner while I lived my life because that would be like zero effort for you, and it would still make me feel 'less alone'," you tried to joke, biting your tongue when you saw that he'd only responded by furrowing his brows at you.
"You are far too beautiful to be this guarded," he murmured, leaning closer to you that you could feel his warm breath at the bridge of your nose. "You deserve to have someone to hold you. You shouldn't have had to feel this lonely to begin with." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "I apologize. It seems that I was all that the fates could give you."
The gesture took you off guard, the tears that you'd been fighting back since you got home from work finally escaping your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. You wrapped your fingers around his hand, squeezing lightly in a silent gesture that you were letting him lead you back to your bedroom. You couldn't form the words anymore.
When he had you settled in your bed once again, only this time gently cradled in his arms, a large hand stroking up and down your back as he began to lull you to sleep. "Sleep, beautiful little mortal. You need not be alone any longer," he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Not if I can help it."
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"I really don't understand why you would be upset over this, Y/N. You should be thankful for the sentiment behind it, not the timing. What's important is that we remembered eventually, isn't it?"
You rolled your eyes at your mother's condescending tone over the phone. You'd spent the entire drive back to your apartment from work listening to her justify herself for at least remembering to greet you happy birthday.
Only thing was that it had been an entire six months later. And now she was trying to guilt you into warmly accepting her half-hearted greeting of 'oh I completely forgot, Happy Birthday, sweetie', as if it held any merit now. "Honestly Audrey, how can you even forget your own daughter's birthday for six months? I mean if I were in your shoes I'd remember the anniversary of the days that an entire baby threatened to rip my vagina in half."
"Language, young lady! And how dare you call me by my own name, I am your mother! And you know that we were caught up in celebrating your sister's accomplishment with her school play. Becoming an understudy is a big deal you know."
"I haven't been a young lady for ages, and you haven't been my mother for just as long," you snapped back at her. "And even she was able to text me six fucking months ago apologizing on your behalf and greeting me herself. And how the fuck should I know how big of a deal it is to become an understudy I was too busy becoming the lead when I was still going to school. Last I checked you weren't even in the audience when that happened."
"You really should stop this nasty habit of making everything about you, dear."
You let out a frustrated scream in the hall, the sound prompting your apartment door to open, the sight of Loki stepping out the door clad in his version of "casual clothing" calming you significantly. 'What's wrong?' he mouthed at you, nodding in clear understanding when your only response to him was 'Mother'.
"Do you even fucking hear yourself?? You call me with a half-assed apology for forgetting your daughter's birthday sixmonths ago, and you expect me to just accept it with open arms going 'Of course Mommy I'm so happy you remembered it's the thought that counts'? And now that I'm calling you out on your A+ parenting at least where Stella's concerned since you just love coddling her and celebrating everything with her down to her fucking participation certificates, you're gonna have the balls to tell me that I should stop making this about me??"
The feel of Loki's hands on your shoulders, thumbs resting snugly between your shoulder blades, pressing and rubbing soothing circles in an attempt to mediate your temper, had you taking a deep breath before you went on.
"Audrey I don't want to hear from you ever again. Facts are…you haven't checked in on me since before I moved out of the house. You've pretty much mailed me everything that I left behind there so that you could tear down the wall and give Stella a fucking princess suite, so there isn't even a single trace of me in any square inch of that place she can freely call home.
"You haven't been a mother to me since Stella was born, let alone a mom, so you know what? We might as well cut ties now before I start saying shit that's really gonna hurt your precious fragile ego. Goodbye. Don't ever contact me again. I'm blocking your number, and if you even dare fucking show up on my doorstep I'll call the fucking cops on you. Have the life you deserve."
You felt the phone get taken out of your hand before he turned you around to pull you into a warm embrace. "Are you alright?"
"That felt really fucking good," you mumbled into his chest, starting to let out a hearty laugh as you wrapped your arms around him to return the hug. You lifted your head to look up at him, a smile stretching across your face as your eyes met his. "Hi."
"Hello, precious girl." A small traitorous giggle escaped you as he pressed a kiss between your brows. "Welcome home."
Your heart was doing somersaults at his words, your mind struggling to process them as he easily lifted you off  your feet and walked you both into your apartment. Home. The word rolled so effortlessly off his tongue it placed the cruelest image in your head.
One where maybe Loki could stay in your life forever. One where maybe in the last six months of him providing you companionship, you weren't alone in your stupidity in falling in love with the sex demon.
That maybe said demon fell in love with you, too. And the blissful domestic atmosphere that surrounded you whenever you walked into your apartment wasn't just an illusion.
"I have a question," you spoke into the dark quiet of your bedroom when he held you that night, lulling you to sleep. You looked up from your head's position resting snugly on his shoulder, your breath audibly hitching as you saw how menacingly beautiful he looked when his features were illuminated by the moonlight and nothing else.
"Ask away, darling." You could feel your eyes growing heavy as he proceeded to stroke your hair, earning you a low chuckle from him.
"You don't sleep…"
"That is true, I don't."
"So what do you do while I'm asleep?" You brought out another chuckle from him as you fought back a yawn after asking your question.
"Count the hours until the sun rises and your infernal alarm begins to blare in our ears and pulls you out of your peaceful slumber. In those hours, I read something from your shelves occasionally. But mostly I would watch over you, wonder what it is you're dreaming about that brings out such raw reactions upon your face."
"Fuck you must be bored out your mind, I'm sorry," you murmured, feeling yourself sink deeper and deeper into sleep.
Your brows furrowed together at the feel of his  fingers lightly grasping your chin. "Look at me, Sweetheart." Your eyes met his through your heavy-lidded gaze, a lazy smile tugging at the sides of your mouth as you looked into his darkened gaze. "That couldn't be farther from the truth. You could never bore me."
A violent fluttering erupted in your stomach as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, a mix between a sigh and a satisfied hum escaping him as he kissed you.
"Never," he insisted before pressing one final kiss to your lips. "Now go to sleep, darling."
"Mmph…thank you, Loki."
"What ever for?"
"For making me feel less alone."
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Those last words you uttered before sleep finally took you echoed in Loki's ears like ominous drums that signaled a death march. Each time the words came back, the sound would grow louder, beginning to thump against his chest as if his heart was rushing to give out.
He'd forgotten that it could even do that.
For so long it had taken on this slow, almost snaillike pace that he could have sworn it stopped beating eons ago. It was only that first night, as he held you in his arms, that he could begin to feel the echoes of a pulse once more.
Now those echoes were more than prominent, each thump inside of him signaling that now that you said those words, his time with you was about to come to a screeching halt.
He dreaded how it would  happen. Would he simply be summoned to another's bed, simply to resume the process of meaningless trysts with sleeping women that craved nothing more than to be fucked into a stupor that more often than not led to permanent and unfavorable side effects on their part?
Would he be called back to Lilith's domain? To face an admonishment for taking so long on this particular assignment when he could have ended your plight so much more quickly and efficiently?
Would he even be able to say goodbye to you? Could he even bear it to see the look on your face if he did?
"Take it back," he pleaded softly at your sleeping form, desperation lacing every word. "Please. I don't want to leave you, Y/N. Take it back." He held you tighter against him, pressing kiss after kiss to your skin as he kept on begging you take the words back. "I can't bear to leave you, sweet girl. I love you too much for that."
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A/N: Okay so I took quite a few liberties with the request but I hope you like it, Anon! There's going to be a part 2 to this because I want to give them a happy (and smutty) ending.
