#We don’t know where the moonshiners are but we know they are there even if they never got caught

[kazoologist]

Underrated aspect of being an American is that everyone’s got some form of scoundrel and criminal in the family tree

#It unites us across all levels of socioeconomic class. Oh ur great grandpa engaged in some unethical. #Business practices and now yall are wealthy? Cool. We ran moonshine in the hills and therefore participated in the creation of nascar #Love it #We don’t know where the moonshiners are but we know they are there even if they never got caught #kazoo noises #I do love the usas relationship with breaking the law. We have such a fascinating relationship with conmen and criminals in narratives here

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Dear Prudence - Remus Lupin

A/N: well, again this keeps on working so… I hope you guys like it!

Request - Anonymous asked: Could I request a one-shot with hufflepuff potter!reader x Remus where James is favored by their parents for being in Gryffindor and on the quidditch team and being a golden child, and the reader is very kind and close to James but used to being ignored. Remus woos her and James is protective when he first finds out but comes around. Also short!reader please, I love Remus being a gentle giant

Warnings: James is favored by his parents over the reader, but they are not mean or anything, and I think that's it :)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Dear Prudence

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful and so are you

The first thing Remus noticed, were the letters.

“Hey, sunshine” Remus smiled when he spotted you as he entered the Great Hall.

“Hi moonshine” you smiled back at him.

“You know that’s not what you think it is, right?”

“Yes, it is. I am the sun and you are the moon” you insisted as he rolled his eyes a little.

“Whatever you say, love” he chuckled as the two of you reached the other three Marauders sitting at the Gryffindor table.

“Hey Jamie, I think our envelopes got mixed up” you said, walking over to your brother.

“Hey, bug” he smiled at you. “How do you know?” he asked, grabbing the envelope in front of him. “This one says my name” he said, confused as Remus sat down next to your brother.

“Yeah, this one also says James. F. Potter” you said, showing it to him. “But it feels a lot more pages than mine and it has those golden star stickers mum always puts on yours, Goldie” you smirked, mocking him and switching the letters.

“Oh, Goldie! I love that, I am calling you that from now on!” Sirius laughed.

“Shut up, Padfoot!” James said, hitting his arm as you opened the letter James had and saw your name inside.

“Yep, this one’s mine” you told him, taking out the single page.

“Would you like to sit down with us?” Remus offered, smiling brightly at you. So, of course, you couldn’t refuse.

“Why thank you, Remus, that is very kind of you” you said sitting between him and James, hitting your brother’s arm in the process.

“Hey! What did I do?” he asked, with his mouth half-full.

“That’s where you got that from?” Sirius asked, glaring at you a little as James opened his envelope and Remus caught at least four pages coming out of it. He didn’t want to obviously point that out, so he asked something different instead.

“How come both envelopes were addressed to James?” he asked, making you look up at him and you answered before James could.

“Mum writes to him so much, she made the envelopes, especially for him” you smirked, pinching his cheek and your brother quickly snapped your hand away.

“That’s not true!” he argued, with a hint of blush on his cheeks.

“Isn’t it? She writes to you at least twice a week” you mocked him. “I bet nobody else in the entire school comes close to how many letters you get” you told him.

“She writes to you too!”

“Yeah, every other week” you said, rolling your eyes and going back to your letter. “And even then she always asks about you” you said, showing it to him.

“That’s not true!”

“Wanna bet?”

“Fine! Five Galleons” James smirked proudly. You quickly went back to your letter, quickly spotting James’ name.

“Ah-ha! Here we are” you smirked back at him. “‘Make sure to take care of Jamie and give him a big kiss and hug for me’” you said, pointing the sentence at the bottom of your letter as James blushed furiously. “Aw, c’mere, Jamie, gimmie a kiss” you said, throwing your arms around his shoulders and peppering his cheek with kisses while the other three Marauders laughed.

“Ugh, get off me, you annoying bug!” he said pushing you away and making you crash into Remus, who quickly wrapped his arms around your waist so you wouldn’t fall.

“S-sorry, Rem” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as he helped you up.

“No problem, love” he smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” you chuckled.

“Well, you two are simply the sweetest thing in the world” you heard Sirius from across the table.

“Shut up, Sirius!”

“Shut up, Padfoot!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The second thing Remus noticed, were the family dinners.

During Christmas break, it was not surprising at all that the entire group of Marauders were residing at the Potters’ house. This year, Mrs. Potter had even got each of them a stocking, which he later found out had been your request, and Remus felt happier than he had in years. Since his mum passed away, he and his father never really liked celebrating Christmas anymore, so the feeling of this home made him warm inside and he loved it. And he especially loved spending more time with you, even if you were locked in your room most of the time.

“James, darling, where is your sister? Dinner is almost ready” he looked up from his book when Mrs. Potter came into the living room.

“Probably locked in her room” James shrugged.

“Well, could you go get her, please love?”

“Just a second, mum, I’m about to beat Padfoot” James smirked as they played Chess.

“I can go” Remus offered, marking the page on his book and getting up.

“Thank you so much, Remus. It is lovely to have actual help around here” she said, before messing James’ hair as he complained to his mother.

Remus chuckled and went upstairs to your room. He had realized this was probably the only room in your entire house he had never seen, aside from your parents’ room. He suddenly found himself feeling extremely curious to see how your room was. And why you insisted on spending so much time on it. He gently knocked on your door but he didn’t receive any response. It didn’t come as a surprise since he could hear the music blasting from the other side. He smiled when he recognized the song. It had become kind of your thing. He knew you loved muggle music and he loved introducing you to it.

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together? In the kind of world where we belong?

His smile grew wider when he heard your voice on top of the original song and he tried to knock harder but still, no response. So, he carefully opened the door. Whatever Remus had in mind about your room (which he may or may not think about more than he would like to admit) he never pictured this. Your room was as big as James’ if not a bit bigger, but you had a lot more windows and a lot more colors, by far. James’ room was decorated with Gryffindor colors and Quidditch teams he loved. But yours? Yours had paintings everywhere. Every wall. Top to bottom. Even some parts of your ceiling. How did you ever get to paint that high? He may never know. You were currently painting the side of your window with colorful flowers. Peonies. Your favorite.

You know it's gonna make it that much better When we can say goodnight and stay together

Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through

“Um, sunshine?”

“Remus° you turned to him, smiling brightly. Remus had never seen you so beautiful. You had possibly every single color in your pallet all over your face, your clothes, and your hands. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you” you said, walking over to your record player and making the song stop.

“Yeah, I figured as much” he chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I get really bored of my walls every now and then, and I start all over again” you explained. “I was in a very flowery mood” you said, pointing at your latest painting.

“That’s beautiful” he told you. “Did you paint all of the rooms in your house?”

“Yes, except Jamie’s” you explained. “He said I’m just going to ruin his Quidditch posters” you said, rolling your eyes. “But I did the guest rooms” you said, smiling. “Yours was inspired by ‘The Little Prince’” you informed him.

“I could tell” he smiled. “My favorite book when I was a kid” he added.

“I remember you telling me that” you smiled back.

“Do you know that program on our last year for magical paintings? You should really apply for next year” he suggested.

“You really think so?” you smiled and he nodded. “I have… actually been thinking about it” you informed him.

“You should” he smiled.

“I might” you smirked.

“Um, your mum says dinner’s almost ready” he informed you.

“Oh, really? I must have lost track of time” you said, walking into your room to wash your hands.

“I’m glad you liked your Christmas present” he said, shyly, looking at the Beach Boys’ record that was playing not long ago.

“I love it” you said, coming back out. “Did you like yours?”

“I’m halfway done” he said, remembering the book he was just reading downstairs.

“Already?”

“I can’t put it down” he smiled as you got closer to him.

“I’m glad you liked it” you smiled, making him chuckle when he saw you still had paint on your face.

“Um, you still have some-” he said, pointing at his left cheek. “Here” he said, grabbing the towel from your hand and carefully cleaning it up.

“Thanks, moonshine” you smiled.

“Hey, Mrs. Potter said-” Sirius came bursting into your room, smirking at the scene in front of him. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, as the two of you jumped apart. You saw Remus’ cheeks blushing and you felt yours burning a little.

“N-no-”

“We were just- um- on our way” Remus quickly said, before he left the room. You nodded, grabbing one of your books, and were about to follow him, but Sirius blocked your way.

“You know, you should just tell him already, Bambi” he said. “We both know he’s too shy to make the first move, plus he thinks your brother is gonna kill him” he said.

“Mhm, or maybe, he just doesn’t feel the same way about me” you insisted. “And you promised you wouldn’t say anything!” you glared at him.

“I haven’t!” he said, offended. “And you have to be joking, right, have you really not seen the way he looks at you with his goofy smile, sunshine” he said, mocking Remus’ voice and making you punch him in his arm. “Ouch! Would you stop that?”

“It’s not my fault. You moved here and decided to become my other annoying brother, so you have to pay the consequences” you smirked before you left your room and Sirius rolled his eyes, following you.

“Why did you bring your book?” Remus asked, confused when you sat down next to him and placed your book on the table.

“Well, it kinda gets boring when the conversation turns to Quidditch” you informed him.

He frowned a little confused, but quickly understood what you meant. Throughout the entire dinner, your parents had revolved the entire conversation about James. They first asked how school was, to which all of you replied, he and the rest of the Marauders included. Followed by if you were dating someone. And then, Quidditch. Remus realized you hadn’t even spoken for about forty-five minutes. Your parents even asked Sirius, Peter, and him some questions, but not you. He turned to look at you and saw you immersed in your book. He slowly smiled and then felt a kick in his leg. He turned to glare at Sirius sitting in front of him who was smirking and nodded his head towards you.

“What’s your book about?” he asked. It took you a moment to register that someone was actually talking to you before you lifted your head and turned to look at Remus.

“Oh, um-” you smiled shyly. “It’s a romance novel, I wouldn’t want to bore you” you chuckled.

“You wouldn’t bore me, sunshine” he insisted. When you smiled brightly at him, it gave him the courage to hold your hand in his underneath the table as you started talking about the plot of the book you were reading. He absolutely loved the way your face brightened when you talked about something you liked and that you had his full attention. He could not deny it any longer, he was definitely in love with you.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The third thing Remus noticed, was the birthday presents.

“Hi Rem” you smiled, opening your dorm. “What are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here? You left your own birthday party” he chuckled.

“Well, you know I don’t like parties” you chuckled. “James makes a whole fuss about our birthdays but it’s mostly for him” you insisted. “I bet nobody even noticed I left” you said.

“I did” he said, making your cheeks burn a little.

“Um… would you like to come in?” you asked, opening the door. “I’m watching an old movie that Alice lent me” you smiled. “I got pastries from the Kitchens” you said, making him smile.

“How could I say no to that?” he asked, following you inside. “I also wanted to give you your present” he said, making you look back at him.

“You got me a present? Remus, you didn’t have to get me anything” you smiled.

“Yes, I did. It’s your birthday” he said, as if it was obvious. “I’m sure you got so many presents already, but one more couldn’t hurt” he said, shyly.

“Not much” you shrugged. “Jamie gave me my badger slippers” you said, showing them to him. “And I gave him lion ones” you giggled. “Sirius gave me chocolate, oh, Alice gave me new paints” you said, pointing at them excitedly. “And Lily gave me a new perfume” you smiled.

“Oh” he frowned, confused. “What about your parents?”

“Oh, my dad sent me this book” you said, showing him a familiar book, he knew you had already talked with him about. “I mentioned to him it was my favorite so he got me one” you explained. “I don’t really have it in my heart to tell him I already have it” you chuckled.

“And your mom?” he asked, extremely confused. He counted at least twenty presents for James from your parents.

“My mum usually gives me some of her jewelry she knows I love, but she doesn’t like to send it through mail so she gives it to me when I come home for the summer” you explained.

“Oh… is… that it?” he asked, without really thinking.

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused.

“Nothing. Sorry, I didn’t mean anything I just- um- I don’t want to cross a line or anything it’s just-”

“Let me guess, Jamie got about thirty presents from my parents” you smiled sadly.

“Yeah” he said, awkwardly. “Look, you know I love your parents. They are some of the kindest people I’ve met, and I know I don’t have any siblings but… I just don’t think it’s fair that they favor James over you” he said, sadly.

“Look, it’s fine. I know my parents love me” you smiled. “Just… probably not as much as James” you chuckled. “I’ve actually learned it’s not the worst thing. I get zero pressure from them. Last year, I was really worried because I didn’t do well on one of my Herbology tests-”

“Because everything you touch dies?” Remus smirked, earning a glare from you.

“As I was saying… I was going to tell them when we came home for the Holidays, but they were so upset that James had lost the last Quidditch match, that they didn’t even say anything to me” you shrugged. “I can literally do anything I want whenever I want and they won’t really mind. I mean, I’m pretty sure I can even date whomever I want but the day James gets a serious girlfriend, my mum may actually die” you told Remus, making him laugh a little. “It used to bother me a lot, but… they do show me that they love me in different ways” you explained. “But I think it’s really sweet you care about that” you smiled at him.

“Well, of course I do. You’re my favorite person in the world” he blurted out.

“I am?” you asked, feeling your heart flutter.

“Of course you are” he smiled.

“I think… you’re the first person in my life that has liked me more than James” you said, feeling a few tears in your eyes. “Sorry, that’s stupid-”

“It’s not” he assured you, pulling you closer and wiping away your tears. “And I really mean it” he smiled. “Happy birthday, sunshine” he said, giving you his present.

“Moonshine” you smiled, opening it. “Remus” you said, feeling your eyes welling up. “Is this-?”

“Yes” he smiled, grabbing The Beatles’ record from you and putting it on your record player. “I know this is your favorite song and it’s also mine because it reminds me of you” he said as the guitar started playing. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Really?” you asked, excitedly.

“Only because it’s your birthday” he said as you grabbed his hand and walked to the middle of your dorm.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blueIt's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?

“Why does this song remind you of me?” you asked curiously.

“Well, I read that the song was written about Prudence Farrow-”

“Who is Mia Farrow’s less famous little sister? Wow, Remus-”

“No, that’s not why” he glared a little at you. “I mean she is but, that’s not why” he insisted.

“So?”

Dear Prudence, open up your eyes Dear Prudence, see the sunny skies The wind is low, the birds will sing That you are part of everything Dear Prudence, won't you open up your eyes?

“Did you apply to the art program” he asked, making you smile at him.

“You remembered that?”

“Of course, I do” he frowned. “I remember everything you tell me” he insisted.

“Well… I did” you told him. “I should be hearing about it during summer” you informed him.

“I’m sure you’ll get in, sunshine” he said, kissing your forehead.

Look around, around (round, round, round) Look around, around, around (round, round) Look around

“Well, it was written because she would rarely come out of her bungalow while she meditated. It’s kind of like you and your paintings” he smiled.

“I’m not that bad” you scoffed offended.

“Love, I had to come up three times a day every day on Christmas break so you wouldn’t forget to eat” he reminded you.

“Oh, and here I was thinking you came to get me because you missed me” you pouted.

“That too” he assured you.

Dear Prudence, let me see you smile Dear Prudence, like a little child The clouds will be a daisy chain So let me see you smile again Dear Prudence, won't you let me see you smile?

“I really love this song” you smiled. “And my birthday gift” you added. “And um-” you said, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked away. “C-can I tell you something?” you asked, nervously.

“You can tell me anything, love” he assured you.

“O-okay, you don’t have to say anything and… if it’s weird you can just leave and not talk to me ever again, and… it’s not just because you said you liked me more than James b-but it’s been something that I have felt for a while and I just-”

“Sunshine” he said, cupping your cheek and making you stop your ramble. “I love you too” he smiled, making your entire body feel like you were on cloud nine.

“Y-you do?” you asked, still not believing him.

“I really do” he said, leaning in to kiss you.

Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day The sun is up, the sky is blue It's beautiful, and so are you Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Yeah, go get settled, Moony! We’ll wait for you outside” James said as Remus walked upstairs to put his things away. After tossing everything in there really, he quickly found himself in front of your door again. James had invited him to stay over the summer and it had been two weeks without you. Two weeks too long. He smiled as the music blasted on the other side of the door, only this time, he opened it and walked in.

My, my, I tried to hold you back, But you were stronger Oh, yeah, and now it seems My only chance is giving up the fight

And how could I ever refuse? I feel like I win when I lose

Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war Waterloo, promise to love you for ever more Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you

Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Waterloo Finally facing my Waterloo

Remus smiled to himself before he walked over to you, pulling your paintbrush away from your hand and making you turn around frowning, but you quickly smiled when you saw it was him.

“Moonshine!” you smiled, throwing your arms around his shoulders and he quickly wrapped his around your waist, twirling you around and planting a big kiss on your lips.

“Hey, sunshine” he smiled when you pulled away. “I missed you” he said, giving you another peck on the lips.

“I missed you too” you smiled, pulling him closer. “How has your summer been?”

“Pretty boring, to be honest” he chuckled. “I see you kept yourself busy” he said, twirling your paintbrush in his hand. “Prongs and Padfoot said you played Quidditch with them yesterday” he chuckled.

“Yeah, they made me” you rolled your eyes.

“Have you… told your brother about us?”

“No” you pouted. “You said we would tell him together” you reminded him. “You know it’s gonna be fine, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Sirius just keeps insisting he will kill me” he laughed nervously.

“I won’t let that happen” you said, kissing his cheek. “I promise” you smiled sweetly.

“So, what are you painting?”

“Oh! I’ve been waiting to tell you” you said, excitedly. “I got into the art program!”

“You did? Love, that’s amazing! I knew you could do it!” he said, hugging you again and giving you a small kiss. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, Remmy” you smiled. “You’re the first person I’ve told” you smiled.

“I am? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh, well, I actually told my parents when we got here, but James won the Quidditch Cup and there are… about ten Quidditch teams wanting to recruit him so… I don’t think they heard me or even knew what I was talking about” you said, smiling sadly. “Sirius said it sounded cool, though” you told him.

“I’m sorry, love” he said, pulling you closer.

“It’s okay. You’re the one I really wanted to tell” you smiled, leaning in to kiss him again. “And, I have to finish this painting” you said, trying to get the brush from him but he put it out of his reach. “Rem!”

“I just got here, love” he pouted. “Wouldn’t you rather spend the day with your boyfriend who missed you so much?”

“Well, yes, that’s why I wanted to finish it before you got here” you insisted. “But James and Sirius kept insisting that I played Quidditch with them yesterday and I didn’t get to paint” you told him but he still placed the brush out of your reach when you tried to grab it. “Remus!”

