#ugh I’m feral for these three

[andiree]

I am absolutely obsessed with this movie

#challengers #zendaya #mike faist #josh o'connor #luca guadagnino #illustration #tennis #the way I need this soundtrack injected directly into my veins #ugh I’m feral for these three

[ickadori]

hi i’m going feral over the dynamic w uraume, reader, and sukuna. uraume hating reader but they can’t lie and say the way she looks at now BOTH sukuna and uraume as if he were the night sky but they were thd stars in it… still, they say they don’t like her at all! annoying as she is.

even if she’s left alone with them while sukuna is out. and especially if she’s needy and wow sukuna isn’t here to fix it. ugh, uraume HATES her. totally for sure, no lie at all.

sorry it’s just such an AWOOOOBARKBARKHOOWWWLL dynamic </3

[cws] fem reader. brief mention of sukuna treating his workers poorly lmao. poly. this mainly focuses on uraume/reader.

Uraume hates you, sparingly.

There are days where they grow so annoyed by you that they fear they may have to bind their hands to keep from squeezing at your throat. But there are also days where they find their interest mildly piqued by you, and can therefore tolerate you more than usual — today is one of those days.

They stand quite a distance away as they watch you cling onto Sukuna, your face twisted into one of despair as you beg him not to make you leave (ever the drama queen). He pays you no mind, one arm keeping you from falling over yourself while the other three pack your clothes away into a trunk.

“Ryo, I don’t want to go!” Ryo. Tuh. The first time you had uttered that shortening of his name, Uraume had prepared themself to finally see you be disciplined. It was terrible enough that you referred to him as just Sukuna, but to forego that as well and address him by such a casual title?

They had been sure that you’d be sporting a bruised face for a few days, or perhaps cradling a broken limb if the master was feeling particularly slighted, but instead, Lord Sukuna had only regarded you with low, hooded eyes and a ghost of a smile.

“Your wants are of no concern to me.” Sukuna says, and Uraume vividly remembers him asking them just the other day if you ‘wanted’ for anything.

Uraume was woken by a dark presence weighing heavy on their chest, and their eyes quickly open to see Sukuna looming over them, his own eyes narrowed into slits.

“Yes, my Lord?” There’s a slight waver in their voice.

“That woman…does she want for anything?” Uraume glances to the large, open window in their room, the sun still hidden away, and then slowly turns back to the curse.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“The date of her birth is approaching.” Uraume has enough sense not to gape. The King of Curses planning on getting a birthday gift for a human of all things — how absurd! “She claims not to want anything, but you know how women are.”

Uraume blinks at the pensive look that suddenly takes over his face, one hand raising to rub at his chin. After a beat of silence, Sukuna focuses his gaze back on Uraume.

“If you have no use for your tongue, then I’ll gladly take it.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna, I was just recalling what she had mentioned in passing the other day.” He silently urges them to continue. “She frequently reminisces about the fountain in her village and how she wishes she could visit it again - I assume it holds some sort of sentimental value in it.”

Both parties are well aware that the fountain has long since been destroyed; the stone holding it together having been smashed the night Sukuna single-handedly pillaged the small village, and the water, once so crystal clear your face could be reflected in it, had been stained a deep, dark red with the blood of your friends and family.

“Shit.” Sukuna seems a touch distressed, and Uraume balks. It earns them a stinging on their chest, their sleep clothes staining red before their skin quickly heals itself. “Fix your face.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna.”

He ponders for a moment. “I’ll have a fountain erected in the courtyard. I’ll send her away while it’s being built - you’ll accompany her.”

Shit.

Construction was set to start today, hence why you were being driven out of the palace, and Uraume had been tasked with taking you away to a neighboring village until the fountain was completed.

Before, Uraume would have been ashamed of themself for seemingly falling so low in Sukuna’s graces that they had been demoted to a mere pet sitter, but the Lord saw you as so much more. He trusted no one with you, and had killed plenty a servants for so much as letting their gaze linger on you a bit too long, but here he was trusting you, arguably his most prized possession, in their care.

It spoke volumes of how much trust Sukuna put into them, hence Uraume’s agreeable mood.

“You’re sending me off to my death, aren’t you?” You blanche, eyes darting between the two people in your room, and Uraume gives nothing away as they watch you with a neutral expression. “They’re going to cook me, aren’t they?” You let out a harrowing moan, even going so far as to drop your head into your hands, and Sukuna regards you with a painfully patient look.

“You would have done well in the story telling business - you’re highly dramatic.” You go limp, one of Sukuna’s arms quickly snatching you up, and another one comes down to snag ahold of your chin and turn your face up to him, large fingers squishing your cheeks together. “Enough with the theatrics, woman. You’re not being killed just yet.”

“Just yet?”

“The two of you are going on a trip. It’ll be no longer than two weeks.”

“A trip to where? The afterli—!” Sukuna spins you out of his arms, and Uraume acts quickly, their own arms shooting out to steady you. “Ryomen!”

“You may leave, Uraume.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

~

Uraume had been attempting to pacify you ever since the two of you had finally reached your designation: an inn a bit of ways into the countryside.

You had annoyingly cried a good ways of the journey over, only stopping when you had fallen asleep on Uraume’s shoulder, and when you had awoken, you had stayed quiet as you sulked to yourself.

Dramatic.

The two of you were now in the bath, Uraume’s hand gently moving the soapy cloth up and down the expanse of your back. You were still quiet, something completely uncharacteristic of your usual self. Even when Sukuna left the palace for weeks at a time you didn’t act like this. Perhaps you really did believe that he sent you away to be killed…

A part of them wanted to pick at you for their own amusement, but another part of them was slightly…worried. A very minuscule part. A displeased you would inevitably lead to a displeased Sukuna, and Uraume simply refused to let that happen.

“Lord Sukuna’s business will likely be finished before two weeks.” Knowing his master, the man would ensure the workers hands didn’t stop moving until their fingers were worked to the bone - the project would surely take no longer than a week, at the latest.

You give no indication to having heard them, and Uraume rinses the soap from your skin, silently acknowledging just how soft and supple the flesh is. “Have you decided what you’ll have for dinner?”

“You mean my last meal?” You quip, and Uraume grasps the wooden bucket filled with water at their feet. “You have some nerve, Uraume. Bathing me and plumping me up before you drive the knife in. Just know that—ah!” You splutter as a wave of water comes crashing down against your head, and they reach around you to dab at your eyes with a dry cloth.

“I think a hearty soup would do you well. I noticed that your voice sounds a bit scratchier than usual. I suspect you’ll come down with a cold in a few days.” Uraume turns you so you’re facing them, and they pause when they notice the tears gathering in your eyes.

“Did he grow bored of me?” Your voice cracks, and Uraume tilts their head. Humans and their needless worries.

“You are a very silly girl.” You sniff. “We both know very well what has become of the people that bored Lord Sukuna.” Their hands move on instinct, thumbs flicking away the tears that slipped free. “Do you really believe that I would be treating you so kindly if my master had signed off on your death?”

“You dumped water on my head.”

“Lukewarm water. It could have been boiling.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy sound, and Uraume isn’t pleased to admit that they can see the appeal that Sukuna sees in you.

“Let’s quickly finish so you can eat.”

~

“Is it any better?” Uraume questions, careful of their strength as they push their fingers into the plush flesh of your waist. You had found yourself tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, and once questioned, you had complained about a stiffness in your shoulders and lower back, prompting them to undo your robe and attempt to work the kinks out…kinks that they had yet to find.

“Mm-nn,” you sigh, cheek resting on the pillow as your lashes flutter, and they add a bit more pressure, oiled hands sliding up the sides of your waist, fingers brushing against the sides of your breasts, before they’re pushing down between your shoulder blades. “It’s…it’s lower now.”

“Lower?” They let their hands slip further down, thumbs pushing into your lower back and moving in wide, slow circles. They can feel you wiggling underneath them from where they straddle your bare behind, and Uraume focuses their ministrations in that area. “I suppose you are a bit tense - is this better?”

“L-Lower.”

Their brows furrow as they shuffle back so they’re sat atop the backs of your thighs, only for understanding to settle on their features at the slick sheen between your inner thighs. Uraume hums, a single finger moving to trace down your slit. You gasp, butt jutting out, and they tsk with a shake of their head.

“What a roundabout way to say you want me to pleasure you.” You hide your face into the blankets, and they allow their finger to push past wet, puffy lips to get to your clit. “Lord Sukuna instructed me to give you everything that you desired, and if sex is what you desire from me, then you will have it. There’s no need to beat around the bush.”

After Sukuna had first demanded that Uraume ‘teach you how to take him’, he had also given them the task of satisfying you whenever he was not around. You had only come to them twice so far - once at the end of your monthly cycle, a time where you could frequently be found moaning in Sukuna’s lap and pawing at his chest, and twice when Sukuna had ‘punished’ you by refusing to mate with you, forcing you to come to Uraume as a last, desperate resort.

You don’t answer them with words but moans, short breathless sounds that leave you with every swipe of their finger against your clit. Their free hand moves to a plump cheek, and they spread you open, eyes taking in the way your drooling hole clenches around nothing and oozes slick.

Their finger moves from your clit to your hole, and they add in another finger before slowly pushing in, silently marveling at the way your walls greedily suck them in, a low squelch sounding as your arousal bubbles up around the digits.

“Uraume,” you gasp, voice heavy with desire, and there’s a stirring in their groin that they pointedly ignore. They pull their fingers back until they slip out of you and spread them apart, your slick webbing between the two digits, and then they’re plunging them right back in. “Uraume!”

“Does this please you?” Their voice is breathier, heavier, and your ass ripples with the force from their hand hitting against you. “Or would you prefer something else? Perhaps my mouth?”

You moan out something indiscernible, but Uraume decides to take it as an enthusiastic yes, a decision that they refuse to dwell on as they push your thighs apart and lay on their stomach in between them, thumbs keeping your lips spread as they lick a long stripe up your cunt.

You gasp and twitch, and they let you move as you see fit, simply adjusting their position to keep up with you. Their tongue flattens over your bud, nose nuzzled against your clenching hole, and the scent of you nearly overwhelms them.

They venture up a tad, tongue now thrusting into you, and the heat of your pussy is enough to make beads of sweat trickle down their nose to mix in with your essence. They push in deep, tongue rubbing against your walls and curling up before withdrawing, pools of your slick collected and messily gulped down.

Uraume now understands why they so frequently catch Sukuna with his head buried between your thighs, hands keeping you pinned as he feasts on your cunt. Their master has never once eaten a meal they’ve cooked for him with such hunger and passion, and Uraume hates to admit that nothing they make could ever amount to the taste of you.

Their hands move to lock around your hips, your movements preventing them from mouthing at you the way they desperately need to, and they pay no heed to the way you sob into the sheets, pussy tightening around their tongue as you come with a breathless shriek of their name.

You relax in their hold, and they let their tongue slip from inside you, the muscle once again parting your folds to give slow, gentle licks to your twitching clit. You weakly call their name, and they pull away from you with a wet, messy kiss to the sensitive bud, hands going back to massaging into your skin as they struggle to calm their racing pulse.

Your soft snores filter into their ears a few moments later, and they observe you as they’re smacked with a new revelation.

Uraume doesn’t hate you, not one bit.

#uraume x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[notjustjavierpena]

you have returned! hope you’re doing ok! i miss husband!javi like i’m missing a limb!

this got me thinking about a request - husband!javi having to go away for a work trip for a few days - comes back and like cute family time. once the kids are in bed he just goes crazy about reader, she’s tired but she handled the kids no problem and is kind of like no big deal about it. and he’s just feral at that. she’s such a good mum and he’s so turned on and he missed her and just ugh smut

Return

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is a request from the 17th of October 2023. Anon, I hope you are still with us. I loved writing this for you, and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Thank you to proofreading as always @angelofsmalldeath-codeine !! thank you for hyping me @theywhowriteandknowthings and @pinkypromisepascal 💖❤️

Summary: Javier returns from a business trip after being apart from his family for three whole days.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags:  +18, domesticity, a happy family, javi having a baby in his arms and spending alone-time with his kids needs its own tag, i love yous, pregnancy, playful and teasing hubby, touch-starved, banter, dirty talk, finger-fucking, talk about female masturbation, pussy eating, loud reader, piv sex, riding, nipple sucking, lactation kink, javi gets off on you being the mother of his children, multiple orgasms, creampie, intense sex, bliss, pillow talk

Word count: 8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54409297

Return

The sound of the door has you sprinting towards it. You throw your arms around Javier’s neck before he even manages to put down his bag, causing him to drop it and make a noise of concern in case its contents may end up spilling out on the floor. If you have to be completely honest, you don’t give a damn right now because you haven’t felt his embrace for nearly three whole days. 

“Hola, baby,” he says with a voice that tells you that he is smiling. He holds you close to himself, one hand reaching around your waist and the other one settling on the back of your head. He presses your body into his own, and you try to keep yourself from making a noise that reminds you of a schoolgirl. 

Javier has been on a work trip out of state. It happens from time to time that some department of the state gets the not-so-incredible idea of hiring him as a motivational speaker to make their conferences look more interesting than they actually are. Javier hates it but the money is good and his boss always ends up encouraging him in a way that mostly sounds like he has no choice. 

You hate it too. The act of sleeping in your bed alone, not feeling his body heat, and not being able to simply reach out for him if you need him, is torturous. Combined with taking care of three children alone, you find yourself slowly becoming a less-than-ideal version of yourself. It’s a stressfully romantic reminder that you can barely function without him.

“Hi,” you grin widely as you pull back to receive a kiss. You splay your palms on his chest, scratching slightly as he pecks your lips repeatedly for a moment. Your whole body feels like it is made up of butterflies fluttering around each other in a romantic dance. 

“Thank God that’s over,” he reaches for the suitcase when you finally allow him to step out of your arms. He walks into the kitchen, “They were talking through my whole fucking presentation, and the meetings afterward… I was just daydreaming about coming home to you and the kids the whole time.” 

“That bad?” You follow him around like a puppy. If you didn’t know that he would do the same thing had it been you arriving home, you would find yourself slightly pathetic for being such a fool for him. 

“I should’ve said no this time,” he says as if it had ever been an option. You nod as he continues, “I do it every year and I feel like an idiot each time.” 

“We need the money,” you argue, finally moving away from your husband to go to the living room where Sebastian is lying on a blanket. He squeals in delight at seeing you, and you pick him up with a coo. 

“We don’t need the money, we’ve got enough money,” Javier says from the kitchen. 

“Come say hi to your son,” you change the subject and hear Javier’s steps come closer.

“Oh, there he is,” Javier says and his voice switches to baby talk as you hand Sebastian to him. He settles him on his hip, bouncing slightly where he stands, “Te he extrañado tanto, mijo (I have missed you so much, my son).”

Sebastian gurgles happily up at his father. His eyes are full of recognition at the sound of the  familiar voice. You swear that you can see a little bit of the exhaustion in Javier’s eyes disappear. 

“He’s been really patient with his mom these past couple of days,” you say with a chuckle, “No fussing during naps or nothing. Almost like he knew I needed the extra sympathy.”

“Bet your momma handled everything way better than I could, huh? What do you think?” Javier shifts Sebastian to sit on his arm instead so he can blow a raspberry on his face. He smiles softly at you afterward, turning his head towards you so that he and his son are cheek to cheek, “Is that wrong to assume?”

“I still think you’re better with them than me,” you say simply. 

He tuts, “Bullshit.”

Sebastian makes another happy noise at hearing both of his favorite voices. He swings his tiny fists, and Javier grabs one of his hands, “If this one wasn’t so fixated on playing peek-a-boo, he’d agree. Suppose we all have our vices.”

You move past him with a roll of your eyes and a smile on your face. You go to check the food on the stove, and from behind you, Javier sniffs the air. He walks to join you by the counter, “What are you making?”

“Tu favorito (your favorite),” you smile at Sebastian instead of looking at him, leaning in to bump your nose with his tiny one. Sebastian grabs at your face. 

“No te merezco, mi amor (I don’t deserve you, my love).”

“We eat in twenty minutes,” you inform after lovingly shaking your head at him. He leans in to kiss you again and you know immediately that this is just one of many kisses you will get tonight. 

“Where are the rascals?” He asks. 

“In the garden,” you reply and open your arms, “Give him here and go say hi. Inés has been going on about you all day, so please save me from hearing more about her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

Carefully, Javier hands over Sebastian, “I thought you liked her super-duper-awesome Daddy.”

“I think I might actually love him,” you grin and try not to feel silly at your sappiness because you do actually love him so much that it is stupid. Sebastian clings to you as soon as he smells you, resting his head on your shoulder and bunching his fists in your shirt.

Javier kisses you once more before heading to the door to the garden. You hear him leave it open, and watch him go outside and step off the porch with a hello. 

“Hey there, gremlins!” He shouts. Inés and Lucas, both engrossed in their own activities, look up at the same time. Their faces light up at the sight of their father, but Inés is the one who makes a noise so loud that you can hear it in the kitchen as if she’s speaking right next to you. 

Both of them come charging whilst shouting for him. you smile fondly at the sight of them colliding with their father who lets himself be knocked backward into the grass with a happy laugh. He wraps his arms around them and squeezes them tightly, “How’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”

They both look up at his face, speaking enthusiastically at the same time until he can barely tell what is going on. Their stories of the events of the last three days weave together until it is nonsense, and they don’t seem to notice that he cannot follow along with what they are saying. He ruffles their hair and sits up with them still cradled in the crooks of his arms, “Wow wow wow, uno a la  vez (one at a time).”

“I made a tower of blocks that was taller than me!” Inés says proudly and Lucas seems to let her have the spotlight for a moment. He knows that she’ll get distracted and run away soon anyway, giving him his own chance at talking to his father. Inés talks loudly, “Mommy took a picture. She said that you needed the evi— evin— uhh… evindance.”

“Evidence,” Lucas corrects her with a superior smirk. 

“That’s what I said,” she huffs. 

“Nuh-uh,” her brother protests and ducks out from underneath his father’s arm. 

“Ya-huh!” Inés removes herself from the embrace too. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Javier chuckles, “I’ll have to ask mamá for your picture. It sounds really cool.”

“Can we build one together?” She asks with a hopeful voice, “Pleeease.”

“Let’s save it for after dinner, mija (my daughter), okay?” He suggests, “And then I’ll build a tower that’s double the size of you before you gotta sleep.”