'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017
Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @cheekyscamp @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration
594 notes · View notes
you know, i can't wait to see season of mists in the show, yes to watch certain pieces fall into place for later story and for one particular dream hob conversation
but also because it really is in so many ways just the funniest volume
and i've seen some of those funny moments get mentioned
i've yet to see anyone list dream's defeat of azazel among them
but like. let's lay this out. so dream already has about 500 problems to deal with, at least 300 of which are queueing up in the dreaming telling him to give them the keys to hell or they're gonna [insert threat here], when all he wants to do is rescue nada and maybe also sulk in his bedroom for a bit
when problem #501 shows up - azazel would like hell back so they can make it even worse, and they've brought nada as a bargaining chip to ensure it. they also throw in choronzon for free, because everyone else has been offering gifts, and dream likes revenge, right? yeah, revenge, that'll definitely get him to like us
azazel mostly behaves themselves during the actual negotiations (mostly), bc they're sure they've won, and no need to cause a scene and make more enemies than they have to. but when they realise that's not the case, they threaten to eat nada if dream can't get them what they want
to which, in a move that made me realise exactly why dream gets along so much better with fey than he does humans, he reminds azazel that everyone who crosses the threshold of his realm is entitled to his hospitality, including nada (thanks for bringing her here for me btw, saves me the trip), so if azazel harms her in any way they'll no longer be entitled to dream's protection
and azazel is like fuck you fuck your hospitality i can eat anyone i goddamn like
so we get that challenge between the two of them taking place inside azazel who is kind of a realm in their own right, which, when dream wins, azazel tries to pull a lucifer "why should i let you leave?"
and yes. dream is currently in azazel's void. azazel could try to eat him from in there, regardless of who won. but see, lucifer had one thing azazel doesn't, which is remembering whose fucking house you're in
azazel's entire realm, entire self, is still inside the dreaming. regardless of where dream's physical manifestation is, demons have no power here.
you really shouldn't have denied my hospitality.
and since dramatic irony is the order of the day, dream's then just like "so, what was it you were promising, again? nada and some, uh, sweet sweet vengeance? yeeeaaaah i think i remember you saying something about that. hey azazel? what are your opinions on glass spheres."
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and then he turns to the vast assortment of gods and similar he's been trying to get rid of for two days and is like "any arguments? no? cool, get the fuck out of my house."
631 notes · View notes
claires-mind1 · 11 months
Text
All Yours
Jake Sully x fem!omatikaya!reader
notes: i don't even know how to properly use this app and I'm not a good writer I'm still learning. so expect grammatical errors and typos. i literally cannot do this i think about him every single second of the day.
neytiri doesn't exist here I'M SORRY i love her sm and i feel so bad but fr tho girl don't know what to do with all that Imao. sorry girl but you HAVE to share. and this is purely just smut so there's no specific background of the characters.
summary: In which Jake reminds you that he only belongs to you.
warnings: alcohol consumption, jealous reader, reader almost beating up some bitch, lack of using y/n cuz that shit turns me off, extremely soft!dom jake, shy reader, reader is drunk, sexual confessions, this is so filthy, oral fem!receiving, face-sitting, squirting, overstimulation, reader cries from pleasure, LOTS of fluff, praise kink, jake finds reader so adorable, extreme size kink, possessive behaviour but it's fluffy, they're just so in love, established relationship.
“If i ever hear you talking about my husband like that again, I'll cut this damn braid off that you're not gon' be able to think about any man ever in that dumb little brain of yours.”
Jake's eyes widen as everyone gasps. it hasn't even been five minutes since you left him with his warriors, saying you were gonna get drinks. he didn't even wanna come to this stupid party in the first place, but seeing you so excited for your friend's birthday and the fact that he can't let you be drunk out here all alone was enough reason for him to get along.
there you were, with your left hand tightly tugged around a girl's queue and your other hand pressing her wrists together on her back. you softly slam her head on the tree as you speak. the people can't do anything but watch since they all knew about your deep hatred for the girl for flirting with jake every chance she gets from the beginning.
normally you wouldn't care since this happens everyday. almost all of the pandora girls had their eyes on him since he arrived, even the mated ones. and you can't really blame them because you've been drooling over him too. but since you knew your feelings were reciprocated, the rest is history.
you, on the other hand, is no different. boys literally fight everyday to get a chance to court you. but then you and jake mated and no man ever dared to touch toruk macto's mate since jake always makes sure the whole clan knows that you're taken, that you belong to him. and now you guess it's your time to express that the olo'eyktan too, is yours and yours alone.
your eyes slightly red under the influence of alcohol as your thoughts go back to how she giggled talking about all the intimate positions she wants jake to put her in. well what she didn't know was that you and your mate had tried each and every single one of them already.
your ears perks up at your mate's voice calling your name and you turn to see jake walking fast towards you. he pulls you from the girl and checks your body for any bruises. your gaze softening as you look at his worried state but quickly turns into a frown when he apologizes to everyone for you and put his hand around your waist, proceeding to walk you home. but you don't say anything because of your lack of energy and the effect of alcohol making your knees weak as you hiss softly.
“are you okay, baby?” jake asks you now that you both are away from the crowd. your knees only getting weaker at his voice almost losing your balance. that goddamn pet name. and the way he says it so casually. his arm tightened around your waist as his other hand comes up to hold your tiny one at his side helping your body up. you feel hot at his touch and barely processed his question.
he hums looking at you who's completely looking down, too flustered to look at him, the pandora ground suddenly being interesting. no matter how much intimate you two have been, you can't help but be shy in these moments. eyes looking at his hand that's holding your tiny one. both of your hands would easily fit in his one palm. looking at those slender fingers reminds you of those nights when he showed you what they were able to do, what places they were able to reach.
your small steps suddenly stops as you remembered his question, “no.” you whisper just enough for him to hear, as you squeeze his hand. you take a deep breath and look up at him, and jake swears, he's never seen such an ethereal being as you and he still couldn't believe that you were his. he patiently waits as you try to speak but kept getting lost in his gaze.
“carry me.” you don't know what got into you as you say your words loud enough for him to hear, suddenly feeling the need to be closer to him. he doesn't hesitate as he proceed to pick you up in bridal style but you stop him and stand in front of him with his hands still around your waist. he gasps when you suddenly jump wrapping your legs around his waist. his hands immediately tighten around your hips to hold you up, afraid you might fall. “like this.” you say near his ear as his breath hitches feeling your own.
“but we're in public sweetheart,”
“and? we're not doing anything?”
you press yourself harder against him and bury your face into his neck. he starts walking and you can't help but notice how strong he is, again, carrying you like you weigh as a feather. you wonder how he felt when he saw your jealous state moments ago. did he find you hot and wanted to kiss you right there just like you did whenever he showed his possessive side? or did he just think that you're an insecure annoying bitch?
him on the other hand though, he sure as hell went with the first one. and he's gonna make sure you know that.