“Well, you can continue tomorrow” he said, pulling you to him. “I have been waiting for two whole weeks to kiss my beautiful girlfriend” he said between kisses, feeling your smile against his lips.

“Okay, I can continue tomorrow” you said, as he threw the brush on your table and deepened the kiss. “I missed you so much” you said, pulling him closer.

“I missed you too, love” he smiled.

"Hey bug, have you seen Moony-? BLOODY HELL! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" James yelled coming inside your room and covering his eyes at the scene in front of him. Remus instantly jumped off you so quickly he fell to the floor as Sirius came in running behind James when they heard the yelling.

"Why are you yell-? oh bloody hell!" he smirked when he saw Remus standing up and saw that both of seemed very nervous.

"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" James yelled to Remus and started running after him with his wand pointing at his neck but you stepped in between.

"Jamie, stop!"

"Get out of the way bug!" your brother’s voice was dangerously low.

"Prongs, calm down" Remus said trying not to show how nervous he really was.

"Calm down?!" James snapped. "That's MY sister!"

"Jamie, please, calm down!" you said also a little nervous.

"YOU SHUT UP!"

"Don't yell at her!" Remus snapped.

"Mate, I would shut up if I were you" Sirius told him.

"ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP!" you yelled at all of them.

“I’m going to kill you!” James yelled at Remus before he started chasing him around your room. Remus quickly ran out with James following him.

“I told you, he would find out sooner or later” Sirius smirked.

“You are of no use to me right now, SIrius!” you said, punching his arm as you followed your brother and your boyfriend. Sirius quickly walking behind you.

“James, what is going on? What’s with all the yelling?” you saw your mother and father come inside the living room where James was still chasing Remus and throwing jinxes at him.

“Stop it!” you yelled running over to your brother and grabbing his arm.

“Get off me!” he complained as Remus ran over to Sirius, hiding behind him.

“You’re being ridiculous!” you said, trying to reach for his wand but he placed it out of your reach. However, you clung yourself to him, trying your best to get it.

“What in Merlin’s name are you two kids doing?” your father asked, confused. It was rare to see the two of you fight like this nowadays.

“Let go!” he said, as your hand reached for his wand.

“You let go!” you complained.

“It’s my wand!”

“Gimmie it!”

“Alright, stop it! Both of you!” your mother’s voice was heard through the room as she pointed her wand at the two of you, separating you, and making James’ wand fly into her hand.

“He started it!”

“She started it!”

“I don’t care who started it! I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now!” your mother said, with her hands on her waist.

“Why don’t you ask your daughter how she betrayed me!” James said, glaring at you.

“Oh, please! Grow up, James! You’re being ridiculous!”

“That’s enough!” your father intervened. “Your mother asked you a question. What is wrong with the two of you?”

“She stole my best friend!” James said, pointing at you accusingly.

“What? I did no such thing!”

“And I thought I was your best friend” Sirius added, offended while Remus rolled his eyes.

“James, sweetheart what are you talking about?” your mother asked, confused.

“Well, mum, I just found your daughter, my so-called sister” he said glaring at you as you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Kissing my best friend!”

“James!”

“Excuse me?” your father said, a bit upset, throwing daggers at the two boys behind your mother.

“Fleamont, darling, calm down” she said, to her husband before turning to you. “Sweetheart, would you care to explain yourself?” your mother asked you, calmly.

“First of all, Jamie is making it a bigger deal than it is” you complained.

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Were you or were you not just kissing Moony upstairs?”

“What?” your father asked again, but your mother stopped him.

“Well?” James asked, arching his eyebrow at you.

“I… was… kissing… my… boyfriend” you said, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Excuse me?” your father asked, baffled.

“Boyfriend?” James asked.

“Remus is your boyfriend?” your mother asked, excitedly.

“You can’t have a boyfriend! You’re too young!” your dad complained.

“And it can’t be my best friend!” James added.

“Hurtful, Prongs. Really hurtful” Sirius glared at him.

“Oh, hush, all of you” your mother said, rolling her eyes. “Fleamont, you and I were their age when we started dating” she reminded your father. “And James, you should be happy that your sister is with one of your best friends. Remus is a wonderful guy” she smiled at Remus who felt just a little less nervous.

“Thanks, Mrs. Potter” he said, blushing a little.

“I’m so happy for you two. Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell us?” she asked you.

“Well, I didn’t really know how to because I knew James would throw a fit about it” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I did not throw a fit-”

“James, that’s enough” your mother told him. “Leave your sister alone” she scowled.

“But mum-”

“But nothing. She’s happy and so is Remus and we are all happy for them and that’s it” she insisted.

“I don’t even get a say in it?”

“No, why would you get a say in your sister’s love life?”

“At least she has a love life” Sirius laughed.

“Hey!” James complained.

“Good one, son” your dad laughed with Sirius.

“What is happening?” James asked, upset before he started going upstairs. “I do not like this one bit!” you heard before he slammed his door.

“Don’t listen to him, sweet pea” your dad said, smiling kindly at you. “We are happy for you” he admitted, kissing your head. “But Remus is not allowed in your room and you are not allowed in his, or the two of you alone in a room, understood?” he frowned.

“Yes, dad” you smiled.

“Yes, sir” Remus replied at the same time.

“Good” he smirked proudly.

“I’m so happy for you, sweetheart” your mother said, hugging you.

“Thanks, mum” you smiled.

“You too, Remus” she said, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter” he smiled before she left with your dad.

“I’d like to say that went well” Sirius smirked as you sat with Remus on the sofa and he kissed your forehead while Sirius sat on the chair.

“To be honest, that’s the best I could have asked for” Remus chuckled.

“It felt weird to have so much attention on me” you admitted as Remus kissed your cheek.

“Alright” you heard James’ voice coming down the stairs again. “I have decided that I approve this” he said in a serious tone, sitting closer to Sirius.

“You do know we don’t need your approval, right?” you said, glaring a little at him.

“But there will be no kissing in front of me” he glared at the two of you. “That’s just gross!”

“Fair enough, Prongs” Remus chuckled, kissing the side of your head.

“I just want to say that I am still hurt about your comments made earlier” Sirius said, sounding offended.

“You knew about them the entire time, didn’t you?” James glared at him.

“And I forgive you because that’s what best friends do, Prongsie” he smiled innocently.

“Fine, I forgive you too” James said, rolling his eyes as Sirius hugged him, kissing his cheek. “Get off, you goof!”

“This is going to be a long summer, isn’t it?” Remus asked you.

“Yes, I am so happy you’re here” you smiled, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Hey! What did I just say!?”

“Shut up, Jamie!”

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Songs: Wouldn't It Be Nice - The Beach Boys Dear Prudence - The Beatles Waterloo - ABBA

A/N: I hope you loves like it! :)

#marauders #marauders imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #james potter x sister!reader #remus lupin oneshot

[mulansaucey]

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts.

Azriel x Reader

Prompt: Rita has a new supply of Moonshine and gives a jar to the IC. This creates a blacked out drunk Azriel.

Warnings: alcohol use, flirting, suggestive, mentions of sex, drunken behavior. Let me know if I left anything out.

Note: Literally sitting in bed when I had this idea. This is just for fun and I hope you enjoy!

Music playing in the halls of Rita’s surrounds the Inner Circle as well as laughter. Shot glasses banging against their table, squeals of joy from seeing the glasses of those pretty cocktails that Feyre and Mor like so much, and the beautiful smile that graces my mates face. Tonight is for fun and bonding.

Azriel has been on a month long mission just returning to me a few days ago where we cooped up in our cozy home, enjoying the song of our mating bond before returning to society. When he’s gone, there’s a hole in my chest. Color, music, art becomes void. Life is not as exciting without him by my side. Even after decades of being married and mated the bond is still alive and thriving as if it was still the night he took a bite out of that meal I made him to accept him as my mate.

I’m an accomplished fae. I’ve strategized wars, wrote countless books on the plant life of Prythian that has helped healers cultivate new medicines, and have helped the Inner Circle for almost two centuries now. When he’s away, I keep myself occupied and have my job to thank for that but that aching feeling doesn’t go away.

That’s the strength of a mating bond, it brings males to their knees. It brought Azriel to his. Our souls submitting to one another and refusing to settle for anything less than each other.

“What’s so interesting, love?” Azriel teases as I can’t my eyes off him. Those hazel eyes trail over me, even in the haze of faelights it feels like he can see every inch of me. He bites his lip as if he’s recalling just a few hours ago when he was biting the meat of my thighs. I know I am. Heat rises in my cheeks as he laughs and leans down to the leg of my chair and pulls me closer to him. The bond between thrums with satisfaction that our beings are even closer now. His hand finds the back of my neck and he caresses.

“You, my heart. I can’t seem to take my eyes off of you.” I tease him back.

The shots making my mind looser and my flirty tendencies arise. I’m a horny drunk when it comes to this male. Who wouldn’t?

Azriel raises his brows and smirks. He leans down to press a sweet kiss then pulls back.

“You are lovely in this dress. I can’t wait to rip it off you tonight.” He says as he presses sweet kisses along my cheek and jaw.

“Azriel you better not! It’s embarrassing having to keep going to the tailor because you have no self control.”

“Self control? We’ll see how much self control I have later, you’ll begging for me I promise you that.” He laughs.

Suddenly a heavy presence can be felt behind us. I don’t even have to turn to know it’s Cassian.

He slaps the back of Azriel’s chair and loudly yells, “Stop the heavy petting and come to the bar, Rita just got a new drink called ‘Moonshine’ it’s apparently a lot stronger than any wine or whiskey.”

Cassian doesn’t wait for an answer and picks me up while yelling over his shoulder, “If you want her, Az you gotta come get her!” We leave a trail of giggles as my grumpy mate follows.

Azriel trusts his brother and knows Cassian just missed him and wants to have fun. It’s why he doesn’t cut off his hands for touching my body.

Cassian drops me on a bar stool and leans over to drop a sloppy kiss to Nesta’s cheek as she bats him. From the corner of my eye though I can see her pulling him back to her to give him a proper kiss. I’m happy for my friends as they had a very tumultuous start to their mate ship. As I’m trying not to be nosy in my friends business Azriel comes to stand behind me, strategically blocking me from any other males or females view. Azriel is selfish when it comes to me. I can’t blame him, he’s waited centuries for me. And I him.

Rita walks up to us with a jar of clear liquid. It looks innocent, like water, but knowing her that liquid will make you regret ever being born. But that’s the appeal to Rita. She knows how to have fun and has quality supply.

“Alright ladies and gentlebats this is Moonshine. It’s technically whiskey but its process makes the alcohol stronger and you drunker quicker. I will give you a shot, on the house, if you like it I’ll sell a jar to you. This stuff is no joke and illegal in some courts. More recently our High Lord and Lady gave me the okay to produce it.” Rita winks to Feyre and Rhys.

We all look over them and Rhys shrugs, “Feyre wanted to try it, I couldn’t say no.”

We all laugh at the lack of ability our friend has to say no to his wife. I see Feyre eye the glass with excitement.

“Feyre you do the honors of first shot!” I yell out as she takes the glass and downs it in one gulp.

She freezes and we wait on bated breath. Her eye twitches and she gives a full body shiver. We break in laughter at her funny reaction as she immediately takes her fruity cocktail from Rhys, who was mid sip, and takes a few gulps.

Feyre’s face twist in disgust as she tells us, “That’ll definitely get you fucked up, I feel like I’ve grown chest hair.”

Laughter fills our area again. Rhys presses a kiss against Feyre’s head as he reaches for his own shot glass. Each of us besides Amren and Varian, who are currently in Summer, reach for our own. I clank my shot glass against Azriel’s and down my shot. I immediately regret this decision as pure alcohol burns my throat. It’s worse than the tonics Madja gives us. At least we get some what rewarded for that. I put my glass down and look over at my mate. His free hand softly rubbing my upper back, he downs the shot and smack his lips.

“It’s definitely strong but I don’t mind it.” Azriel says to the group.

I pout at him and say, “Of course it doesn’t bother you, Shadowsinger.” He rolls his eyes and moves his hand from the back of my neck to the front. Slowly moving my head back so far I have no choice but to look at him and only him.

“It’s Shadowsinger now is it?” He smirks down at me. Before I can reply peanuts that Rita supplies generously across her bar are being pelted at us. Azriel loosens his hold on me as we both turn to our family.

“You two are like bunnies, I feel like I need to spray you two with a bottle of water.” Nesta says.

I gasp and laugh out, “Like you have any room to talk! The House of Wind is contaminated with you and Cassian’s fluids.” All I get is more peanuts being thrown at me. The two of us dissolve into giggles as I throw them back at her. Cassian and Azriel having to take it away.

Cassian then turns his attention to Rita watching us in amusement.

“We’ll take a jar please, you always know how to make me feel good.” He winks at her. Rita rolls her eyes and passes him the jar.

“I’m charging you extra for that little stunt.” She says back to him.

“Oh c’mon that was a compliment! You’ve got the best stuff in the city.” He argues as Nesta shushes him. Nesta opted out of drinking, instead preferring to smoke mirthroot.

We all go back to our designated booth empty shit glasses in tow. We decide to play truth or drink. Azriel being the secretive person he is rather take the shot then tell the truth. I have a feeling he just wants to indulge the rare drink. I don’t blame him, he works hard for his court and he’s allowed to drop his inhibitions. Ever since we’ve gotten together I’ve taught him about self care and allowing one self to enjoy the moment. The centuries of training and spy work are still instilled in him, something even I can’t take away. But with the love of his mate and family he’s allowed himself to be happy.

I didn’t like the moonshine so I stuck to my cocktails then water, as I had a feeling someone needed to be more sober than the others. Azriel takes his eighth shot when he freezes. I still, looking around to see if anything was amiss. When I look back at him I see him smiling.

“You are a rare jewel.” He says so casually. Looking at me like I’m the only person in the world. He reaches over to brush my hair out of my eyes when instead he pokes me. This clumsy move tells me, he’s drunk. He giggles as I jump back slightly from a literal finger poking my eye.

“I’m so sorry love. Wow your skin is so soft.” Azriel starts touching my face in fascination. He then pulls me into his strong embrace. The awkward is angle but he just sighs constantly. Happy to be holding me. He starts petting my hair as if I’m a cute kitten.

The confused yet amused looks across the table have me pulling back from my mates embrace when he loudly says, “Noooooo, don’t leave me. I was so comfortable.”

I can hear and see Rhys and Cass laughing and clutching each other. Azriel RARELY gets drunk. I feel bad, maybe I should’ve limited how much he could drink since it’s not his usual stuff. Azriel has a fairly high tolerance for his usual whiskey or beer. Eight shots of his regular choice of drink would be nothing but him drinking moonshine has him reacting differently. I feel a little guilty but Azriel has carried me home and taken care of me plenty of times. Tonight I promise myself to return the favor.

“I know my heart, but I need a glass of water and so do you. I’ll be right back, I promise.” I caress his face and he looks at me with so much love I almost don’t want to go even if it’s a few minutes.

“Okay, hurry back. Take a shadow.” He says with a pout. A shadow always sticks with me regardless of his command or not. I shove my love down our bond for his thoughtfulness. Azriel gives me a goofy grin and pushes his love down to me.

“I need a drink, c’mon. Lover boy will be just fine.” Feyre says as she drags me away from my mate.

His eyes trailing after me until Cass and Rhys grab his shoulders to get his attention. Knowing my mate is in safe hands has me turning to Feyre. We talk a little about her art studio and Nyx. She confesses to having a bit of Mom guilt when she goes out. The alcohol making her a bit weepy from missing her son. I distract her by dragging her to the dance floor, after checking to make sure Azriel was still with the boys and has a glass of water.

After a few songs Mor and Nesta join us. I still keep an eye on my mate, making sure he’s okay and having fun. The next time I turn my eyes to him he’s gone. Panic fills my chest as I look around the bar for him. When I look up to the second floor I see him and his brother attempting to climb the rail. At that moment I decide it’s time to go home. I grab the girls and haul their asses the second floor before any of our mates cracks their skull open. The boys had way more moonshine than we did.

We successfully get them away from the railing, I grab Azriel’s face and he gently shoves me off of him. I frown at him, water lining my eyes at his rejection towards me. I go to ask him what’s wrong but before I do he tells me, “I am a mated male! You can not touch me.”

He sways a little grabbing onto Rhys for support. Rhys is already getting yelled at by his High Lady but she stops to turn to Azriel in amusement.

“What did he just say?” Feyre says to me. I stay silent for a moment realizing the situation. I slightly smile at my mates loyalty even though it is me who is touching him. I tell Feyre to grab Rhys and I can handle Azriel.

“Azriel, my heart. It’s me, I’m your mate.” I tell him gently helping him find his balance.

“I don’t want to go home with you. I want my mate. She will take care of me. I don’t need you.” As he’s still struggling to walk. I ignore him and help him down the stairs all the while he’s protesting insisting he has a wife and mate waiting for him at home. I roll my eyes fondly. Knowing it’s going to a rough walk home. He insists that I only touch his arm.

“I am a gentleman and my wife would be mad I let you walk home alone but I am not sharing a bed with you. She is only one I share my bed with. I love her.” He says to me, total seriousness.

I take a look at him noting his shirt is wrinkled from Cassian constantly grabbing onto him, his hair is wild, and his walk is staggered. I make a mental note to never let him drink Moonshine again. He trips slightly making me grab onto his back and front. He looks at me weirdly and takes my hands off his body.

“I don’t know youuuu. My body is reserved for my wife, I am fine with walking on my own.” His words are sloppy and he trips again. Laughing at him I ignore his protests and guide him to our shared home. The walk is a struggle as he keeps tripping yet insisting I keep my hands off him. I shove my love down the bond hoping he’ll recognize me that way. I feel more assured that even if I wasn’t with him and he was drunk he’d always come home to me. I hear him sigh with content and he lazily slaps his chest.

“This here, in my heart, she’s calling to me. I need to go home to her. I can feel her. I want to go home.” He pouts.

“Okay big guy, I’m gonna get you home to her. I’m sure she misses you.” I say, playing along. If I play along I’m hoping it’ll make him more amiable.

“She does! I can feel her even when I’m miles and miles away. I miss her too. Sometimes when I’m in the same room as her, I miss her. I just want her all to my self.” He confesses, I notice he’s started to slowly relax letting me guide him home. The thought of seeing me being his motivator. My heart is fluttering seeing him like this. Azriel is usually so smooth and calculated. His words to me sound like poetry, like a crafted song made just for me to hear. Now he’s confessing his love to, how he perceives, a stranger. Apart of me knows that he must know it’s me. Even if it’s deep down. But I can’t help but feel so special to him.