“Really? When?” Inés reveals that she still has no real concept of time. 

“After dinner, baby,” he says again, winking at Lucas who grins, “Go ask Mommy when we’re eating.” 

She is up in no time, running towards you in the kitchen. It leaves Lucas the perfect opportunity to have his moment. He gets up from the ground, his jeans covered in green patches, and starts walking towards the swing set that Javier built a few years ago. 

“Dad, you need to see what I’ve learned!” He says. 

“Alright, let’s see,” Javier pushes himself to stand with a groan and follows, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his son get onto the seat of the swing. By clutching the chains tightly, Lucas pulls himself to carefully stand up on the swing seat. 

Javier finds himself about to protest, instinctively holding out a hand to be ready for a potential fall. However, Lucas seems to have everything under control as he holds the chains tightly with both hands. He speaks as he starts swaying back and forth, looking hopeful for approval from who he knows to be the bravest man in his world, “I practiced all day yesterday!” 

“Eres increíble (you’re incredible)!” Javier cheers but then smiles smugly, “Does mom know you’re doing that?” 

“She told me not to,” he admits shyly. 

“Well, I haven’t seen anything,” Javier winks. 

“Thanks, Dad,” it sounds genuine, happy to keep a secret. Lucas lights up, “Wanna see me jump?”

“Even your old dad has limits,” Javier laughs with a shake of his head, “Get down from there. No jumping.”

“Fine,” his son grumbles. 

When he is on the ground, you pop your head out of the door to call them inside, “Dinner time,  chicos  (guys). Lucas, come in here and wash your hands.”

You smile as they approach, and when Lucas has walked past you, you stop Javier in the doorway and curl your fingers around his tie, “You better wash them too, Peña.”

—

The sun hangs low on the horizon when dinner ends. You start gathering the plates and glasses, and Lucas joins in without hesitation which gives Javier a glimpse of what happens when he isn’t home to take care of you. Maybe his son can sense your exhaustion too. He feels a pang of guilt in his stomach but decides to make up for it by getting his daughter ready for bed. 

“Come on, mija (my daughter),” he says, picking Inés up from the floor and throwing her over his shoulder to make her laugh, “Pajamas first and then building blocks.”

He carries her upstairs to the bathroom and helps her into her pajamas, braids her hair the way she likes it, and then gets her toothbrush. She spends the whole time babbling about how she’ll grow taller like her mother and thus they’ll have to build a higher tower each day. 

“Open up,” he says, sitting on the lid of the toilet with her standing between his legs. He holds her toothbrush in front of her mouth. 

“Do you think I’ll be taller than you someday?” She asks with her childlike eyes, and Javier has to tap her chin to make her remember to open her lips. 

“No, because I’ll just wear very big shoes, even if my head bumps against the ceiling,” he tells her with a grin, “C’mon, teeth brushing time.”

Inés grimaces but follows through and he has to shush her several times because she wants to keep talking.She even sports impatience on her face as her father wipes down her mouth with a damp flannel to rid it of leftover toothpaste. She looks ready to bolt out of the door, fidgeting slightly on the spot, “You promised we could build a tower before bed.”

“And we can,” he reassures, turning the flannel over to wipe the tip of her nose playfully. She crinkles it and reaches up to rub it afterward when he moves to hang it on the laundry basket, “But we’re getting ready for bed first. Hair okay?”

She nods, not entirely convinced that she gets to stay up longer after having brushed her teeth but when Javier has put her toothbrush back in its place in the medicine cabinet, she beams as he allows her to run off to her room. He follows behind, arms stretched out in front of himself, “I’m coming to get you, mija (my daughter)!”

“Nooo!” She squeals in delight, trying to barricade the door with her tiny body but he is too fast and manages to reach her before she can even close it. He picks her up by her middle and holds her upside down, shaking her gently while  she laughs and laughs. 

“Mi monita (my little monkey),” he laughs too. 

They spend half an hour as the architects of a tall and colorful skyscraper, Inés too impatient to see the tower reach her own height to care much for aesthetics. Javier tries suggesting a storyline of a castle but his daughter shakes her head. 

“Stop, Daddy,” she commands and he holds up his hands in surrender. 

“So no princesses live here?” He questions, “Not even a dragon? Or maybe a—” 

“No,” she deadpans, steadfast just like Javier’s father has told him he was. He smiles when she isn’t looking, not about to get scolded by a 4-year-old for not taking their playtime seriously. He enjoys the little moments he has like these, seeing the way his daughter imitates his own behavior in a way that would make your teasing never-ending if you saw it. At that moment, he despises himself and his job because he has to leave sometimes and thus misses out on things. He should have been here when Inés built a tower as tall as herself by herself, not see it in a photograph later. 

Eventually, the construction gets too tall for her to build it even taller. Javier is put to work immediately after she realizes this, and she oversees his work with important nods and looks of assessment. 

“Look, Daddy!” She exclaims with each building block that Javier places on top of another. She stands beside the tower because she needs to compare her height to it, and Javier has to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her when she gets close to making it tumble down, “Do you think it will reach the ceiling?”

“One day I’m sure it’ll reach the moon,” he replies as if it is a fact, “I for sure am tall enough.”

“No, you’re not,” she furrows her brow, thinking, “But we will just have to get a very big ladder.”

Finally, Javier has built a tower double her size. It stands wobbly on the floor. He nods towards it, “There you go, mi amor (my love), do you want to put the last block on top? The triangular one?” 

She nods and he notices the telltale signs of Inés’ tiredness because her eyes have started drooping. She rubs them with a little sigh, and then holds out her arms so he can pick her up and place her on his hip. 

She places the block carefully on top after Javier hands it to her. It is like all energy reserves have been used up from one moment to another. However, he doesn’t want to risk the unsteady tower falling over in the middle of the night, so he whispers in his most mischievous voice, “Do you want to knock it down?”

“Can I?” She widens her eyes. 

“Sí, pero no se lo digas a tu mamá (yes, but don’t tell your mom),” he confirms, “Perhaps a big angry monkey swung from it whilst roaring like this!”

He imitates King Kong the best he can and is thankful she has no clue what it is, and she repeats after him only to push on the stacked blocks until they tumble to the floor. He kicks the remaining pieces with his foot, and she roars again. They laugh together until she yawns.

“Alright, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” he announces then, and she doesn’t protest. He shifts her slightly in his arms so she can wrap herself around him with both her arms and legs, burying her face in his shoulder. It’s clear that she has missed him. He rubs her back with both hands before holding her in place, moving towards the bed in the corner of her room. 

Gently, he lays her down and crouches down beside her afterward. He pulls the covers up over her head on purpose and earns a giggle, “Oh no, where did Inés go?”

“You’re silly, Papá,” she says. 

“Go to sleep, baby,” he tells her after tucking her in properly this time, “You are so tired. I will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you for playing with me,” Inés says with a yawn, turning on her side to look at him better. She softens a little as her eyes start to flutter closed, her father’s hand running over her head. Another yawn comes, “Te quiero, Papá. No me gusta cuando te vas y no me gusta extrañarte (I love you, Dad. I don’t like it when you leave and I don’t like missing you).”

Javier sucks in a breath. He rubs the spot between her eyebrows, trying to keep his composure, “Lo sé, mi vida (I know, my life). I love you too. Sleep well, okay?”

“Okay,” she slurs, and then her breathing slows. He tucks her in one last time, leaning in to kiss her hair softly before stretching carefully to his full height. He makes sure to turn on her night light before turning off the overhead lights, closing the door ever so gently afterward.

He lets out a deep breath right outside her room and smooths two fingers over his mustache. He hasn’t told you about this yet but he is considering quitting his job, has been considering it very seriously since Christmas when he promised to cut down on work significantly to be home a lot more with you and the kids. That and the fact that you are carrying his fourth child, and leaving you home alone with all four in the future just seems cruel.

However, it’s a comment like the one he has just received from his only daughter that sets it in stone. His search for other jobs is not a mere idea any longer but rather a necessity if he wants to continue being happy with his family. 

He has to tell you and he is dying to already, but first, he wants to unpack and then tuck Lucas in too. He has three days of goodnights to catch up on. 

—

He enters Lucas’ room half an hour later to the familiar sound of his son’s Game Boy, its rhythmic beeps and pings accompanied by the frantic tapping on its buttons. Lucas is sitting cross-legged in his bed, already wearing his pajamas and with his face illuminated by the screen of his console. 

“Hey Dad, can you knock? I’m losing my concentration,” his son says without looking up from the screen, already sounding so grown up that Javier has to tighten his grip around the doorknob. Where did the time go? 

“Ay, Lucas,” he tuts and crosses the room to stand by the bed, “Soy tu padre (I’m your father).”

“I just really don’t want to lose,” he explains and starts tapping away on the buttons again, his stare still fixed on the little jumping character. Javier waits for a moment, following his game by looking over his shoulder. 

When enough time has passed and Lucas seems to relax a bit more, he interrupts again, “Alright, time for bed, muchacho (young man).” 

“One more game!” Lucas finally looks up with pleading eyes. The boy sports the same puppy-look in them that you have said Javier does himself, and it was only when he looked into Lucas’ pleading face the first time that he realized what you meant. The look is damn near impossible to say no to. 

“Fine, but I’m taking it afterward unless you promise me not to play all night,” he says firmly, “Even Mario has to sleep at some point.”

“I will!” He reassures quickly, “Only five minutes more, I promise.”

“But I want to talk to you about something first,” he holds out his hand for the gaming console, “Dámelo (Give it to me). It’s important you listen.”

“Am I in trouble?” Lucas reluctantly hands his most precious belonging to his father who places it on the nightstand. 

“What? No, mijo (my son),” Javier gets Lucas under the covers, tucks him in, and then sits down on the edge of the bed, “How would you like it if I got to spend more time at home with you all?”

“What do you mean?” Lucas tilts his head in confusion.

“Can you keep a secret from Mom?” He asks with a gentle smile. Lucas nods. He continues, “I’m quitting my job soon.”

“Really?!” Lucas exclaims with pure shock on his face.

“Shh, your sister and your brother are asleep down the hall,” he shushes, holding a finger in front of his mouth.

“Really?” He whispers instead. 

“Absolutely, really,” Javier whispers back and Lucas’ eyes sparkle with excitement. He sits up in bed, pushing the covers aside to crawl into his father’s arms. Maybe he isn’t so grown up after all. Javier hugs him back and kisses his hair, “I’ve been thinking that spending more time with you, your brother and your sister is what I’ve been missing. I don’t like  leaving you here to be the big boy of the house when I’m not here.”

He continues when Lucas tightens his arms around him. He muses, “And even if I’ll still have a job, there’ll be more time for game nights and football in the garden. Would you like that?”

Lucas nods into his shoulder. Javier chuckles softly, "But remember, es nuestro secreto (it’s our secret) until I talk to Mom about it. We want to make sure she's on board with the plan, yeah?”

Lucas pulls back and nods eagerly, looking like he is already daydreaming of the extra time he'll get to spend with his father. However, there’s a tinge of anxiety in his excitement, and his voice is an unsure whisper when he speaks his concern, "Dad, what if Mom doesn't like the idea? What if she gets upset?"

“She understands how important our family time is. Trust me, te prometo (I promise) everything will be okay," he says with a reassuring smile. 

“But what will your new job be?” Lucas continues, “Will it be something cool?”

“I think I might start teaching people how to catch bad guys like I used to do,” he shrugs.

Lucas grimaces, “You’re gonna be a teacher?”

“Alright, that’s enough,” he laughs, “Bedtime.”

“You said one more game!” He protests. 

Javier gets up to grab the Game Boy off the nightstand. He holds it out for his son and yanks it away when he tries to take it, “One.”

“I promise,” he says and takes it when he is allowed. 

“And your father is actually very cool,” Javier moves to turn off the lights. He can already hear the theme tune of Lucas’ game, “Buenas noches (goodnight).”

“Buenas noches, papá, te quiero,” Lucas beams in the few seconds he looks up. 

“Y yo a tí, mijo (I love you too, my son),” he says and flicks the switch. 

“They’re asleep,” Javier says as he enters the kitchen a few minutes later. He finds you leaning against the counter with a glass of alcohol-free red wine in your hand. The bottle stands on the counter behind you, its contents half-emptied as if it's been your only way of treating yourself in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed. You look tired from having been alone with all three of them - one of them still an infant - for three days and with a secret baby in your belly to top it off. 

Chucho had offered to help you out but you had politely declined so as to not ask for too much of your father-in-law, not be too much of an inconvenience when he has so much to do at the ranch with getting ready for the Spring. 

“I’m about to be too,” you say after a sip of your glass. 

“When I’ve finally gotten you to myself?” Javier tuts and steps closer to you, stopping when he is right in front of you. He checks the baby monitor on the kitchen counter next to the wine bottle and then he takes the glass off your hand, setting it aside as well. 

His hands find your sides afterward, cupping your waist for a moment before they slide around your body so he can pull you in for a long and desperate kiss. You rest your arms on his shoulders, cradling his head as he moves his mouth with yours. It is nothing but pure ecstasy to feel him like this again, so much that you forget to breathe and have to pull away too soon. 

You know he is the same when he sucks a breath in at the same time as you. However, instead of kissing you again, he lets you catch your breath and hugs you close to his chest. His body feels warm, an instant smile forming on your face as he squeezes you. 

“Hi,” you say, sounding drunk despite the wine having no alcohol. His arms are a harbor, the very definition of the end of unhappiness. They’re strong and enough to make your head swim, holding you with the promise of never being apart except for physically. 

You feel his breath against your ear, “Hey, mamá.”

“I’m so glad you’re home with me again,” you close your eyes as you inhale through your nose, letting the scent of him flood your system. 

Javier pulls back and stares at you for a moment. He smirks, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eyes. Then he lets go of you to reach up and teasingly pull down your top to look down into it. 

“Ay, Javi,” you scold with a roll of your eyes. 

“What?” He acts oblivious. 

“You’re acting insane, and I’m trying to be genuine.”

“I haven’t seen you in three days, mi amor (my love), you can’t blame me,” he protests your accusation, “Besides, this is me being very genuine.”

“Missed you too,” you sigh. 

“And I’ve missed you, Jesus,” he wraps his arms around your waist again, pulls you closer to his body, and uses every opportunity to kiss you after each sentence, “Missed these tits. Missed your gorgeous pussy. You gotta let me have it tonight, mamácita.” 

“Take me upstairs then,” you lean your head back when he presses his lips to your throat, “We’re not doing it in the kitchen. Against popular belief.”

Javier snorts, “But we always—“

“I said against popular belief, baby,” you stress. 

“Fine, c’mere then,” his arms slide down over your hips, and when they reach your knees, he scoops you up with his strong arms and lifts you over his shoulder. You answer with a yelp that turns into a panicked laugh but he simply smacks your ass and starts walking. In the middle of the chaos, you manage to reach for the baby monitor on the counter. 

“You are incorrigible,” you say with a dramatic sigh.

“Yes, wife, yes, wife good, I like wife,” he replies in his best caveman accent and you snicker all the way up the stairs, legs dangling over his shoulder and ready to scold him each time he gropes your ass. 

When he throws you down on the bed, you are having a full-on laughing fit and the bubbling in your chest feels so good. Even better, when he looms over you by the end of the bed while unbuttoning his shirt, only to crawl on top of you. He kisses your wine-stained lips, scooping you up into his arms and you return his embrace after throwing the baby monitor on the bed. 

“I love your laugh,” he says softly when he needs a breath, bumping your noses together. 

“You just kidnapped me from the kitchen, that’s no laughing matter,” you tease. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your neck while you talk. 

“Then why are you giggling like a schoolgirl?” He places a hand on your belly that still keeps a secret between the two of you. No one knows yet. 

There is concentration on his face when his hand moves up under your top, smoothing the fabric up until you stretch your arms above your head to help him rid it off of your body. 

“Hmm,” you think out loud, “Maybe because I have this terrible schoolgirl crush on you.”

“Really? I thought marriage was just a matter of convenience,” he chuckles and kisses your neck again. You lay your hands on his shoulders, smoothing them over the broadness of his bare skin that’s been missing underneath your fingertips and pushing him down towards your chest. 

“This is pretty good too, most convenient,” you note with a grin as he follows your silent order, moving his mouth south on you until he plants kisses between your breasts. You reach underneath your back to undo your bra, and he peels it off of you and sighs with satisfaction as soon as he has your upper body naked. 

“Look at you,” he groans, throwing the bra to the side and diving back into you. He kisses the swell of your right breast, “You make me so fucking horny.”

You throw your head back as he lets the flat of his tongue trail wetly from one breast to the other. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and earns his first moan, to which he presses his clothed crotch into your thigh to show you how hard he is already. 

“I’ve been wet since I saw you at the door,” you admit, “Been thinking of your cock inside of me each night. So fucking lonely without you.”

“You should have called me,” he mutters, mouth going further down on your body until he reaches the hem of your jeans. He undoes the button and zipper, yanking them over your hips and pulling them off your legs. 

“I was too busy screwing myself,” you tell him and he immediately finds your eyes. That clearly hit a spot, “You like that, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” he struggles a little with the jeans as they sit around your ankles, but the desperation has him yanking them off with enough enthusiasm to pull you along. 

“If you weren’t trying to drag me onto the floor— oh, shit.”

Javier has dragged your underwear along with the jeans, and he is now sinking two fingers deep inside of your dripping cunt and pressing them upwards. It’s what you get for being snarky, you suppose, staring down at him as he fucks you open on his digits. 

“Your mouth— ah, put your mouth on me,” you try to command. 

“Quiet down, baby. I literally just put the kids to bed. You want them running in here?” He shushes you with an amused grin, adding a third finger to your squelching cunt to make you groan, “While I’m wearing you like a puppet?” 

You rock against his hand with a chuckle that develops into a moan, “Imagine the conversation that’ll start.”

“I’d rather have a conversation about how filthy you’ve been while I was away,” he speeds up his fingers to make you cry out against your hand but he doesn’t make you come, changing his mind halfway there to follow through on your request, “No, actually I’ll have you monologue about it because I’m going to eat your pussy as you do it.”

You tremble as he takes your clit in his mouth, easing his tongue over the hard nub over and over again whilst timing it with the strokes of his fingers. You feel so full of his digits, and it takes you a moment to trust yourself not to cry at the ceiling the second you remove your hand from your mouth. 