“you do know that I'm all yours right?” and he even dared to press a quick kiss on your shoulder after saying that, like a fucking cherry on top. you almost let a moan out as you unintentionally pressed the specific part of your body between your legs against his pelvic bone, your thighs slightly shaking at the friction. and that alone was enough for jake to know what was up.
he smiles as he gives more kisses on your shoulder and you whine when he starts pressing your body to his. his ears twitching when dick hardening moans of his name fell off your soft lips. “shh, we're here baby,” he walks past the entrance of the tent that you both share. he sits down on the mat and attempts to lift you off his lap before you straddle his thighs again. “no! stay.”
you swipe your thumb against his lips before eagerly kissing him. he returns the same energy, you both only stopping to take breaths. “gotta clean you up baby, aren't you tired?” he asks and you can only shake your head as you're too busy biting and kissing his neck, you smile when you feel his cock right under you. you're sure that your loincloth is soaked as you grind on him.
he feels like he might accidently fuck your brains out right here from the way you're grinding your cunt on his very much hardened dick. he can literally feel how wet you are from the way your slick's transferring through your loincloth to his own. and the way you're marking his body up isn't helping either. especially when he knows why you're doing it all considering usually, he's the one who does it. but he held back, letting you do whatever you want to him.
but when he notices you getting rougher with your ministrations, “are you in heat baby?” he jokes. and you stop momentarily to look him straight in the eyes, making sure to let him see your lust filled ones. “I'm always in heat for you jake,” little smooch to his lips before continuing, “just want you.” you pant against his lips as if you just ran a thousand miles. “want you so bad.” and you're back on his lips. and god it's turning you on even more that he's just under you, taking all that you give.
“you have me, sweet girl.” he says before pressing his lips to yours harshly. and that made you pull away looking at him taking deep breaths. you want him to know how fucking deep he got you in love with him. so you start, “Jake...”
“yeah?” he responds, all ready to hear you out, so ready to take whatever you're willing to give him. your grip on his shoulder tightens at the simple yeah, it's almost embarrassing that he knows the effect he has on you. must he really do this to you? for fuck's sake, you're willing to give him all of you, your heart, your mind, body and soul. hell, you would even die for him without thinking twice if it comes to any certain circumstances.
“you know, you are so beautiful, so so, so—” you emphasize each word, making sure he hears what you're saying. you can barely hear yourself as you struggle to speak. you feel like you're dreaming, and you wish to live in this dream forever. he encourages you, drawing tiny circles on your thigh with his thumb.
you cup his face in your hands and he leans into your touch. he smiles as he watches you adoringly tracing your fingers through each of his freckles. you fight the sudden urge to bite his lips until he bleeds into your mouth when you runs your thumb on his under lip, not that he'd mind.
“I love you, i love you. so, so much. it's too much sometimes I can barely feel myself, you're everywhere, I feel you everywhere, it's overwhelming.” your eyes are completely set on his lips and you know he's watching you, observing your every movement.
you throw yourself even closer to him, pressing your body impossibly hard to his own. “I want you close, always. I just want you to never leave me. I want you to hold me like this forever. I just—” your hands travel down to his chest, to his broad shoulders and to his thick and veiny arms, before coming down to his hands that are placed securely on your hips, thumbs grazing the dip of your waist.
you take one of his hands into your own, bringing it up between the two of your bodies. you wrap your small fingers to his pinky, admiring the difference before you place the large hand above your left breast, right where your heart beats for him.
Jake feels like he's the one who's drunk, he's never seen you this vulnerable before. it's not that he doesn't know about your feelings for him, you're literally the love of his life. your mind is connected to his own. even without making the bond, he can tell how you're feeling just by taking one look at your face. you're like an open book for him, so easy to read.
now looking at his hand, you took a deep breath before continuing, “when you're away and I'm home early, and I'm feeling—” you almost choke on your words and his smile only widen. you're so adorable, “needy? for me?” he coos. you nod shyly, “ye—yes, for you.” you stutter.
he hums, urging you to go on, and you do. “I try to do it like you do.” your voice now coming out slow and quiet. he always found your shy demeanour amusing, “do what? touch yourself?” he teases you even more when he sees that you started grinding down on his thigh, a movement so insignificant that only a person who's watching you as intense as jake can notice.
“hm-mhm, and it doesn't feel good, actually, it's nothing compared to what your fingers can do!” you whine, small fingers tightening their hold on his hand to show him what you mean, “and even if it does, I don't like it. I only want you to do it.” and jake curses internally.
“well it's a good thing you have me then.” with that, his hand slowly crawls out of your tiny palms to make their way between your legs. and your mind slowly goes insane as your arousal takes over your body. his hand disappears inside your loincloth before placing his thumb right on your clit directly, your body stiffening when he does so.
“it's all yours baby, I'm all yours. every part of my body belongs to you.”
“all mine?”
“yes, all yours.”
“all mine?” again. say it again.
“yes, baby. all yours. my fingers, my thighs, my mouth, my tongue, my heart and my cock. it's all yours, doll. I'm all yours.”
not a single sign of hesitation in his voice as he referred to all parts of his body that he let you use and own. he would repeat it all a million times and more if you wanted him to.
you thought you would last at least ten minutes before he makes you snap. “undress me.” you order before smacking your lips to his own. he was taken a back by your sudden demand but obliged nonetheless.
when you're fully naked, you try to lift yourself off of him so that you can submit to him and show him that you belong to him too. excitement rushing through your veins as you can't wait for him to dick you down like you're his personal whore.(you are).
that, was until he gently placed you back down on his lap. “I can't, I'm too tired.” he doesn't reply and instead, he lays himself down before moving you further up. what? and before you knew it, he somehow manhandled you into sitting on his stomach. what's happening? you thought he wanted you to ride him? but the next words that flew from his mouth made your jaw wide open.
“sit on my face.” he didn't have to say it. cocky bastard, you're so damn sure that he just wanted to get a reaction out of you. he can literally make your body move however he wants. he could've just sat you down on his face if he so desperately wants it, but no. he just had to say it, with such a seductive voice that it made your body filled with need.
the mere sound of him saying it was enough to make blood rush into your cheeks. it was just so lewd and tainted, both of your palms come up to cover your face while jake chuckles at the sight. you can lie and say that you don't wanna do it, but your body is already giving in. he can feel your wetness literally dripping down on his abs.
“I can't. I'll crush you.” your voice so small and fragile, full of uncertainty, and it only fuels him to prove you wrong.
“I'd like to see you try.” he says with a smug face. the act wasn't unfamiliar to you, Jake has eaten you out plenty of times before. it's just the position. you don't know how'd he even come up with that, you can only guess it's some sort of sky people stuff.
“c'mon baby, up. want you on my tongue baby, please.” there he is, he knows you'll eventually give in. he knows you'd do anything he asks and now, he's asking—no, more like begging to pleasure you? fuck, one must be fucking mentally insane to not want jake sully's face between their thighs.
you find yourself fantasizing about it even though your mate is literally waiting under you to make your fantasy come true. you both haven't been giving that much time into foreplay lately, though jake always insists on getting you ready for his cock with his fingers stretching you out. so eager to just feel each other, considering you both being busy with your duties all day.
but when you do it though, you both get so into it, especially jake. he makes it feel like it was the actual sex. you would beg for his cock and eventually give up, knowing he wouldn't stop until he's fully satisfied. so many nights, he's fingered you to sleep, keeping them inside your warm walls for the whole night, you'd wake up so guilty that you passed out on him without having him inside you. but he would quickly get you out of your thoughts, curling his calloused fingers inside you, still soaked with your cum, “morning, princess.”
but you can't blame him, you're just too beautiful. it arouses him, to watch you fall apart for him from the simplest touches. going down on you has always been one of his most favourite activities to do. sometimes he feels like he doesn't even need to fuck you. he could easily get off just from eating you out without touching himself.