I finally spot our home, the sight of our porch makes me let an out a sound of relief.

Azriel looks to what I see and goes, “How do you know where I live? I don’t remember telling you. I wouldn’t have told you! I told you that I don’t want to go home with you.” He pushes himself away from me stumbling to our small gate. He struggled to unlock and me being exhausted from helping a 6’5 Illryian male slap his hands away and move to open it. He rubs his hand where I slapped and looks at me with a pout.

“Oh you’re okay! Stop being a baby and come inside please.” I tell him, laughing lightly at him. He moves to walk past me but turns before I can even take a step on the porch.

“This is as far as you can go. My wife will not be disrespected by having another female in our home.” He says with a serious face. The message isn’t as threatening since he’s still swaying and eyes glossed over. I smile at him and make a move to walk around him but he pushes his arms out, clumsily I might add, and repeats what he just said. I hold my arms up in surrender to this ridiculous statement.

“Azriel, my heart. I am your wife, you are mated to me. And I want to be in our bed and snuggle. Don’t you?” I ask giving him my best puppy dog eye. I don’t even know if it’ll work if the liquor made him forget who I was entirely. He goes to reply when he bends over to his side and pukes. I rush to his side and rub his back. He stand up again and leans against a pillar on our porch. His face smushed against it I can faintly hear.

“I want my mate…I’m not going home with you.” I roll eyes, trying not to get upset with him because it isn’t his fault and I know I’m not a doll to be around when I’m drunk. I walk towards our door, it unlocks automatically due to the ward Azriel insisted on placing. I try to gently push him inside. His wings knocking over a vase I was gifted from a past High Lord of Summer, I grimace as the antique lays broken on the floor. He looks around for what made the loud sound and he gasps loudly as if I was the one broken on the floor.

“My wife is going to kill me! Fuck, fuck, shit. Oh my gods I need to go to summer now! I need to go before she notices it’s broken.” He says making a move for the door. I immediately put a stop to that and drag him to our bedroom. I think he’s exhausted himself and flops down on the bed. Not making any moves. I start unlacing his boot and once I’ve got them off I go for his pants.

He slaps my hands away and goes, “I can undress myself. You have no right to touch me there! Go home before my wife finds you, she’ll kill you. My mate is verrrry possessive of me. She won’t like youuuu.” He sings at me.

He starts giggling and taking off his pants and shirt while moving to grab my pillow and holds onto it like it’s the answer of all his prayers.

“I miss her so much. I’m in bed but she isn’t here. It smells like her, I never want to smell anything again. Only her.” I make a face at him, I didn’t see how that makes sense but he’s drunk so I don’t question it. I make sure he has a glass of water and is tucked into bed before I make my move to join him. As soon as I start to move the cover he jolts back up, still clutching my pillow.

“Thank you for taking me home but I insist you take the couch. I will never share a bed with another female. I will not have our marriage bed tainted by a stranger.” He says eyeing me like I’m the King of Hybern resurrected.

“Enough, sweetheart. Tonight has been really funny and sweet but I want to sleep. Don’t you want to cuddle?” I say, I glance at the clock noting the late hour. He doesn’t make a move and stays silent. Giving me the answer I needed.

“As I stated you can take the couch as thank you but you have to leave before my WIFE comes home.” Azriel states, emphasizing the wife part as if I’m the drunken one.

“Okay I give up, I’m sleeping on the couch. Goodnight my love.” I say stealing a quick kiss from him that leaves him stuttering and blushing.

“Y-you just kissed me! That’s so rude, that’s-“ I close the door cutting off his rant. I go down the hall for our closet where we keep the extra blankets and pillows. I settle in our large and comfy couch that Azriel insisted on getting when we moved in. I’m now thankful he insisted. I start laughing recalling the night. Tonight was stressful but has shown me how loved I am. I have a male who’s loyal and kind. Even when he thought I was a stranger he wanted to walk me home so I wasn’t alone. I’m thankful to call him mine. I’m thankful to be his. I drift off to sleep with a soft smile, excited to tease him to no end in the morning for this stunt he pulled tonight.

——

Sunlight enters my home, the warmth of it caressing my cheek. I nuzzle closer to the warmth when I realize it’s Azriel’s hand. He’s sitting on the floor, his hair is a mess and he’s laying his head down close to mine. His eyes look groggy and I can tell he didn’t have a good sleep.

“Where were you last night? I couldn’t sleep without you.” He whispers gently, as if the sound of his own voice made his head ache.

I start laughing loudly, Azriel flinching back and rubbing his head. I start laughing so hard I start crying. My mate looks at me unamused.

“I’m sorry my love. But you literally kicked me out of our bed and made me sleep here. You insisted.” I tell him, laughter seeping through my words.

His mouth drops down in shock. He’s still rubbing his head and I feel bad so I start massaging his scalp the way I know he likes. I gets himself up off the floor and into my awaiting arms. Azriel secretly loves being the small spoon so I baby him and rub down his back and up into his scalp. The mating bond compelling me to make sure he’s okay and loved.

I start recalling the night for him. Apparently after that eighth shot he completely blacked out. He doesn’t remember a single thing from last night past that point. He grumbles and hides his face in my neck. His words coming out muffled.

“I’m so sorry. I hate not being in control like that. I’m sorry for treating you like that.” He says while pressing kisses on my neck and he squeezes me even tighter.

“It’s okay, you’ve taken care of me plenty of times when I’m drunk. I’m glad you were having fun and it was really sweet of you to defend my honor and our bond even if it was me. I love you so much for it.” I tell him making sure his eyes were on me. I cradled his face, caressing the scars and stubble that reside there. He leans down to give me soft kiss once, twice, three times before he nuzzles his nose against mine.

Azriel may be hard to read, stoic, and cold to everyone else but here, in the privacy and intimacy of our home he’s lovable and soft. A privilege to be able to see this of side. The decades of trust and memories helping him become a more loving person.

“How are you feeling though?” I ask him, he groans and lays his head down.

“I feel like absolute death. Actually death would be more merciful than what I’m feeling now.” My mate, the dramatic. I go to move to make him some tea and a light meal for his tummy but he just holds me tighter.

“Just stay for a little longer, I finally feel better now that I’m with you.”

Who am I to resist and say no? So I settle in and relishbeing with my mate and husband. Enjoying a quiet morning after such a loud night.

#azriel acosf #azriel fluff #azriel imagines #acotar funny #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel being drunk #inner circle #azriel acotar

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 2: GOD FORM Nika! Luffy x F! Reader

Requested by: @jessysapphireblue ➡ Kinktober! Prompt 2 wirh our luffy🥰🥰 Luffy with a female magician reader. Perhaps in a nice secluded Environment and we know curious luffy is and how He would love to test it out with her as she is an absolute sweetheart and laughing with him but she is always so kind and gentle with him even during everything. Pls? I love your writing 🥰💙🩵 tw: mdni. Luffy turns to Nika with his G5. oral. food play. luffy takes you to the clouds, literally. vag. size kink. pretty sweet and romantic. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Moonshine, kissing your skins with soft silver light. Every time you look up in the sky, and the moon is on full display, you remember Wano kuni.

“Luffy… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen your Nika form” you mumble, with a curious hidden intention floating around in your mind. Not only Luffy is handsome in his normal form, but, the white curls and red eyes have been in the back of your mind since you caught a glimpse of it in between tears of joy for his reborn.

“Nhh? You wanna fight, (Name)?” he jokes, laughing like he only knows how to. That laughter that alters the rhythm of your heart; that makes it beat to the sound of happy drums.

You stand up immediately, looking at him, ignoring he was joking about fighting.

“I don’t wanna fight, I wanna… uh… you know…” you stutter, is not that you aren’t close to Luffy enough to ask him to have intimacy, but this sounded differently. However, Luffy can tell -only with you- when you want it.

“Shi. Shi. Shi… you want me to do it while in Nika form? I kinda thought of it once in the bathroom” he asks, taking the straw hat off his face, allowing his adorable cheeks to be bathed by the biggest star shining above the skies.

Your cheeks burn. He thought of it once?

Your eyes land on his sunshine ones, and nod with no further words. Yet, your expression seems enough to give Luffy the yes he needed.

As soon as it is humanly possible to think, Luffy snatches you by the waist and jumps into the beach coast. It was a calm night. The Sunny had docked in a calm island, with no villains to defeat and only to grab some food to continue the trip after Wano. Everybody had already eaten; Sanji and Zoro were doing the dishes and most of the Strawhats were sleeping inside their home, the Thousand Sunny Go.

“I need a place with a lot of moonlight” he chimes, while jumping off the railing to the slightly cold sand underneath.

“Is that a need for your powers?” you ask, curious.

Luffy doesn’t really know if it’s true or not, but he enjoys seeing your face while his body mixes with yours.

“Mmm… I don’t know…” he lies, and you can clearly tell.

Soon, you get to a secluded area right next to the beach. The waves crashing against some rocks will be the perfect companion to the drums of liberation you are sure you will hear.

“So, how should I do this… nghh…” Luffy thinks, pressing his index in the middle of his forehead. Maybe he needs to transmute or connect his energy to another being to turn into Nika?

You wait, sitting on the rock where he deposited you. Looking like a magical mermaid, Luffy suddenly understands that turning into Nika was easier while looking at the person that makes his heart go fast.

And in indeed, and all of a sudden, with his eyes fixed on yours, his heart starts to go even faster. Beating harder against his chest, turning the things that surrounded him into soft gum.

His pristine white locks flow with the sea breeze, and you could swear the moon shines brighter than before since he transformed. The waves act differently, as if they were waiting for Luffy to command them. And you can’t help but gawk at his majestically look… he does look like a God. His litmus halo, the bleached clothes, his smile, the crimson eyes…

“L-Luffy…” you mumble, in awe. It’s the first time you have him right in front of you, and so close, in such form.

He smiles, or rather, smirks. It makes your stomach drop, and your thighs to tightly close.

Luffy pounces on you, laughing. Your back doesn’t hurt when it hits the rocks behind. It’s all soft, and caring, and you feel happy but also there is a presence that feels like is crushing your lungs, making you dizzy… it is the intensity of Luffy’s Gear 5 power and will.

“You know I can imagine anything and make it happen, (Name)?” he asks, with his pointy nose pressed against yours.

You sigh, loudly. There is enough tension built inside your chest. “I… yes…?”

“If I want to, your clothes can turn into delicious chocolate… shishishi” he laughs, touching your chest. His hands play with the fabrics that cover your body and suddenly he can rip them with no effort. Luffy takes a piece into his mouth, he is even amazed at his own power… in deed, what he wanted, turned to be real; your clothes are made of chocolate now.

He begins devouring your shirt first, and then your pants and when he is ready the panties that began to soak with your needy fluids are now melting in your skin.

Luffy gloats before attacking. He does not eat desperately just yet. First, he bites one string of your panties, and then the other. The tip of his front teeth graze your hipbones, making your quiver every time he does. Your hand reaches his hair and lovingly plays with his soft, alabaster curls.

Everything feels like happiness; pleasure and lust mix with pumping hearts of full devotion and love.

His tongue finally reaches for your core, and while he rejoices in the flavour of chocolate he also does with the salty caramel taste of your core.

Luffy’s fingers search for your hand, and when both collide they interlock; the more he pleases you orally, the more you squeeze.

And he takes you to heaven, because if there is something he is the king already of, that’s oral. Your back arches, and orgasm approaches. One of many more of those he likes to drink from.

But this God does not only take you to the stars just with pleasure, but quite literally…

Easing off the buzzing sound of your heart pumping in your ears, with still aftershocks of pleasure from your climax, you feel his arms around your waist and the wind in your face.

“Luffy! What are you doing?” you ask, surrounding with your arms his neck.

“Let’s try going up to the skies!” he laughs, jumping with you in arms. What once used to be sand, looks more like an elastic bed that he uses to fly up.

You open your eyes, as wide as possible -maybe even popping out?- making him laugh louder. While you can’t help but panic to see your feet that far from the ground… but after all, this is exactly what dating Luffy feels like.

White fluffy material, that feels humid and soft, surrounds both of you. And soon you understand these are clouds.

“Here!” he chimes, pouncing into the most dense of them. Nami has taught you that clouds are nothing but water in a different form, there is no way it can hold you two.

Oh, but it does. As long as Luffy can imagine it, it can.

He helps you lay your back on it, and while your naked body feels like being engulfed by the velvety sensation of such magical bedding, Luffy gets ready to place a sweet kiss on your lips.

“You told me once that being with me feels like you are in cloud nine… but since you didn’t come with us to Skypiea, I thought this could be similar to it…” he whispers, with lips pressed on yours and the sexiest smile you ever seen on his lips.

His right hand next to your face. The left one, softly caressing your cheek. Your toes pulling down his white pants, with your eyes fixed on the darkening of his sight. There is something taking over Luffy, it is perhaps lust. Or maybe something else, you can’t describe so simply.

Hardness you already recognize, playfully grazing your entrance, getting ready to slide deep inside of you.

“Can I try something else?” he asks, before entering completely into you.

“Whatever you do, I want it” you purr, with a soft smile and your index softly caressing his cheekbone scar.

His lips slowly part as he lets himself get surrounded by your clenching inner walls. A growl, manly and not often heard, escapes his lips. A moan coming from yours, mixes with his pants.

You suddenly feel like your insides going bigger, something growing deep inside you. It goes gently, hitting every corner and spot of pleasure in your body.

“Lu- Luffy… what is it?” you ask, confused but still almost unable to think straight because of how good it feels.

“You like it? It is.. ngh… me… bigger me…” he grunts, letting himself crush you with the weight of his body. The pressure around his growing member feels heavenly and he can’t even play cool no more.

His lips land on your neck, while his hips move in and out. Faster every time. Harder, deeper… bigger…

Sloppy lids frame your eyes that fix into the immensity of a sky full of stars. They shine closer to you than ever; they aren’t above, but around you this time.

Your arms hug him tightly, your heels carve on the small of Luffy’s back, your nails scratch his shoulder blades… and your hearts synchronize to the beating drums of liberation, up and above the skies 💖 ~

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @trouble-sistar 💖

#kinktober #monkey d luffy #kinktober 23 #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #luffy op #luffytaro #luffy wano #luffy headcanons #op luffy #mugiwara no luffy #luffydmonkey #luffy #one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x oc #one piece fanfic #one piece scenario #kinktober 2023 #hentober

[winterrsun]

Comfort

Reader x Daryl Dixon

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only

A/n: This is smut but it’s like the fluffiest sappiest smut, it’s meant to be really emotionally gratifying. Also I’ve really kinda half heartedly set it up for a part 2 where they reunite with the group and Rick…let me know if you think I should continue this!

Summary: after the prison fell, you and Daryl start to mourn what you’ve lost and find comfort in each other, both emotional and physical.

————————————————————————

The last couple of weeks had been such a blur. After the prison fell, you were thrown back into survival mode and all sense of security was gone. You never knew where your next meal would come from, or whether you were minutes away from death. You were grateful you’d gotten out in the company of Daryl and Beth; you’d always gotten along with both of them and Daryl was one of the most experienced survivalists. It was nice having Beth to talk to and relate to the experience as well, neither of you being natural outdoorsmen. Even if he was a grumpy ass most of the time, and she was still a bit of a bratty teenager at heart, you’d fast grown extremely reliant on both of them being around you.

You’d all found a small shack to hole up in for a couple of nights, you’d also found a stash of moonshine in the cupboard. Beth had been insistent on trying her first drink. It made you both amused and sad when you compared her experience to your teenage party years, so while Daryl disapproved you thought it was only fair to have your own little party. That’s how the three of you ended up on the living room floor, laughing your heads off.

“Really Y/N, you never been camping?!” Beth questioned incredulously.

“Yer even more a princess than I thought” scoffed Daryl.

“Yeah yeah,” you laughed, “well I suppose my whole life’s a big camping trip now.”

“Alright alright, my turn!” Daryl exclaimed. “I never… bin to a wedding”.

“You what?! Daryl that’s just sad” you said before taking a large swig of the homemade booze.

“Yeah, even I’ve been to a couple. Only other time I drank any liquor, daddy let me have a glass of champagne” said Beth.

“What part of my life was a fucking shit show before all this do you two not get” he grumbled.

You rubbed his arm, “alright we know, just teasing you” you smiled.

Beth’s giggles turned to hiccups, and she eventually lay her head down on the sofa and you realised she’d gone to sleep.

You nudged Daryl and nodded at Beth. He smiled at you, and pointed to the singular bedroom in the shack- suggesting you and he should move into the other room so as not to wake her.

The room was small; a double bed took up almost all the floor space, so you plopped yourself down on it. Daryl followed, carrying the bottle of moonshine with him. He took a sip before passing it to you, who did the same.

“She’ll be right” he gestured to the door, referring to Beth in the other room.

“I know” you replied, “we’ve all been there, she just needs to sleep it off.”

He nodded and you fell into an easy silence, both taking additional sips now and then. You grew pensive, and some of the thoughts you’d been mulling around for days started to come to the surface. The tipsy haze in your brain had your lips moving before you even knew you wanted to share what was on your mind.

“I don’t think I’ve said it,” you said, looking to Daryl, “but I’m so grateful for the two of you. The amount of times I’ve wondered what kind of state I’d be in if I was on my own…”

“Can’t be thinkin like that” he replied gently.

“I know. It’s just, it makes me mad to think about how quickly our circumstances changed. Things were so good Dar, they were finally all coming together. And then…..it’s just nothing in this world can ever really work can it?” You were rambling a little, but Daryl didn’t look like he was going to challenge you or tell you to be quiet. He just looked at you sadly.

“Do you think we’ll ever see any of them again?” You whispered to him. A tear escaped your eye and started to trickle down your cheek.

“I don’t know” he replied, and to your surprise he reached towards your face and softly wiped the tear of your cheek, “but I’m glad we’re here together too”.

He didn’t remove his hand from your face, in fact he gently cupped your chin. You leaned into it, while his head dipped closer to you and he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes and allowed the sweet sensation to wash over you.

When he pulled back away he looked unsure of himself, and mumbled a “sorry” to you.

You shook your head, placed your hands on his chest and leaned back toward him, kissing him more deeply this time. His tongue crept into your mouth and started to dance with yours.