“Took a long shower the day before yesterday, after the kids had gone to school and Seb was napping,” you begin with shaking breaths. You need to start the sentence three times before you can make your words make sense, “Used the faucet on the bathtub and came so goddamn hard. You should’ve seen me with my legs up against the wall.”

Below you, Javier hums in approval and it vibrates through your throbbing pussy. You continue.

“I imagined you going down on me with your warm tongue, circling my clit— yes, just like that,” just talking about it makes you gush from how horny it makes you, wetness dripping past Javier’s lips and into his mouth. He groans against you and mouths at your pulsing clit. You find yourself much closer from how well your body remembers the orgasm you had in the shower; the warm water pounding rhythmically against your clit, your toes curling, and— and. 

You grind into his mouth and fuck yourself on his fingers as you come, the hot and heavy feeling of an orgasm crashing over you and intensifying as it peaks. You have to bite your lip to keep from screaming, still not managing to keep the high-pitched ah! from reverberating through the room. Javier’s fingers feel so much bigger inside of you as your cunt strangles them, and when you look down at him, you see that he is crashing his hips against the bed to feel just a bit of relief. 

You have lost all restraint in your noises as you feel the pleasure ebb out, leaving you a whimpering and panting mess on the bed that wants it all. Somehow you are deeply satisfied at the same time as knowing that this is not enough; you need all of him, and you need him inside of your cunt until you can barely move from the spot. The fact that your body still works when he pulls his fingers from you is an indication of not having had enough. 

“Need to fuck you,” he says from below you, crawling on top of you. He has left a damp spot on the sheets from where his cock has dragged against them, and he looks like he is in pain at this point if he doesn’t get to feel you around him, “Now, mi amor (my love).”

“No,” you stop him as he tries spreading your legs with a gentle yet hurried hand.

“No?” His brows furrow, a protest on the tip of his tongue. 

“Let me ride you,” you beg, already pushing on his shoulders and feeling how he is giving in in an instant, “Please, I want you so deep in me.”

“Yes, yeah, okay,” he breathes, moving to lie on his back with a pillow under his head. You shake as you lift yourself to straddle him, holding out your arms in front of yourself to signal that you want him to be close to you. He reads you without you saying anything and sits up in your bed so you can be chest to chest. 

You reach beneath yourself to take hold of the base of his cock, holding him in place so you can sink down on his shaft until he is buried inside of you to the hilt. You are dripping wet. The motion of engulfing him in your heat is smooth and effortless, and the moans the both of you let out are closer to whines because you are so starved. 

“It’s so good, you’re so wet, baby,” he mumbles quietly in your ear, nosing along the spot behind it. You arch into him, nodding without any words coming to your mind. Instead, you let out a soft gasp as he fucks up into you. 

Nothing describes being this close to him after not even being able to kiss him for three days. Other couples would shake their heads if they knew how desperate you get from merely three days apart. You only feel sorry for them. They don’t get how your days are spent with taking every opportunity to lay eyes on each other, breathe and taste each other or even just being able to put a hand on each other’s shoulder, hip, the small of the back. 

“Let me,” you pant as he moves underneath you, sending you into a state where you need to concentrate if you want to get out a proper sentence, “I want to fuck this cock. Please, let me.”

Javier stills his hips underneath you. He seems to be holding his breath as he watches you place your hands on his shoulders and then feel them slide behind his head to tilt his head backward. He looks up at you as you start moving on him, rocking in his lap so he barely pulls out of you. 

“Come on, that’s a good girl,” he says when he finally sucks in a breath, eyes gazing up at you with a pussydrunk look in them. When they glaze over like this, you know his words will be ravenous and never-ending, “Fuck, baby. That’s it. There you go. Let me touch you so deep inside.”

It doesn’t take long for him to be distracted by your moving chest as you sensually drag your hips over his thick cock. He did tell you that he had missed your breasts but that had been in a slightly playful manner; you never thought that you would actually start to feel beautiful under his hungry eyes. It shouldn’t come as a shock to you because he always knows how to make you feel desirable. 

“Attagirl,” he groans, holding your hip tightly with his right hand to help you keep your balance, “God, look at those pretty tits.”

You arch your back as he puts his other hand on your left breast, bending his head down to mouth along the swell until he reaches your nipple. He swirls his tongue once but it is too hard to keep going when you move more frantically on top of him to pleasure yourself, so instead, he wraps his whole mouth around the hardened, spit-slicked peak and sucks until your cunt clamps down in surprise of how good it feels.

“Fuck,” you pant, closing your eyes. The noises of him sucking on your breasts fill your ears and along with how it is making your belly swirl, it makes you impossibly wetter, coating his dick in a milky-white ring. A lewd thought enters your mind. Perhaps, he keeps knocking you up because of this; your cup size has remained the same for a while because you’ve been breastfeeding for months now, and with another baby on its way, you know that the months will keep adding up in the near future.

A drop slips into his mouth and spurs him on to give you a thorough taste. Your brows pull together as a more high-pitched moan leaves your open mouth and he pulls back to shush you gently. Then he sucks greedily again. 

You had once asked him why he loved this, and he had replied that the very fact that you were producing milk so sweet to nurture his child went straight to his dick. 

“Javi,” you whine to tell him just how you feel. He removes his mouth from your sensitive chest to talk, albeit reluctantly. However, when he notices the change in your sounds and your pitch, he doesn’t want to look away from your face again until he has seen you lose it. 

“Oh, you wanna come, huh? Then fuck me,” he says with milk-stained lips. You move desperately in his lap as he spurs you on, feeling the head of his cock dragging back and forth inside of you, laying against your g-spot perfectly if you tilt your hips just a bit. Javier’s eyes burn as they stare up at you but he cannot help himself from occasionally glancing down at your bouncing tits. Your need to come grows, and when you press down slightly harder, you see stars behind your eyelids. A second orgasm tears through you, and one of the hands that has gripped your hip hard enough to bruise comes up to cover your mouth because you start screaming. It’s so intense to have missed him so much. 

“There she is,” he growls lowly, watching your face contort with pleasure until tears slide down your face and underneath his palm that’s tightly secured over your whining mouth, “That’s my good girl. You know how to come on this fucking cock, fuck, you feel so good, mi vida (my life), choking my dick. Keep going— no no, don’t stop, ride through it, baby.”

You force yourself to continue moving and keep crying into his hand, wet from drool and tears by now. The oversensitivity is mind-numbing, toe-curling, and somehow still not enough.

“Almost made me come, mi chica sucía y desesperada (my dirty, eager girl),” he says through a breathless chuckle but then raises his brows as your pitch starts climbing once again. You have successfully bypassed your body and started building up another high, “You’re gonna come again? Díos mio (my God), my beautiful wife is insatiable.”

Any chance of talking back at him is lost because you would wake up the whole neighborhood if he dared remove his hand from your mouth. To put his filthy mouth in its place, you start bouncing in his lap to the point where his naked thighs crash harshly into your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin is dirty but Javier’s desperate groans are obscene. He can barely talk now without his voice wavering, and with the way he repeats himself, you know he is doing everything in his power to let you come one more time before he bursts, “Use my cock, yes like that. K-keep going— you’re gonna make me come. Oh fuck.” 

When he notices that you are trying to say something, he removes his hand and allows you a single sentence before clamping the hand down over your mouth again. 

“I can’t do it anymore,” you whimper with exhaustion, thighs having started to tremble with the effort you are putting into bouncing in his lap. They hurt at this point, straining despite how much you also use your arms to steer yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Go until you can’t fucking do it anymore and I’ll take over, yeah?” He nods at you when you make a mhm-noise into his hand, eyes encouraging and his breaths less composed. 

When you come a second time on his dick, you falter immediately. The sensation of the pleasure that has built up so fast again crashes down and takes you with it in its fall. You are silent when it’s teetering on the edge, and then it makes your voice crack when you feel the first tug behind your throbbing clit. 

There is only the feeling of your convulsing cunt making you believe in a higher power - in this case, Javier fucking Peña - and then said higher power wrapping his arm around your sticky back to lift you up and down. He snaps his hips upwards to use your body for his own pleasure, and after a series of frantic movements, he comes with a groan. The feeling of his warm spill inside of you has you whimpering, and you try your best to rock your hips the best your exhausted body can. If it weren’t for all the dopamine in your system, you are sure it would hurt. 

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes. Oh, baby, fuck the come out of me, yes, that’s it,” he chants underneath you as he fills you up, moving to meet you halfway until he also has no more to give.  When he stills, he grabs your face to smash your lips together in a messy, desperate kiss that is more teeth than anything else. It feels impossible to get close enough to him, even if your chests stick together from sweat.

A moment later, you fall down onto his chest with a chuckle, head swimming from what you have just done. Your arms lie on either side of his head, and your cheek is pressed into his hair. You can feel his nose dig into your shoulder, inhaling you and your post-sex scent, and his arms tighten around your waist as he hugs you close. 

“That was fantastic,” you groan with him still inside of you. He gives you one more thrust, pressing his hips upwards, and you half-moan in oversensitivity and half-laugh in surprise, “Stop it, Peña.”

He laughs breathlessly, placing a kiss on your bare skin. Then he slips out of you with a grunt, and you feel his come drip from you already, down onto his cock and thighs. He rubs your sides with his broad hands, “I have missed you as well, you know.”

“I don’t ever want you to go again,” you demand sillily. 

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time.”

There’s a pause between the two of you. It lasts several minutes where you just lie on top of his chest. 5, 10, 15 minutes pass. Javier says nothing yet you know him well enough to know that he is considering his words. 

“I was thinking of something,” he finally says. 

You sit up at that, “What?” 

“You know how I said something about work during Christmas? That I wanted to be more home with you and the kids, that it would make me happier?” He begins, looking up at you and not hesitating in his eye contact with you. 

You suddenly pay a lot more attention, “Yeah?”

“I was thinking that since I will have a bunch of kids to carry around a lot more years from now, I can’t be running around in the force anymore. My back is fucking killing me, and I also want to make love to my wife on the regular,” he tells you and you know instantly that it’s serious even if he says it with a chuckle, “I was thinking of teaching at the local college. They have a criminology course, and with my time in school with my head in the books - I mean, my bachelor’s degree - it shouldn’t be a problem to get a job there.”

“Are you serious?” You gape at him. 

“Yes, of course, I am,” he furrows his brow slightly. Only now, he looks unsure but still keeps talking, “It would mean nothing of this sort either; me going away.”

“Babe, that’s amazing,” you fall down into him again, causing an umph-noise from your husband, and then you crash your lips into his. You kiss him as if your life depended on it, sliding your fingers through his dark hair and tugging slightly as if trying to get him even closer to you. 

He looks drunk and disheveled when you pull back again, a goofy and satisfied smile on his face. His fingers scratch slightly along your back, “You’d like that, huh?”

“Yes, please,” you beam with happiness. 

“Then you shall have it, mi vida (my life),” his hands travel down to your ass which he gropes obscenely, and when you make a noise, he smacks your right cheek. You feel his cock, hard again, poke into your thigh.

You look down between you, “This is a surprise. I thought you’d gotten old…”

“Like I said…” He grabs your waist and pulls you down to lie on your back. A yelp escapes your lips. 

He is inside of you mere seconds after, causing you to longingly whine. He thrusts once then twice, and you throw your head back to take it, “…I’ve missed you.”

.

.

.

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[hees-mine]

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲?? 𝐀𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞! - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 ⚥ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: smut, unprotected sex, spanking, dirty talk.

“You were so good, babe.” You stand on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend and kissing him, ignoring his sweat-covered body. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Hmm, thank you, baby,” he mumbled against your lips, leaning down and kissing you back. “Scored all those three-pointers just for you, too,” he sends you a wink, making you blush. “Sorry to leave you so soon, baby, but I gotta shower 'cause I’m all sweaty.” he scrunches his face up in disgust.

“Well, can’t I come along?” You bite your lip, a mischievous glint in your eye.

He can’t control the smirk on his face when he hears your suggestion. “That can be arranged.”

-

The locker rooms emptied out, and now it was just you and heeseung alone.

“Fuck hee r-right there” You can’t help but close your eyes from the pleasure, your mouth hung wide open as moan after moan spilled out with every stroke.

Your boyfriend had you bent over one of the benches in the locker room, ass up and clad in his jersey.

“Fuck baby, you look so perfect in my jersey” his left hand is on your curvy waist, his right fisting the Jersey he gave to you last week. He loved seeing you wearing his name on your back, especially with the number 1 accompanying it. “Damn,” he whispers and bites his lip giving your ass a few love taps while the sounds of your dripping pussy fill up the shower room. “All mine.”

“Ugh fuck!” You grip onto the bench for dear life, trying to hold yourself up cause your legs feel so weak from his hard thrusts, but yet you want more cause you could never get enough of your boyfriend. “Harder, please.” his eyes roll back, a deep grunt building in his chest as he squeezes your waist for leverage.

“Yeah? Gonna fuck you so hard, baby” he picks up his pace pressing down on your lower back to reach the deepest part of you. “Hard and deep” he withdraws his hips to gain more strength to slam his cock back inside your gushing pussy.

“O-oh heeseung,” you can’t help but stand on your tippy toes as he bottoms out his rough, hard thrusts, making you drool from how good it feels.

“My own personal little cheerleader,” he smirked, spanking your ass and watching it jiggle beneath his palm, and it was impossible for you not to get wetter with each smack. “You like that, huh, baby?” He rubs his hand over the stinging flesh, soothing the slight pain, only to spank you again but rougher than all the previous times. “Tell me how much you like getting spanked, baby,” he rasps, voice deep with arousal and eyes hazy with nothing but want.

“L-love it hee so much makes me so wet.” You look behind you, catching a view of your boyfriend shirtless and covered in sweat, mouth hung open, allowing quick breaths to fall out as his rhythm turns erratic.

“Yeah fuck baby, you’re so wet. Hear that little pussy creaming for me” The way his eyes roll back makes you tighten around his cock. You couldn’t help it. He looked too sexy while taking you from behind.

“Mmh yes, so wet for you, hee” Heeseung makes eye contact with you, your drowsy fucked out eyes turning him on even more if that was possible.

He moans when he feels your tight walls sucking him in. You feel so warm and wet that his dick can’t help but twitch from how fucking good you feel.

You reach a hand back, grabbing your ass and spreading your cheeks open for him to see his thick cock splitting you in half the way his shaft parts your soaked pussy lips makes him go absolutely feral, and don’t even get him started on the white ring coating his thick base. “Shit,” he grits through his teeth, and he can’t decide where he wants to look your face looked so fucking sexy. He loved watching your reactions as you took every inch of his long thick cock, but he also loved watching your little pussy stretch wide open just to fit him in. “You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” he says, mesmerized by you as he bunches up your jersey and starts stroking your clit with his free hand. “Cum on my dick, baby, show me how proud of me you really are.”

“Yes, hee, I-I’m cumming” You sigh, legs trembling as he rubs your clit until you're soaking his cock in your cum, creaming around his dick just the way he wanted you to. “Oh my god, hee!” you cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck baby, I’m almost there,” he hunched over you, placing sloppy wet kisses on your neck until the clenching of your walls made him fill you with his release, warm spurts of cum coating your sensitive walls. “God, you feel so fucking good around me,” he groans, spilling rope after pearlescent rope of cum deep into your spent cunt.

Exhausted and out of energy, he falls on top of you but quickly catches himself before crushing you under his weight as you both chuckle from his clumsiness.

He lays beside you fighting to catch his breath as he holds onto your waist, securing you, his dick still buried in your cunt as you both lay sideways on the way too small bench. “My good luck charm,” he mumbled into your neck, smiling softly. “You coming to my next game?” he stroked your arm softly.

“On one condition,” you stifle a giggle. You were going to go regardless, but you just wanted to tease him.

“Shoot,” he mumbles, ready to comply with any condition you propose. “I’ll do anything.”

“Promise we can do this again after?” You lean into his touch as he sucks on your neck softly.

“That can be arranged.” he smiles on your skin. Not only was he going to win on the court, he was going to win off the court as well.

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hyung line #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enhypen lee heeseung smut #heeseung fluff

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Types of Obey Me Character Fans:

(All of you are valid, and I am equally afraid of all of you)

Lucifer

“Look at this tragic, broken, man, I am either going to fix him or irreversibly damage him, I haven’t decided yet.”

OH YOU FUCKING KNOW THE OTHER TYPE.

“You are my daaaaaad! You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!”

Mammon

This man is innocent. He has done nothing wrong ever. I love him. I will pet him gently for 88 minutes straight. That is my husband. That is my sweet blorbo.

This man is guilty of all crimes and I will be persecuting him to the fullest extent of the angst laws.

Haha funny greed boy hangs from the ceiling :3

Leviathan

I will be this man’s discord kitten. I want to sit on his lap while he plays God of War and does a bad impression of Kratos. I will let him infodump to me until the inevitable heat death of the universe because I love him so much.

WHEN ARE WE GONNA SEE LEVI IN HIS UNIFORM-

I’m forcibly shoving him outside to touch some grass out of love for him.

Satan

My husband is done so dirty by the writing, I will write essay after essay dissecting and explaining his character to a cold, uncaring internet, but that’s okay because my love for him will keep this fire burning-

Heehoo angry catboy nerd annoys Lucifer, and I love him

Satan please lose your shit and go feral, it’s sexy.

Asmodeus

That is my wife, my boyfriend, my side bitch, my everything. I want to be him. I love him. He’s done so dirty by the writing of the game and by a good chunk of the fanbase, I will love and cherish him as he deserves and destroy all his insecurities… or write a depressing amount of angst for him.

What a fine young man.

I would love to see him covered in the blood of his enemies.

He may not be my favourite but BOY HOWDY IS HE IN THE TOP THREE AND I WONT SHUT UP ABOUT IT.

Beelzebub

I love him deeply but how in the ever loving FUCK do I write for him-

Food himbo who’s pure and innocent and has never done anything wrong in his life-

THIS MAN HAS MADE NUMEROUS COMMENTS ABOUT EATING MC BUT I DONT CARE BECAUSE LOOK AT THAT PRECIOUS FACE-

Belphegor

Ugh, look at him. Disgusting. He has not bathed in seven years. I’m going to spray him with the hose.

I am single handedly the kinkiest fuck in this fandom. The horny Lucifer stans WISH they were as depraved as me.

I love him so much and I will cherish him above all things.

