#<- because i DO think bad would be down to ~fornicate~

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

Cant sleep so im thinking about ayhalo

I think its like. one sided. qaypierre WOULD smooch that demon and take him on dates. qbad would not recognize anything as a romantic gesture. aypierre could throw a bouquet of chocolate roses at him and bad would just be like ! thank you :}

like they love each other, absolutely. they TRUST each other, to the point where i’d even say it gets in the way of bad seeing aypierre as anything more than a good friend. that’s his guy. The dude always in his corner. Friend resource label: team mate (coparent) (down to help kidnap people). bad doesnt do classic romantic relationships- all of his relationships are INCREDIBLY queer, but the closest he usually gets to what others read as romance is a classic chewtoy4chewtoy dynamic. He LOVES to fuck with people and he loves to get fucked with and if there’s a nice jawline or pretty muscles included?? huge bonus !!

he’s got something- not kinder, with aypierre? not calmer, either, but stable, maybe. pierre has proven, over and over again, that he’s on bad’s side. Spying on tubbo, encouraging bad’s pranks, the kidnapping- i can’t call it a reliable dynamic, not with how paranoid bad is, even when he trusts, but there is still a feeling of understanding that, wherever pierre’s limits are for when he cant support bad (or genuinely turn against him), it hasnt been reached yet

aypierre, on the other hand, i dont know enough about to be absolutely sure but there are some Vibes. ironically, i think hes feeling like his relationships are unreliable. max was going to have their baby, and then he wasnt, and then he left him, then max fucking died. plus whatever is happening with him and ayrobot, which probably leaves him feeling like he cant rely on Himself. like he had, if not a little crush on bad, at least some Interest in him, before. as well as several islanders. i remember the days of the Bed Threat.

but thats part of it, too? because those flings didnt have that emotional connection, and i always got the sense that he started looking for that with maximus, to Love and Be Loved rather than pure lust. To care about someone, genuinely, and be cared about in return. but he didnt get that with the flings, and We know that max was using him, but i dont know if he did, but maybe he had a feeling about it and maybe he also had a feelinf about maximus’ feelings towards bad and maybe- there’s something about that? A little push of not-spite-not-projection onto bad.

because bad IS that reliability, right now. he’s a fucking gremlin. a bastard. a prankster silly guy. he trusts aypierre and aypierre trusts him and they dont share everything but so often, when it comes down to it, it is them against the world. them in the corner, caught, aypierre shouting about kissing as a cover for their crimes while bad runs giggling away from him.

[nmakii]

The doe darling fic was so sweet! Yan!Alastor is really perfect husband material.. which has me thinking.. How would he propose to his darling and what kind of wedding would it be?? 😳 What are his thoughts leading up to asking and how nervous would he get if he does? Thank you so much! ❤️

LOOK INTO YOUR EYES, AND THE SKY’S THE LIMIT!

— yandere!alastor x fiance to be!reader

— bad day @ school today, this made me feel better HAHAHA

alastor always knew his darling would be the one he’d marry. call it love at first sight, call it an obsession, call it what you want— you were his from the beginning

but now, he’s finally made you fall hard in love with him, as madly in love with him as he has been with you. it’s time for him to pop the question

he’ll create the ring himself out of the shadows of his powers, no ring made by those lowlife jewelers will be perfect enough to have the pleasure to rest itself on his doe’s pretty ring finger; no gem will shine bright enough, no ore will be pure enough, and simply— nothing will ever be good enough.

a precious rose gold ring encrusting a huge diamond, shined to perfection. and, on the inside of the ring; ‘my darling doe’

he’d find it really hard to find the perfect time to propose… after all, this is a once in a lifetime event. everything has to be perfect.

there was no turning back now. tonight would be the night. as he walked with you, arm interlocked with his— his breath heaved. alastor’s eyesight hazed as his muscles stiffened under your gentle touch.

“alastor? dear, are you okay?” you tilted your head at his odder-than-usual behavior. “of course, my doe! why wouldn’t i be?” he said with a bit of fake bravado, the radio static growing with his anxiety.

what if you’d say no? all this courting, just for you to say no. you’ll marry him, that’s the fact. but, it’s up to you whether or not you choose the hard way. he really hopes that you’ll say yes. he wouldn’t want to taint your image of him because of a simple bump in your relationship.

here you are, ducky park— one of your favorite places in hell. the cold iron fence protecting residents from falling into the fiery lava pit as many of lucifer’s ducks follow the flow of the lava.

as you arrived to your favorite lamp post, you took in the gruesome sights of hell, sinners fornicating, murdering, and fighting.

alastor looked down at you, nothing but pure worship in his eyes. you noticed the soft eyes that were gazing down on you, meeting his eyes with your pretty eyes.