he loves it. the way you'd desperately grab his hair and rut onto his face as he does everything in his power to get you off the edge. pushing his face into you as deep as he can, your slippery entrance swallowing his tongue inside, nose putting just the right amount of pressure onto your clit. these are moments where he gets the privilege of drowning in you. he can see you, hear you, smell you, taste you.
while you were distracted, he's already moved you up to his face, legs spreading on either side of his head, it's only when you feel him kissing your sticky clit, that you notice everything. your hips moves away almost immediately, it feels so lewd. but you can't go far of course, with the way his hands are gripping your hips, keeping you in place.
and Jake being the best mate he is, realized he's going too fast. so he takes his sweet time teasing you, trailing sloppy kisses closer to your core. his nips and licks at your arousal that are dripping down your thighs. “shh it's okay, i promise.” his eyes drinking up the way you pussy glistens and clenches around nothing as he smirks against your inner thighs. he knows you'll be begging to get his tongue inside you within minutes.
when he feels you getting relaxed, “that's my girl.” that was all he said before he hungrily nudges his nose against your swollen bud, taking a deep sniff of your arousal. his eyes are tightly shut when he smells your sweet scent. he takes the pink muscle out of his mouth before tracing the length of your cunt with it.
he starts to roll your hips on his face causing deep moans to come out from the both of you. the way he eats you is so, slow and sensual, as if you're the most expensive dish in the world. he takes his time with you, and it makes you feel even more frustrated. he rocks you against his face, tongue eagerly lapping up the essence coming out of you. “taste so sweet.” Jake mumbles, pressing a long kiss to your clit earning a loud breathy moan out of you.
his grip on your hips loosens from time to time willing to let you take control. he needs to keep his hands on you to not touch himself, it was supposed to be about you and he's making sure it stays that way. eyes tightly shut as he tries his best to ignore the ache between his own legs and he's not gonna lie, his cock is now so sensitive that he's sure the slightest touch against it would instantly make him cum, you just taste that good for him. but he ignores it, his full concentration only on you as his brows furrowed, focusing on your release.
but you can't. the moment you realize he's not guiding you anymore, you're lost. you're completely lost, your hips losing rhythm as your built-up orgasm is rudely interrupted by no other but you. you know he just wanted to let you know that you have complete control over him, that you can ride and use his face however you want.
it's not the same doing it all on your own. usually, you wouldn't even know anything, mind blank as you just lay on your back, letting him do all the work because you knew he'd take care of you. and he does. but now that you are the one who's doing it, it doesn't feel the same. it doesn't feel good.
so you just can't help but writhe above him not knowing what to do, your dripping cunt hovering above him now, ready to get up. your lover figures you just needed a break so he slowly hums against you leaving trailing kisses on your thighs. you can't even talk because of how frustrated you are, so you use your actions instead.
with shaky hands, you slowly catches his hands that are threatening to crawl away and place them back on your hips, right where they belong. “please...” was all you could mutter before he realised what you wanted. he raised his head enough to reach your pussy and pressed a soft kiss on your clit. he smiles against you, god she's gonna be the death of me. your actions arouse him even more, letting him know that you want him to make you feel good, you want him to do it however he wants and you'll take it without a single complaint.
“I love you.” he mumbles into your pussy, before slowly sinking you down back on his face. you jolt as he kisses your cunt slowly as if he's trying to savour every moment. and the truth is, he is, he doesn't want this to end ever. he knows you wouldn't have agreed to do this if you were sober, too shy. but god he wishes you were drunk all the time so that he can be smothered between your thighs, eating his favourite meal all the fucking time.
he kisses your labia the same exact way he kisses your lips, pulling at it before exploring your folds with his tongue. the wet sounds of him kissing your clit and muttering things to it makes your head spin. “so pretty,” smooch “so good...” smooch “doing so good for me.” followed by his loud moans sending electricity right through your cunt.
when your moans get louder, he uses the tip of his tongue to tease your hole pushing it in slightly before pulling it out, leaving your cunt to clench around nothing. he feels you move above him trying to get his tongue inside you. he chuckles as he looks up at you to see his favourite sight. eyes tightly shut as you grind down on his mouth using the guidance of his hands.
and that's when he suddenly stops. your eyes cracked open, immediately looking down to see if he's hurt. “I-I'm sorry, are you hurt?” your folds hovering his face once again. and you were met with an unreadable expression of your mate before he pushes your knees up, putting you into a squatting position above his face. no way. “keep your eyes on me. I need you to look at me while i pleasure you yeah?”
and with that, he sticked his tongue out and quite literally slammed you down on his face causing the pink wet muscle to slide inside your hole, earning a loud moan from you at the sudden penetration of his tongue. you unconsciously try to pull away, the pleasure being too much for you. but he only pulls you back down making a wet slapping sound.
you obeyed his command and kept your eyes on his that are looking straight at you, half of his face buried under the weight of your cunt. he bounces you on his face and twirls his tongue inside you. at this point you don't even care anymore because it felt unbelievably good. your legs were spread wide for his face to settle in between, it fits so well. jake thinks this is right where he belongs and he wishes to stay like this forever.
you moan his name as he moves you up and down, smearing your arousal that keeps oozing out of you on his face. he sticks his tongue as deep as he could before pressing his face into you, nose nudging against your bud. he works two jobs between fucking you with tongue and sucking the life out of you from your clit.
it doesn't take you long before you are trembling above him, chanting his name like a prayer. you would've lost your balance long ago if it wasn't for his strong hold around your thighs. he focuses on your clit, flicking the sensitive button with the tip of his tongue before taking it into his mouth to suck.
he presses his tongue flat against your sore pussy before he shakes his head side to side, the movement being hard and fast to give you that pleasurable vibrating friction. soon, he feels you lose it, hands coming to his hair to pull at it, hard. hips desperately trying to move away from his unresting mouth, indicating him that you're about to reach your high.
final and the loudest scream of his name fall from your lips before you completely and utterly lose it. you're sure the whole world of pandora heard you, but you both couldn't give a fuck less about that. in fact, jake's proud of it. he feels your cunt dripping into his mouth and he pulls away just for a millisecond.
“yes baby. such a good girl, gushin' into my mouth oh—” he cuts himself off, lapping up the mixture of your slick and his spit that streams out of you. your lover moans into you, dipping his tongue into you once again, to get more of your sticky liquid. his hand coming up to rest on your stomach, thumb lazily drawing circles on your slick coated clit. he knows you're sensitive but he wants more.
he still tries though, fucking into you slow with his tongue, helping you through your orgasm, hands patting your thighs for comfort. you wait for him to stop so you can get off, but he doesn't. his hold on you only getting tighter as he spreads your thighs even wider. his chin comfortably tucked between your ass cheeks from how deep he's pushing his face into your cunt.
he keeps you plugged full with his tongue, letting you ride it as if it were his fat cock, causing your slick to drip down his tongue directly into his mouth as he gulp the sweet essence down his throat.
you feel like you might die, you thought it was gonna be like a one time thing. you hear him hiss for a moment before he's tugging your legs to his arms. hands holding the underside of your thighs, and then he lifts you off of the bed. you can barely feel your toes touching the mat, your whole body weight on him as he finally reaches his goal by making you actually sit on his face.
your ass resting on his chin as he impatiently buries his face into your warm cave. you want to squirm away and just stop everything because never once in your years of living, did you ever think about actually sitting on someone's face, specifically jake sully's. but you knew better than to move, too afraid that you might hurt him. and even if you tried, he would just yank you back down to where he wants, anyway.