————————-

Tag yourself, I’m every kind of Mammon fan and 1 and 2 of Asmo’s fans.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date? #obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Leviathan #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me Beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me crack #obey me shitpost

[petsdenonne]

hi!! may i request some arkham knight jason smut with a lot of oral? 👀

Should’ve listened

Pairing: ArkhamKnight!Jason x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, Gun against jaw (for a second in a non-sexual scene), Oral, brief mention of church, semi-public sex.

Word Count: 1,426

Summary: After zoning out at a bad time, you come to learn that maybe it isn’t bad after all.

Authors note: oh my god, I forgot how feral I am for AK!Jason, like ugh, I went down a little rabbit hole of research to refresh my brain after writing so much RH!Jason and I’m sure glad I did. Thank you, Anon 💕 Gonna have to play Batman: Arkham knight again even though I’ve already finished it.

✨MASTERLISTS✨

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

Your breathing faltered as the air got caught in your throat at the sight of him, your heartbeat ringing loudly in your ears. You had heard others talking about him, and you’d seen photos and videos in the media, but none of them had quite done him any sort of justice.

You couldn’t even see his face, it being covered by a full helmet with bat ears and an LED panel front, yet you were still intrigued. 

The way he walked and carried himself, the way his body language demanded respect, and how his voice came out all husky and modified through the modulator had a dampness forming in your underwear. 

You shook your head a little to try to clear the thoughts swarming your mind, thoughts you definitely should not in any circumstances be thinking about the Arkham Knight- 

“Did you just shake your head no?” His voice abruptly cut in.

Oh, shit. 

Your head shake had been a lot stronger than you had intended for it to be, causing him to think that you were disagreeing with what he had been saying to the group of mercenaries present tonight, which you had zoned out of to focus on what his hands might feel like on your body, so you had no idea what you had even accidentally said no to. 

“No”

“No? Are you sure?” 

“Maybe?”

Scoffing he pushed past a couple of people to get to where you were standing in the back row, looming over you as he closed the gap between you intimidatingly. 

“I said that I am going to hand-pick people present here for my personal squad tonight, and you thinking that you have a say of your own makes you target number one, you shaking your head no, thinking you have freewill means you’re stuck to my side tonight… Say no to me again, and I’m going to make you wish you don’t even have a head to shake next time. Am I clear?”

“Yes” You said under your breath, distracted by how close he was to you. If you were brave enough you could reach out and touch him, run your hands along the armoured plating on his chest. 

“Excuse me? Speak up” You only registered what he had said as you felt the cold barrel of his gun press into the underside of your jaw, the metal digging into your skin a little bit.

“Yes” You repeated, this time a lot louder “Yes, you are clear.”

—-------------

Oh, of course, the one day you mess up and get forced to stick to Arkham Knight’s side is the one where he decides he is going to stand on a random Gotham rooftop and overlook the city. 

You’d never really been that fond of heights, not since you’d fallen off that wall at school and broken your left arm in three places. This must have been God’s way of punishing you for not going to church since you’d flown the nest. 

To your right, you could see him in your peripheral setting up some sort of equipment quickly and gracefully like he had done it a thousand times before, which you realised he probably had when you turned to look at what it was and saw that it was a sniper tripod. His fingers worked smoothly to set up the rifle and attach it to the joint. As a bone-biting breeze blew through you, you began to rub your arms a little to try to generate some sort of warmth, walking over to where he was working as you began to feel a little dizzy from how close you were to the edge, you really didn’t need to be fainting and going over. 

The thought made you dry heave a little which caused him to stop working momentarily. His hands paused as if he was listening to see if you were going to throw up. 

“Sit” He instructed bluntly as his hands again began to move, a small tut under his breath as one of the parts didn’t quite click in as it should. 

Blinking a couple of times you stayed standing for a few seconds before you immediately began to move so your arse was on the asphalt as he turned to look at you, even though you weren’t able to see his eyes you could feel them burning into you. 

“Good” a small huff sounded through his modulator “Now stay there. I don’t have time to scrape you off of the pavement” 

You don’t know why you did it, but you scoffed at that statement. As soon as it left your mouth you could feel the air around you tense up, oh shit. 

“Excuse me?” Standing up, he walked over so that he was towering over you. Making you feel like an ant against him, the flickering LED display of his helmet causing a sense of unease to burrow deep into your gut “Up. Now. Get over there.” 

—--------

You knew the Arkham Knight liked to punish those who went against him, liked to torture them until they were so out of it that even prayers and begging wouldn’t pass their lips anymore, because they knew they were already in hell. 

When he told you to get up and move you were convinced you were about to go over the edge of the roof, he said he didn’t want to scrape you off of the pavement, but that doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t cause the mess himself. You hadn’t ever pictured his punishments as…this.

The cold night’s air that had been cutting at your face earlier on was now cutting at your bare arse and pussy, soothing the aching handprint now present on your behind, the firm smack noise and burning sting making you aware that the handprint was now a pair. His fingers lightly rubbed against the growing welt to soothe it a little before tracing down the back of your thigh as he knelt down behind you, making you bend further over the air conditioning unit that was currently supporting your body weight. 

“Keep your head forward” He demanded, not wanting to piss him off more you obeyed, keeping your eyes locked on the city view as you heard his helmet release and slide off of his head, there was a slight heavy noise as he placed it down- fuck. 

Holy shit.

Your focus was interrupted by the feeling of his tongue gliding through your folds, teasingly skipping over your clit as he went. You could feel him gripping onto your thighs as he repeated the path a couple of times before he finally focused in on the bundle of nerves. Closing his lips around it he began to suck, gently at first but quickly growing in force. A whimper-like moan left your lips, causing him to spank you again “Shut up.” 

Without his helmet on you could hear his voice for what it actually was. Liquid gold. 

A thick Gotham accent with a husky tone to it, you didn’t really care for the specifics of his voice too much, you just know it added to the growing pressure in your stomach. 

Whilst you had been distracted by what he sounded like he had decided that he was done being soft, and was now going to eat you like a starved man.

His tongue lapped at your wetness before pushing deep into you, his calloused thumb moving to circle your clit to help you reach your peak faster. Hard breathy moans vibrated into your pussy as he went, causing you to moan louder than before, but this time he didn’t silence you. Because this time he would be a hypocrite. 

As you tilted your head down slightly to try to not lose yourself you could see that he had unbuckled his trousers and the tact straps that usually kept his pistols on his thighs so he could pull his trousers and boxers down to his knees, his hard cock currently trapped in his tight fist as he pumped in time with his tongue moving in and out of you. 

The sight made you hit your high, releasing over his mouth and chin as you let out a strangled groan, after a few short moments you’d hear a similar noise but deeper, more masculine, before the asphalt where he was kneeling was glazed in his own spend. 

“I think you should be a brat more often, Doll” He said as he kissed your inner thighs.

His boyish cocky grin would be ingrained in your brain until you died.

✨TAG LIST:✨

@igotanidea

@gone-batty-fics

@princessbl0ss0m

@fishfetus

@honeybee54321

@nothingbutfilthx

@raisinggray

@ashleylr012507

@my-final-braincell

@baebeepeach

@little-miss-naill

@l3laze

#dc #jason todd #red hood #arkham knight jason #jason todd smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood smut #arkham knight x reader

[bisexualiteaa]

would it be alright if you were to write a fluff(maybe smut?) hancock x reader who has adhd who's just overwhelmed with quests and doesn't know which one to do first? Lol please and thank you:)

Of the People, For the People

John Hancock x ADHD!GN Reader (FLUFF!!)

CW: reader struggles with their ADHD, John thinks it’s cute, cursing, guilt, restlessness, slight OOC Hancock, slight suggestive themes towards the end, fluff, possible grammatical/spelling errors, briefly proof read

AN: as someone with ADHD this ask actually really hit home. It was half the reason why I could never start games like Fallout and Skyrim in the first place was because there are so many things you can do, the idea alone was overwhelming to me because I knew it’s start and never finish just about everything pushed my way. Then the TV series came o it and all that changed upon the simple acquirement of a hyperfixation on the ghoul and thus my love for fallout was born! 😂 I am still rather new to Fallout games, lore and such so please be gentle if I have gotten anything wrong, I’m still doing my best at learning everything I can to write these well and properly! But I hope I did your ask some justice with this Anon! Hope you all enjoy some more love for our Mayor Hancock. 🥰

Tag-list: @expirednukacola

“Ugh, there’s just too much to doooo” you whined as you plopped down onto his bed in the state house, exhausted and sore all over from setting up not one, not two, but three whole settlements in one day. Of course it wouldn’t be a day out in the commonwealth if you hadn’t run into monstrosities along the way or people along the way to other settlements who needed other things from you. For instance, there was someone who needed saved from thinking they were a synth and returned to their parents, other people who needed help getting their settlements started, people who needed you to kill some super mutants, people who needed you to eliminate some feral ghouls some place else, and after that you couldn’t even remember if you tried. Thank goodness for your Pip-Boy keeping track of these things or else you feared you’d never remember it all. There was just so much that others, especially Preston, were asking of you to do out here that it was beginning to become just a bit too overwhelming to take on all at once. You loved that you could be help for people, so unfortunately you never really paid your own wellbeing any mind until now that it was at such a detriment you could hardly even think straight, much less accurately hit a target or properly even speak to someone without sounding like intelligence was your dump stat. You wanted ever so badly to be that light for people who had seemed to lose hope because it’s what you would want others to do for you if you were in need. You lived and breathed by that golden rule taught to you so long ago. Come to think of it, the only person who you’d done everything for last that you could remember was Hancock, which was actually how you two ended up together.

“Being commander of the Minutemen will do that to ya, sunshine” Hancock teased, leaning against the door frame as he looked at you, tiredly splayed out on his bed in amusement, finding it funny that the commander of such a large militia could be so…well, you. Anyone else would likely be overwhelmed with power to the point of paranoia, or the opposite and let it go to their head and break them of the person they once were, but you were still yourself through everything. He admired the way you wanted to help people, the way you helped the poor and needy in the ways he wished the rich would do, but he could tell it was taking a clear toll on your wellbeing in doing so. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time you told someone no, or that you flat out just couldn’t help them because he could see that look in your eyes when someone asked you for help. He saw the sympathy, the pain, saw the way you felt so bad knowing that if you didn’t, they likely wouldn’t make it out in the harsh world of the commonwealth. His heart ached for you in that sense, because he remembers a time when he wanted to help everyone in his town that he could, any way he could, hell it was the whole reason he became the mayor of Goodneighbor in the first place. But just like you, he needed someone to make him realize that you can’t do everything, some things just have to play out and fix themselves on their own. “But I think you need to take a break from it for a day or two, give yourself a chance to recoup. You’re working’ yourself to death and I’m startin’ to get worried” he added, walking into the room to join you and he watched you sit up, looking completely defeated and worried at the idea of not helping others or running things for just a day, let alone two but also at the fact that now he was concerned for you. “But they need me, John. If I don’t help them…what would become of them? What kind of leader would I be to just leave them in shambles? I can’t live with the idea of lives lost because of me…” you said with a guilty tone, clearly torn between the idea of helping yourself or helping others, and the sweet innocence of your good natured personality made him smile softly as he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you on his bed.

“Even heros need a vacation, love. Helping people who won’t make it is wonderful, it’s one of the many things I love about you. But people can just as easily be hurt when they’re guided in the wrong direction because the person directing them isn’t taking care of themselves the way they need to. A good leader needs strength sure, but that strength depletes and needs replenished every now and again, and that’s okay” he said, grabbing your hand in his, squeezing it in the hopes to offer you some level of comfort to assure you his words meant no harm, he simply just wanted you to look out for yourself as much as you looked out for others around you. He knew it got through to you when he heard you exhale an audible deep breath you’d been holding in for so long. “I guess, I just…I don’t know. It feels extra difficult for me because I can never stay focused on just one thing. I get started on one project, then someone comes along and I get so side tracked trying to help them that I forget all about where I started! I probably have twenty of these damn missions at least half started before I dropped them for something else entirely. It’s so frustrating and overwhelming because then they all start to pile up, and then I don’t know where to start!” you explained, making him laugh. Who would have ever guessed his big, fearless commander of the Minutemen, partner was easily sidetracked by their ADHD. But he wouldn’t want you any other way. “Yet you completed everything I asked of you with no issue” he pointed out with a smug grin, making you blush at the realization that he noticed that. “Well…yeah. I did it because I liked you and wanted to get closer to you. I was fixated on it because I wanted it to better my chances of being with you, so to me it wasn’t work. It was just doing something that you, someone I care for, asked me to do, so I did it” you admitted bashfully, making him smile at the wholesome reason you gave him. “That’s so fucking cute” Hancock replied as he put his arm around you, pulling you into his side, making you blush even more before covering your face with your hands. “It’s cute until you realize I killed someone for you” you quipped with a grin once you’d moved your hands away to look at him, making him chuckle at your reply. “Made it even” he joked, referring to when Finn tried to haggle you when you first showed up to Goodneighbor. “Fair enough” you responded as you chuckled, but he could still tell that you hadn’t fully come around to the idea yet, something still had its hold on you but at least you started to open up to the idea.

“C’mon, let’s just take the next couple of days to relax. The settlements will be fine, they run pretty well on their own, I’m sure they can survive a day or two without you. Maybe Nick or Codsworth can run ship while you take the time to yourself” he said, making you lean your head against his shoulder as you contemplated it. “Poor Codsworth, I wouldn’t do that to him. He tended to my house for two hundred years despite the absolute state of decay it was in from the explosions, thinking the family would come back any day and it drove him nearly mad. I could only imagine what running settlements would do to him” you said, making him chuckle. “Okay then how ‘bout Nick? He’s traveled with you long enough, he’s a smart guy, I’m sure he could handle it. I’m sure he’d more than understand that you need some time to yourself to get back that good ol’ fighting spirit” he added. “You think so?” You asked skeptically, making him sling his arm around your waist to hold you close and help ease your nerves the best he could. It was times like these that you wished you had the confidence and aloof attitude Hancock had about just about everything. “I know so. Think about it, you set them up, taught them what they know, they already manage pretty well on their own, they got this! Just lay back and relax for a change!” he said, easing your nerves just a little bit more at the idea. For someone who never wanted a leader to be too comfortable, he really wanted you to be, it was strange yet heart warming to see how much he cared about you and wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. So you finally gave in, maybe a couple of days to relax and do what you wanted to do didn’t sound bad after all. Maybe you could enjoy a couple of drinks one night, or hell, maybe enjoy just sleeping in a bed two nights in a row for a change, give your body a rest from sleeping on the cold hard ground in a sleeping bag. And not have to worry about all the things floating around in your mind that need done. That sounded like heaven to you once you convinced yourself with Hancock’s help that it could really be useful. “Okay, but if I do, I can’t just lay in bed all day. I literally can’t, I’ll go crazy” you said, making him laugh, knowing the way you can’t sit still for more than a few minutes at a time just on the regular while you’re on the go. “We don’t have to, these couple of days are for what you wanna do sunshine. Though I wouldn’t mind it of course if we spent all of it in bed, but staying in bed all day doesn’t necessarily mean *just* sleeping, ya know” he said, his voice slipping into that characteristic deep, gravelly suggestive tone with a mischievous grin painting his thin, irradiated lips as he pulled you into his side, making you laugh. “John!” You said, seemingly flabbergasted at his reply, but truthfully you hadn’t expected anything less from him. “Oh you know I love it when you yell my name, keep doin’ it sunshine” he said flirtatiously with that ever recognizable smirk painted across his face as he crawled on top of you on the bed, littering your face and neck with kisses through a shared fit of laughter. Maybe a little break wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#fallout #fallout x reader #asks #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 #john hancock x reader #john hancock #fluff

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 13

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

Johanna thinks men are stupid and she doesn’t respect them (pls tell me someone gets this reference)

Content Warnings - your fave is an idiot (for now)

District 13 is lonely. They still won’t let you have any visitors and haven’t quite determined if you are safe yet. Their constant dismissal of your words reminds you of why you went mute all those years ago.

“Please,” you beg one of the doctors. “What do I have to do to prove I’m not a danger? You released Annie a week ago.”

“Miss Y/L/N I am not approved to clear you. That decision is made elsewhere,” the doctor responds.

“Then let me speak to whoever’s in charge!” you demand. “There has to be some way for me to show you all that I’m harmless.”

Ten minutes later you are sitting in front of a lady named President Coin. Your hands and feet are still cuffed but they gave you a jumpsuit to wear instead of your hospital gown. They wheeled you over here in a wheelchair despite your constant reminders that you could walk just fine.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Coin states. “What can I do for you?”

“I want to be released from the hospital,” you firmly state. “I’m of no danger to anyone here.”

“I’m afraid we cannot do that,” Coin replies.

“Why?” you ask.

“It was risky enough to bring you to thirteen,” Coin explains. “We can’t have someone as rogue as you wandering amongst the general population. It’s too dangerous.”

“How many times do I have to explain to you that I’m no longer a danger to anyone?” you practically shout. “They didn’t hurt me in the capital. They gave me some treatment that made me better. I’m not feral anymore.”

“And how am I supposed to believe that?” Coin asks.

“I didn’t talk to anyone for five years besides Finnick,” you snort. “You think I’d be talking to you if I wasn’t healed?”

“That is a fair point,” she sighed. “Maybe we could come to a compromise. I won’t permit your release yet but I will allow you to have pre-approved visitors on the condition that a soldier can monitor the visits and administer sedative if necessary. We can revisit this arrangement in two weeks and adjust based on results.”

“Fine,” you huff. “I just want to see Finnick.”

An hour later, Finnick comes to visit. You reach out to pull him onto the bed with you but he sticks to the edge of the room, sitting down in a chair in the opposite corner.

“Finn,” you whine. “Come here.”

“They told me I need to stay five feet away,” he states. “for my own safety.”

“Well that sounds a lot like a rule you ignored for the past five years,” you shrug. He just shakes his head in response.

“I can’t,” he states. “Not until I know you aren’t going to hurt me.”

You look at him dumbfounded. He thinks you would hurt him?

“You really think I’m going to hurt you?” you ask him.

“I,” he stutters. “I don’t know.”

“They fixed me,” you explain. “I can talk to everyone now. No more violent outbursts or breakdowns.”

He just shakes his head and puts his hands on his temples.

“If you’re just going to treat me like a feral animal, then leave,” you state, causing him to look up at you. What hurts the most is the fact that he actually does get up and leave.

He doesn’t trust you.