Your hands drew up behind his neck as the two of you continued, and he reached for your waist, pulling you into his lap. The kiss grew needier as you straddled him; it wasn’t a need driven by pure sex and physical desire. It was like all the emotions you’d been feeling since the prison poured into your movements, and Daryl lapped them up and returned them with his own. You could’ve been hugging, or crying in each others arms, but instead you were kissing and writhing against each others bodies and it had the same cathartic effect.

You clung onto him as he pulled his lips away from yours briefly, to gently and slowly peel your dirty shirt up from your body. You allowed him to manoeuvre your arms overhead so he could take it off and toss it aside. He then reached around and unclasped your bra, and took a moment to stare at and admire the sight before him.

“You’re beautiful” he almost whispered, starting to run his hands over your breasts and grope them lightly. “I’m gonna take care of you Y/N, I promise”.

You were almost overwhelmed at this moment of pure bliss. You’d never thought there’d be anything sexual between you and Daryl. He was one of your best friends, with a bond like family. Sure he was hot. You’d notice his biceps peaking out of that winged vest and your heart might’ve quickened slightly every time you saw the way he gripped his motorbike handles. But you’d always just been friends.

Let alone the fact that you actually had a thing with his best friend. You and Rick had never defined whatever it was between you, but there was denying when he snuck into your cell nearly every night who you belonged to.

But Rick was gone. You didn’t know where, or if he was even alive, or if you’d ever see him again. It played on your mind every single day. You missed him so much more than all the others, longed for him. You were sick of it eating at you, and you just wanted to feel good for the first time in weeks.

You clawed at Daryl’s shirt, and he took a break from massaging your breasts to help you remove the black tee from his body. You pressed into him as your lips found his again and you relished the feeling of his skin against yours. It felt warm and unbelievably comforting. He began to rub circles on the small of your back and you arched into his touch.

“Daryl” you breathed against his mouth.

“What do you need baby?” He asked, pulling back and grabbing your face in both of his hands, eyes searching yours.

“You…I just need you” you said pleadingly.

Daryl shifted beneath you and lifted you up to flip you onto your back on the bed.

He slowly pulled your pants down and hovered over your torso, looking at your cotton panties. He dipped down and placed a soft kiss on your abdomen, creeping along your hip line. You hummed and wriggled at the tickling sensation, enjoying it. You felt a warmth envelop you from his touches. Then his fingers hooked into the elastic around your waist and pulled the fabric down from your body.

He ran his hand back up your leg, his eyes following the movements before he flitted them up to your face. You made eye contact and he sought the non verbal confirmation that you were okay. You bit your lip in anticipation as you gazed up at him, allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable under his touch. Now fully naked on the bed.

You gasped as his fingers found their way into your fold, and began to gently stroke around. You flinched slightly as he ran over your clit for the first time, and he placed a kiss back on your lips, then trailing down your neck. He began drawing circles around your sensitive nub at a steady but not too fast pace and he lifted his head back up to study your face again.

“So beautiful” he commented. You arched your back off the bed and moan softly. He picked up the pace a little and your pleasure increased.

“Daryl” you gasped, “I need more. I want all of you”.

He nodded, stroked your hair with his free hand before withdrawing them both to unbutton and remove his pants. You lowered your eyes and watched as he freed his sizeable cock from his underpants. You sat up and leaned forward, glancing up at him with doe eyes before attaching your lips to his member.

He groaned as you took him in your warm, wet mouth. You suckled and licked around it, playing with him while lubing him up for you. His hands found their way into your hair, loosely gripping it while you bobbed your head back and forth. He threw his head back and savoured the sensation.

After a little while you pulled away and he gently pushed your shoulder so you lay back on the bed. He braced himself over you and lined himself up, gazing down into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here” he whispered, hovering outside your entrance. You nudged your head up to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Me too” you said softly.

Then he slowly thrust into you. It ached just a little on the way in, but you quickly adjusted to him. For the first time in weeks you felt whole, and human, and like you were capable of something other than simply just surviving as he sank inside you.

You tensed around him and wrapped your legs around his body, which he took as a signal to start pumping his hips in and out of you. Warmth filled your body, radiating from your core to chest at the feeling of connection and intimacy. To your surprise, tears prickled your eyes as you felt emotionally stimulated as much as physically. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit onto Daryl’s shoulder, allowing his warm skin to absorb the moan that left you.

“Don’t need to keep too quiet pretty girl” he said encouragingly. You smirked and let go, noting the love bite you’d left behind before moaning out into the room this time as his hips continued to pound into you.

He pulled out briefly and you were left feeling empty and disappointed, just for him to gently grab your thigh and push your leg back towards your face, hooked behind his arm. He pushed back in and you relished the new, deeper angle.

“Fuuuck, yesss” you hissed and he smirked down at you.

“Feels good baby?” He cooed before grind his hips in a particularly deep thrust and you nodded, moaning in reply.

He picked up the pace now and you felt the heat grow in your belly, driven more by lust at this point. Your climax was building, and it was as if Daryl could tell. He drove into you faster than before, angling his hips upwards to hit just the right spot.

“Dar! I’m gonna” you began-

“I know baby, let go” he soothed.

With an almost scream you came, it rippled through you in waves and he rode it out with you. In this moment nothing else mattered, not the situation you were in, the home you’d lost, the people you’d been seperated from. It was just bliss for a perfect moment.

As your pleasure subsided Daryl snapped his hips into a few more hard times before grunting himself and moving to pull out of you.

“Don’t!” You cried without thinking, holding his hips to yours with your small hands. You felt his dick pulsate inside you as he painted your walls with his cum. It was the last, comforting gesture you wanted to take from him tonight. The feeling of him filling you up as much he possibly could.

His sweaty forehead met yours as he stopped moving, and you felt his penis jerk inside you one last time before all was still. You panted together for a few seconds, before he slowly rolled over to lay next to you.

You felt his ejaculate trickle out of you onto the bed, and groaned at the mess, grinning at him.

He looked around and grabbed a throw blanket from the end of the bed, using it to roughly wipe up you and the linen beneath you. You both chuckled, and he tossed it aside before throwing an arm around you and pulling you towards him to lay your head on his chest.

With your head on his bare skin and listening to the sound of his heart beat and the sensation of his breath rise and fall, you closed your eyes and fell asleep. He planted once last kiss to the top of your head before doing the same.

You woke with a start to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight beginning to creep in through the window, neck stiff from the angle you slept at. You felt chilly and looked down to see goosebumps over your bare body. Not just yours, you noted the extra limbs tangled with yours and remembered the situation you were in. You smiled to yourself, knowing that the amazing night was a once off for you both.

Daryl had just started to stir at your movements on the bed, before you heard movements in the other room. A female voice groaning, before stomping quick footsteps and the sound of coughing and liquid splashing the metal sink. Beth had arisen, and was experiencing her first hangover. You almost would have giggled, except you realised you had to get dressed quick and decide how to explain the two of spending the night in a small room with one double bed.

You looked back at Daryl, now fully awake and judging by the expression on his face thinking the same thing you were.

“Well, back to reality” you whispered with a shrug.

He pulled you in for one last embrace, planting a kiss firmly to your lips before whispering back “thanks for last night beautiful”.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon smut #Daryl x reader #Daryl x reader smut #Daryl Dixon x reader #daryl twd #twd Daryl #the walking dead #Daryl Dixon fic #darly Dixon x you

[cipher-the-sidhe]

Based on @pure-plum’s prompt: First gifts between Sun, Moon, and the diver.

(I also want to do that other prompt, but haven’t gotten to it 👀)

What the Tide Keeps AU, Moon-centric

word count: 1,984

You have a shelf in your apartment dedicated to the growing collection of gifts Sun has given you. A few tiny, beautiful shells he’d managed to save when they washed into his enclosure with the tide. The long, pristine flight feathers of a seagull that had gotten a little too close to the surface of the water. Then, once he’d been able to get out into open water they’d evolved. Bits of sun-bleached coral, sparking sea glass, and even a single, gleaming pearl that he’d presented to you with a look of deepest adoration.

They all sit neatly arranged, along with an over-exposed polaroid selfie you’d taken with the golden mer. It makes you smile every time you see it.

Another shelf sits blank on the other side of your bed, save for a blurry photo of your other charge taken from above, swimming through a patch of fading sunlight. Moon hasn’t seemed interested in gift-giving the way Sun is, but you feel like it’d be favoritism not to have a place for him here, the way you do his counterpart.

That’s not to say there hasn’t been progress. Moon has come a long way from the snarling, snapping creature that you’d first met. He seems to trust you now, at least. Well, for the most part. He still has a tendancy to shy away from your touch, outside of medical care, which he holds himself ridigly still for in a way that makes your heart clench in mourning for the abuse he and Sun have had ot endure.

He doens’t seem to have a probem touching you, on the other hand. Quite the opposite. Which is why you’re currently pinned under the heavy length of a rough, shark-like tail drapped over your lap, with a blue-black and silver arm wrapped around your middle, trapping your arms down at your sides. Moon has your back pressed snug against his chest and his chin resting against the top of your head, a low, constant sound somewhere between a purr and a growl vibrating his chest. You strain your neck trying to catch a glimpse at his expression. His ruby eyes are narrowed into thin, sleepy slits but you can see that his pupils are angled away from you. Well, until he senses you staring at him. Then, he glares at you with a grumble and his maw opens in a wide yawn, showing off his dual rows of razor-sharp shark teeth. He presses his chin into your hair, forcing you to look down and away from his face. You give in with a good humored huff. Best not to push your luck with him.

It’s an hour past sunrise, long past his usual bedtime. Sun has made himself comfortable on his usual flat rock near the shore of the cove, warming himself in the first golden rays of morning. You fight the urge to stroke Moon’s tail where it rests over your lap (making your legs fall asleep more every minute, but you allow it), knowing that, unlike Sun’s smoothe scales, Moon’s rough skin would cut up your hands like sandpaper. Instead, you lean your head back against him and hum softly.

“ You’re up pretty late, Moonshine. Something on your mind?”

He gives no indication that he heard you. That’s okay. You know to be patient with him.

It’s another several minutes before he responds at all, and even then it’s not with words. He shifts with arm holding you up to your shoulder, flopping backwards and taking you down with him, rolling onto his side in the sand and curling around you with a deep sigh that he muffles in your hair. His other hand in pressed in a fist against the sand, stretched out in front of the two of you.

You chuckle and pat the arm holding you in a steel trap against the midnight mer.

“Moon, honey, as cozy as this is you really shouldn’t fall asleep out of the water like this. We don’t want you getting any more sunburns.”

You keep your voice playful, but there’s an underlying concern you don’t fully manage to mask. It’s hard not to think about the weeks of painful treatment he and Sun had had to endure for the blistering sunburns they’d suffered. Moon’s had been worse by far, being a creature not meant for hours of prolonged sun exposure like his counterpart. There are still scars healing on his shoulders and back, months later.

Moon grumbles and coils closer over you, his tail fin slapping the water where it rests in an agitation you don’t understand the cause for.

“Hush,” he rasps into your hair, claws plucking thoughtlessly at the collar of your shirt in a familiar, resltess fidget.

Your brow furrows. Something is clearly bothering him, but what? You’d thought the night had gone really well, actually. From the time you’d shown up at midnight to now Moon had seemed to be in a remarkably good mood, relaxed and playful (meaning you’d gotten yanked into the water more than a couple of times, but hearing his hissing laughter had been well worth it). It wasn’t until shortly before sunrise, when he’d usually be curling up in a shaded part of the cove over a bed of soft sea grass, that he’d started acting agitated. He wouldn’t look you in the eyes, even though he became especially clingy. And while his verbal responses were usually pretty short and clipped, certianly less verbose than Sun, even that had been reduced to only one or two word replies, when he deigned to reply with words at all. He didn’t seem to be mad at you, but his sudden withdrawl is making you nervous none the less. Had you done something wrong?

You debate with yourself which is better: to relent and indulge whatever mood this is for a while longer, or to gently encourage him to talk. You don’t want to push him too much, but if you don’t nudge him now and then you don’t know if he’ll progress.

You decide to push, just a little.

You stretch your hand out towards the fist he has extended from you two and press your fingertips featherlight against the underside of his wrist in gentle encouragement.

“Moon?”

In a blink, his hand captures yours, one finger and his thumb pressing the back of your hand into the sand while the other two fingers stay curled closed. You feel the sharp edge of soemthing in his hand pressing into your palm, just barely, but you can’t focus on it for long because Moon cranes his head down and nips at your ear, sharp teeth barely scraping your skin but the clipped snap of his teeth right by your ear making you yelp anyways.

“M-Moon!”

His gravelly chuckle cast moist, salt-scented breath over your ear and blood rushes to your cheeks in a furious burn. You grumble, indignant and embarassed but secretly relieved to hear his laughter.

“That was entirely unncessary.”

“Pushy. Nosy.” His voice is a teasing purr nuzzled against the side of your head, despite his words, and he unfurls the rest of his fingers to lace his with yours, his much larger webbed hand dwarfing yours and completely obscuring the small object he presses into your palm as he drags your joined hands through the sand closer to you both.

You bite your tongue to keep from sputtering at the onslaught of unexpected affection, but you can feel your face heating more. You squeeze his hand, feeling the edges of the thing in your palm. It’s sharp, and feels triangular.

“Only a little. I was woried about you, you giant fishstick,” you huff, but the smile is audible in your voice.

Moon’s answering laugh is a raspy wheeze and you yelp, flailing a bit, as he rolls over so he’s on his back again and you’re laying right on top of him, held fast by his unrelenting grip over your waist. He grins up at you with a bear-trap maw and mischief in his sleepy crimson eyes.

You rest your chin on his chest and squint at him in suspicion.

“Whatcha got here,” you ask, giving the hand he still has entwined with his own a little shake.

His smile strains a bit at the edges, but he presses the mystery object into your palm and slide his hand away from your’s, looping it around your waist to join his other arm. His eyes soften looking at you, pupils fading until they’re almost indistinguishable from the brighter red of the rest of his eye.

“For you,” he says, blinking slowly and a little out of synch. You feel the corner of your mouth twitch into a smile at how cute his sleepy expression is before you register what he actually said.

You wrap your fingers around the little object and pull it close to inspect it. “For me?”

In your palm is a sharp, pearly shark tooth, curved and perfect and familiar. You glance back up at Moon and he flashes you a grin full of two rows of the very same kind of teeth. You mouth pops open in a little ‘o’ of surprise, lookign back and forth between the tooth in your hand and his face.

“A gift,” he expalins, and the claws on your back fidget, betraying his quiet anxiety.

You run your thumb over the smoothe, shiny surface of the tooth, admiring it. “This is one of your’s?”

Claws gently tap against your spine, and he nods, watching your reaction. You don’t need to play it up at all. You beam up at him in pure, honest delight, clasping the tooth close to your chest.

“It’s beautiful! Thank you, Moonshine.”

He only grumbles, looking away from you, but you see the way the white frills that frame his face perk up and shiver in delight, and you can hear the water stirr at the twitch of his tail fin.

Without warning, Moon shifts his grip on you and slide you off of him and into the sand, flipping so that he’s looming over you, the nightcap-like appendage on the back of his head draping over his shoulder and swaying next to your cheek with a faint glow. He grins down at you and chuckles at your surprised expression before reaching a clawed finger up and bopping you on the tip of the nose with it.

“It’s time to sleep,” he hums,  tilting his head to-and-fro so that the bulb on his appendage taps you on the cheek with each movement. You playfully bat it away and he grins.

“Nighty night, Moon.” You smile up at him, clutching his gift close to your chest.

His expression upturns and he taps his forehead against your’s (a first, and it makes your mind blue screen for a solid minute) before leaning away and pulling himself back into the water. He lashes his tail fin as he turns to go, spraying you with a splash of salt water. You sptter and toss a handful of sand after him, but you can’t stiffle your laughter. The tooth feels warm in your hand.

That night when you’re crawling into bed you glance over at the shelves you have set aside for your mers. Sun’s little treasure trove of carefully, lovingly selected gifts almost crowd out his shelf, and you heart swells with warmth and appreciation as you realize you may need to put up another shelf for his gifts. On the other side is Moon’s shelf, and sitting right in the center, right in front of the photo of him, is one of his own teeth. He’s never been much for gift-giving, for finding just the right trinkets to show his affection. But this was something of his, only his, and he gave it to you.

You fall asleep with the stupidest smile on your face.

#what the tide keeps au #what the tide keeps #mer!moon #mermaid!moon #mer!sun #mermaid!sun #moon x reader #just shameless fluff while I work on the main fic #fnaf dca #dca fandom

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 5: Your Opal Eyes Are All I Wish To See

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: this is a short chapter sorry! Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay Chapter List

It was comical, the way the cricket chirping filled in the silence as you stared at the older man. Your mouth formed the words but nothing came out, leaving you looking like a fool. You glanced between the two men, Hosea having a sympathetic look on his face. You couldn’t see Arthur, as he was behind you, but you quite honestly didn’t want to see his reaction. A sinking feeling formed in your gut. Did he know the entire time?

“I… what?” You finally found your voice, barely. You had to admit, it did make sense. You knew so little about his work, only knowing that he did distillery work, but made a surprising amount of money from it. It wouldn’t be surprising if he was actually invested in more… illegal means of work.

“If there’s a moonshine shack in the western states, then Mr. Kerrigan is tied to it. Either he owns it, supplies it, or gets a cut from it. No matter where you look, his fingers are all over it.” Hosea spoke, he and Dutch had moved closer to you now, now that they realized you wouldn’t lash out angrily at the information.

“Alright…” you took a breath. “So how does this include me?”

The two gentlemen looked surprised at your willingness, and that predatory smile returned to Dutch’s face. “You see, Arthur told us you might be willin’ to help us… deter your husband from further illegal endeavors… while we get our own cut, of course.”

At the mention of Arthur, you turned to look at him, finding him glaring at Dutch. “I thought I told you I don’t want her involved in this.”

“I know. But we couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.”

Another sinking feeling formed, this one stronger than he last, and the thought was dizzying. Did he only get close to you to secure a job?

You had to turn away from Arthur, no longer able to look at him. You didn’t think he’d be that cruel, right? Still, you couldn’t help the hurt and anger swirling in your mind. 

Silence hung in the air now, and even the crickets seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, halting their songs. “Let’s continue this conversation inside,” you said through the lump in your throat. Climbing up the stairs of the porch, you held the door open, gesturing for the men to come inside. “Go ahead and take a seat in the living room. Just take your shoes off,” you added as they entered.

Arthur stayed put, looking at you with an indistinguishable expression. He murmured your name gently, but you just shook your head. Sighing, Arthur slowly climbed the stairs, halting in front of you in the doorway. When you still didn’t look at him, he continued on inside, glancing back at you with guilt in his eyes. 