even though you are on top, you don't have much control over this. well, he tried to let you, but you both knew that you've always preferred his way of doing things. tears are starting to form in your eyes from the overstimulation, but you love it.
you love the way his face fits between your legs just right, mouth pressed to your pussy like a human on pandora with an oxygen mask. you would laugh if you weren't just as desperate, with the way he's acting like he might die if he stops, groaning loudly when you try to push his face away, even if just for a second.
you look down to see if he's comfortable but when you did, he's not even looking at you anymore. eyes tightly shut in concentration as he drinks up your slick. it's almost like he's enjoying this more than you are. he rocks you hard against his face, using every muscle to stimulate your core to death.
even though you're a little concerned, this was no surprise to you. Jake has always been wild when it comes to sex. you'd known that since the first memorable night you two had shared. he never even let you spend your heats alone. and for that reason, you rarely touched yourself but mostly because you never felt the need to. he always kept you full and satisfied, even had his little inside joke that he's gonna need his wheelchair back, not for him, but for you.
my jake's so mesmerising, you think. it was a sight, seeing such a pretty face coated and smeared with your arousal. it boosts your ego, seeing a powerful man that so many people bow down to, between your thighs with you sitting on his face, worshipping you like a goddess, so desperate to pleasure you.
and just like that, he coaxes three more orgasms out of you in just a tiny amount of time that it's almost embarrassing.
your throat is sore just like your little clit that's still in jake's mouth. you're sure that he must be hurting too, he didn't even do anything or let you do anything to get him off. he just lets himself suffer and you don't know how on earth is he able to be still so collected, acting like he doesn't have a very angry dick to calm.
even though you can barely open your eyes, tears streaming down your face, thin coat of sweat covering your skin, panting like a dog with your tongue rolled out, you love what's happening, though you'd never say it out loud.
before you know it, two thick slender fingers are plunging into you, making you scream. “c-can't 'nymore! too much. too much!” you can't even form proper words because of the tongue, that is now relentlessly working on your sensitive and overstimulated clit. the way he's fingering you isn't what he normally goes for, it's hard and rough, almost like he's chasing for something.
he watches your hole welcomingly sucking his digits in. “I know, i know. just give me one more baby, just one more then we'll be done.” Jake once again gets you to obey. you feel so small above him as you chant, Jake. Jake!
“Jake! something's coming! I—” he hopes it's what he thinks it is. “shh, let it go baby, I'm right here. I'm gonna take care of you.” and you do just that. and it happens. he feels your whole body shake and your thighs pressing together above his face before he splitting them open again, not wanting to miss the sight he's been dying to see.
jake watches in awe as the clear liquid squirts out of you, pushing his fingers out from how powerful it was. eyes widening as you pour on his face and rolling down his neck and chest. some of it even getting into his mouth, letting him taste your immense amount of pleasure.
he traps your sore clit into the gap of his two fingers and he shakes it as the remaining juices sprays onto his face. and jake fucking whimpers into you as if he's the one who's being pleasured. "so good for me, fuck, yeah just like that. so sweet." your small body shaking and writhing above him was such a pleasing sight. and he's still shocked by the fact that it was all because of him.
he keeps you firm on his face, tongue slowly licking your sore pussy still, making sure you fully rode out your orgasm. he looks up at you just to see your pained expression, you're crying. what the fuck. he lifts you gently off his face, sitting you back down on his lap.
you let a whine out from the friction when the bulge from his crotch touches your sensitive button, which he backs off when he realises. he panics when he sees that you still haven't opened your eyes. “hey, hey! baby...” you smile like an idiot when you hear the familiar sweet like honey voice.
“look at me?” he pleads.
your eyes slowly open but you still keep your head down, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes after what you just did as you mumble a few sorrys' and sob through whatever you were saying, still too fucked up to process anything. but jake wasn't having it. so he starts “look at me,” grabbing your chin up to make eye contact. “you did so good, such a good girl for me. I'm so fucking proud of you. I love you baby, you were so fucking hot you know that?”
now, his voice is clear, you're sobering up, as if he'd just sucked all the alcohol out of your cunt. he reaches for the bowl full of water on the side of the bed and brings it near your lips, giving you no other choice but to drink.
your gaze finally lands on his face and Jake almost let a giggle out from how you completely dipped your head back down. well, how can you not when his face was completely soaked with your cum, your arousal dripping down his face like sweat. he spares you, rubbing your slick off his face with his forearm.
you're sobering up. god, what do i do? a million thoughts runs into your head, eywa please. the way he's looking at you as if you're the only woman to exist in the whole universe, it's not fair, please stop. you beg.
shoving your thoughts away, you lean in. your eyes trailing down to his body, landing on his loincloth, fully soaked with his- wow did he just? you catch a glint of shyness on his face. you tug at his bottom, seeing that he's still rock hard. “no, I'm okay. you need to sleep.” so what? that was it?
“I don't wanna sleep.” you glare, continuing to untie the string on his loincloth.
“princess, you don't have to.” he insists. bringing your hands back in front of his face before pressing kisses on each knuckle. he scoops you up as if you're some doll and lays you down. you don't wanna lie, of course you're tired. but you at least need to feel him, so you try. you pull him by the neck so that he falls on top of you.
“you said you're all mine...” you pout and jake's eyes soften.
“I came just from eating your sweet cunt baby,” you slam your eyes shut from his words. god why? he's so shameless with it too.
“completely untouched.” it makes your stomach filled with guilt as much as it fills you with butterflies.
he buries his face into your neck, which had become his comfort place on your body. you notice that he does it often, whenever he's tired, upset or frustrated. he heavily breathes into your skin as if he's holding back, you know he is. his cock is still hard and you are still wet. you need to feel him, feel his body, feel his soul.
so instead of talking, you quickly tug your longest and the thickest braid before grabbing his own. bringing the ends together, you catch how messy his nerves are moving, revealing the state of his mind. they immediately recognise yours as they rush to tug at each other.
jake's eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of you in his head. he can never resist you, not when he can feel you, not when he can feel the way you yearn for him, the way you beg for him, the way your mind is filled with nothing but him. you didn't give him a chance to prepare, your being taking over his head, he needs a moment.
“inside, want you inside.” before giving him a chance to deny your desire, your hands quickly work to untie the strings on his loincloth while he's was still processing all your thoughts in your head through the bond. it's all too much for him, it always is. whenever you both make tsaheylu, the mere need you feel for him amazes him, makes him wonder just how someone could love him this much.
with his head still buried in the crook of your neck, he feels your fingers wrap around his girth, earning a whimper from him. “you said this is mine too...” you softly say with a frown. “yes fuck yes, it is baby.” you align his length with your entrance, “then please.”
who the fuck is he to deny?
wow now THAT was something 😋
tell me if y'all want a part 2
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ladymercury8 · 2 years
Text
1986: A Love Odyssey | Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: You work at the local cinema in Hawkins, and Steve is starstruck when he first sees you. [1.8k]
Warnings: 16+ for light steaminess, cursing, no spoilers, fluff.
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The first time Steve Harrington saw you, he had come to watch Top Gun with Robin.
He entered the cinema as per usual, striding across the red velvet carpet towards the snack stand with Robin in tow. They were bickering about who was more attractive, Meg Ryan or Rebecca De Mornay, and how unfair it was that Tom Cruise got to kiss both of them.