Three days later, Johanna comes to see you. Finnick hasn’t come back since you told him to leave so you’ve been all alone in your room.

“Hey Fiesty,” she mutters as she sits down on your bed. “What are you up to nowadays?”

“Nothing much,” you shrug. “I just got moved from one prison to another.” This answer gets a small laugh out of Johanna.

“Glad to see you’re talking again,” she states. “When are they letting you out?”

“They aren’t,” you respond.

“Oh come on,” she groans. “You’re harmless. Don’t tell me Finnick hasn’t tried convincing Coin to release you.”

“He hasn’t,” you reply, shaking your head. “He doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m going to hurt him like how Peeta hurt Katniss.”

“Ugh. Men are so stupid,” Johanna groans. “I’ll talk some sense into him when he visits me this afternoon.”

“He visits you?” you ask. “Why doesn’t he visit me?”

“Because he’s stupid,” Johanna snorts. “Don’t worry. I’ll go fix your relationship.”

“It’s not a relationship!” you exclaim as she leaves your room.

“Shut up Fiesty!” she yells as she finally exits.

“Hey idiot,” Johanna states as Finnick enters her room. He looks like he didn’t sleep again.

“What did I do this time?” he groans.

“You’ve been avoiding Fiesty,” she replies. “She’s locked up in a room all by herself and I’m the only one who has visited her in days.”

“I can’t see her,” he responds, fiddling with the rope in his hands. “It isn’t safe.”

“Stop being an idiot,” Johanna states, causing Finnick to look up at her. “I don’t know exactly what her treatment entailed but it definitely wasn’t the same as mine or Peeta’s. She never screamed. She didn’t have a single cut or bruise on her body when they rescued her. They even polished the bite mark off her wrist. If they had done anything to her, I think someone would have noticed by now.”

“You said before that her room was near Peeta’s,” Finnick comments. “Did he see or hear anything?”

“Well I’m not allowed to see him so I haven’t been able to ask,” Johanna shrugs. “One of the soldiers, the one who is supposedly Katniss’ cousin, told me that Fiesty made a comment about Peeta being dangerous when she was brought in but he didn’t think much about it till he attacked Katniss. If she was also dangerous, I don’t think she would have tried to warn anyone.”

“I don’t know…” Finnick sighs.

“Look,” Johanna states firmly. “We will go visit her together, first thing tomorrow, and I will show you that she’s not dangerous.“

“Fine,” Finnick relents.

Taglist:

@randomgurl2326 @mystargirl-interlude @uther-pendragon-is-an-ass @yourdailymemedelivery @americanprometheuss @l3xi3luv @noisyalmonddreamer @nordicvxid @teaganthemorningstar @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @justtrying2getby @heytherellala @notplutos @innercreationflower @nexxus13 @kachelleee @helluvafire @haymitchabernathyslover @memeorydotcom @frostsword @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @giverosespls @honethatty12 @just-levyy @dd122004dd @nekee-lilac02 @impeterporker @nox-the-gay-nerd @redsakura101 @hopefulatrocity @eddiemunson4ever @fangirlvibez @kittimbo @zucchinimalfoy @sleepy-roman @secretsicanthideanymore @writerofadream @vsnrly @mayonesavegana @lilifl0wer @finnickodaddy @abbersreads @fox-bee926 @ginger-swag-rapunzel

*if the tag didn’t work please check your settings to make sure other blogs can tag you

#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair angst #finnick #thg finnick #mockingjay #johanna mason #the feral one

[loquaciousferret]

I could totally see Javi using his handcuffs on you and getting rough with you when you get mouthy with him because he’s gone a lot for work and you’re lonely 🤭

Ugh dude this thought sent me fucking feral… I had to write something about it immediately. I want him to be my slutty cop boyfriend so bad.

I tried to keep my response to this short and safe to say that didn’t happen so here we go lol I took this and ran with it

All Work, No Play

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ for smut. Unprotected sex, rough sex, use of handcuffs/restraints, pet names, angry(ish) sex, roleplay. Spanking. Maybe more so read at your own risk!

Word Count: 1.5k

Taglist: @silkiers @tightjeansjavi

You heard the key turning in the lock and then Javier’s distinct footsteps as he entered the apartment.

You checked the clock in the corner of your laptop as you continued typing away. 11:14PM.

He called your name and you ignored him, your attention remaining on what you were working on. He found his way to you quickly anyway where you sat at the kitchen table that doubles as your office space in your small apartment.

“s’there any dinner?” He grunts, pouring himself a whisky.

You don’t look up as you respond, flatly. “There was. Three hours ago.”

You can feel his eyes burning into you, but you don’t meet them. The only sounds in the room are of him sipping at his drink and you typing.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m sorry that Escobar didn’t consider your dinner plans when he decided to kill some of my men today. I’ll make sure he consults you first next time.” You hate when his tone drips with sarcasm like this. You knew what you signed up for with Javi and his work, but it shouldn’t mean that you were never allowed to be disappointed about how little time you got with your fiancé.

“Funny, Peña.” You finally flick your gaze up to take him in. His eyes are dark.

“Don’t call me that.” He says through gritted teeth.

You slam the lid of your laptop closed, knowing you won’t be able to concentrate again with you and Javier at each others throats.

“Or what?” You defy.

“Listen cariño,” He begins. He smiles and it seems warm at first but you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. He has finished off his first whisky already and is pouring a second. “You only know Javi. You wouldn’t want to get to know Agent Peña.”

“Actually, if this Agent Peña knows how to treat a woman, I think you ought to introduce me.”

Before you can decide whether this last comment was a terrible idea and a step too far, he has finished his drink in one swift gulp, closed the distance between you with two confident strides, and is ripping you out of your chair, lifting you and placing you down again so you are perched on the kitchen table.

“He doesn’t really deal with women unless they are suspects or whores. Which are you?” He growls in your ear.

You clench your thighs together. You curse whatever faulty part of your brain is making you extremely horny instead of jarred by hearing your fiancée talk like this.

“Well I’m certainly not a whore.” You whisper.

“Hm.” He murmurs, nodding, his face still so close to you that the motion tickles.

In a swift and clearly practiced motion, he has flipped you round and is pressing you into the edge of the table. Then, cool metal slips around both of your wrists, tighter and tighter until you can barely wriggle your hands.

You briefly wonder what has gotten into Javi. This is not something you have ever done together. He doesn’t mix work and pleasure anymore, not with you. It had lost all appeal for him. Or so you thought.

His rock-hard erection straining in his jeans against you snaps you quickly out of these thoughts and back into the moment.

You wiggle your ass, rubbing against him and he grabs the handcuffs and pulls, making them dig into your wrists. You whine at the not entirely unpleasant pain.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses into your ear. “Try anything funny and you’ll regret it.”

You are surprised at how much this turns you on. Javi does a good job separating his work persona from the side of himself he gives you. The man in command of you now couldn’t be further from your doting partner. But you like it.

“I think,” he says, “this arrangement will work for us both. Maybe teach you not to get caught up in the wrong crowd again.”

He maintains a tight grip on the handcuffs with one hand and is unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock from his jeans with the other. He roughly grabs at the tight yoga pants you are wearing and tears them down your legs until they bunch around your ankles. He spreads your thighs as much as possible in this position with one strong hand, before sliding a finger through your dripping wet folds.

“You dirty girl. You wanted this, didn’t you?” He teases, rubbing at your wetness with more force.

“Mmhmm.” You agree, the affirmation coming out as a breathy moan.

“If you take my cock well enough, I won’t tell anyone about what you’ve done. How does that sound?”

“Yes, please Javi.” You moan. This earns you a harsh slap to your ass cheek and you yelp.

“Who do you think you are talking to?”

“I’m sorry, Agent Peña. Yes. I can take it.”

“That’s it.” He praises, his tone low and husky. He slips a couple of fingers inside you, working them in and out, curling them to reach the most pleasurable spots. “Show me some respect. It will make this easier on you.”

He lets go of the handcuffs and you relax onto the cold wood beneath you, laying your chest flat against the surface of the table. He removes his fingers but the sensation is quickly replaced with his large tip nudging at your entrance.

He stills for a second. You go to turn round to look at him, wondering why he has hesitated and you find him taking his shirt off. Then, suddenly he plunges into you right to the hilt at full force.

You cry out at the feeling.

“You told me you could take it.” He grunts, piercing you with full force thrusts.

“Y-Yes.” You moan out. “I can take it, Agent. Please don’t stop.”

The table creaks as he continues to plow into you. You strain against the handcuffs. He enjoys watching you like this and he regrets not having tried it with you sooner.

The sounds of skin slapping and your moans and cries fill the apartment, probably audible from the hallway and the neighbouring properties. Neither of you care. It was the first sex you had had all week. His schedule made it hard to ever get enough of each other.

He pulls out and turns you onto your back, you wrap your legs around his waist. He gropes at your tits roughly, slapping, pinching and squeezing them as he fucks you into the table. It moves across the tiled floor slightly due to the force. With your arms pinned behind you, the handcuffs dig into you, and you arch your back to get away from them.

“Does it hurt?” He grumbles.

“Yes, Sir.” You whine.

“Good.” He says back. He moves one hand to play with your clit, rubbing it in gentle circles. This sensation distracts you from the pain of the metal biting into your skin.

It doesn’t take long before you can feel yourself getting closer to orgasm. You had been touch-starved all week and that only made it easier for him to pleasure you.

“Tell me who makes you feel this good?” He demands.

“Ah-“ You try to speak and only a cry of pleasure escapes you.

“Answer me.” He snaps, lightly slapping your clit. The sensation sends tingles rushing through your whole body. He sees your reaction and does it again.

“Y-You, Agent.” You struggle to get out. “Only you, Agent Peña.”

“That’s right.” He rubs your clit again, faster and with more force. The friction is close to sending you over the edge.

“Don’t cum yet.” He warns. “Together.”

You bite your lip and nod. His hands move to your hips and he slams you down onto his cock, each thrust hits the deepest part of you and you struggle to hold back, clenching around him, becoming impossibly tight as you concentrate on withholding your release.

His thrusts falter and he grunts loudly, then demands “Cum for me. Now, baby.”

You focus on your pleasure and you let go, your legs tensing up around him, holding him closer inside you. He spills into you with a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Jesus.” He says, and pulls out with a hiss.

He lifts you up towards him by his shoulders, holding you close. He searches in his jacket pocket which is strewn over a nearby chair, retrieving the key and unlocking the handcuffs, tossing them aside. They clatter loudly where they land.

You know the moment is over and your Javi is back when he tenderly strokes your hair with one hand, presses a kiss to your forehead, and rubs your wrists with his other large, warm palm. “I have the rest of the weekend off. I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow, hm?”

You smile and nuzzle closer into his bare chest, tightening your arms around him into a hug. “Thank you, Agent Peña”

He tuts at you and pulls away, grinning. “Don’t get me going again, girl.”

#javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena fanfiction #agent pena fanfiction #agent pena smut #agent pena fanfic #narcos smut #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #agent pena x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #agent pena x f!reader

[jazeswhbhaven]

Chapter 5 can’t come soon enough I’m going feral thinking of the Hades boys being voiced

Since you did Levi, any chance I can get some make out hcs of the hades guys? Feel free to skip orias since we don’t have much info about his character yet ty ty! 💜

Oh goodness, anon this ask has been sitting for a minute...I am ofc happy to do it and I thank you for waiting on this ;.; Let's start with our three main Hades bois right away!

Foras

A make-out session with him would consist mostly of him staring at first, trying to figure out why MC would want to kiss him. But once they lean in and he gets a taste, he's curious and wants more. Not clumsy even if he's inexperienced, moaning quietly as his hands gently reach up to caress the back of their head. He doesn't go too crazy, but he doesn't want them pulling away too far just yet, his tongue slowly crawling over MC's.

Barbatos

Oh my, he's been waiting to kiss MC since the first day he saw them. Finally, now he has the chance he grabs them, smirks before asking if they're ready and going in for a deep and passionate kiss. This would escalate so fast, not to sex, but his hands are roaming, clothes are being taken off, and MC's hands are playing with the fluffy curls in his hair. He loves the feeling, his tongue like a snake going deeper and deeper and exploring all areas of MC's mouth. He lets them pull back for air but he's peppering kisses on their neck and collarbone, his arms around their waist, he's fully naked, but MC still has their underwear on. He's not hard...which is fascinating, this is clearly him just focusing on making MC lose their mind with the kissing.

Glasyalabolas

Kissing? Making out? That's never crossed this giant devil's mind. It seems very tame though in his eyes. Why don't you tell everyone we made out and see how they react? MC thinks about it, but then convinces him, how about we make out in the middle of the city in front of everyone? Why don't you show how a true king sweeps someone off their feet? Oh...MC drives a hard bargain...he doesn't wanna be the direct cause but just maybe... The thought of it gets him hot, and he picks up MC into his arms and kisses them anyway. Despite being so tall and gloomy and mostly uninstered, this kiss has passion and fire MC has never experienced. He wants MC to melt in his arms, to be overpowered. "Submit to me..." is his mantra as his mouth takes over MC, sucking on their tongue and nipping at their lips...

Now for Orias...hm because of my personal feelings about him I'll do this little thing instead-

Orias

MC is talking to Leviathan leisurely, and Orias shows up and randomly gives MC a big smooch on the cheek and smirks at Levi innocently before walking away as if he got away with murder. Leviathan is unphased and rolls his eyes, but he does say he must tend to other duties before leaving MC alone.

Orias is visibly irriated. "Ugh, he didn't even notice. You said that would work!"

MC shrugs, and affirms they said 'maybe' and it wasn't for certain. As an A for effort, MC pats Orias on the head and gives a cheek kiss back. Orias is wide-eyed and rubbing his cheek, but as MC walks away he's determined to get more of those. "Maybe Levi will care if it's MC kissing me instead...hehehe"

#whb #what in hell is bad #jwhbasks❓ #whb hades bois 💜 #whb orias #whb foras #whb glasyalabolas #whb barbatos #ha the orias one is kinda cute tho #i went in on barb tho damn

[wander-wren]

hot take all those posts about uraraka and deku having the same type (toga and bakugou)?

wrong. wrong! wrong. sorry

deku is the one with the canonically stated weird creepy obsession. whether you personally think its creepy or not is debatable, but regardless chasing down your ex-friend-turned-bully with stars in your eyes and taking such meticulous notes on his fighting (the moves he uses to beat you up) that you can beat him in a fight when you are at a huge disadvantage is…..it’s not normal.

the way. deku loves kacchan. is. not. normal.

that’s toga’s character

now you could say that bakugou is equally obsessed with deku and i think he is but it comes from less of a place of love. it’s mostly his own insecurity centered on the closest person to him. i think deku knows he loves bakugou (for whatever type of love you’d prefer), but bakugou doesn’t know he loves deku. he just has…these feelings he doesn’t know what to do with, and most of his character is a ball of low self esteem masked with huge ego, so it all just gets wrapped up in that. you know?

and i dont think it’s a hot take to say deku is FAR more feral than bakugou, he of the 8pm bedtime and tax returns. deku is fucking unhinged, man. kid breaks his limbs regularly for three seasons and runs off to become a vigilante.

also, deku AND toga’s character arcs are about seeing the way the world thinks of them, the ideas they internalized for a lot of their lives, and then accepting themselves for who they really are. deku doesn’t let anyone stop him from being a hero, and toga doesn’t let anyone make her feel ashamed for her bloodlust. bakugou’s character arc isn’t about inner acceptance, it’s about changing and growing as a person instead of remaining stagnant like he has all his life, comfortably at the top by accident of birth (this is not to discredit the very very obvious work/training he does pre-UA, no one fights like that with explosive hands otherwise, but it’s clear he didn’t need to adjust anything personally/socially).

i know absolutely nothing is going to stop the meme now, but every time it comes across my dash my eye twitches because ugh, blonde and loud does not a toga parallel make.

disclaimer: i am an anime-only so idk what’s happening in the manga but i sincerely doubt it could be anything big enough to wipe out several years of character building. correct me if i’m wrong!

#wren wrambles #mha #bakudeku #togachako #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #toga himiko #sorry for main tagging #look at my post boy

[hotluncheddie]

🍓🍓

this is honestly kinda random but my part two of the @thefreakandthehair summer fic challenge is done!!! so pretend it’s summer and not halloween, these boys r bring goofy all year round!

prompt: picking berries | cw: none | rated: G | part 2/2 | tags: disaster gays steve& eddie. besties robin & steve. jeff is an angel.

read part 1 here!

-

‘rob? um. is it gay to take your male friend berry picking’ steve asks while he’s pushing the full returns kart over to the romance section. he feels his eyebrows scrunch as he tries to read the labels on the tapes.

‘uh’ comes robins faint reply from where she’s slumped on the counter.. not helpful.

‘if uh. what if he really likes strawberries. like so so much.’ steve asks, focusing on trying to read the tapes even harder as he feels his neck get warm the longer he hears no reply.

‘no right? no, i don’t think so. it’s like friendly bonding. totally wholesome.’ steve gives up on the tapes. coming around to stare at robin across the counter. he gnaws on his cuticle and stares at her eyeballs so hard he goes cross eyed.

‘what the fuck’ robin whispers ‘it’s 9 in the morning’

‘robinnnnn’ steve whines because she not helping and he needs her to help, like so much, like right now.

‘ok ok! ask me again.’ she demands, finally looking alive and like she’ll actually fulfil her best friend duties like he needs.

steve takes a deep breath. ‘is it gay to…’

‘yes.’ robin interrupts before he can finish.

steve opens and closes his mouth a couple times. his mind is blank. blank except for an image of eddie and an image of a strawberry and an intense need in his gut to have the two connect.

‘shit’ steve rubs his hand down his face.

‘fraid so, it’s super gay and i hate to be the one to break it to ya.’ robin pats him on the shoulder, genuinely looking like she feels sorry for him. until her face shifts into a grin that’s a touch feral. ‘your crush on eddie is officially terminal.’

steve feels the heat on his neck slither up and bite at his cheeks. ‘who, uh, who said it was eddie?’

‘oh come on steve! i’m your best friend i see how you look at him.’ robin laments, rolling her eyes with her whole body, instantly calling his paper thin bluff.

steve groans, pushes away from the counter and starts pacing ‘ugh okay yes fine! i wanna take eddie on a gay strawberry date and make him smile and hold his hand and other stuff and, and im kinda freaking out here rob!’ steve feels frazzled. he cards a hand through his hair and tuggs.