Dutch and Hosea sat on one of the couches, chatting between each other, and Arthur sat on the one beside them. They stopped their conversation when you walked in, and you shook your head, signaling for them to continue. “I’ll go get some tea,” you murmured, heading to the kitchen, and you heard them resume talking, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

You took a shaky breath once you were alone in the kitchen, bracing yourself against the countertop. You felt like you should’ve been more surprised about your husband's true business, but that wasn’t what was causing the negative emotion you weren’t feeling. Those two questions were playing on repeat in your head, and left you analyzing every moment you’d had with Arthur, questioning the authenticity of them. 

The clinking of his gun belt moving as we walked brought you back to the present. Straightening up, you grabbed the kettle, filling it with water and setting it on the stove, and began the process of boiling it. You didn’t even look at Arthur, not even when he said your name again. 

“I’ll be out in a moment,” you responded, grabbing teacups and saucers. You hated the way your hands were shaking slightly.

Arthur didn’t respond, and you thought he left, until you felt him beside you. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the proximity of his body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and that all but confirmed your thoughts.

“So you knew?” You stepped away from him, grabbing the tea leaves, strainer, and a few sugar cubes in a small bowl. Tears welled in your eyes, his silence speaking for him. You laughed bitterly. “You didn’t think that was important to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was moonshine.”

“But you knew he was doin’ somethin’ illegal.”

Again, his silence spoke volumes. “I could care less if he was breakin’ the law. I don’t care that he’s sellin’ moonshine, or whatnot. But imagine if someone found out. I mean, y’all were able to. That would wreck my family. Any credibility gone, like that. And then what? I’m married to some old sack of shit with no income who can’t help my family and who doesn’t give a damn about me!” You really tried to keep your voice down, but you still found it rose in volume as the words spewed from you. “Those two years I sacrificed, worth nothing. So I apologize for my anger, but I don’t think any of you realize how ugly this could get.”

You barely felt the tears streaming down your face, panting as you caught your breath. There was still one question that burned in the back of your mind. Finally turning to face him, he stared at you wide eyes. “You know, you’re a damn good actor, Arthur Morgan. I guess I should’ve expected that from an outlaw. For a moment, I really thought you actually cared about me.”

That seemed to get him out of whatever shocked trance he was in. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, genuinely confused. Or at least you thought it was genuine. You couldn't trust your judgment anymore.

“Don’t lie. All this, gettin’ close to me, little touches, nearly kissin’ me. It was all a ruse, wasn’t it? Just to get the money, and once you get it, you’re gonna vanish, leaving me heartbroken and alone and stuck.”

“Darlin’,” he muttered, and you scoffed. 

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that like you… like you mean it.”

“But I do mean it. I know what this looks like, but please… please don’t think that the past weeks have been fake.” Arthur slowly moved toward you, and when you didn’t back up, he continued until he was right in front of you, just like he had been a bit ago. 

“Then what should I think, Arthur?” You whispered.

“I can’t tell you that,” Arthur admitted. “But I can tell ya what you should know. You should know that I fought ‘em both on this job. You should know that I’ll make sure that nothin’ happens to you and your family. And you should know that I truly do care ‘bout you, darlin’. More than I can put into words.”

The kettle whistled, but it was all background noise to you. You also noticed the way Dutch and Hosea had ceased their conversation, blatantly eavesdropping on the two of you. You didn’t care. All that mattered was the man in front of you. It was hard to stay upset at him though, when he was looking at you so fondly, so softly. 

“You mean it?”

Arthur smiled a bit, relieved. “I do.” You felt him bring his hands up to your face, gently brushing away the tears. “I hate seein’ you cry. And I hate that I was the reason why.” He held you for a few moments, and you felt the tears subside, your cheek only slightly damp. 

The kettle’s noise finally registered in your brain, and you gestured to it with your head. “Mind takin’ that off for me?” You croaked out, voice still recovering. 

Without another word, Arthur did as you asked, the annoying noise disappearing. You grabbed  the teacups with their saucers and set them on a tray, along with the other components needed. You walked past him with the tray in your hands, heading to the living room. You walked with the confidence of someone that wasn’t just crying, and you prayed that your eyes weren’t puffy.

“Go ahead and bring that kettle with you,” you called over your shoulder.

Setting the tray on the coffee table, you took the kettle from Arthur. Pouring out cups for each of the men, you sat once you’d finished, leaving the kettle in reach of the men. Sitting across from them, you observed them preparing their drinks, and Arthur stood around, not quite sure where to sit. Moving over, you patted the cushion next to you with a soft smile. 

With an equally soft expression, he sat next to you, and you resisted the urge to burrow yourself in his side. “Mrs. Kerrigan, thank you for inviting us into your home-”

You cut Dutch off with a light laugh. “No need to be so formal. We’re alone, ain’t we?”

“That we are,” Dutch agreed. “Should we get straight to the point, then?” You nodded. “As we said, Mr. Kerrigan runs the moonshine business in this part of the States. As you were made aware, we ain’t exactly upholders of the law, so we ain’t exactly looking to stop him. We only wish to sabotage him a bit. Attack his supplies on the road, destroy a few of his distilleries. That way, he starts looking for guns to hire. And that’s where Arthur and the rest come in. We’ll offer our services, protect his goods, and we’ll get paid.”

“Alright, that sounds like a decent enough plan, but how does this involve me?” You watched Dutch set the drink down on the tray, halfway drunk.

Hosea spoke now. “We have no idea where anything is at. We have no idea where the caravans are, where the shacks are, who he gets his supplies from. Nothing. We need you to get information for us.”

“You’ll probably have better luck doin’ it yourself, to be honest. He tells me nothin’.”

“We know that. We’re talking about physical evidence. Letters, logbooks, stuff like that.”

“That’ll probably be in his office, but I ain’t got access to that. Again, why don’t you go ahead and just break in yourself and I’ll just, I dunno, not pay attention.”

Hosea sighed. “Because the man sitting beside you would kill us if we broke into your house.”

So that’s what he meant when he said that you weren’t to be messed with. 

You still didn’t think that they needed your help, but a new thought had you grinning. “Are… are y’all askin’ for my permission to rob my house and husband by havin’ me do it myself?”

“In a backwards way, yes,” Hosea conceded, and you snorted. “Arthur did also say you might be interested in… getting back at Mr. Kerrigan, in some way.” It was Hosea’s turn to set the cup down, this one completely empty. You noticed that Arthur hadn't made a move for his own cup, which sat steaming where you’d set it. 

You had to admit, the thought was appealing, and you told them that. “It’s just, I’m afraid how this might end up affecting my family. What if he stops sendin’ my them money ‘cause he doesn’t want to lose more?” 

Dutch and Hosea looked at you, confused. That’s when you realize you said too much; the only person beside you to know what was actually going on with your family was Arthur. It did mean that he had upheld his promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone else, though, and you were grateful for that. Still, you explained to the two men your situation, withholding details you deemed they didn’t need to know. 

“I see,” Hosea shifted in his seat, giving you a sympathetic look. “We can’t promise that he won’t stop sending money, but we don’t plan on asking for a significant sum. Just enough to… help us.”

“And I want to help you, too. But you have to understand where my priorities lie. The minute he even debates ceasing his help to my family, then this is done. You stop attackin’ his supplies, his shacks, everything.  If I find out you’re continuing afterwards, then I will be involvin’ the law.”

Hosea nodded, content with your response. “So you’re willing to help us?”

I want to help Arthur. You nodded, and Dutch extended out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure doin’ business with you, Mrs. Kerrigan.”

You took his hand, shaking it. “You too, Mr. Van Der Linde.” 

You could feel Arthur’s eyes on you, unknowing that you knew what his last name was. You weren’t stupid. As soon as Arthur began to talk about the group that he associated with, it was pretty easy to link them to the Van Der Linde gang that's been headlining the newspapers Hans read. You didn’t mind the headlines; you knew this world was vicious, you had to do what you had to do to survive and protect your way of life. Maybe in another life, you’d be with them, escaping the confines of “civilized” life. 

Dutch raised a brow. “Are there gonna be issues in the future, Mrs. Kerrigan?” You knew there was a threat under the disguise of a question, and you smiled sweetly.

“As long as you keep your end of the deal, then we won’t have an issue. I promise.”

The tension dissipated from the room instantly, and Arthur visibly relaxed in your peripherals. Hosea leaned into Dutch’s ear, speaking too quietly for you to make out, and you felt him drop your hand. “Now, I believe that it’s a good time to mention that Hans will be arriving back any day now. He had eyes on him during his travels, and last we saw he was in Valentine, heading back to Rhodes.”

You expected his trip to Tumbleweed to have taken significantly longer than that, but you realized that he was most definitely not there, probably somewhere in New Hanover instead. “I appreciate that. I’ll… I’ll try to get the information to you as soon as I can, but don’t expect it when he’s home. I can’t tell you how long that’s gonna take, so be patient.”

“We have all the time in the world,” Dutch reassured, but even you could tell that he was lying through his teeth. 

“Good. Now, was there any other business we wished to discuss?” 

“Not today. Thank you for the tea, ma’am.” Hosea smiled at you, and you were surprised to find how genuine it seemed. Out of Dutch and Hosea, you liked the gray haired man more. But maybe that was all a trick, you were talking to the leaders of the most silver-tongued gang in the States. 

“It was my pleasure. Arthur, go ahead and wait down here. I’ll get that payment for you.” Without another word, you stood, collecting the tray and the different components. First dropping those off in the kitchen, you then made your way upstairs. You saw the three of them still in the living room, chatting amongst themselves as they got ready to leave. You failed to notice the way Arthur’s eyes trailed after you, Hosea and Dutch exchanging a look between each other. 

Entering your room, your hands shook as you grabbed the money. It was ten dollars this time, payment for last time and today. You would be a liar if you said you weren’t scared to do what you were about to do. You’d never done anything that even hinted on being against the law, at least now knowingly. But you’d also be lying if the thought of it didn’t excite you, doing something to get back at Hans for the two years of hell. 

The other reason your hands shook made his presence known with a light knock on your open bedroom door. Snapping your head over at him, startled, he stood in the doorway, leaning with his arms crossed. In the dim light, you could only see his silhouette, unable to make out any expression on his face. It had your heart beating, even more so when he slowly made his way into the room. 

“How long have you known?”

“That you run with the Van Der Linde gang?” You shrugged. “Since you showed me the drawings.”

Arthur just hummed. “I don’t mind, you know,” you continued. 

“You should,” Arthur countered. 

“Why?”

“Because we ain’t good men, darlin’.”

“I dunno. From what I’ve seen, y’all are better than most.” 

Arthur didn’t respond, unable to disagree with your statement. Tucking the lockbox back into its hiding spot, you met him halfway, holding out the bills for him to grab. He looked down at them, then back up at you. “You don’t gotta pay me anymore.”

Was… was he stopping his visits? Did he lie to you earlier? Dejected, you tossed the money on the bed, taking a step away from him. “So you’re not comin’ back, then?”

“I never said that. I only said you don’t gotta pay me.”

“Why?”

“You sure are askin’ that a lot tonight,” Arthur teased. “Would you believe me if I said your company is payment enough?”

“I’m sure my company is incredible,” you scoffed. “Sad married woman in the woods, nothin’ interesting’ ‘bout her besides being rich.”

“Are you callin’ me a liar, then?” Arthur challenged.

You almost wish you could. It would make things so much simpler. Instead, you found yourself shaking your head. “Why do you keep comin’ back?”

The atmosphere of the conversation shifted when you asked that question. The conversation had started out almost confrontational, but now it was shifting to something more… tender. 

“I can’t get you outta my head, darlin’. Every single thought I have is of you. Even in my dreams, you’re in them. I can’t stop comin’ back to you, it’s like I’m fuckin’ addicted to you. And just when I think I’ve got it under control, you take my breath away with one of ‘em gorgeous smiles, those soft touches, those shy glances, and I’m hooked again.”

Arthur had closed the distance between your bodies sometime during his little speech, large hands grasping your hips with surprising gentleness. One of them danced up your body, caressing your side, then over your arm, causing you to shiver. You could see him smirk, loving the way you responded. 

He eventually settled on your jaw, tilting your head back lightly. His eyes were dark, but you felt warm under his attentive gaze. Your lips parted, a small gasp leaving them. “Beautiful,” he murmured, almost awestruck, before his mouth was finally on yours. They were soft and overwhelming and they felt like home, and you felt yourself immediately melting against him. It was almost hard to believe that he was an outlaw with how gentle he was being. 

He pulled you in closer, and you wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders, your other hand cradling his cheek. His beard prickled the delicate skin, but it just led you to think about what that would feel like elsewhere. 

The way he kissed you was gentle, but the tightening grip on your hip and jaw was telling you he was quickly losing the battle with his restraint. Before you could push him further and lead to something more, he broke away, resting his head against yours. At least, as well as he could, his hat mostly got in the way. 

Joy unlike anything you’d ever felt bubbled inside of you, escaping you in a small laugh. You’d just kissed Arthur Morgan, the man you thought was unobtainable. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you confessed, breathless.

“Me too, darlin’.”

He moved a bit, kissing your forehead, before resting his chin atop your head. One of his hands cradles your head to his chest, the other wrapping around your waist. Neither of you said anything, simply savoring the moment, and Arthur rocked you slowly. Taking a deep breath, it was mostly the scent of him that filled your senses, making your head spin even more.

He held you like that for a few moments, until you heard the voice of Dutch break the bubble the two of you had created. “Arthur! We’re leaving!” 

You felt him sigh, leaning his head back to look at you again. “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright, Arthur.” You wanted nothing more than to have him stay with you, but he had responsibilities. You couldn’t fault him for that. “Just… kiss me again?”

He chuckled, holding both sides of your face now. “Don’t gotta ask me twice,” he whispered before reconnecting your lips, a pleased sigh leaving you. Fingers curled against your head as he deepened the kiss, pulling away when he heard his name getting yelled again. 

You chuckled “Go. Before they come up here.”

With one final short kiss, Arthur pulled away, walking backwards to the doorway, eyes not leaving you for a second. “Have a good night, darlin’,” you heard him say before he went to turn, about to head downstairs.

“Wait.”

He did, almost immediately, turning his head to look at you with confusion on his face. You really weren’t quite sure what you were about to say, but you needed to say something to him. “Come back to me, alright?” It wasn’t what you really meant to say, but it would have to do for now.

“Always,” he responded with a smile, before vanishing from the doorway. You heard the sound of the stairs creaking as he headed downstairs, the voices of Hosea and Dutch audible soon after. Eventually, you heard them leave, leaving you in stunned silence. 

Another light laugh of disbelief left you, holding your fingers to where Arthur’s lips had been. Everywhere burned where he’d touched you, and your whole body felt like it was on fire. The whole meeting with Dutch and Hosea had practically vanished from your mind, the only thing playing on repeat was the way his lips felt, the way he held you, the words he uttered.

Those memories continued to repeat themselves as you got ready for bed, your thin nightgown doing little to cool you off. They caused you to lay awake in your bed, tossing and turning for what felt like hours. The heat hadn’t subsided one bit, and you groaned frustratedly, sleep coming nowhere near you. 

Getting out of bed, the cold floor felt nice against your bare feet, but it wasn’t enough. You debated grabbing a cigarette, the lighter Arthur had given you in your hands but you decided against it. For once, you didn’t want to forget the way someone’s hands were on you, and so you placed the lighter back into your nightstand.

Still, you stepped outside, the air of the night cooling your skin. Your mind still raced with thoughts of Arthur, but you were cooling down. Eventually, the air caused goosebumps to appear on your skin, and you took that as your sign to try and go back to bed.

Like you always had to, you had to pass the locked door of Hans’ office, and you finally remembered the meeting you had that night. Setting your hand on the doorknob, you debated trying to get in right then, but you realized you had no idea how. You didn’t know how to pick a lock, and breaking it down would be difficult and obvious. A problem for later, then. 

Getting back under the covers, you felt better than you had the first time you went to bed. Sleep was closer now, and as you turned on your side, about to succumb to unconsciousness, you saw the empty side of the bed. 

How you longed for Arthur to be there instead. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You didn’t wake up alone. 

It took a moment for your sleep-addled mind to realize that, nearly turning over and going right back to bed. But when it clicked, you nearly bolted out of bed, dread and sadness chasing away the happiness that came from your dreams of Arthur. 

Hans was asleep next to you, his suitcases stacked in the corner of the room, snoring lightly as he slept. You knew he had to come back eventually, but it still wrecked you. Getting out of the bed as quietly as you could, you snuck downstairs, not ready to face reality yet. 

You paced around your kitchen, running your hands through your hair. You weren’t ready to put on the act again. You weren’t ready to pretend like you were content being Mrs. Kerrigan. You weren’t ready to pretend like Arthur hadn’t just kissed you last night. 

Groaning, you slumped against one of the counters, burrowing your head in your arms. That familiar feeling of guilt returned, but you fought it. You weren’t hurting anyone, being sweet on Arthur like you were. It’s not like your husband actually loved you, so you doubt he’d be too upset. He’d be more upset that something that was ‘his’ was ‘being used’ by someone else. Besides, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. 

And if you were happy, who was to tell you that that was bad?

Standing up, you rolled your shoulders, forcing a smile on your face. You could do this, you told yourself. This wasn’t any different than the last two years. Just suck it up and pretend. And then before you’d know it, Hans would be gone again. 

You got to work cleaning up the kitchen from last night, washing the dishes used by the guests last night. Next, you started making breakfast, the smell of it probably being the reason Hans woke, walking downstairs blearily. 

He sat in his chair at the dining table, and you served him a glass of coffee with a soft ‘good morning’. He didn’t respond, just sipping on the steaming beverage. It was hard to not look at him in a different light, now that you knew what he was really getting up to behind closed doors. But you kept your face impassive, heading back into the kitchen before the food burned.

Eventually, you served him his food, and you sat in your respective seat, much farther than you had with Arthur. He didn’t even acknowledge your presence, assumedly too tired to do so. “Sorry for wakin’ you,” you apologized, and he grunted. 

“How was your trip?” You tried to engage him in a conversation, but were immediately shut down with a glare. All right, then. It took everything in you not to laugh at him. I mean you weren’t a morning person either, but at least you didn’t treat others like this. What an ass. 

You turned your attention back to your plate, poking at it with your fork, appetite now gone. The two of you ate in complete silence, the only sounds being your silverware against the china and the scratch of your chair against the floor as you stood to refill his cup. 