But as soon as Steve looked up to place his order, his hand already reaching for the wallet in his back pocket mechanically, he was dumbfounded. He blanked at the conversation he was having, jaw slightly gaping open, staring at your face across the counter. Your rosy cheeks. Your soft hair, despite the tangles. Your necklace, resting against your collarbones. Your endless eyes.
He was so in awe that he didn’t register the confused furrow of your brows, the small smile on your lips, the light giggle as you repeated, “Hello? Are you OK? Can I get you anything?”
It took Robin’s sharp elbow hitting him in the ribcage for him to fall back down to Earth. He grabbed his side, muttering, “what was that for?”
Robin simply nudged her head towards you, then behind her at the developing queue.
Yet, once again, Steve was like a fish out of water when he looked at you.
“He’s trying to think of a pick-up line, so while he’s contemplating, which, I can assure you, is certainly a strain for him, could I get a bucket of popcorn and a Coke?” Robin said.
While Steve grumbled a “shut up,” under his breath, you just smiled at Robin, nodding, your face bright. You then looked expectantly at Steve, slightly shy.
“Ditto.”
You pushed your hair behind your ear, reading out the price, rushing to grab their orders as Steve placed the money on the counter.
“Enjoy the movie,” you beamed, and Steve would have swore his heart stopped. As you reached to give them back their change, Steve grabbed your wrist across the counter.
“No need. Keep it, doll face.”
As the pair headed towards their screening, Robin stared at Steve, bemused. “What was that?”
“What was what?” he feigned.
“Mr. Steve Harrington, flirter supreme, wooer of all women, was just left speechless,” Robin guffawed.
“She’s different,” was all he replied, suddenly slapping himself on the forehead, “shit, I forgot to ask her name.”
“Y/N,” Robin smirked. When Steve turned, confused, she added, “it said so on her name tag. You're not the only one who thinks she's cute.”
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The second time Steve saw you, he was with Dustin, Lucas and Mike. They were watching Stand by Me, rated R for some reason, which thus required a guardian. Dustin had effortlessly persuaded Steve to join them.
Steve had gone to the movie house several times since your first encounter, hoping to spot you again. But you were never seen, either because you were working 'behind the scenes,' or because it was your day off.
This time, he was ready. The three boys stood behind him as he approached you, hand combing his hair back, signature smile plastered on his lips. His confidence was only boosted when he saw the knowing look in your eyes: recognition. You had remembered him.
“Hi there,” you said, “how can I help you?”
“Look, about last time, I-”, Steve was stuttering, he had to look down, “I came prepared, today, I-I made this whole speech weeks ago, even practiced in front of my goddamn mirror, I just, whenever I look at you I-”
Glancing up, he saw your eyes searching his.
“'Is that canon fire, or is it my heart pounding?'” You whispered. Steve looked incredulous. “Ingrid Bergman. Casablanca. Here,” you ripped a piece of paper from a discarded receipt beside you, scribbling your house phone number. “Give me a call sometime.”
“Can you pinch me? You’re just so damn cute, I swear I’m dreaming,” he leaned his elbow against the counter, your eyes locking together as you giggled.
“What’s your name, dream-boy?”
“Steve. Steve Harrington.”
“Nice to meet you, Steve.”
“Y/N, right?” he gestured towards you name tag. You nodded. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”
The two of you could have stayed like that for eternity, had it not been for the boys nagging, “Steve, hurry up, the movie’s gonna start!”
As you took their orders, grabbing their snacks, you wished them a pleasant film, smiling at Steve.
Walking away, Steve was starstruck. The boys were teasing him, but he was simply starstruck.
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The third, fourth, fifth and sixth times Steve saw you, he didn’t care what film he was going to see.
For weeks, the pair of you had been talking on the phone into the early hours of the morning. Steve felt like he could listen to your rambling forever. You mostly prattled on about films, and even though Steve often had no clue what you were talking about, he just nodded along, “yeah, definitely, I totally agree.”
He cherished every word you spoke, the way you pronounced each letter, your cadences and rhythms.
He particularly adored making you laugh. “I look a little like Tom Cruise, don’t I? It’s the hair. Listen, listen. ‘Just take those old records off the shelf. I sit and listen to them by myself.’”
The bubbling joy slipping out of your lips, a smile audible in your voice. Sheer happiness.
And you were new to Hawkins. You had no prejudices or preconceived notions. You listened to Steve attentively, about his absent parents, about his failures in romance. You formed your own image of this amazing young man, uninfluenced by any rumours about what he was like in high school. “Steve, who even cares what you were like then, when this is who you are now!”
Every time Steve came to the cinema, you both exchanged a few flirtatious remarks across the counter. He watched your every movement, your every gesture. The nervous tapping of your foot. The timid way you pushed your hair back. The way you hid your hands behind your face when you grew embarrassed.
He didn’t care about what he was watching. After entering the auditorium, the only thing he looked forward to was strolling out of it, towards the exit, and waving you a small goodbye. For at those moments, no matter what rude customer you were serving, you smiled at him, practically bouncing with joy.
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The seventh time Steve saw you, it was upon your invitation.
During his previous visit, halfway through the trailers, while munching on his popcorn Steve nearly choked on a piece of paper. Removing it with his fingers and straining to see what it was, he saw a note: “Meet me here. Tonight. 10PM. Don’t be late.”
He knew it was you, recognised your handwriting even. He was so anxious, willing the time to pass quicker.
At 10PM, he arrived. There was a late-night horror film screening that had just started. Entering through the glass doors, hair meticulously arranged and prepared (it had taken hours, but god bless Farah Fawcett), he saw you on the other end of the hall.
“Hey, beautiful,” he waved, walking towards you slowly.
But you weren’t in the mood for slow. You ran up to him, enveloping him in a warm hug as he swayed you back and forth.
“You smell good,” you laughed, pulling away.
“You look good. Great, actually, you’re gonna slay us all dead,” he remarked, as a crimson blush adorned your cheeks.
“Shut up and follow me,” you turned, about to walk off, but then extended your palm backwards, “and could you hold this for me?”
He chuckled, intertwining your fingers with his as you gently pulled him along.
“Where are we going? A hidden cave?” Steve questioned, examining his surroundings, the endless, dark hallways of the cinema.
“It’s a secret,” you whispered, “and be quiet, nobody’s supposed to know you’re here.”
“Don’t worry. I’m stealthy, like a ninja,” Steve joked quietly.
You promptly opened a barely noticeable door, moving out of the way so Steve could see. “Ta da! Fuck, no, wait, now!”
Whatever Steve was expecting, this wasn’t it. It was a screening room - the size of a broom closet. You were providing the single light source through the flashlight in your hand. The room could only fit a film projector on a flimsy table, a chair alongside the projector, and a cabinet. Strewn all around the room were rolls of film, and movie posters: Singin’ in the Rain, On the Waterfront, Halloween, Double Indemnity, Citizen Kane, Psycho… there was not a single empty space on the wall.
“We screen our films here,” you explained, “tonight is Poltergeist. I already set it up, it’s running, but I thought you might want to see.”
You had wrung your hands together, your gaze falling to the ground, and Steve noticed a minor timidness.
“Can I go in?” his eyes were scanning the room. You handed him the flashlight.
“Of course, of course, sit down. Sorry, it’s not luxurious… or big. But this is the projector. You can see the film through the little hole in the wall, or the eyehole on the camera.”
Steve glanced at the darkened auditorium, the audience underneath him, the film playing on the screen. He heard the collective screams and gasps at each scare.