‘okay. okay! it’s fine see, it’s fine.’ robin says, giving steve two big thumbs up and a smile that does nothing to hide the panic in her eyes. steve whines again and goes back to pacing.

‘uhhh okay! is this gay stress or eddie specific stress?’ robin joins him in pacing but she stays behind the counter. ‘because i know we talked about that kid in camp and you had a lot to say about that one guy you saw at a swim meet and then when we watched blade runner you talked over it a lot like normal but also got like really quiet when harrison ford was all kinda sweaty and stuff.’ robin finally takes a breath and turn back to face steve who is gaping at her. he feels like she just dissected his brain like it was a frog.

‘so i feel like we discussed the whole’ robin flails her arms up and down his general being. ‘bi thing. so i’m thinking this is more a like eddie specific freak out and so, like, shut the fuck up actually? hes obsessed with you steve!’ robin finishes, finally.

‘who’s obsessed with steve?’ eddie’s asks. because eddie’s there now. flanked by the three corroded coffin boys, all looking at steve like he’s something to be wary of.

‘uh’ robin and steve say in unison.

‘kieth!’ robin shouts with way too much enthusiasm for their manager who barely does his job. ‘yeah, ha. he’s been doing the schedules so the two of them overlap like, all the time. steve here always figured the guy hated him but, uh, times they do be a changing. yeah, he’s to-totally obsessed.’ robin smiles way too big and steve can only match it. staring at her, trying to make her shut. up. using only his minimal bran power.

‘oooh’ eddie says because he’s an angel who would never make fun of robin even if she’s being super weird.

‘uh, we’re gonna go look at the sci-fi section ed’s.’ Gareth says, his face one of confusion and maybe a little bit of fear.

‘buckley. harrington.’ jeff says nodding his head in acknowledgment of the two before they all wonder off. gareth and (unnamed freak) repeat the motion and follow.

huh. that’s good. eddie’s friends are taking longer than most to thaw to steve. he gets it, but, still, sometimes it stings.

‘cool yeah.’ eddie says watching them slip away. ‘movie day.’ eddie explains, smiling so big his eyes squish into little crescents, bouncing on his toes.

steve feels his actual heart clench. like god himself is reaching into his chest and squeezing it.

‘that’s great man’ steve says, voice coming out breathy but eddie’s smile only brightens further when their eyes lock. so steve has to spend a second remembering to breath in again.

‘you want to join? oh uh. i mean. you can’t. your working.’ eddie babbles, slowly going strawberry red. ‘and like, i know you don’t love horror and stuff and that’s kinda the vibe we’re going for so, maybe um, maybe some other time. a time your not working but when it’s not like alien over and over. uh yeah.’

‘doyouwanttogoberrypicking. with me?’ steve blurts. feeling his whole head heat up and run down his chest. he clamps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

eddie looks shocked, eyes so big and confused and pretty.

but before steve knows it, the sun peaks over the mountains and the corners of eddie’s mouth curl into a grin that’s so delighted steve’s toes almost curl.

‘yeah. course i would.’ eddie says, so softly, so shyly through his still strawberry red smile..

‘hopeless am i right?’ jeff says as he steps over to the counter next to robin.

they’re both gawking at the two fumbling through making a plan. all pink cheeked and goofy.

‘hopeless.’ robin confirms, rolling her eyes and going back o actually doing her job. she smiles down at the tape in her hand.

#they go on the date and hold hands!!! #lexssummerfanworkschallenge #steddie #hotlunch #stobin #my fic #<3 #it took so long to end this #i hope it’s fun

[esta-elavaris]

Part Thirteen [4,751 words] ~ James Norrington/OC

An AU of my completed, 400k+ word fanfic Catch the Wind [AO3], in which Elizabeth, not James, is the one to discover Theodora Byrne after she crash-lands into the world of Pirates of the Caribbean.

Page breaks by cafekitsune.

Also now on AO3 and FF.net.

Masterpost - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - *Part Thirteen* [you're here!]

Tag list [let me know if you want to be added!]: @teawithshakespeare @missfronkensteen @dancerinthestorm

A/N: At this point, my approach to this fic is “what if POTC was an Austen novel?” and we just need to live with the consequences xoxo

“Is this not a bit much?” Theo asked doubtfully, scrutinising her reflection.

“My dearest darling Theodora, that is the point,” Elizabeth replied simply.

Both of them had already been dressed by the maids, and now they were resorting to a bit of primping as they waited for the appropriate time to head downstairs.

“I’m not opposed to a bit of glam, but this is…you’ve got me looking like Marie Antoinette.”

“Who?”

Whoops. At least making slips like that with Elizabeth wasn’t quite as disastrous as it might’ve been with anybody else.

“An extravagant French queen.”

“The goal was more fierce ancient warrior goddess attends a ball in her free time.”

“You need your head examined.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“I expect you’re rather more affectionate towards our dear captain, to have captivated him so.”

“Ugh.”

“Then again, perhaps it’s the muttered fieriness that has captured his heart so.”

“Ugh.”

“I heard that the first time.”

“And you’ll hear it again, at this rate.”

“Too right, save your charm for its most fervent applicant.”

Theo then unleashed a third, hearty ugh at her friend – but Elizabeth anticipated it and uttered a matching one in unison at the exact same time, and both of them dissolved into very immature laughter. It was much too difficult to get too annoyed at her friend. Mostly because she seemed to delight in it.

Their looks were not quite matching, but certainly themed alongside one another, and it had all started when Theo gave Elizabeth her gift.

Having never been one for big heartfelt emotional gestures, she felt like her insides were eating themselves as she sat with Elizabeth in the drawing room after dinner. It wasn’t like she never did anything nice for people, she wasn’t a feral animal, but…well. The Irish had a way of doing these things. Usually by offering forth whatever the warm gesture was, along with a (loving) insult and a refusal to make a big deal about it after the fact. That, she suspected, wasn’t the way of things here. And to be honest, she didn’t even consider that fact a bad thing – she certainly wouldn’t judge Elizabeth for being warm and sincere, but she just had little idea of how to respond to it. Maybe it wasn’t even just an Irish thing, maybe it was a product of being raised by a guy, amongst guys.

Combined with the time period disparity, she was left with hopelessly little idea of how to be a woman in the expected manner in these parts. Usually, Elizabeth found that equal parts amusing and charming, likely because Theo didn’t eschew traditionally “girly” stuff. She wasn’t about to stamp her feet at the sight of anything pink and frilly. But the fact remained, that she didn’t want this to be amusing or awkward, or whatever else it was she managed to be here. The last thing she wanted was to put a dampener on this.

So, resisting the strong urge to simply chuck necklace into Elizabeth’s lap and call it a day, she cleared her throat and straightened, taking a sip of her wine in an attempt to appear casual.

“So…I have a present for you,” she began.

Elizabeth’s dark eyes lit up with curiosity and excitement both, one eyebrow arching a little. That was fair. Not because Theo was the ungenerous sort, but because she didn’t exactly have a whole lot to be generous with around here, other than her time. And she had that in spades, which made it lose its lustre a bit.

“I know how much you like my necklace,” she said, reaching up to tug at it where it sat between her collarbones, “and I was half-tempted to just give you it, because it’s the only thing I really can offer, with the way things are right here. Y’know, other than my dazzling personality.”

Huffing a laugh at her remark, Elizabeth’s brow furrowed as she shook her head.

“Theo, I could never accept such a gift-”

“Which was why I didn’t try,” she nodded, “Bit of a crap gift if it just makes you feel bad. But…well. I worked my wiles, and I got a bit of advice, and then I found just the right craftsman for the job.”

Something glimmered in her eyes, and Theo knew then that she’d caught the hint of who exactly had been involved in the making of the necklace.

Presenting the pouch, she pinched the drawstrings between her thumb and forefinger, and then offered it to Elizabeth. Finally, she did a passable job at not appearing as awkward as she felt while she watched her open it, tipping the contents out into her palm. That awkwardness disappeared the moment Elizabeth grinned, and was forgotten entirely when she dragged her into a hug that was more tight than she would’ve thought the younger woman capable of.

If there’d been any small doubt in her mind that she was only pretending to like the necklace – which had been a real fear, given the many fine jewels that she had in her jewellery boxes upstairs – it would’ve been erased by Elizabeth’s sunny disposition in the following days. In fact, whenever they encountered others, servants or friends both, she began each conversation with ‘have you seen what Theodora has given me?’ while Theo flushed under the sheer weight of her enthusiasm.

Yes, she’d done well. She’d have to thank Norrington. Although she suspected he’d have the same dislike for accepting profuse thanks that she did, but that might double the fun. Still, Elizabeth had decided that the necklace should be the focal point of her get-up for the men’s going-away dinner, so no doubt he’d see that, and the hand he’d had in it, as thanks enough – at least once he saw her enthusiasm for it.

“I have to wear silver to accentuate my lovely new necklace, so it only makes sense that you wear gold.”

“My necklace also silver, so shouldn’t we both be wearing that colour?”

“Heavens, no. There’s a fine line that separates what we’re doing, and being a couple of strange old spinsters who wear identical garb and speak in tongues.”

“I already do the latter, depending on who you ask.”

“All the more reason not to partake in the former,” Elizabeth teased. “In any case, that is why you shall borrow one of my necklaces tonight.”

She might’ve disliked being dressed up like a doll, were Elizabeth’s tastes not so damn good. That was the thing with Elizabeth, she never tried to dress her up like her. Everything she flung at her managed to have Theo’s own feel to it, and the garments that did not were artfully styled so that they would once the look was complete. And how many modern women ever had a chance like this? It was like being on a period drama set, without the ordeal of having to learn lines. Fibs about her origins aside…and more concerns over potential lead poisoning. But Elizabeth wasn’t one for powdered faces, however much she was determined to induce a powdered wig fetish in Theo.

Her hair had been wrestled into a voluminous updo, with swooping curls defying gravity pinned up at the back, and one lone crimson ringlet left to fall at her collarbone, ending a good few inches above where the neckline of the gown began.

The necklines here took a bit of getting used to. The way the gowns shoved whatever a woman had in the chest department entirely up, and making even one like herself who was rather un-blessed in the chest suddenly appear busty. Sure, she hadn’t been averse to showing off her figure back home, but it turned out she’d thought the Georgians distinctly less free with that kind of thing than they actually were. For a time that she’d gone into thinking of as very buttoned up, she’d quickly realised how wrong she was when Elizabeth had giggled at her (albeit kindly) for asking if putting so much chest on display wasn’t a bit scandalous.  

It turned out she’d arrived a bit early, if she expected people to faint over the notion of a woman having breasts.

And anyway, the gown was gorgeous. Gleaming gold damask that caught the light of any and every candle in the room, making it appear almost liquid rather than just mere fabric. The sleeves ended with ruffles at her elbows, and there was a minimal amount of bows and frills and lace, so there was no worry that she’d feel like she’d be better suited atop a wedding cake than sitting having drinks with her new friends, and…uh…”friends”.

The sad fact of this impending departure that it was taking half of her allies with it, and Elizabeth had proven the only woman around here who was inclined to take a shine to her. Unless they could start dragging the maids along with them to afternoon tea.

Elizabeth’s gown was similar to hers, although not quite an exact replica. It had more of a floral motif, in shades of silver and dotted here and there with pearls. She looked like some sort of wintry queen when all was said and done – although the coldness of the look ended the moment she smiled. As breathtaking as she was, it was a wonder the other women didn’t hate her and not just Theodora. But in their minds, any positive attributes Elizabeth held were likely just expected. They were correct.

In truth, Theo didn’t envy her. When she met expectations, she’d receive little recognition for it. When Theo showed any fine qualities, it was a pleasant surprise to those inclined to like her, and infuriating for those who did not. The former was nice enough, the latter was funny.

Which made Amelia’s impression of a bulldog chewing a wasp while Elizabeth delighted over her gift during the gathering downright hysterical.

Theo couldn’t tell if the brunette knew she could hear her or not. She stood some ways away, speaking in a little circle with Norrington, Lieutenant Groves, and a handful of other ladies, while Theo mingled with those who had not chosen to snub her. That number was growing, she noted, but there was still something about their smiles that disconcerted her. A tenseness, and an analytical look hidden in their eyes, like they were turning over and over every word she spoke to find some hidden meaning.

She wished them luck with it – for while she had her secrets, there’d be no guessing them for any folk here. It was amidst one of Mrs Spencer’s speeches, during which she listed every fish known to man and whether she liked it or not, and which was the best cooking method if she did, that she caught wind of Amelia’s snide comments, floating airily across the room.

“I confess, she could personally hand me the Crown Jewels and it still would give me no notion of what she’s attempting to say when she speaks, more often than not. It seems a strange consolation prize for Miss Swann.”

Theo stifled an eyeroll, for fear that Mrs Spencer would think she was levelling it at her.

“I find Miss Byrne’s manner of speaking charming. It’s clever,” Groves said, visibly uncaring that Amelia very much did not want to hear that.

“In its own way, no doubt,” she replied boredly.

“No, in the true sense of the term.”

A break in Mrs Spencer’s list (during which she debated whether she preferred crab or lobster) allowed Theo to chime in. Mostly because she couldn’t help herself.

“I’m very beautiful, too – talk about that next,” Theo called over, leaving no doubt as to the fact that she’d heard every word.

Groves grinned and then laughed, “What was it you said the other day? About an old colleague of your father’s – a lanky fellow? Built like a…”

“Built like the side of a bank note.”

“Yes! That’s the one. I confess, I’ve been laughing at that ever since you said it.”

Beside him, Norrington’s lips thinned, and he gazed down into his wine glass as if in disapproval.

Was Groves being inappropriate, or did he just disagree with his opinion? Considering she couldn’t much imagine the former, that only left the latter. Didn’t it?

“Well, to your discerning ear, Lieutenant,” she offered a smile and raised her glass.

Groves mirrored the gesture, and even Mrs Spencer gave a trickling laugh and sipped from her own, but Amelia scoffed. And Norrington? Norrington took a long drink from his own glass that seemed to have little to do with the toast. All while not looking at her.

At some point as the night wore on, Theo excused herself to seek the night air. It was a cloudy night, which kept the stifling heat of the day trapped down upon them, and with all of the bodies and the revelry inside, it soon grew stifling. The saving grace – out here, at least – was that it had begun to drizzle. It was refreshing, even if it would work a few questionable waves into her carefully primped hair.

That didn’t bother her, though. Everybody here was even drunker than she was, and those who gave a toss about what her hair looked like were those who already searched for reasons to dislike her. They could crack on. Walking quietly over to a stone bench in the middle of the patio, she sank down upon it and breathed deeply. She’d need to sober up a little before going back in. All right, she wasn’t exactly shit-faced – there’d be no risk of her climbing up onto a table and belting out ABBA’s greatest hits – but she didn’t like to be much beyond mildly tipsy around this lot.

Most of this lot.

It wouldn’t do to grow too comfortable, but she was at least pleased to find that the list of those she didn’t feel like she had to be permanently on her complete and total guard around had grown more than she ever could’ve hoped. Elizabeth had been the first to occupy it. Then Governor Swann, even if she was never destined to be the best of friends with him. Then Groves, and now – most surprisingly, and in the biggest U-turn of all – Captain Norrington.

“I see we both had the same idea.”

Norrington’s voice was distinct and instantly recognisable from where it sounded behind her. Maybe she’s summoned him with her thoughts.

“Would I be imposing if I joined you?” he hedged.

“Not at all,” she offered a smile, “but I haven’t got any books on me for us to discuss, so we’ll need to find another way to play nice.”

He offered a low huff of a laugh. “I’m optimistic about our changes.”

To her relief, his earlier questionable mood seemed a thing of the past. As he spoke, she scooted along to the left side of the bench and he took a seat to her right, uncaring for the raindrops that had gathered atop it.

“Mm. We’re the capable sort, I think,” she replied. “Speaking of, I’d ask you if you’re prepared for tomorrow, but I’m worried you’d take it as an insult.”

“Once, from you, perhaps. But no longer.”

Was she mistaken, or was humour creeping into his tone? He continued before she could dwell on it – and this time, he was definitely teasing her.

“I am well prepared, or else I should not be here. Shall you miss me?” he asked drily.

“Mm. If, on a scale from one to ten, one is being delighted to see the back of you and hoping you never return-”

“I rather regret asking now.”

“Let me finish - and if ten is I won’t eat or sleep ‘til he’s back, I’d give you…a solid…seven.”

“Seven?” he seemed surprised.

“And a half. Maybe even an eight, in your warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I’m not sure I have any warm and fuzzy moments.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re not half as scary as you’d have people think.”

“Scary?” he echoed with a snort. “Did you find me so fearsome when we first met?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“No. Truly.”

When she realised how sincere his question was, she gave it the thought it deserved before answering.

“Okay, scary was the wrong word. Not just because I don’t frighten that easily.”

He chuckled quietly, “I can believe that.”

“But…intimidating, maybe that’s the word. That’s your job, though, isn’t it?”

“And we did not have the most harmonious of introductions.”

“Memorable, though.”

That earned her another laugh.

“Certainly memorable, yes,” he hesitated then for a moment and then finally asked. “I must ask – do I intimidate you now, still?”

“No,” she admitted. “If I’m being honest, and I’m only being honest because of the Governor’s very good, very strong, wine…I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong about a first impression.”

Before they could linger too long on something that was just a touch too close to sincerity – and before she could overthink the way his entire face seemed to soften in response to her words – she pressed on.

“What about you? Do you still think I’m the mad malevolent influence I appeared to be in the beginning?”

“Mad, perhaps,” he teased drily. “But not malevolent.”

“However…?” she sensed the continuation in his tone.

“However,” he conceded, “I do think there is much you are not telling me.”

“Well. Have to save something for my biography.”

He didn’t appear to find that as amusing as she’d hoped.

“Look…anything I’m not telling you…it can’t harm anybody here. Truly. If it would, I’d leave.”

“I believe that. Once I may not have, but I do now.”

“Good.”

“Could it harm you?”

Theo didn’t respond.

“Miss Byrne- Theodora. You can tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters a great deal!”

“I don’t understand how we got here,” she fretted with a tired laugh, “we were just joking on.”

“We were just about to discuss something frankly, for perhaps the first time.”

“For the first time? What are you talking about, we speak all the time. Are you…are you saying you think I’m usually lying?”