About fifteen minutes passed before Hans left the table, leaving his dishes for you to take care of. You didn’t have to look up to know where he was going, and you heard the sound of his office door shut moments later. When you confirmed that you were alone, you sighed, tired of just pushing the food around your plate. 

You found that you desperately missed Arthur’s warmth, both physically and emotionally. The house seemed to agree with you; it had never felt so comforting, him being there making it so. Now it felt like a prison, your only company the memories of the last weeks. 

You stared at the now empty seat across from you, forcing yourself to eat a few bites of breakfast, hating when you wasted food. You found that you were glad you agreed to Dutch and Hosea’s scheme; you were excited to make Hans hurt. 

But for now, you had to push those plans out the window. You couldn’t do anything right now, at the risk of you getting caught. All you could do now was play his little housewife and wait for the moment that Arthur’s lips were back on yours.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

[fireinmoonshot]

can i please just get something with worried/protective bradley??

“Don’t freak out,” Natasha starts as soon as Bradley answers the call. “But Moonshine is in the medical center. They asked me to call you and tell you and said there’s no reason for you to worry, they just wanted you to know.”

“What sort of accident?” He asks, already searching for his car keys.

Natasha can hear the worry in his voice. “It’s nothing to worry about, Rooster.”

“If it’s not, then you’ll tell me what happened,” he says, pulling on his boots with difficulty, considering one of his hands is occupied with holding the phone to his ear. “So tell me.”

There’s no way Bradley is going to let Natasha hang up without an answer, and she knows that as well. So, sighing, she relents. “We’d just landed and I don’t know what happened exactly, but when we got out they suddenly felt really lightheaded and nearly fainted. I managed to catch them in time, and they didn’t actually faint.”

Bradley opens the car door and shoves his key into the ignition. “I’m on my way.”

“No, you don’t–” 

Natasha is cut off by Bradley hanging up on her. She sighs and walks back into the medical center, heading over to your bed where you’re lying, a cool cloth over your forehead. 

“I told him not to come, but he’s coming anyway. I’m sorry, Moonshine, but I guess there’s no stopping Rooster when he gets his head set on something,” she admits.

You chuckle a little, but even just doing that sends a pain shooting through your head. “Yeah, I should have expected that, honestly. But he’d worry more if I didn’t tell him. Thank you for calling him for me, Nat.” 

She tells you it’s no problem and then excuses herself to go back to work. Even though she wants to stay, she has things that she needs to do and can’t spend all her time sitting with you and waiting for Bradley to show up – and she knows that when he does, you’ll be in good hands.

Bradley makes it to you in record time, finding a park and running into the base, heading towards the medical center and stopping for no one. When he steps through the door and sees you, his heart crumbles in his chest.

“Angel, what happened?” He asks, sitting down on the chair beside your bed and taking your hand in his. Your eyes had been closed, trying to dull the throbbing in your head, so you hadn’t noticed him coming into the room.

You smile at the sight of him once your eyes adjust to the light. “You know you didn’t have to come all the way here, Bradley. You had things you were planning to do today!”

He shakes his head. “No, not when Phoenix calls me and tells me you’re hurt.”

“I’m not hurt, not really,” you give his hand a squeeze. “I’m afraid to tell you that the doctor thinks it’s just a really bad migraine, probably caused by the combination of a lack of water, sleep and flying earlier today.” 

Bradley squeezes your hand back. “That sounds like being hurt to me.”

“I’m definitely going to live, though, so you can go home, Bradley,” you smile.

There is no moving Bradley Bradshaw from your side, though. He has no plans to go home any time soon until you’re coming home alongside him, completely cured from your migraine. 

“Not happening, angel,” he says. “Is there anything I can do? You’ve had painkillers?”

You hum. “As soon as I got in here they gave me the good ones. It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, I promise, so–”

“No matter how much you try and convince me, I’m still not going anywhere.” He brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to your palm. “Why don’t you close your eyes and try and get some rest? I’ll stay here until you wake up.”

There was no use trying to convince him anymore. You could see that now. The man was so devoted to you that he was willing to stay by your side doing nothing while you slept off a migraine. “I’m counting on you to still be here when I wake up, then.”

“I’ve got nowhere else I’d rather be, angel.”

#bradley bradshaw #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

Murph: You hear a crackly voice on loop, sending out a message to not only this channel, but likely other members of the Astral Alliance. And, Emily, [Emily laughs, the other players gasp] would you like to, um, tell me what that message is? Jake, quietly: What? Oh, fuck. Emily: So, essentially, what you hear, Hardwon, is a distress signal from Moonshine. [Static effect comes in, continues through Moonshine's message] Moonshine (Emily), desperately gasping for air as she speaks: Hardwon? I don't know if you're... I don't know if you’re out there, but Gruumsh-- he’s, he’s getting stronger than ever. And-- and we’re doing the best we can in Isgard, but they’ve got us backed into Kord’s great hall. And Kord-- Hardwon-- Kord has been wounded. So, I think if-- I don’t know where you went to, but-- if… if you can come back? Things, things are bad, [close to tears] I think we’ve only got maybe another week. Oh I-- I gotta go! Hardwon, please! [Static cuts out] Hardwon (Jake): Uh-- Hello? Hello? I'm coming! Moonshine! Moonshine! Hello? [The other players laugh] Murph: You pick up the transmitter and her channel is off. [Clip cuts forward] Jake: Hardwon just starts pacing with his hand on his head, he's like hitting himself in the side of the head. Hardwon: Fuck Kenna (Murph): You okay Mr. Surefoot? Sol (Caldwell): Hardwon? Callie (Emily): What was that? Hardwon, desperate: Uh-- Kenna, yeah, no. They um, they need me. Um-- Yeah. They need me in the Astral Plane. Moonshine needs me. Beverly needs me. We have to-- Callie: Okay, okay-- [Clip cuts forward. As Hardwon speaks, Twinkling Lights of Galaderon starts playing.] Hardwon: Okay. Moonshine, um, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left, but that’s... that’s not important. I’m-- I hear you. I’m coming, girl. Tell Beverly that I’ll be there soon. You guys... you can hold your own and… and I won’t think of myself as a liability ever again. Ciao. Or bye. Or later. Whatever. See you soon. [Clip cuts forward] Emily: Can I— Can Moonshine respond? Murph: Yeah. [Twinkling Lights of Galaderon comes back in. The static returns when Moonshine speaks.] Emily: It’s just a quick message, and it’s really quiet, and she says: Moonshine: Hardwon. It’s damn good to hear your voice, and it’ll be even better to see your face. Get here. Emily: That’s all. Murph: And the static breaks up. Jake: Hardwon… smiles. [Heavy exhale]

Alternate title: c3e41 but specifically the parts that absolutely broke me to pieces

#naddpod #naddpod spoilers #hardwon surefoot #moonshine cybin #hanbles #naddclips

[uwingdispatch]

Wayward Evenings

Notes: Ezra Bridger/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader

CW: alcohol consumption, the aftermath of alcohol consumption, implied sexual intimacy

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

You hadn’t expected to spend your evening holding your husband’s hair back in the refresher. In fact, you’d had other plans. But when Hondo was in town…you’d learned to expect this kind of thing. Perhaps it was your mistake to try and do tonight any other way, but you’re still annoyed that Ezra is just so…Ezra when it comes to the former pirate. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” you tell him. Ezra is leaning against a cabinet on the floor doing his best to stay upright. Despite your irritation, you’re right there with him, smoothing his sweat-slicked hair away from his face. “Every time,” you say. “It’s like you’re incapable of making good decisions around that man.”

“I think you’re onto something there, sunshine,” he says. “But can we talk about it tomorrow? I feel like I’m going to die right now.”

You let out a deep sigh. “Sure,” you say. “If you promise to never drink pirate moonshine again.”

“It was made on Batuu, so technically it’s moons-shine.”

“You know what? I’m just going to leave.”  You have no intention of leaving.

“I’ll never touch that shit again,” he says. “For you, of course.” And then wretches again. 

An hour ago someone at the cantina had called you to come get your idiot husband. They normally would have called Sabine—she was more physically capable of dragging Ezra out of a bar and throwing him into a speeder—but she’s been off planet for the past few weeks and that left you and your droid to come coax Ezra out of the building and get him home. 

“I know you had plans,” he says. “I’m so sorry,”

“Too drunk to stand up,” you say, “before the sun’s even fully set!”

“I guess I was just feeling ambitious.”

“When they called me to come get you they were worried you were going to try and fight a Dowutin. Over an insult to Hondo’s ‘honor.’”

“I would never actually—” 

“If you weren’t who you are you might have gotten arrested.”

“I know.” 

“Ezra, I love you, but I really don’t love this.” 

Even still, you’re rubbing his back, holding him steady. There are people you meet at a certain age and somehow, whenever they’re around, you become that age again. You understand this. It just doesn’t make your current predicament any less frustrating..

C2-B35 rolls in grumbling and hands you fresh towels, which you pass off to Ezra, who seems to be regaining his balance as he stands, the nausea abating.

“I think the worst is over, Cee,” Ezra says.

Ceetoo, being a therapy droid ultimately concerned with your wellbeing, chirps and whirrs—a curse-ridden message for Ezra that you don’t bother acknowledging. Because despite her vitriol, the little astromech has been monitoring his vitals since the two of you picked him up earlier. 

“Get cleaned up,” you say. “Is there anything you need?”

“You’re too good to me,” he says. “But all I need is you.”

In the kitchen, inhaling a bowl of leftover pasta, you remind yourself that this is not a regular occurrence. You hear the shower running and feel a bit of relief knowing you’ve moved on to the part of the evening where Ezra can take care of himself. Which means the vomiting is over. And given how much of that had gone on earlier, you’re pretty sure he meant it when he said he’d swear off Hondo’s moonshine.

When he emerges he’s wearing just a pair of gray lounge pants and a soft red robe—yours—left open. 

Ceetoo is nearby watering her plants and in a series of beeps and whistles she asks if she needs to still be monitoring Ezra. 

“I’m good, Cee,” he says. “I just need to rest. And make up for…all of this.”

He slips his arms around your waist and nuzzles your neck before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Feeling better?” you ask.

“Eh…mostly.”

“Still a little drunk?”

“A little.”

You take his face in your hand, brushing your thumb over his cheek before tucking a few wayward curls, still wet from the shower, behind his ear. He leans in as if to kiss you and you stop him. “Not before you drink that water,” you say, pointing to a large glass on the kitchen counter. “All of it.”

“And then?”

You shrug.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sunshine,” he says, his voice low, his lips almost touching your ear.

You reply: “I know.”  

***

You’d been dating Ezra for six months when you first met Hondo. Ezra had described the old Weequay as “kind of like an uncle, but not the kind of uncle you call in an emergency…unless it’s like a real emergency, he’ll show up for that.”

And after a night out with Ezra’s “uncle” you wondered if you really knew who you were dating. It wasn’t that the liquor had changed his personality, or even that Hondo had. You just hadn’t seen this side of him before.

“I think I overdid it,” he said.

“You did.”

“I should have warned you.”

“Ezra,” you said. “I don’t know if there’s any way to warn someone that one of your dearest friends is the kind of person who thinks axe-throwing while drunk is a good idea.” 

You were walking a rather tipsy Ezra home after what you had thought would be a casual dinner with a quirky family friend. But that was not how time with Hondo would ever go. You’d threatened to leave over the whole axe-throwing throwing thing, but stayed a while when Ezra reluctantly backed down from the challenge.

“I forget that Ezra Bridger cannot hold his liquor,” Hondo had said. “I would do anything for this boy, but he would have made a terrible pirate.” 

Ezra looped his arm around your waist and sighed. “With Hondo,” Ezra said, “sometimes it feels like I can go back in time. Like…”

“Like all the time you lost while you were away didn’t happen?”

“You get it,” he said. “Of course you get it.”

“I don’t know if I get it, but I think I know what you’re saying.”

Ezra never got to go through a wild phase—not the way most people did as young adults. Hondo, however, seemed to make space for the chaotic teenager in anyone. Which maybe under other circumstances might have been fine, but Ezra’s limit was usually a pint or two of ale. Tonight there had been Correllian wine. And then shots of something that smelled like explosives.

Just outside of his house now, Ezra mumbled, “I would have been a great pirate.” 

You swiped his key card to open the front door and, as soon as he could get to it, he flopped into his bed. 

You sighed, watching Ezra struggle to take off his socks. “I’m sure you would have been legendary.”

“Legendary!” he repeated.

You got ready for bed, using the items of yours that had started to collect in the refresher. Some you’d left at Ezra’s place over the last few months. Others Ezra had bought for you, wanting you to feel welcome and at home with him. He called your name, and you went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, knowing he’d be feeling this in the morning if he didn’t at least try to hydrate.

“Come here,” he said. “Let me hold you.”

When you joined him in bed, he pulled you toward him, undressed now, his skin warm against yours. “I don’t usually drink like this,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen you this intoxicated before.”

“That’s on purpose,” he said. “I can’t believe I let myself…you know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Drink the water,” you told him.

“I will,” he said. “Hey. Hey…can you look at me?”

You tuck his hair behind his ear, let your fingers trail down his neck and along his jawline. “I’ve been looking at you this whole time.”

“I’m just so glad you came out with me tonight. I know Hondo is a lot, but he’s family.”

“He’s probably not too fond of me.”

“Are you kidding? He loved you.”

“Really?”

“How could he not, sunshine?” he said. And after a pause, “Do you know how important you are to me? How much I love you?”

It was the first time either of you had said these words to the other. And you hadn’t expected to hear them as a drunken confession. “Ezra, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“It’s okay. Just…tell me again when you’re sober.”

“I will.”

He pulled you close and you rested your head on his chest, breathing deeply. He smelled of sweat and alcohol, of course. But also of him. Of a man you’d very much fallen in love with. Sometimes you thought you’d fallen in love with him the day you’d met. But you’d held those words back, wondering sometimes whether Ezra Bridger was the type to settle down. 

But now, there was something about the way he stroked your hair as he started to doze off. And when he said “I’ll tell you I love you every day for as long as you’ll have me,” tipsy or not, you believed him.

***

You’re in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of caf when you hear Ezra stumbling down the hallway, followed by the loth-cats that had been sleeping at his feet.

“You’re never up this early,” he says.

His hair is wild, and he’s wearing a robe—his this time—and not much else. You don’t need to tell him he’s a mess. He knows. And he knows how he got here.

“There’s no Jedi trick for hangovers,” you say. “Or at least that’s what you’ve lead me to believe.”

You put a plate of eggs and two headache tablets on the table and he sits, a look of defeat in his big blue eyes.

“I’d been hoping to make you breakfast today,” he says. “I really kriffed things up last night.”

Ceetoo comes in the front door carrying a shopping bag, looks straight at Ezra and starts grumbling in binary.  

“I know,” he says. “I’m profoundly aware of this. Can you please lower your volume?”

You bring two cups of caf to the table and sit beside Ezra. A man who’s stayed up with you through countless nights when your chronic pain was at its worst. Who makes a point of bringing you your favorite tea anytime you have a particularly bad migraine. A man who, when you’d first met, lived on the opposite side of town—but when he found out how difficult your anxiety could get, he started making that long drive to you any time you were struggling and he thought he could help.

He did kriff up last night. But you can’t find it in yourself to hold it against him. “It was a rough night,” you say. “But it’s behind us.” 

Sipping his caf he says, “Thank you, love.” 

“You would do the same for me.”

“I don’t mean the breakfast. I mean, I do. But you deserve better than a grown man who can’t get his shit together for one night so you can go out with your friends.”

There’s something sheepish about him as he takes your hand, and you see the “boy” Hondo always refers to when he talks about Ezra, despite his being in his forties. 

“You have your shit remarkably together ninety-nine percent of the time, Ezra,” you say. “I can make new plans. And you were sick enough yesterday that I think that might be punishment enough.”

Ceetoo grumbles as she brings you a plate of sliced fruit. She’d happily gone to the store for you but had been less than enthusiastic about it when you told her the fruit was for Ezra—she could hold a grudge as well as any organic. But you reminded her of how many times he’d been there for the two of you, and that if you could forgive him for one ruined night, she could, too. 

As she’s leaving the kitchen she beeps and whistles: try not to barf.

Ezra laughs. “I’m so glad she doesn’t actually hate me,” he says. “Though sometimes I wonder.”

You sit in silence for a while, listening to the wind blowing a tree branch into the window outside, the birds singing in the garden. And you remember planting that garden with Ezra when you first moved into this house, how you reminded him again that you probably wouldn’t be able to help much with maintaining the garden because of your chronic pain. And he’d taken your hands and told you that he didn’t expect anything of you other than that you being in his life. That just you being here, making a home together—that was enough. He’d wiped the tears from your cheeks when you began to cry, your heart so full it was spilling over.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Better now that I’ve eaten, actually.”  

He gives your hand a squeeze before you get up to feed the two tooka cats who have gathered under the table, nipping at your feet. One you’d had when you met Ezra—the other was a three-legged stray Ezra had found living in an alley behind his work, far too friendly to be a street cat. You nearly trip over the little guy as you turn to put the kibble away, only to be steadied by Ezra—you hadn’t even realized he’d gotten up from the table.

“Hey,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

“I was fine,” you insist.

He smiles. “Sure.”

His grin is infectious, and soon you have your arms around his neck, unable to stifle the smile on your own face. He ghosts his fingers along your cheek, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip for a moment before leaning in to kiss you, slow and lingering.

“You can make me dinner tonight,” you tell him. 

“And in the meantime?”

You can’t imagine he’s recovered that quickly. But Ezra is always full of surprises. So when he leads you back to the bedroom you follow. He discards your clothing in the hall, piece by piece as you stumble over each other, a feeling of lightness filling you as he kisses your forehead, your nose, your neck before you tumble into bed. And when you find yourself beneath the sheets with Ezra, you’re thinking about how seamlessly he fit into your life, from the very beginning. And now, how perfectly your bodies fit together, his deft hands finding exactly where and how you love to be touched. 

He whispers in your ear: “Let me make this up to you.”  

And you melt into him, your fingers lacing into his hair as he kisses you deeper, a spark of electricity running through you as if it were the first time he’d ever kissed you. 

“You still owe me dinner,” you tell him.

“I’ll give you anything,” he says, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. “Anything you want,” he says, “it’s yours.”

And, if only because he’d never once given you a reason not to, you believe him. 