As Steve sat down, you shut the door behind you, awkwardly standing next to him.
That is, before he turned off the flashlight. Before he gently placed his hands on your hips. You held his shoulder for balance as he pushed down, signaling for you to sit on his lap, straddling him, facing each other.
“Have you seen Poltergeist?” you asked, feeling blindly for his face. You traced and followed his features with your fingers: his defined jaw, rubbing the light stubble; his hairline, as you scratched the nape of his neck; the outline of his lips, slightly open.
Steve never replied. As you caressed his face, he wrapped his arms around your waist. Instinctively, you both leaned in, searching for each other’s lips. His found yours first, placing a kiss on the side corner of your mouth, then melting into your lips.
Your chest was flush with his, your eyes closed, your eyelashes tickling his face. You cupped his jaw, pulling him even closer.
Lips already swollen, gasping, you reluctantly pulled away from him. Steve held you, his lips traveling ravishingly down your neck, to your collarbone, nibbling lightly, leaving a mark.
“You know what Clark Gable said?” You gasped out, chest heaving as Steve’s hands played with the hemline of your shirt.
Steve merely groaned against your skin, his teeth refusing to leave the silkiness.
“He told Vivien Leigh,” you could barely speak steadily, “’You need kissing badly. That’s what’s wrong with you. You should be kissed often, and by someone who knows how.’”
“Smart man,” Steve quickly pulled away to pull his own shirt off his head, the heat of the room due to its confinement, the operating projector and both of your arousal, leaving him sweaty. “Smarter than that Sherlock Homes dude.”
You rubbed your palms up the hairs on his warm chest, resting a hand against his heart, the other reaching his face. “That’s you, Steve Harrington. And I’m gonna kiss the hell out of you. I’m the Clark to your Vivien.”
“I’m not complaining.”
❃❃❃❃❃
Thank you for reading! x
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yuitoru · 6 months
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Hello! if that's okay I could order some hdcns for cozmez + gklck (but if there are many then only cozmez + kenta and ryoga) where his fem reader is a ray of light who works hard to prepare adorable cupcakes to give to the fans as a token of gratitude for going to support them, It makes me laugh to imagine mc at the end of the show like "thanks youu , come back soon *greetings greetings* :D " jeje XD
that's all hehe I'm glad to see a new blog that write for paralive welcomeeee ^-^
a/n: hii!! yess i already love paralive so much i look forward to the new eps every week kjfirj also i js wanted to say that im not that familiar with the characters not yet introduced in the anime, so ill try my best for ken and ryo from their wiki pagesss imsosorry :((
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ʚ ₊˚✧ ⠀⠀⠀ CUTEST CUPCAKE !!
incl : k.yatonokami , n.yatonokami , k.mikoshiba , r.tosa
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₊˚✧ KANATA YATONOKAMI
kanata was a silent lover, especially when it came to talking about how much he actually appreciated everything you did for him. but, that didnt mean that he had no shame about your relationship - he just preferred to keep his affection behind doors
so, when you decided to prepare cupcakes to bring along to cozmez's concert for fans, kanata didnt protest in the slightest, but also didnt comment on it at all. however, internally, his stomach was doing flips and his heart was pounding - how could you be so cute??
at the concert, you were stood at the exit queue, handing out the cute cupcakes you had prepared to the fans, a warm smile on your face. kanata watched how happy you looked, talking with each fan and genuinely being glad to be there, as he fell even more in love with you - your selfless nature warming his hardened heart
₊˚✧ NAYUTA YATONOKAMI
nayuta was more open with his affection for you; hugging, kissing, and always holding onto you, even in public. he always communicated how much he loved you, not caring if he came off as clingy or needy
when you baked the batches of cupcakes and brought them with you to one of cozmez's concert, nayuta swore that he felt his heart skip a beat. you just looked so goddamn adorable, holding containers full of delicious, decorated cupcakes and handing them to the grateful fans leaving the venue. it had been completely your idea, no input from anyone else - just the goodness of your heart
despite the vast amount of people, all nayuta could hear was your bubbly voice occasionally speaking to a fan or two - "thanks for coming today!", "hope to see you again!", "please, have a cupcake!". nayuta was smitten, but he didnt care - he just loved you so much
₊˚✧ KENTA MIKOSHIBA
kenta was slightly hesitant when you mentioned wanting to make cupcakes as a little thank you for his fans. it wasnt that he was embarrassed, not at all - he just didnt want you to be stressed about making the right amount, or about allergies or dietary concerns for the fans. in his opinion, they didnt deserve your kindness - only him!
but when you kept insisting on making them, with that adorable pout on your face, kenta just couldnt say no to you. he did his best to help you as you made batch by batch by batch of cupcakes, lifting things for you and grabbing ingredients from the convenience store
after the concert, kenta stood with you as you handed each fan a cupcake, trying to keep the scowl off of his face as he watched. they didnt even do anything, and they got a dessert made by you! he swore he wasnt jealous, but the way he clung to you afterwards clearly suggested otherwise...
₊˚✧ RYOGA TOSA
ryoga often struggled with speaking out, so whenever fans would approach him and thank him for the performance, he would freeze, often making the fan slightly uncomfortable and upset. he hated his inability to speak to others, but he just couldnt help it, as he often scared people away from how he looked
thats why you were practically his voice, speaking for him when he couldnt. the idea of baking cupcakes for fans was yours, but he followed along with it, as it meant that he wouldnt have to speak out. he was used to using violence instead of words, but this gesture meant that he wouldnt have to; a kind show of gratitude
at the end of the concert, he helped hand out the cupcakes, making it quite a comical sight. a big, scary, intimidating man handing out cutely decorated cupcakes to fans almost half his height. it made you laugh on the inside, but you knew that ryoga could be gentle when he wanted to, as he was always with you
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© yuitoru™ — dont copy, plagiarise, repost, modify and/or translate my works.
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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years
Text
Ride of a Lifetime
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Reader
Summary: A day at an amusement park with Maverick and Goose.
CW: pining; be warned: that's basically all this is 😅
The photo that inspired this fic:
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It’s not hot. In fact, it’s bordering on chilly. You zip your hoodie all the way up to your chin, watching as Goose and Maverick start hopping the queue rails to bypass the empty rows so they can get to you. Maverick jumps over several in quick succession while Goose loses his momentum after a few and stoops down, hands on his knees, to catch his breath. He peeks up at his friend, who does another three or four leaps before realising Goose isn’t right behind him.
Goose shakes his head, chuckling mildly, when Maverick glances over his shoulder to check on him. Goose holds up a hand. “I’m alright,” he calls. “Go on without me!”
Maverick cackles as Goose straightens his back and starts sprinting through the winding rows instead of hopping the rails.
“Race you!” Goose yells, speeding up.
Maverick grins at him and, shooting a determined look in your direction, starts vaulting the bars anew. You gaze at him with an amused expression as he arrives – first – at your side. He raises his arms in the air, turning to wave them at Goose, who is still jogging his way over.
“I win!” he exclaims.
“Technically, I win,” you say with a grimace.
He turns to you with pursed lips. “You had a head start,” he responds.
You raise your eyebrows. “Sounds like an excuse.”
He narrows his eyes. “I want a rematch.”
You give him a sympathetic smile. “You would.”
“What does that mean?” He scoffs in offense just as Goose finally reaches the two of you, wheezing heavily.
Maverick claps Goose on the back a few times. “You made it, bud,” he says.