“No, I do not, but we have never gotten anywhere before now.”

The words hit some alarming note deep within her.

“Gotten anywhere? What do you mean gotten anywhere? I don’t…”

Theo trailed off. Because she’d been about to say that she didn’t understand, but as her mind worked through the fog of the alcohol, the heat, and the panic, she suddenly found herself understanding all too well.

Whether her dawning realisation showed on her face, or Norrington could simply guess the natural route her thoughts were taking, she didn’t know – but he quickly tried to intercede.

“Theodora, I did not mean-”

“Have you…” the prospect seemed too ridiculous to be true – to voice – and it had her feeling sick to her stomach, but it was all that made sense, and the panic in his widening eyes only seemed to confirm it.

Because James Norrington did not panic.

“Have you only been speaking to me to try to get somewhere?” she asked. “The books, the lunches, the long conversations…has it…has it all been to get me to lower my guard? Have you just been biding your time, the whole time, hoping I might slip up? And…and what? Admit that I’m secretly a pirate? That I’m here to rob everybody and run?”

“Of course not,” he insisted intently, eyes boring into hers as though force of eye contact alone could force her to believe him. “I said I believe you mean no harm, and I spoke truly. I have come to believe that.”

Theo did not respond. Because there was more he wasn’t saying.

“I…I merely hoped that if you came to trust me, that you might…be willing to reveal whatever it is you have not.”

She felt sick. Physically sick. Or like she’d been punched in the chest. Both at once, really. This whole time. This whole time. Every conversation, every book, every lunch, every joke, every smile…it had never been because he’d just wanted to spend time with her, or even wanted to make things right. He’d been playing the long game.

And sure, she hadn’t thought the sudden U-turn had been a miraculous change in his opinion of her. She thought it had started off as a desire to keep Elizabeth happy by being amicable with her friend, but…but that it had morphed into…

God, she was an idiot. Exactly what she thought it had morphed into, or was morphing into, hadn’t been clear to her until now, upon being shown how wrong she was. Christ, she’d watched three very long movies of the guy mooning over Elizabeth, and she’d really thought that a couple of jokes and a fucking sandwich from her would change that? Even a little bit?

How many of their conversations had he endured rather that enjoyed? Listening to her prattle on the same way she listened to Mrs Spencer, waiting either for her to slip up, or shut up, only presence out of duty? Out of protectiveness towards the Swanns?

How stupid could she get?

Several half-baked words of parting flitted through her mind. Some of them were even vaguely clever. But she had neither the heart nor voice to actually say any of them. So instead, she rose to her feet – though she could hardly feel them beneath her.

“Theodora,” he faltered and tried to reach for her hand, but she yanked it back and took her leave.

Amelia was at the piano when she moved inside. That was good. Not just because she was a fantastic player – which she was – but because Theo knew by now that the night would soon draw to a close. A few more would play, the drinks would be finished, and the guests would trickle out.

While there was nothing she wanted to do more than race upstairs, get into her nightgown and hide from the world beneath the covers, she refused to do that. Not just out of pride, but because she felt numb, bereft, and mortified, all in one. And that was paralysing.

The song drew to a close as she walked in and moved to stand at the side of the room, but Amelia’s dark eyes found her the moment she was finished playing.

“Miss Byrne! You next!”

Norrington returned to the room as she spoke, but Theo didn’t look at him.

“I can’t play,” she said.

“Oh, but you must be able to play something. Anything! We aren’t snobs here,” no, just vipers, “we’ll admire a good effort if nothing else.”

“I agree,” Norrington intoned.

If Amelia looked delighted at that, Theo felt the exact opposite – and she saw her own horror reflected in Elizabeth’s reaction, from where she sat by her father.

“I will take a tu-” the blonde’s attempt to rescue her was interceded by her father.

The Governor, deep in his cups by the flush on his face, chuckled and interrupted Elizabeth.

“Come now, Elizabeth, you’ve already played twice. Give Miss Byrne her chance to shine – I’m sure you know something worthwhile, my girl, and none of us here are renowned composers. It is for novelty only, I assure you! You are among friends.”

He wouldn’t have insisted, had Norrington not encouraged Amelia’s spite.

And she couldn’t refuse, could she? Not now that the man who was housing her had bid it. He’d meant no harm, he had no way of knowing about the wound he was in the process of packing salt into, but Theo felt her nausea increase tenfold.

The drizzle outside had set into her hair and set it askew, and what remained of the damp on her skin and dress both quickly warmed in the head of the room until she felt like she was stepping into a sauna. It was suffocating, and only added to her discomfort.

Walking numbly to the piano felt like being trapped in a nightmare – the sort where you turned up to an exam you hadn’t studied for. Naked. She knew some things. Mostly from pissing about on friends’ keyboards, or from music classes in high school – a decade ago. Nothing compared to what people here knew. And nothing well. Chopsticks, the first two seconds of Für Elise, and the song from the sodding Titanic movie.

The final option was the one she knew the most, but that only spoke for how little she knew the others.

Sitting down at the piano, she didn’t meet Elizabeth’s gaze – because she knew the sympathy she’d see there would crack whatever composure she’d plastered on as she left the gardens. It took a bit of plodding to find the first note she was looking for (the ones in her old music classroom had the keys labelled with stickers and/or sharpie, but there was no such help here), and even that drew a muffled snicker from somewhere behind her.

The rest was no better. Halting and awkward, as she hit wrong notes and either had to muddle through it, or pause and find the right key. At first, she thought nothing could be worse than the silence behind her – because she’d never heard such a large crowd be so, so silent. But then another snicker followed. As well as a few coughs, whether from second-hand embarrassment or as an attempt to disguise yet more laughter.

And she didn’t take herself seriously. Anybody who met her knew that. Back home, this wouldn’t be embarrassing at all. Among friends. How many times had she sat in a friend’s bedroom, a joint between her lips as she muddled through Paint It Black, laughing at her own mistakes and leaning into it before handing the instrument to someone who actually knew what they were doing? But she was not among friends here. The conversation she’d just had proved that to her.

It was all she could think of, and it had her wanting to crawl out of her skin.

She ended after the first verse, utterly unable to bear trying to go on (ironic, considering the song choice), and the Governor began to clap. To give him credit, he wasn’t even being an ass.

“A valiant effort, Miss Byrne! A valiant effort!”

A few murmurs joined in, Groves insisting he should go next – no doubt a kind-hearted attempt to make whatever she’d just tried to play look good in comparison. Theo brushed by him, and then took her leave of the room entirely. That meant going by Norrington, but the night couldn’t get any worse anyway. And if she didn’t leave soon, she’d cry in front of everybody. She refused to do that.

She made it as far as the stairs before he caught up to her.

“Theo- Miss Byrne, I did not mean to-”

Whirling, she found he did indeed look horrified. Apparently his victory had not tasted as sweet as he’d thought. Something about that only made it worse.

“Do you realise, Captain, that every time you’re kind to me, it only lasts so long as it takes my guard to drop, and then you’re cruel again? Then you embarrass me, again?” her voice came perilously close to breaking and she took a moment, inhaled deeply and fixed her eyes at some point above his head rather than at him. “So, at what point do I become the idiot for falling for it?”

“I did not-”

“Just leave me alone. That’s all I ask. Leave me be. You’ll be rid of me soon enough.”

She turned and began to ascend the stairs before he could reply, but he – thankfully – made no move to call after her.

James watched Theodora ascend the stairs in the Governor’s mansion feeling positively nauseous with regret. Not only at what had transpired in the gardens, but at how gloriously his half-baked in-the-moment plan had backfired thereafter.

She was out of sight by the time he was aware of Groves’ approach, his lieutenant moving silently to stand by him.

“May I ask you a question from one man to another, and not as a Lieutenant to his superior?” he asked quietly.

“Fine,” James replied flatly.

“…What was your thought process behind that? Back there in the sitting room?”

The question cut more deeply than any admonishment might’ve.  

#catch the wind #ctw #james/theodora #fallen through time esta-elavaris #ftt #james norrington/oc #james norrington x oc #pirates of the caribbean fanfiction #pirates of the caribbean fanfic #potcfic #james norrington fanfiction #james norrington fanfic

[galahadwilder]

The Time I Got Reincarnated as an Evil Version of Myself

Chapter 3: Disagreements

Link to AO3 in Bio

~

Akumatization isn't exactly a common experience among Parisians. With a population of over 2 million and under 300 Akumatizations—maybe half that if only count individual victims instead of instances (most of that thanks to Mr. Pigeon)—that's slightly more than a percent of a percent. Still, there are enough of them that there are certain common experiences. Any one of them could tell you that Akumatization is really only traumatizing after the fact, when you find out what you've done. It's a mercy, really, not remembering. Being saddled with the memories of causing mayhem, havoc, and murder would be too much for the psyches of most people, and Paris would look very different.

The number of people who have successfully resisted Akumatization is much, much smaller. A percent of a percent of a percent. Three people, in total, have ever done it. And while they'll gladly tell you how they did it, in hopes that you get the same success, there's one thing all three of them keep very close to their chests—a secret only three people on Earth share.

Breaking an Akumatization hurts. And worse—you remember everything.

Chloé sits curled up on a cot in the nurse's office, pressing her knees to her chest, trying her best to fight down the bile that rises in her throat. Hawkmoth may not have been able to see the memories he dredged up, but he had pressed on the worst emotional response she has, forcing her to relive her most painful moments. All her traumas, all the things she'd buried, front and center. She feels... she feels...

Ugh. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

The room is too small. And normally she'd be happy for the darkness after a panic attack—she really has to thank Marinette again for helping her admit she has those—but right now it's too much like the darkness, like the black void of Akumatization. She can almost see her mother's face blank with apathy, without recognition, devoid of love. Something inside her chest is tearing, pulling apart, and God she just wants her sister right now.

Zoé is not the person who comes through the door.

"Chloé!" Lila gasps, bursting through the door of the sleeping room of the nurse's station, all false concern and smiles. "I heard you got Akumatized!"

Chloé's pain immediately twists beneath her ribcage into rage and confusion as the most unexpected person in Paris throws her arms around her shoulders. Lila--Lila was expelled, she's been banned from the building, what is she doing here? Chloé wants to pull away, to shove her off, to do something, but she's a deer in headlights, frozen, utterly unable to stop the horror that she's trapped in.

"Are you okay?" Lila asks.

Chloé's whole body contracts, as if making herself smaller will help her escape this. Her throat constricts, strangling her words into a choking whine.

Lila pulls back, holding Chloé at arms’ length. “I’m really impressed you were able to break the Akumatization,” she says with a smile that makes Chloé’s skin crawl. “You’ve been having such a hard time of it lately, you know, and, well…” Lila starts tearing up, wiping her eye with the heel of her hand. “I can’t believe Marinette did that to you,” she whimpers. "All we ever try to do is be nice to her, but—"

Something inside Chloé snaps.

"Nice?" she snarls.

Lila’s expression immediately changes—for a split second, Chloé can see the snake behind her carefully faked expression, and that snake is scared. Some part of Chloé, the part that still likes to hurt people, the part of her that is her mother, is happy with that, and she feels a brief burst of shame, but this is Lila. She deserves every bit of Chloé's vitriol and her own fear.

The rest of her, though? The rest of her is not happy. Another, primal, feral part of her, the part of her that spent ten years in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng in spite of all her attempts to bury it, the part of her that remembers the day Marinette finally gave her Pollen permanently, the part of her that looks at her friends, her hive, and says protect with your life, rises up like a beast and burns in her muscles, her bones, her rage, and suddenly her palms slam into Lila's stomach, Lila is on the ground, stunned, and Chloé is standing over her like a wasp looming in the air above a doomed tarantula.

"I don't know how you got on campus," she spits. “And I don’t care.” She steps forward, her gaze beating Lila down into the ground. "You say one more word about Marinette and... and..."

Lila stares up at her, eyes wide and glistening. "I—I go here," she says, and for once, her voice sounds almost honest. "I—Chloé, we're friends, aren't we?"

Chloé’s brain goes white. "Friends?" Chloé shrieks. Oh, she’s about to get Akumatized again, isn’t she. But if her Akuma form goes after Lila? Worth it. "After what you did?" She bends down, grabs a fistful of Lila's tacky plastic orange lapels. "Marinette may have forgiven you but I. Have. Not."

Now Lila is the deer in the headlights, except she's not on a road or even on a highway, Chloé Bourgeois is a bullet train barrelling down on a fawn that has wandered onto the tracks and Chloé will not stop. "You are ridiculous, Lila," Chloé snarls, barely managing to stop herself from biting the other girl's face. "Utterly. Ridiculous."

"Hey!" Zoé says, forcing the two of them apart. "Break it up, you two!"

Huh, Chloé thinks, suddenly aware of her sister's hand on her chest. She'd been so pissed at Lila, she hadn't even noticed Zoé come in.

"She just..." Lila stammers, and the shock on her face—oh, Chloé hopes it's real. "She just—”

Than her eyes narrow. For a moment, a grin flashes across her face, before her teary shock returns… but with significantly less reality to it.

”You’re—you’re breaking up with me?” Lila sobs.

Zoé’s head snaps around, and Chloé can feel her sister tense. But she—oh, God, haha, Lila thought…

Lila doesn’t know she’s out.

Chloé starts to laugh.

It’s almost a cackle, more than anything. It bubbles up from her stomach, snatching her breath, doubling her over. She’s laughing so hard she fills the entire space of the tiny nap room, so hard that both Zoé and Lila are looking at her like she’s grown a second head.

”You think—” Chloé gasps, clutching at her stomach, “—I’d cheat on Kagami—” Oh, she can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. It’s too funny. “—with you?”

This is, very definitely, not the response Lila was expecting, given the shock on her face. Probably she was thinking Chloé would loudly deny being gay (when of course anyone with half a brain could have seen she was), thus confirming to Zoé their “secret relationship” and making herself look like the victim.

Whoopsie for her!

Chloé’s laughter slows down as she plops back into her cot, and she sighs, wiping tears out of her eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” she gasps through the largest grin she’s had all day. “Utterly, completely, and totally ridiculous.”

The look on Lila’s face is priceless. There are few things more satisfying than outmaneuvering smug assholes, and it’s so rare to catch the liar off-guard like this. Blindsiding Lila is a joy all its own, and Chloé intends to savor the memory of that face for years to come.

“Wait a minute,” Zoé says, breaking the moment. “You know?”

”Of—of course she knows,” Lila begins. “She and I—”

"Shut up," Chloé growls, flexing her perfectly-manicured fingers like claws. "And get. Out."

Lila swallows, frozen for half a second, then she spins and bolts for the door. It slams shut behind her, leaving Chloé alone with her sister.

Chloé collapses back onto her cot, her back slamming against the exposed white brick. Now that the adrenaline is gone, the encounter is starting to leave a really bad taste in her mouth, the way any encounter with Lila does. The bile is rising in her throat again, and she just wants to strip off her own skin and fling it somewhere far away where she doesn't have to live in it. "What is with everyone today?" she mumbles.

"What is with—what's with you?" Zoé says, slamming her hand onto the cot next to Chloé's leg. "First the Pollen thing, then the coffee prank, then…” She points out the door. “Lila is a nice person, who for some reason after all the bridges you've burned decided to be your friend, and you just—"

"She hurt Marinette," Chloé mumbles. "Nobody hurts Marinette."

“And then!” Zoé continues, heedless of Chloé’s interruption. “I’ve been trying to make you feel comfortable enough to admit to yourself that you’re gay for months, and then you just… casually? Out of spite?”

Admit that she's... what?

Wait. Something’s—something’s wrong. That's... not at all something she'd expect Zoé to say.

“I—I came out before we met,” Chloé says, haltingly. She's confused, and more than a little hurt. “You—you know that. You’ve met my girlfriend. We—” When she’d found out about Zoé, she’d been pissed enough for Akumatization—but afterwards, afterwards, it had been such a relief, such a joy, to have just one family member who accepted her as she was. “We went on double dates with you and Luka.” Had Zoé not known, all this time? Had she—had none of it mattered?

Zoé looks at her like she’s grown a second head. “Luka?” she says. “Marinette’s ex? I’ve barely even spoken to him, much less… been on dates!”

Chloé’s pulse is stabbing at her ears now. She has no idea what’s going on. Zoé’s confusion—has everyone else been feeling the same thing, today? Is that why they suddenly all hate her? Did some… Akuma or something wipe all their memories of her?

Except she was Akumatized, and Hawkmoth can’t have two out at once unless he’s Scarlet Moth, and that definitely didn’t happen today, and he’d never bother going Scarlet over her because he apparently still thinks of her as the nasty girl nobody cares about so he doesn’t think anyone would care about her the way they do about Marinette. A Sentimonster wouldn’t have this much reach, wouldn’t be able to make EVERYONE forget—

She can see Zoé going through the same mental calculations in her head. Something messed with someone’s memories. Hawkmoth is the most likely—okay, let's be real, only—candidate.

”You—you can’t be Akumatized, you rejected it,” Zoé says. “That means—” She turns pale. “You’re—you’re not my sister.”

Chloé’s heart stops. “W-what?” she manages.

Zoé backs away from her, eyes wide and immobile. “You’re a Sentimonster.”

The way she says the word—as if it's a swear, as if it's a curse—stabs straight through Chloé’s gut. She wants to vomit. Chloe is better at managing her anger when it comes to people she loves. Honestly, she is. But she never expected... from her own sister of all people... Don't get Akumatized, don't get Akumatized, don't get Akumatized—

Shut up and burn her, says the part of her that is her mother, and Chloé ignites.

She leaps to her feet, heedless of how Zoé is forced back, heedless of the terrified expression on her sister's face, barely aware of anything except her own rage. “OF COURSE I'M A FUCKING SENTIMONSTER!” she screams, reaching for her necklace. “You—you helped me steal my Amok from Mom! It was your plan! You—”

Instead of her mother’s wedding ring, Chloé’s fingers close on the necklace to find empty air.

Her entire body goes cold. She looks at the stunned, horrified Zoé, and suddenly she's in freefall. Part of her wonders if this is how Adrien felt when his bodyguard pitched him off the Montparnasse, but the rest is too caught up in the sickening drop of her gut, the fire in her extremities, the vacuum where her lungs are supposed to be.

"My..." she croaks, barely able to speak. "My Amok. It's—" She swallows as best she can around the lump that is digging spikes into her throat. "It's gone."