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! Once again I am here to be a gremlin about Ezra Bridger somehow growing up to be Blorbo. I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.) In the meantime, I’m tagging my taglist as well as some folks who have been reblogging my fics. Love y’all!

@writingbylee @waterpancakeao3 @princessxkenobi @zinzinina @aerynwrites @belfry-bat @phoenixhalliwell @r1-sw-lover @laserbrains @darthanakn @lovedbyth3sun @usernamesarebitches @maul-ologue @operation-spot @writeforfandoms @akgracemk @littlemousedroid @strwrs @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @galaxtic-writings @mintpurplemnm @againstacecilia @elasticreality@zombiedixon89 @forresway @sith-as-heck @alistocats @favficss @themandadolorian @ginger-swag-rapunzel @iamsuchanasshat @vvpoisonous @saradika @islandfrogeery @boba-brasso-bee @groguspawbeans @fluffyprettykitty @mischiefqueer @wretchedmo @wyn-n-tonic @dystopicjumpsuit @1vlouds @lucypaulette @x-0ophelia0-x @densenubi @dolphincommander @glass-soup @cosmictearsfall

#middle-aged ezra bridger #ezra bridger #ezra bridger x reader #ezra bridger x gn reader #ezrabridger x gn!reader #adult ezra bridger #ahsoka series #ahsoka series fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars rebels #and a loth-cat because I can #disabled reader #chronic illness #hurt/comfort #just a little domestic fluff #and a first meeting #comfort reads #the fluffiest fluff #tw: alcohol #drunk!ezra #soft!ezra #uwingwriting

[violetlunette]

Our stalker hero, Yuu Hoo, has been out of commission for a while now! Where is he? Why is no longer following Silver like a sick puppy? Stay tuned and find out! TWST Spoilers for Lost in a Book with Stitch twst event (part of this series)

~Lost in a book at a Beach~ Yuu: So, what you’re saying is that after we got sucked into a book, we ended up on an island far, far away from my Silver-- Lilia: He’s not yours. Yuu: --far away from my Silver, and the only way to get back is to make a deal with Octoboy here? Azul: Weird out-of-nowhere sum up, but pretty much. Azul: So! Do you wanna make a deal, Yuu? Yuu: Nah, I’m good. I’m not leaving as something as important as getting back to Silver to you. Step aside. Ace: O-OI! Are you stretching?! Jack: Don’t be foolish! Even Grim knows it’s impossible! Grim: Hey! Are you making fun of me?! Yuu: Bah! Don’t underestimate the power of love! Azul: Is it really love? Yuu, ignoring him: C’mon, Grim, we’re heading back! Hold on, Moonshine, I’m coming! Grim: MWAHH?! Me too?! Yuu: *Dives in* Jack: He’s actually swimming?! Ace: He didn’t even take his clothes off! Riddle: That idiot! Yuu: *swimming with screaming Grim on back* Hold on, Moonshine! I’ll be there soon— Yuu: *Hits invisible wall* OW! Batman!! Azul! Lilia and Azul: It’s not us!

#To be fair if not for the invisible wall he would have made it #people missed the mad man #so here he is #yuusona #twisted wonderland yuu #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #twst oc #twst yuu #ramshackle prefect #twisted wonderland oc #twst lilia #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #twst event #twisted wonderland azul #twst spoilers #lost in a book with stitch #twst grim #grim twst #ace trappola #disney twst #twst #twst jack #jack howl #yes his name is Yuu Hoo #Yuu R. Hoo #to be percised #not his real name but good enough for him

[operationslipperypuppet]

out of all the broken trios, Jolene/Marabelle/Cobb is a little bit the most interesting.

to start, they're basically the second one introduced overall. they establish that Alanis/Thiala/Ulfgar is the beginning of a pattern, not an isolated incident.

second - we know the most about them the fastest. while it takes a while to build to backstory as to the why and how other heroes separated, Cobb explains what happened to his adventuring party the first time he's asked. they are also visited in narrative flashbacks more often than any other trio, iirc. we get to see Jolene fighting alongside her daughter in the endgame, saving the One Hells. Cobb is basically a member of the Boobs for two entire arcs, and comes back at the end for a bit. we see the most from them when it comes to fights and supporting new heroes.

third - their reconciliation is poignant and immediate. but it's also possible. Aryox is long gone, and Telaine likely wouldn't have heard him out. Thiala was a fascist, Alanis will never forgive her (nor should she). there is reconciliation possible and that happens for other trios, but not in the same way. when Cobb leans down it's because he's already forgiven Marabelle's mistake. Moonshine knows she can pretend to be Jolene because Jolene, too, would immediately forgive her sister. and when the context is explained to Jolene, all the ill will she ever had for her sister (which was likely low at that point) washed away.

fourth - Cobb and Jolene clearly and without exception remain a duo, friends, together, even without the third member of their party. Marabelle's assumed betrayal hurts them, certainly, but it does not have a long-term effect on their friendship. we don't exactly see independent duos with the other broken trios. not from the outset. when Jolene takes her place as the MeeMaw, Cobb remains. he's a stalwart defender of the Crick. there's nothing anyone could say to get me to believe he wasn't sent to Galaderon on Jolene's request, as he does in the later episodes when he travels to Irondeep and helps the Goo Gone Gang. he's an institution at the Crick, he makes the best fireworks shows (non-magical) and is someone everyone knows and cares about, in a place where someone he could have avoided due to baggage is in charge. but they don't really let the issues break apart their friendship. not that we can see.

and finally - it's the one that, now, we see as the most broken. Jolene was always going to outlive Cobb. it just happened tragically, and likely sooner than she expected. when we return to the Crick in campaign 3, an argument could have been made (by me, to me, at least) that Cobb was out on a scouting mission, and that Murph did backflips to get the Boobs to leave him behind in C1, so why would he tempt them with him again (this is a joke, to be clear). but that's not the case. he's gone, and Jolene is alone. the only member of her party to remain. Alanis let the breakup of her adventuring party crumble her: she meddled with the world for centuries, trying to right her wrongs; she’s still doing work to make sure Thiala’s actions don’t destroy the world and she may never be finished. Jolene would never fall into that path. she keeps working toward the advancement and protection of her community, even when it's threatened. she stays the defender of the Crick that she always was, the woman we know as an audience. she won't rain arrows down from her towers, she will always shine a light.

broken trios break the people in them. we have seen most of the other broken trios as shattered parts of the whole, where the individuals, even if they come back together, continue to show the baggage of their break. Cobb, Marabelle, and Jolene are the exception to that second half of the rule. and a little bit that’s because of the Crick and how they were raised and continue to live, but it’s also about who they are as people and how they (Cobb and Jolene) seemingly actively chose to not let what happened ruin that.

and if you were to ask me? the band of boobs will follow their path, especially given that hardwon is on his way back to them.

#naddpod #not another dnd podcast #bahumia #jolene cybin #marabelle cybin #ol cobb #ba2mia #I’ve waffled on posting this for hours bc it’s not a fully fleshed out thought but fuck it fine

[morallyinept]

A full transcribe of AGENT WHISKEY'S dialogue/lines from the film KINGSMAN: THE GOLDEN CIRCLE.

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

Kid, looks like we’re hookin’ up with a chick at a rock concert. My favourite kind of mission.

I’m sending my jet to pick you up. 

__________________

Well, that's the easy part, kid. Take a look in the glove box. 

Goes on your finger. The surveillance tracker is in the tip. Apply light pressure for three seconds to release it. 

__________________

I say we both make an approach. Whoever gets on best goes for it. 

The hand is not a mucus membrane, Eggsy. Neither is the back. They teach you anything at Kingsman? 

Our trackers are designed to enter in through the bloodstream, they circulate harmlessly providing full audio and GPS.

No, Eggsy, it ain’t.

Alright I’ll take first crack, watch and learn, buddy.  

Miss, I beg your pardon. I don’t wanna pester you, but I just have to know. What time are you playing? 

Oh damn it, now I feel like a fool. I just assumed a woman with your… charisma, well, she just had to be somebody. 

No, it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to make me feel like a dumbass, so I’ll let you make it up to me by letting me buy you a drink. 

What are we doin’?

Tinder, what? 

Be good, be cool. 

__________________

Now, is that any way to welcome a visitor from out of town, Moonshine? 

Well, pick him up.

Now, that is not what I call a Kentucky welcome. 

Manners. Maketh. Man. Let me translate that for ya. 

Hoo. I feel like a tornado in a trailer park. 

__________________

You can’t make this personal, sir. 

Poppy’s stock piles really could be anywhere. 

You two need to fix this code name thing. And with all due respect, sir. I don’t think Galahad Senior is ready to return to work. 

It’s a lasso. 

Yes, sir. 

__________________

Hold up, we need ya down here, Galahad. Secure the control room. 

I’ll cover. 

Galahad we’re coming! All clear at the bottom? Galahad, come in! 

Shit. 

Shit! 

__________________

Let me have a look? 

Get down! 

Fuck you! I just saved your life! 

Alright. They're going for cover and reloadin’. I’ll fix their wagons. Cover me, boys! 

Thank fuckin’ Christ I didn’t need any back up! 

I’m out of ammo. Troop carrier coming in. What d’ya got? 

What is this? Looks like you packed for a fuckin’ slumber party, not a mission. 

Hey! Butterfly guy! It don’t look like Ginger fixed you right. 

I said I’m empty. Gimme yours! 

__________________

Hello gorgeous! I’m Jack, what’s your name? How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy? I got a six pack of cold ones on ice and my roomie's out all night, so you can scream my name as loud as you need to, sugar! 

Who’s this pretty lady? 

Ginger. Goddamn Butterfly guy shot me in the fuckin’ head! 

Well I’m guessin’ you didn’t fix him right! Where the hell is he? 

Eggsy’s gonna need back up. 

Get the Silver Pony on the runway and ready to take off! 

__________________

So. Don’t move, kid. You try anything funny and I turn this thing electric. 

Now, give up your guns, fellas. Slide ‘em over. 

Nope. My brain’s all good, kid. And you know what? I reckon the same is true for your friend Harry over here. Real fine instincts, I’ll give him that. But you stay still or I’ll dice him up so small you can take him home in a bucket and still have room for what's left of your buddy Merlin. 

That ashole? Hahaha. Hell no. It’s a matter of personal principle, agent. No more drug users and the Statesman share price rockets.  

Do you wanna know who was innocent? My highschool sweetheart. Love of my life. Pregnant with my little boy. He’d be about your age now. If his momma hadn’t got caught in the crossfire when two meth head freaks decided to rob a fuckin’ convinience store. A world without those people in it? Sure smells like peace to me. 

You break the law. You pay the price. Good riddance. To all of them. 

That’s why I gotta destroy that case. Now slide it over, Agent Galahad. 

Thank you. 

__________________

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#agent whiskey #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #PPCU #agent whiskey kingsman #kingsman the golden circle #agent whiskey jack daniels #jack daniels kingsman #agent whiskey dialogue

[f3maled0g]

“What’s eating you?”

Edmund Pevensie x Fem!Reader

Warnings - We live in a society, allusions to sex, innuendos.

Summary - Gurl I dunno.

A/N: Don’t repost, re-blogs are absolutely fine

—————

“Pevensie!”

There you appeared with a moonshine induced stagger. One could have sworn Edmund Pevensie’s eyes shone. He quickly assumed his original demeanour. Cold and unbothered, although now with a certain lightness to his shoulders. All the while, you made your boisterous trek to his spot, sporting a lopsided grin.

“Hello,” you sung, albeit badly.

He released an audible humph.

“Geez, something crawl up your trousers, old boy?”

“Okay.” Edmund raised a brow. Then, another.

You paused, maintaining deadly serious eye contact as if about to divulge the most sordid goss.

“What’s eating you?”

“Excuse me?”

“The phrase,” you jabbed at an explanation. “What’s bothering you?”

“In what world are you from where they use that euphemism?”

“Give a girl a break, concern is the most honourable gift I’ve ever bestowed upon anyone,” you returned a salute.

He scanned your hopeful countenance with a critical eye and took a generous swig of brown from a suddenly procured flask in his hand. Ed sighs, his thoughts muffled by the wild clamour of teenagers coupled with the cantankerous ambience that parties generally possessed without fail.

“So,” you inhaled, teetering on the edge of a conversation doomed for death. “Wanna get out of here?”

His lips twitched with a growing smile at the sight of your determined look in his periphery, more than prepared to bolt at the door. Not that you ever noticed the subtle glances, after all, stoicism was his magnum opus while yours ignorant bliss.

“Suit yourself,” you concluded with a shrug and waltzed out the exit and Edmund felt obligated to follow, legs mechanically willing themselves in your direction. Someone had to look out for you.

Just when he thought he’d lost you, Edmund found you leaning against the stout wood of an old oak. You bathed in the staple warmth of summer air, skin set aglow by the moonlight streaming through cracks of the foliage.

“You know, it’s considered rude to stare.” You whispered with closed eyes, conscious of his burning scrutiny.

He lingered at a comfortable distance from you, enraptured by your surreal tranquillity. Your eyes fluttered open, the reflection of the moon evident in your dilated pupils. He drew closer, your presence willing him to motion, like a magnet, until he was close enough to hear the rhythmic pattern of your breath.

The proximity was agonising, enticingly so. Your tangibility rushed him into a confused frenzy. He wanted to touch you. Worship the deity that you were. Longing nagged at him. How was it you were so close yet out of reach? It was aggravating. You were aggravating and this puzzle could only be solved in one way.

You looked at him through your lashes, a haziness dancing across your face. “What’s eating you, Pevensie?”

What passed in the moment was a blur.

Edmund stood before you, obscuring the view of the moon. You tilted your head, the bare slope of your neck appeared so inviting. It took everything to restrain himself. To maintain his resolve. But if you would just ask nicely, sweetly. Edmund’s heart would yield.

Your stare was a siren call to him. Beckoning and beckoning. It seemed his heart was not the only appendage at your beck and call. Edmund’s hands had a mind of their own and commanded forward. You bristled, the grip snaking around your waist shook your guard.

“Is this o-”

“Yes,” you gasped, much like a fish out of water.

Edmund chuckled, “You didn’t even let me finish, love.”

“In the biblical sense, I just might if you got on with it already.”

Seriously, you were rushing this? He pictured this a little differently, wanting to take his time with the pretty thing before him and explore the contours of your soul. After all, not only was Edmund Pevensie a fighter but a lover too.

Impatient hands latched onto his shirt collar, willing him forward and flush against you. The contact stirred something deep within your lower belly, something reserved only for him. He kissed you hard, then pulled away, noses nudging each other’s. You smiled, baring your teeth with closed eyes.

“Y/N,” Edmund breathed, “Look at me.”

“Hmm?”

“I like you, alright?”

“Alright. I like you too.”

Resolve broken.

You laughed heartily. “So, why don’t you just get it over with, buddy boy?”

“Buddy boy, huh?” He pulled away, extending a hand to pull you from the mighty oak. “You really are something.”

“Thanks a bunch, Eds,” you scoffed, jutting your tongue out. “Not only am I aroused, but aroused and disappointed.”

You turned to leave but Edmund stopped you.

“Listen, it’s not that. I just-”

“Are you a virgin?” you deadpanned, “Is that what this is?”

Edmund pouted, wounded. You raised two brows.

Ignoring the blow to his ego, he pressed on, “I just want to take my time with you, is all.”

Oh. You warmed from the explanation.

“So, that’s what’s been bothering you.”

You approached again and this time planted a kiss on his cheek, his face unusually ruddy from the affection.

“Well, at least let me take you home?” he suggested.

“I do have a curfew.”

“So, about the sex…” you began, looping an arm around his.

Edmund rolled his eyes, “Name the date.”

#edmund pevensie x reader #narnia imagine #edmund pevensie x y/n #edmund x reader

[grayintogreen]

9 FANDOM PEEPS TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

Tagged by @rubixpsyche

3 Ships You Like: Creecien (Critical Role), UraYoru (Bleach), uh… Rocketshipping (Pokémon) listen I have a lot of ships that I feel some way about. I was trying to capture a range here of dynamics across various fandoms and somehow came up with the almost the same ship three times. I just WOKE UP.

3 (Hazbin/Helluva) Ships You Like: oh lord. Idk. Obviously Huskerdust. Moxxie/Millie. Whatever Alastor and Lucifer have going on but constantly on the edge of fucking without actually fucking. I will ship nearly anything in this fandom if the artist/writer can sell it to me.

First Ship Ever: I think it was Ash/Misty, honestly. As opposed to Character I Liked/OC I made up to ship with them, which was definitely happening more often.

Last Song You Heard: Ready For This from Hazbin Hotel. It was on my general hits playlist when my dog woke me up for walkies so I guess he got pumped.

Favourite Childhood Book: GOD. I think it was Lassie Come Home. I went through an autistic period where I only read books with animals in them because I guess I didn’t relate to humans enough.

Currently Reading: Into the Drowning Deep by Mira Grant, which is a reread. It has the vibes I need for OWDLIF. And also I just love it.

Currently watching: I’m rewatching Helluva Boss right now but mostly I’m between shows that aren’t presently airing (Critical Role and Dimension 20) because of the brainrot.

Currently Consuming: Doritos-flavored popcorn but I’m microwaving Salisbury steak for lunch (doesn’t cook).

Currently Craving: You know the breading chips that slough off in the deep fryer at Captain D’s that are always at the bottom of your meal? Those things. Bad. Don’t fucking ask. I blame the moonshine I drank last night. I need the bits.

Oh hell I don’t know that many people in this fandom yet nor do I know who has been tagged already so if y’all get this twice, celebrate because um?? You’re loved and noticed!!!

@spoondrifts , @birdsaretoddlers , @prince-liest, @arleney , @milyavild , @genderhawk , @masterqwertster , uhhh… and @captainsparklefingers and @winekita , even though we talk every day.

#Chris speaks

[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 4)

Josh kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, discussions of pregnancy, language, etc

“You’re not one of those ‘cilantro tastes like soap’ people, are you?” Josh asks, knife hovering over the herb mid chop, as if the possibility has only just occurred to him.

“No.” You smile from your perch on the counter. “I happen to have a very sophisticated palate, thank you very much.”

With a nod, he carries on and then sprinkles the tiny bits of green over the avocados he has already sliced into crescents.

Your fingers inch out to swipe a piece, only to be swatted away like a child reaching for an electrical outlet. “Lime first, sweetheart.” He shakes his head. “You’re worse than Lil.”

She’s long asleep, nestled in cozy sheets and little girl dreams.