Goose gives Maverick a look and Maverick bites his lip to keep from laughing. With a groan, Goose rolls back his shoulders and stares up at the ride at the end of the queue. “Uhh,” he says. “I’m not going on that.”
Maverick and you exchange looks and then Maverick starts laughing. You’re also giggling as you observe Goose’s terrified expression, wondering if he’s being serious.
“Goose, you’re a goddamn scope,” Maverick exclaims. “You fly fighter jets for a living!”
“Yeah,” Goose nods. “I trust you,” he says. Then he looks back up at the swinging pendulum that’s currently suspending fifty people upside down as they scream with glee – or terror. “I don’t trust that,” he finishes, pointing at the amusement park ride with his thumb.
“Don’t be silly, Goose,” you say. “This contraption is infinitely safer than Mav’s flying.”
“Hey!” Maverick shouts in outrage.
You shrug your shoulders, but Goose is shaking his head and backing away. “No, no,” he says. “I’m hungry anyway.”
“You’re not serious,” Maverick states incredulously as Goose starts to jog back through the rows.
“Dead serious,” Goose calls back. “I’ve got a wife and kid to think about!”
Maverick turns back to look at you with a bemused smile. “Sometimes, I really wonder about him,” he says.
You watch Goose over Maverick’s shoulder as he winks at you, giving you two thumbs up, and you close your eyes briefly, groaning inwardly.
As it turns out, Maverick’s insightful backseater had discovered that you harbor feelings for your mutual friend and, as any dedicated companion would, he has become an immediate benefactor of your as yet nonexistent relationship. You should’ve known his sudden disinterest in the ride was all an act. What’s worse, you fear that Maverick might see through the charade and, mulling over Goose’s sudden fear of heights, realize that he is simply trying to win you some alone time with his best friend.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared too,” Maverick says, eyeing you warily.
You realize you’ve been silent for a minute, evaluating the efficacy of Goose’s strategy. “Of course not,” you respond quickly, not meeting his gaze. You find it extremely nerve-wracking conversing with Maverick without Goose present. Goose tends to fill in the gaps effortlessly. You swallow, watching the ride swing from side to side, and stick your hands into your pockets, shivering slightly.
“Here,” Maverick says, shrugging off his bomber jacket. “Take this.”
“No, I’m fine!” You withdraw as he tries to drape it over your shoulders.
Maverick gives you an unconvinced look. “I can hear your teeth chattering.”
You stare at him. “You cannot.”
“Come on, I’m hot anyway,” he says.
You glance at his bare arms despite your best effort to keep your eyes squarely on his face. He is hot, you think to yourself with another silent groan. So hot it hurts. “You’re in a t-shirt, Mav,” you say. “I’m not stealing your jacket.”
Maverick steps closer to you and swings the jacket around your shoulders, defiantly meeting your gaze. “You’re not stealing it,” he says. “I’m offering it to you.”
You can’t deny how warm you feel the moment he wraps the jacket around you. You don’t bother sliding your arms through the sleeves, but he tugs on either side of the zipper, trapping the heat inside. His hands remain on the jacket as his eyes linger over yours. Your face starts to heat up under his gaze, what with the leather jacket shielding you from the breeze while your body suddenly becomes a furnace. “Thanks,” you say quietly, your eyes dropping to the empty space between the two of you. You notice that his biceps are flexed as though he’s tense. He lets out a sigh, releasing the jacket, and takes a step back.
“Anytime,” he responds.
You give him a tight smile, cursing yourself for being so painfully awkward. You remind yourself that Maverick is your friend – your colleague. You’ve spent the last few weeks training alongside him, listening to him ramble on at length about unsuccessful hops with the help of fighter plane models and Goose’s wiseacre commentary in the briefing room, and flying on his wing against the backdrop of the bright blue, California sky. You’ve even had the pleasure of defusing a particularly hostile dispute between him and Iceman in Goose’s absence. You’re pretty sure that, had you not been there, Maverick’s fist would have ended up in or around Iceman’s face. So why are you suddenly feeling so nervous today?
You decide that it’s Goose’s fault. Now that he knows – now that he’s on board – you’re feeling pressure to act on something you meant to keep hidden away. Something you meant to forget after Top Gun. After all, you’ll both be going back to your respective squadrons once your training in the Navy Fighter Weapons School is complete. Your paths to rarely – if ever – cross again.
You contemplate all this in silence as the line moves forward. The next thing you know, you and Maverick are up next, and your heart does a little flip of anticipation thinking about the ride you’re about to take.
“You ready?” Maverick asks.
You turn to look at him and smile. The ride is the one thing you’re not worried about. You nod.
He grins back at you as the gate opens, holding his arm out, gesturing for you to go first. You step out onto the platform, sliding your arms into Maverick’s jacket and zipping it up. It’s several sizes too big and when you glance over your shoulder at Maverick, he’s smirking at you.
“Do I look ridiculous?” You ask as the two of you shimmy between the seats to get to the back row of the pendulum.
“Not at all,” he responds. “You look good.”
You press your lips together in an attempt to conceal a smile. You get to the end of the row and lower yourself into the seat. The jacket bunches around you uncomfortably but you’re too cold to take it off. Plus, you’re kind of enjoying seeing Maverick in a slim-fitting t-shirt rather than his typical uniform. From your seated angle, you have a remarkable view of his abs as the dark material of his shirt ripples against his body in the wind.
To distract yourself, you try to lift your arms to lower the over-the-shoulder restraints, but the bulky jacket restricts your movement considerably and you can’t quite reach it. Maverick laughs at your feeble attempt to grasp the bar. He steps in front of you and lifts his arms to push down on the restraints. For a split second, his torso looms over you in all its glory and you nearly pass out because he’s so hot it hurts. He presses the restraints into your lap, his face hanging over yours for a moment, and you can smell the aftershave on his skin, your eyes slipping inadvertently to his neck. When you look back up into his eyes, he’s smiling at you. “Is that too tight?” he asks.
You shake your head. “Better too tight than too loose,” you say.
He chuckles. “I agree,” he says with a mischievous smirk.
You feel your face flushing over in an instant the moment you grasp his innuendo but, thankfully, Maverick has already stepped away to get into the adjacent seat. You turn your head to see his arms go up above his head to grasp his own restraints. You take a moment to admire the flexing of his muscles as he brings them down over his shoulders.
Once he’s properly seated, he lowers his head to glance at you under the curve of the restraints obstructing most of his view. You peek back at him and give him an excited smile. You’re hoping that getting giddy about the thrill of the ride might somehow eclipse the nausea your feelings toward Maverick are inciting. Besides, once it’s over, you can reunite with Goose (and give him an inconspicuous kick in the ass).
You feel a tap on your knee and look down to see Maverick’s hand on your lap, palm up. You look over at him again with raised eyebrows. “What’s up?” you say.
“Us, soon,” he says. “Give me your hand.”
“Why? Are you scared?” you ask teasingly.
Maverick chuckles. “A little,” he says.
“You are not!” You laugh.
His smile falters slightly and he furrows his eyebrows. “Not so much about the ride,” he says.
You gulp, staring at him mutely. His green eyes skim over your face as the ride jolts back, pushing both your heads forward until you can no longer see him behind the thick bars of the restraints. You look down at your lap; his hand is still sitting on top of your thigh. You close your eyes as the ride keeps going up slowly, a chorus of screams gradually building around you, and you place your hand in his.
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@malindacath
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