@emma-d-klutz @generalluxun @naresar @ninepostsstuff @grotesquewombat @erisluna35 @oblivionhold @all-peristeronic @chaos-has-theories @into-september @claws-and-bee-stings @279ital @drawing2cope @theramendragon @jameskillianreaper @wild-mare-of-prosecution @blessedfatui @luckychatons @ninepostsstuff @sailorladybug @ladybeug @ymfingsteadilyon @steelblaidd @alexseanchai @dravidious @lowbatterylamp @nekoisadumbname @lemonadeready @tobytober @sunny-key @amandayetagain @darkwolf13reblogs @faunina @marichatsajjvv @mugchild @greenbloodedskink @miraculoussly @flightfoot @chaos-has-theories @multimousenette @spookyyarn @cosmictacos @toychicraft-dump @dragonking1987 @thesernotthedroidsurlooking4 @coracal @erisluna35 @merryberry01 @claws-and-bee-stings @princess-of-the-corner

#the time i got reincarnated as an evil version of myself #that time i got reincarnated as an evil version of myself #i got the tag wrong the first time whoops #original content #my fic #fic #ml fic #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #zoe lee #chlogami #sentimonsters #sentimonster chloe #angst #reborn as a villainess #otome isekai #chloe redemption #one sided chlonette #lukzoe #progress is not linear

[rhoorl]

Week in Review | Sept. 3

Happy September and welcome to another week in review! This past week had been circled on my calendar for a while. Do you ever have those weeks that you know are going to be an absolute cluster? Well, that was this week for me at work. On top of that, we had a hurricane to track...luckily we are all safe!.

I was so overwhelmed by all of the messages and comments sending good vibes my way this week. It seriously gave me some much-needed wind in my sails. Anyway, here we go to my fic recs and other fun stuff under the "read more" because I'm apparently super long-winded this week in everything I do 😆

Fics I read this week:

Three of my absolute favorite fics posted final chapters this week. Congrats to Megan, Mel, and Jo for wrapping up the main stories, and I'm looking forward to your epilogues and anything else you share! 

Frankie Morales

The Layover by @goodwithcheese - I’ve been shouting about this one for a while now and Megan just keeps knocking it out of the park. While I’m sad that this story came to an end, I’m so excited to reread it and for the epilogue. (I'm especially keen to reread that scene where Frankie and the boys clear the yard)! 😉

Shared Breaths by @frenchiereading - Another great Frankie fic that I’ve been following for a while! Frankie deserves the world and this story is just so sweet! The epilogue Mel posted was just … ugh so good! It made me feel every emotion. And she also posted a behind-the-scenes post that was so interesting and insightful. I love seeing how others organize and work on their stories.

Just a Number by @linzels-blog - There was a fun little extra published this week about a girls’ night that was especially fun! I'm loving Frankie so much in this.

The Pilot and His Girl by @avastrasposts - If you’ve followed me for a while, you know I love this TLOU/TF crossover so damn much. And with the inclusion of a couple of Millers into the story recently I’ve been over the moon.

Javier Peña

Late Night Texts by @mvtthewmurdvck - The concept for this fic is so good and I love how the relationship between these two evolved. I was an utter mess reading the last chapter. Bravo!

La Camisa Negra by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin - I feel like a moth called to a flame anytime there is a mention of black shirt Javi … and now there's a whole one-shot dedicated to it 🫠. Speaking of Angela, she put together a compilation of her favorite Frankie fics and was sweet enough to include Delta Landscaping, so thank you!

It’s Never Too Late by @javierpena-inatacvest just gave us all of the content this week! Besides, the main story there was also this ask called Again that made me lose my damn mind! 🫠

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

The House by @gemmahale. Chapter 3 was posted this week and it was a fun journey through time to see how OFC grew up going to her adopted grandfather’s farm which was located next to the Stateman Distillery.

Marcus Pike

Sick Day by @trulybetty - Our favorite FBI agent is under the weather. I just love the fluff and domesticity of this, there's nothing like someone taking care of you when you're sick. 🥹

Dieter Bravo

I am deep in my Dieter feels these days with Working Title and as a result, I haven’t been reading much with him. The only exception is  Destiny & Deliverance by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings - Ugh, this one is so good! Between all of the teasers and hints dropped along the way, I’m so intrigued to see where this one is going!

Benny Miller

I’ve been in the deepest of deep dives with all things Garrett Hedlund, particularly Benny Miller. I just have to show this post again and the photo that came out with Garrett and Charlie (and then the subsequent video of Garrett at the roller rink). I mean, sir, are you serious?! I’m still not fully recovered. Thank you @musings-of-a-rose for giving me a crash course in all the Garrett content I've missed … and for letting me run feral in your DMs about this man 😂 Also, today is Garrett's 39th birthday, so yay. I hope that he has a great day!

Anyway, @wildemaven posted a one-shot titled  Supply & Demand that shows Benny at his best - sexy, charming, and sweet.

Things I watched:

I didn’t really get a lot of TV in this week that wasn’t the 100th rewatch of Frozen for my daughter. We have tried to sprinkle in some other movies like Tangled and Zootopia, but Elsa is her girl and who are we to deny her?

Last week, I talked about the method my husband and I use to go and see movies. This week, I went and saw The Curse of the Demeter. I know this is based on a chapter in Dracula, but I’ve never read it, so I can’t give any insight as to how true to the text the movie was or wasn’t. It was fine. Like, it was suspenseful…not super scary (I mean, you know it’s Dracula and he’s going to bite people). If I had to put it on a scale of 1-5, it would be like a 3. Perfectly fine movie, but there are other movies I’d tell you to go see first.

My husband went and saw The Haunted Mansion after I raved about it last week and he confirmed a lot of my thoughts, especially that LaKeith Stanfield is amazing in it.

Not in theaters, but I watched Mojave last night - that scoundrel Garrett Hedlund strikes again, but Oscar Issac is in it too! I liked it, but then again it may have been because of how hot Garrett looked and sounded in it! I mean look at this man:

Things I'm excited for:

Tonight I’m going to my first-ever Halloween Horror Nights event at Universal. We have a babysitter so mom and dad are ready for a date night! The only mission I have is to do the Last of Us house. There’s also some cool Last of Us-themed food that I want to try as well. I’ll report back and share some photos if anyone is interested. I'm sure to be channeling my inner Pedro-at-the-Beyonce-concert and saying "I'm fucking dying" at how amazing it's all going to be.

Fic updates:

Both WIPs had new chapters this week! I keep adding ideas for future one-shots and possibly a series, I’m not quite sure yet. I need to concentrate on the two I have going right now though! Thank you to everyone who has read and left me feedback and sent messages - it means so much!

Anyway, that’s all for me! If you made it this far, thank you for reading my ramblings. I hope you have a great week!

#rhoorl week in review #pedro pascal fanfiction #garrett hed

[chaoxfix]

Prompt knuckles learns sonic is more competent at living ina jungle than he first imagined

edited the crap out of this one today lol itll look different now

When Knuckles wakes up, he feels one degree away from being boiled alive. 

It’s an exaggeration, but only barely. The only reason he knows he’s not in a pot being boiled echidna stew is the amount of fluff around him. It can only mean that he’s being cuddled by something soft, with an awful lot of poofy fur. Ugh. Did feral animals find the Master Emerald shrine again? Just because he’s warm does not mean he’s free real estate-! 

Knuckles is about to get up and shoo the animals off when he finally blinks his eyes open and finds his vision full of yellow ears, the color only muted by the darkness around him. 

And realizes, suddenly, that he recognizes this kid. Kid as in kit, kit as in fox kit. What the hell is Tails doing out here, and why are they cuddling, and most importantly, how is Tails so heavy? 

Knuckles clumsily reaches up to shake the kid awake, but his hand gets snatched away before it can connect. 

That only makes him more confused – but less so, when tired green eyes blink down at him, half glowing in the dark.

Sonic holds tightly to Knuckles’s wrist, keeping him from shaking Tails awake. “Whoa, where's the fire, pal? No need to wake him. What's wrong?"

Knuckles wants to reply that it's hot enough to be a fire in here, but his tongue feels oddly heavy. He scrunches his face up; all he wants is to know where he is and what's going on.

Sonic gives him an odd look. "Chatty. Alright, Knucklehead. We’re sleeping in shifts, and it’s Tails’s turn to sleep, so don't wake him, 'kay?” he says, and Knuckles just stares. “Welcome back, by the way. You were knocked out so hard I thought you'd never wake up.” 

Knuckles squints at him. 

“Why’s it so hot?” Knuckles finally asks, and it comes out wrong from his mouth, clumsy and dry. 

Sonic frowns at him, brows angling oddly. He reaches for Knuckles’s head, where it feels strangely tender. “Well,” he says, saying nothing about Knuckles’s injury, “We’re cuddling for warmth, so I’d argue that’s a good thing.” 

“Says you. You’re on the top – meanwhile I’m echidna flambee.” 

“Hi, echidna flambee, I’m Sonic the Hedgehog,” Sonic says. Knuckles groans, even though it hurts his throat. “And FYI, it’s actually pretty chilly up here, you just got lucky to be so insulated with the ground.” 

Knuckles blinks slowly. “Insulated?”

“We made most of a burrow. It’s a little too airy for my tastes, but there’s three of us, so it had to be pretty big, and I couldn’t totally curl up, so-” 

Knuckles realizes that his head is actually killing him, now that Sonic’s talking. He decides once and for all that he actually hates his friend’s voice and every single pitch he reaches, even at this quiet, nighttime hush. Knuckles squeezes his eyes shut, but it doesn’t block out the sound. He suddenly misses when Sonic wasn't so chatty, back when they were kids.

“Uh,” Sonic says, oblivious. “You okay? Something hurt?” 

Knuckles grunts. Pretends his head doesn’t feel like it’s about to split open. “You two are lying on top of me, and Tails’s elbow is digging into my ribs. I wouldn’t call myself hurt, but you’re not exactly comfortable.” 

“Oh, good, I thought something was actually wrong-” 

“I want out from under here.”

Sonic huffs. “In a bit, okay? Tails is still asleep, and I’m on guard. We’ve got to stay warm, but I can try to add another air channel for you to get a bit more of a breeze-”

“Trust me, staying warm is not the issue here. Just switch with me if you’re so cold,” Knuckles snaps. “I can be on guard instead.” 

“Uh, no,” Sonic says. “No way.”

“No-?”

“No.” Sonic, grudgingly, takes on a more honest tone. ��Listen, okay? You got hurt. You haven’t stayed awake and aware for long. And if you move much more, you’re going to wake Tails. I’m doing a good job protecting you guys right now, and I don’t need to sleep yet. So close your eyes, think cool, breezy thoughts, and go back to sleep. Unless something’s bleeding again, you’re just gonna have to deal.” 

Knuckles growls. But Sonic puts a finger over his mouth, then pulls it away and tsks.

“Come off it. Be mad at me, whatever, but do it quieter. It’s not Tails’s fault, so don't wake him up over this." When Knuckles looks unmoved, Sonic rolls his eyes. "Don’t tell me there’s never been a way-too-hot day in Angel Island that you didn’t just choose to sleep through in the shade,” Sonic says. “So just do that. The dangerous stuff will be gone soon, and then we can try to move again.” 

Knuckles narrows his eyes. Then, reluctantly asks, “...What dangerous stuff?”

“We’re in the jungle,” Sonic says. “All the nocturnal stuff out here wants a snack. So the best way we can stay safe is burrowing, and making sure the only airflow is coming from the top.” 

“...And what’s stopping them from finding us and digging us out-?”

“Spikes.” Sonic grins. “Why do you think I’m on top, knucklehead?” 

Knuckles clicks his tongue at the nickname. “Jerk.” 

“Bigger jerk,”  Sonic says. He grins down at Knuckles, meeting purple eyes in the dark. Both sets glow just a little in the limited reflected light, both originating from nocturnal species – though the shine on their eyes is nothing to Tails. Then, finally, Sonic relents. “...If you’re really that hot, you might just be thirsty. There’s some water in the bag by Tails’s hip.” 

Knuckles nods his head, just a little. Then, awkwardly roots around for it, finally finding a small satchel with some water bottles. 

“Might take some teamwork,” Sonic says. “You up for a challenge? I can help-” 

“Go to hell,” Knuckles says. But when he can’t quite get the cap off with one hand, Sonic holds it steady, and doesn’t even tease him that much – not until Knuckles needs help waterfalling it into his mouth. They manage to avoid Tails’s head, but not much else. 

“Save some for Tails,” Sonic says, when Knuckles doesn’t stop halfway. “We’ll find more fresh water as soon as dawn hits and we can get outta here, but he might get thirsty before that.” 

“And you?” 

“Can’t really drink from this angle,” Sonic says – the only one of them facing downward. He smiles like it’s no big thing. “Relax. I’ve gone wayyy longer without water. I won’t be thirsty for a long while.” 

Knuckles finds that hard to believe – but upon further review, not as hard as he thinks. Sonic very rarely has to drink much water, even after lengthy runs. Huh. The only exceptions are after exploring hot places for too long, but even then, Sonic only looks annoyed – not panting as bad as Tails does, or fanning himself like Amy. Sonic probably makes up for not carrying around water by always having some at meals, Knuckles thinks. 

(And never drinking dehydrants, like coffee – though that’s probably more that Sonic would vibrate out of this plane of existence if he had caffeine.)

“Take it easy on the wilderness-explorer stuff,” Knuckles finally says. “You’ve got nothing to prove. It’s not like you’re feral.” 

“What, a guy’s gotta be feral to know how to survive out in the elements?" He smirks. "What does that make you, up in your island?” 

Knuckles glowers. “An actual wilderness explorer expert. Unlike you.” 

“Unlike me?” 

“Yeah. You’re such a city boy,” Knuckles says. “A million billboards have your face on them down in Station Square.” 

“I don’t even have a house. And you think I’m a city boy?” There’s actual offense in his tone – surprised offense, like Knuckles has said something truly off-the-wall. “Good to know. What'd you think, I was just some kid who ran away from home to fight Eggman?” 

Knuckles, admittedly, had never thought about it much. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Sure. Why not. Why wouldn’t you be?” 

Sonic stares at him, expression totally blank. “So I’m just- some guy?” 

“Yeah?” Knuckles shrugs. “Duh. Of course you’re just some guy.” 

For some reason, that phrase seems to break Sonic. He blinks at Knuckles for a very long time – clearly surprised, and a little put off. Then, out of nowhere, he laughs. Then, he punches Knuckles’s shoulder. “Yeah, alright. You got me. I’m just some guy. Ran away from home and never looked back, that’s me.” 

Knuckles gets the feeling that this is somehow untrue. Sonic’s grin tells him enough.

But it also tells him that Sonic doesn’t mind him getting it wrong. 

Knuckles punches his arm right back. “Don’t think you’re special, city boy. The only one with a magical destiny is me. Anything you know about surviving in the wild-”

“Yup. Learned it in a book,” Sonic chirps. 

Knuckles huffs. “You read wilderness survival books?” Because the image of Sonic curled up somewhere with a book is… Not entirely unbelievable, Knuckles realizes. But not one he would’ve immediately associated with Sonic. Which he thinks – maybe that’s the point? 

“Audio books,” Sonic says, not allowing him to confirm that little mental picture. Instead of a stationary, still Sonic – one that no one has ever been able to reconcile with the real deal – it lets him paint a picture of Sonic racing through the world with a story keeping pace with him.  “You know. For when I’m running.” 

Whatever fiction Sonic is building – or not building, because maybe there are grains of truth here, since he’s certainly seen Sonic with headphones in while running – Knuckles decides to feed into it. To believe it until there’s a reason not to. 

Because if there is something bigger at play with Sonic’s history– 

Well. If Sonic wanted anyone to know, he’d have told them. And that’s enough for Knuckles to decide not to pry. 

For the same reason, Knuckles thinks, that Sonic isn’t prying about where Knuckles learned all his wilderness survival skills. Maybe for Sonic, the answer isn’t ‘parents who died when he was young, but still old enough to learn how to keep himself safe.’ But Knuckles doesn’t really need to know the answer. Doesn’t think Sonic wants to share something that might change how others look at him. 

“Like you listen to anything but rock,” Knuckles says. 

Sonic grins. “Sure, sure – but you haven’t lived until you’ve listened to the Chaotix try a podcast.” 

“...What’s a podcast?” 

“Oh, buddy. When we get outta this burrow, just you wait.” Sonic laughs again, then punches his shoulder. “You should go back to sleep though, dawn’s not for another few hours – and if I have to describe the last episode and how Vector tried to explain NFTs to Mighty and Ray, who’ve been off the grid for the last four years–” 

“NFTs?” 

Sonic chokes on a laugh. “–Like I was saying. If I had to explain it, I’d laugh too hard and wake Tails.” 

Tails, for his part, grumpily elbows Sonic in the stomach. 

“Heh. Whoops. Sorry, buddy,” Sonic says, and lightly rubs the little fox’s ears, right in that sweet spot all canines have. “Go back to sleep.” 

“Great, you’re putting him back to sleep,” Knuckles gripes, though not quietly enough to force Tails to wake. “Stop that. We were supposed to switch places if he woke up.”  

“Nope, I told you not to wake him and that I had things handled up here.”

"I never agreed to that. And after all that fuss, your laughter was what woke him anyway. If we switch places I'll be a much more responsible guard, if you're so worried about him sleeping.” 

“Nah, he's fine,” Sonic says, and there’s an unabashedly fond look on his face as he continues putting the little fox back to sleep. “Now seriously, close your eyes and take a nap. We’re fine here, it’s just another few hours til dawn.” 

Knuckles grumbles under his breath. But his head still hurts, and it’s hot, but not so unpleasantly hot now that he’s had some cool water – and fine, he’ll admit it. It feels strangely safe to sleep here, underground, with a friend watching over him. He wonders if the Master Emerald feels this safe when he watches over it. 

Wonders for a second how common this was for Sonic and Tails on their adventures. Wonders, just for a moment, if the little fox might have more insight on where Sonic came from, if he’s not a city boy. 

Then he falls asleep, and doesn’t bother with that line of thinking when he wakes up. 

His friends are his friends – what matters more than refilling their water in the morning and finishing their adventure? What matters more than trashing Eggman’s base and high-fiving at the end? 

(Knuckles thinks he might be hanging around Sonic too much with that last one, but he minds a surprisingly little amount.)

#chaoxfix