Truth be told, had you the slightest idea of what was good for you, you’d be long gone, too. But when Josh fixed his hopeful eyes on yours and asked you to stay and join him for a late night snack, he’d won the fight before you’d even stepped into the ring.

Jake was gone again. Wandering on to his next gig, guitar case slung into the backseat of his car to keep his beat to hell and back bag company.

“They booked me for an entire week.” He’d bragged (only slightly humbly) “Place is fuckin’ history, too. Used to be a speakeasy during the prohibition.”

“Well, make sure to stay outta any leftover moonshine,” Josh had teased, yanking him in for a hug. “You can’t play for shit even when you’re sober.”

He focused his radar upon you then, embracing you warmly with a goodbye kiss soft on your neck and hidden from prying eyes by his hair. “See you soon, poppins. Don’t go getting any prettier on me, my poor heart couldn’t stand it.”

Is it normal to feel both elated and devastated to see someone go? Because that’s exactly how you felt. How you always feel when Jake saunters back out of your lives. He causes more trouble for you than you know what to do with, but you can’t claim he isn’t worth it.

So, with his vanishing twin off once more, you simply couldn’t refuse Josh’s offer. He leans towards pensive melancholy in the first few days without his brother.

He once described it as feeling homesick, and you’d marveled at the bond between them…wondered at the invisible string that seems to tie them together, always pulling them back to one another.

“Here, taste.” Josh speaks around the wedge of lime in his mouth and guides a forkful to your mouth, hand cupped beneath it to keep things tidy.

It’s delicious, and you tell him so, watching with rapt attention as he spears a piece of his own and pops the same fork into his own mouth. It’s only a stupid shared utensil, but it strikes you as incredibly intimate.

‘Where’d you get the recipe?”

“No recipe.” He shrugs, looking bashful under your praise, and then taps his temple, “This is where the magic happens.”

You reach forward and poke his blushing cheek softly “Impressive.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of a big deal. I pick my own clothes out, too. Every single morning. Tie my own shoes. The whole thing.”

A hush falls over the dimly lit kitchen as the two of you pick through the bowl, but it’s a comfortable quiet. Still, being the mayor of make-everything-my-business-town, you break it.

“When we were at your parents the other day, Jake and I were in your room and…”

“Yes, love.” He tilts his head and studies you as if looking for signs of a concussion. “I showed up to ruin the party, remember?”

God, you’re such an idiot!

“There was no party, Josh, come on.”

“Please.” He scoffs, slipping another bite into your mouth “You should’ve seen the look he gave me when he walked out. He might as well have pissed a circle around you to mark his territory.”

“Lovely.” You roll your eyes and savory the tang of lime on your tongue.

“What can I say? I’m a born romantic. Anyway, go on. You and Jake were in our room and…?”

“I asked about her.” You suddenly feel horribly intrusive. You never should have broached the subject.

He makes a small sound of acknowledgement and then sets the fork aside, giving you his full attention. “And?”

“And, I don’t know.” Your hands in your lap become your hyper-focus.

“Curious kitten, aren’t you?” There’s a grin in his tone and it eases you into peeking up at him. “Well, what did our dear Jacob have to say on the matter?”

“He said he loved her.”

He cocks his chin in confirmation. “He did.”

“And he said you slept with her.”

Once again, he nods. But slower this time, with regret permeating the room. “Not my finest hour.”

“I guess I just wonder how you come back from something like that?”

He grabs a fresh lime wedge, pops it into his mouth with a contemplative expression, and then offers it up for you to suck once he seems to have found his verbal footing.

“Jake and I have always been the ones to mend the fissures in each other's hearts…even when we’re the ones who’ve created them. I fix him. He fixes me. That’s just how it is.”

You pull on the lime with your lips, like some strange pacifier, offering nothing. What do you say about something you can’t begin to understand?

“Did you know that twins start interacting with each other in the womb at around 14 weeks?”

Now you’re the class act speaking around a lime wedge in fascination. “Really?”

“Mhmm.” He smiles at your widened eyes, lighting up the way he so often does when he spots an opportunity to teach someone something “Researchers studied twins in utero and found they begin reaching for each other at 14 weeks and engaging in comforting behavior. Stroking each other’s heads, holding hands, things like that.”

Your heart swells imagining their tiny translucent hands seeking each other out in the dark.

“Here’s the really amazing part. All this happens before the senses of sight and hearing develop. Which means…”

“The only thing you knew was each other.” You interject.

He seems pleased with your understanding. “For quite a while, yes.”

“So what you’re saying is that it would take much more than some girl to shake such an indelible bond.”

His thumb strokes over your cheek “Right. Even if she wasn’t just some girl.”

He’s no longer talking about the bubbly face smiling out from fading snapshots pinned to a wall across town, but you pretend not to notice.

He watches you, scrutinizing his opponent across a chessboard, and then asks a question of his own. “Why is it that you’ve never asked about her?”

Confused, you shrug inelegantly. “Well, I didn’t even know she existed until the other day. Kinda hard to ask about someone you don’t—“

“No.” He drops his hand away from your face and rests it on your knee instead, circling the pad of his thumb over the worn denim. “Lily’s mother. You’ve never once asked about her.”

“I asked Jake once.” You murmur, almost ashamed of your inquisitiveness.

A short laugh escapes him, “Oh, I’ll bet that went over like a lead balloon.”

You laugh with him, glad for the dissipated heaviness. “A few obscenities I don’t care to repeat is about all I got out of him.”

“Sounds about right. He hates her because he loves Lily so much.”

“Will you?” You prod gently. “Tell me about her, I mean.”

“Not much to tell.” He fits himself between your legs and tenderly toys with the tiny speck of an opal you wear around your neck. “I think I always knew it wasn’t going to work out, but I moved her in anyway when we found out Lil was on her way.”

Jake was right, you hate her already for the rejection you pick up on in his confession.

“She changed almost overnight…didn’t want much to do with any of it. Mom helped me shop for everything, because what the hell did I know? I read the books and set up birthing classes, which she refused to go to, just shit like that…”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe the absurdity of it all. “I brought all these baby name books home once and you know what she said? ‘Just pick something.’ It gutted me. I couldn’t understand how she could be so cold.”

You spin an errant curl around your finger and wait for him to go on…and on he goes.

“I really saw it one day when she came home to find me painting the clouds on Lily’s wall…”

“You painted those?” It touches you deeply to picture him, brush in hand, working diligently to create a perfect world for his little girl.

“I did. I already told you, I’m kind of a big deal. Anyway, she said it was a waste of time and that if I wanted the baby to see clouds so damn bad, I could just take her outside. Then she bitched about the house smelling like paint. I knew right then that it was never going to work.”

“She didn’t care enough about the baby you were already in love with.”

“Not even close.” He leans into your hand as you pet at his hair. “Then Lil was born and it was like watching a cat who doesn’t know how to care for her kittens. You know the ones? Gotta force ‘em to stay in the little box with their babies? That was her.”

“How could anyone not fall for Lily immediately?” You ask with honest confusion. In your eyes, it doesn’t seem possible.

“I ask myself the same question every day. Long story short, I came home early one afternoon. I should’ve had at least three hours left on campus, but I wasn’t feeling well, so I cleared the rest of my schedule.”

He looks far away as he pulls forth the memory. “There she was stuffing a bag full, with three others already zipped up tight on the bed, and the baby strapped into her carrier. I remember thinking ‘I’ll bury her in the backyard before I let her step foot out of this house with Lily.”

You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. Such aggression seems out of place on his tongue. He doesn’t follow suit.

“I really think I meant it.” he mulls it over for a blink. “Yeah, you know what? Scratch the ‘think’, I definitely meant it.”

“You’re a good dad, Josh. The best, even.” You definitely mean that, too.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” There go those pink cheeks again. “Anyway, that was the end of that.”

Biting down on your lip to suppress another laugh, you play along “She’s buried in the backyard?”

“Made Sam dig the hole. Told him I was putting in a tiny pool.”

The laughter finally comes, “You’re an idiot.”

You’ve no way of knowing, but watching you laugh, he thinks you’re one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen…and he’s seen a great many beautiful things.

“Nah, she only had Lily in her seat because she had planned on dropping her at my mother’s to avoid a messy goodbye with me. Last I heard, or cared, she was living in Wyoming of all fuckin’ places. She’s never so much as sent her daughter a birthday card. Which is for the best anyhow.”

You take a deep, sorrowful breath “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” he pats your thighs. “She was a shit mother and a shit person. There’s not a damn thing to be sorry for. Besides, I wouldn’t have needed a nanny if I wasn’t some Hallmark movie single dad, and where would we be without you?”

Jake’s voice rings out inside your head. He’s in love with you.

Without giving you time to answer, he marches on. “Alright, my turn. You gonna tell me what was going on under my poor mama’s roof the other day?”

“Just Jake being Jake.” It’s hardly an answer at all, but you pray he’ll leave it at that.

Wrong.

“He was on my bed, you know. So I assume you had been to, until you heard me coming, anyway. Did you fuck him in my bed?”

His voice has changed in pitch. Just a little deeper, rasping with secrecy, and for some ungodly reason the word ‘fuck’ breathing out of him makes you flush with warmth.

You answer swiftly and truthfully. “I didn’t fuck him at all.”

“But close, right?” How does he always know?

Your silence answers the question well enough for him.

“Hmm,” he looks you over like he’s trying to fit jigsaw pieces together. “I know a lot about my brother. More than most can say…there’s that twin thing again. And I know how he is, and I know that’s why you think you want him so badly.”

You aren’t following, so you remain closed-mouthed and await elaboration.

He hands it over readily. “I know a lot about you, too. I can see way down deep inside you. You’re careful, and meticulous. Independent. You hold your fucking own, all day, every day. But it gets old doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

You’re nodding gently along with his observations without even realizing.

“Yeah, it does.” His hands are in your hair now, holding you in place with a firm grasp to keep you nose to nose. “It gets old, and you just want someone to make it all go away sometimes, don’t you?”

Nodding. Nodding. Nodding. Is that all you know how to do? Evidently.

“And you think Jake, with his rock and roll-my dick drags the ground-bullshit is the one who can give it to you like that…but that’s where you’re wrong.”

“Josh…”

His fingers tighten in your hair, “Quiet.”

Fuck. Your thighs would be squeezed together were he not standing between them.

“If you want someone to give you that, you’ve been sleeping in the wrong bed, goldilocks.”

This is a bad idea. Terrible. Possibly the worst idea. The magnum opus of horrible decisions…but that no longer seems to matter much to you, and it never mattered to him to begin with.

Tentatively, with nerves scratching their claws along the folds of your brain, your tongue laps against his bottom lip. It’s so plump and full, warm, soft as buttery suede.

Instantly, you want more, need more…and so you take it, curling another lick in the exact same spot.

It’s as if you’ve fired a starting gun into the air, and there are no longer two of you. It’s all hands and tangled limbs. Shared panting breaths. Mouths and teeth. Low rumblings of sound that vibrate out of his chest and make you clench up tightly in your jeans.

Jeans. Your favorite jeans, have been for years, but all at once, you loathe them and wish they would disappear.

Roughly, he pulls you to the edge of the counter, grinding insistent rolls of his hips against you. He’s hard. So hard…and the thought alone causes your already wild heart to pound so frantically you wonder if he can hear it. Your head tips back, knocking against the cabinet behind you with a dull thunk, as his mouth searches the uncharted waters of your throat.

You reach for the hem of your shirt, preparing to rip it over your head. Your nipples are aching and pleading for attention, and you want his mouth on them so badly you’d gladly beg.

But, he stops you.

“Not here, sweetheart. She could wake up and walk in.” Even desperate to finally have what he’s wanted for so long within reach, he’s still her father first. You’d have it no other way.

“Bedroom.” You move to hop down, but he shakes his head, cupping your still hidden breasts like they’re wonderful, coveted prizes he’s worked tirelessly to win.

“Too close to her room.” He looks up deviously, with lust and something mischievous playing about in his darkened stare “I tend to be a bit…vocal.”

Vocal? Maybe there is a god, after all.

“Josh, please…” your legs have wrapped around his waist, gaining leverage to writhe against him like a common whore.

His eyes sweep the room in rapid fire thought, and then, there are his hands fisting into your shirt to haul you off the counter in a graceful sweeping motion.

Your feet never touch the ground (where does he hide all that strength?) as he maneuvers you into the pantry. The door closes with a click as he fumbles around blindly in the air in search of the string that will bring the light to life.

The space is suddenly illuminated, spotlighting two sets of feverishly shaking hands fighting to pop buttons and lower zippers.

He’s tugging your jeans down, granting your silent wish for them to go away, but when you move to reach inside his own, he pulls back and shoves you up against a wall of shelves. Blue boxes of Mac and cheese rain down, dry pasta tucked inside cardboard rattling like maracas at your feet.

Your shirt has gone as well, when did that happen? The cups of your bra are pulled down by his curled fingers, displaying your breast round and gorgeous just for him.

Whining softly you fight to catch your breath, but promptly lose the battle when his mouth, silken and wet, closes around your nipple to suck lightly…just enough to make you long for more.

He gifts it a tiny nip of his teeth and then releases. You mourn the sensation so deeply, tears seem a very real threat.

“You didn’t deny it when I said you two were close to fucking the other day…” his mouth is pressed hot against the shell of your ear as you palm his cock through his pants.

A shake of your head is meant to mean, ‘I don’t want to talk about him’.

He either doesn’t get the message, or just doesn’t care to heed it. The pads of his fingers dance a lovely little circle over your clit through your panties just once. That small action draws a pathetic whimper out of you, and the sound alone causes his cock to jerk, untouched.

“What did you let him do to my girl?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Josh,” your hips rock away from the shelving in search of his fingers. “Touch me…fuck, please.”

“Is that what he did?” His voice is a smoky, ghostly finger curling, guiding, beckoning you closer.

“Why do you even care?” You huff, growing pettish and impatient. “It isn’t a contest.”

His fingers have gone back to teasing you, sweeping over your aching clit, sinking into your thighs, thumb tracing patterns over goosebumps. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. When it comes to you, there is no contest between Jake and I…you just don’t know it yet.”

Your incessant need takes over, rendering you helpless to your desire, and you leave your body in the clutch of auto pilot. Grabbing him by the wrist, you shove his hand into your panties and lose your footing when his knuckle slides over your clit.

His arm is tucked around your waist in a split second, holding your weight effortlessly. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Who’s this sweet little pussy so ready for?”

Your hands rake into his hair, pulling it lightly, and then harder still when he groans at the sting. “You, Josh. Only you.”

“Only me right now,” he corrects, fluttering his finger rapid fire as though it were his tongue. “Wasn’t only for me the other day. That’s alright though, love. I’m gonna make this pretty cunt all mine.”

Where has this been hiding? Surely this isn’t the same Josh you stepped into the kitchen with tonight.

This isn’t the Josh who brings his daughter a tiny surprise every day, even if it’s simply a stick of gum, just so she knows he’s always thinking of her.

This isn’t the ray of sunshine Josh who claps and whistles wildly in public when his favorite golden palm tree fireworks explode into the sky every 4th of July.

Josh who will spend an hour coaxing a splinter out of your hand so that it doesn’t sting. The Josh who cries when Bambi’s mother dies because “Walt Disney didn’t have to be such an asshole”.

“What are you thinking?” He sounds immeasurably turned on, but there’s intrigue there too. He genuinely would like to peek inside your head.

“I’m wondering who the hell you are.” A breathy laugh stumbles out of you, followed closely by a gasp when he slips down to tease you into believing he might ease a finger inside.

“Sweetheart,” he dips down and sinks his teeth into your neck lightly, careful not to leave a mark that might be asked after in the morning over a tiny bowl of Lucky Charms. “I think you’ve always known what lies beneath. Isn’t that right?”

Flashes of memories flicker through your mind like heat lightning— fast and unexpected. Heated looks, a deliciously possessive drag of his hand over the curve of your waist, a smoldering comment that could be taken as nothing short of innocence if you chose to lie to yourself about it.

“Yeah,” A slick smile plays over his beautiful lips, tip of his tongue resting at the corner, just barely there. “What a smart girl you are.”

Never before have you been much for praise, it always seemed slightly contrived. But, coming from him? You’d eat it up with a spoon, scrape the bowl, then hold it out for seconds. Please sir, I want some more.

His fingers snap the elastic of your panties, tugging you out of your thoughts. “Show me.”

He wants you to pull them aside, you know that much…but you’ve a stubborn streak a mile wide that doesn’t know when to shut up, you know that, too. “You want it? You do it.”

The words have scarcely tripped off your tongue and his hand is wrapped around your neck, forehead tilted in close to yours, opposite thumb latched over your bottom lip to hold your mouth open submissively “I said show me.”

You are no longer yourself. Panting and desperate in this tiny room, surrounded by boxes of Cheerios and canned goods, something long gone is marching up front and center. Some animalistic evolutionary leftover that has found its time to shine once again, and you are reduced to no more than your need.

Pulling your panties to the side, you gaze up at him through your lashes and issue a whispered, please.

He leans back, longing to soak in the sight of what he’s imagined one too many times to count. “Look at you, sweetheart. Fucking stunning. My perfect, pretty girl has a perfect, pretty cunt, doesn’t she?”

You should feel shy, on the spot, way too ‘seen’. At least, normally you would. But with Josh? You feel like art adorning a gallery wall that he has traveled across miles and seas simply to admire. You feel beautiful here, bathed in his perception.

Reaching down slowly, he holds your eyes locked in an embrace with his own as he dips a single finger deeply into your warmth. Arching into his touch, your entire body shakes with electric anticipation, but just as quickly as it is given, he takes it away.

That very finger slips into his mouth as he sucks it clean with a muted hum of bliss. “You’re just sweet as can be everywhere, aren’t you, love?”

You reach for him, finished with his game, and more than ready to get on with it, but he pulls away and bends to ease your jeans up before opening the pantry door, leading the way with an ‘after you’ motion of his hand.

“What?” Your brow is stitched into a frown of confusion.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, mock-sympathy thick in his tone. “I think it’s time you went to sleep thinking about me for a change, don’t you?”

Incredulous, you can manage no more than a stunned stare.

“Off you go.” He smiles innocently.

You shove him out of the way, feeling foolish and very near tears, but he grabs your arm and spins you around before you can hit the hallway.

“If you can look me in the eye tomorrow morning and tell me that this didn’t feel more right than anything that’s ever happened between you and my brother, I’ll hand over my blessing and step aside.”

“Fuck you, Josh.” Wow, how eloquent.

“Yes, that’s the idea.” He laughs. “Eventually. Amongst other things.”

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