“very well then…” alastor sighed, confusing you to no end. he got down on his right knee, pulling a wine-red velvet box from the pocket of his coat.

and then, he revealed the beautiful ring he made for you, drowning in the gorgeous way your big eyes widened in shock, your breath stopping a beat.

he was finally doing it! alastor took a deep breath, calming the nerves that dared to ruin his speech. “my doe, from the very first moment i met you, i have been nothing short of infatuated. i’ve been obsessed with you, from your immeasurable beauty all the way to your sweet innocent heart. i’d like to spend the rest of my afterlife by your side… as your husband. that is… if you allow me that pleasure?” alastor asked breathlessly, taking your left hand in his.

you stood in shock, trying to get the words out of your mouth. “ah… i…” you stuttered. “yes. i will.” you sighed, lifting alastor to his feet.

alastor’s smile grew as he ecstatically placed the ring on your finger, marking you as his darling. you grinned as you pulled him into a kiss, sweetly albeit a bit cliche.

despite wanting to show off his cute doe and now soon-to-be spouse, alastor would only hold a small wedding. close friends of yours, the staff of the hotel, and rosie!

just like your engagement ring, he’d craft the rings himself! two bright gold wedding bands. the initial A carved into the band, boldened by the black ink in the crevice. and for him, a similar band, one imprinted with your initial.

the venue would be just right out of the hotel, within the gates as to make sure you don’t run away or anything! we wouldn’t want that, would we?

he’d let you handle the decor and menu of the wedding, just as long as his darling is happy!

of course, he wouldn’t want you stressing out just before the big day, let your future husband take care of the seating. strange how no men are near your table…

but, don’t fuss over that! you’re finally married to alastor, aren’t you happy, doe?

[waynes-multiverse]

Can I put in the request for Ben to “support the fine arts?” 🤣

A/N: Hahaha you may! Hope you have fun with this! Based on this drabble and this little ask 😝

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSFW, smut (oral m), degrading, dirty talk, weird jealousy on both side, SB being a manipulative asshole

Word Count: 2.5k

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles Masterlist

He Comes In Colors

The chatter in the classroom quiets down as your teacher, Mrs. Fournier, enters. You and your friends finish your sentences in hush and take your seats in front of your respective easels, not wanting to upset the strict, older lady again.

But instead of her usual cantankerous and bitter features, she sports an unusually bright smile and pinkly flushed cheeks today, still giggling like a schoolgirl over a crush and looking in the direction of the hallway as she walks to her desk.

Bashfully, she clears her throat and fights to regain her composure. “Class, we have a change of plans. I know we were supposed to devote our attention to the intricacies of nature today, but an opportunity presented itself we simply cannot pass up on. We have a very special guest this beautiful afternoon, who so graciously volunteered to be our model for this class.”

Your chest tightens slightly at her words, encumbered with a dark forewarning that settles in your gut. And as you catch a flicker of an all too familiar sage green kimono by the door, the bad omen in your belly only grows.

He wouldn’t dare, you think. Would he?

But you don’t have to answer your own question. Deep down you already know.

Of course, he would.

“Ladies and gentlemen, meet our model for today – the one and only Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier introduces, and you watch with parted lips as your stupid boyfriend strides into the classroom with an even stupider grin.

Mrs. Fournier claps with vivid adoration, expecting the class to follow her lead, but you can’t bring yourself to give him more than an annoyed slow clap. You shoot him a glare, and the smirk directed at you tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing. He aims to get on your nerves. He wants you to be mad.

Now, you’re sure you’ve done something in the last couple of days to upset him, and this is his way to enact his revenge instead of talking to you like an emotionally intelligent human being. Because Ben’s a fucking petty child, and this is how he deals with his feelings.

Ben offers his most charming red-carpet smile. “Pleasure to be here and support the fine arts, Mrs.–”

“Fournier,” your teacher provides all too helpfully.

“Ah, like fornicate. I can remember that,” Ben quips with a flirtatious smirk, while you suppress the sudden urge to stab him with the sharp end of your paintbrush.

You half expect the French woman to be appalled by the dirty joke. But to your big surprise, your over-sixty teacher only giggles in response like a high school freshman when the quarterback winks at her in the hallway.

“It is such an honor to have you here in my classroom, Soldier Boy,” Mrs. Fournier raves with a blush haunting her cheeks. “You have been my favorite superhero ever since I was a little girl.”

“Oh, so only ten years, huh?” Ben flirts shamelessly, all the while sending you little glances that let you know that this is your punishment.

Do you have a clue yet what you did? Nope! And you suppose you will never find out. You just have to get through this.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Soldier Boy devilishly rubs his palms together as he struts into the middle of the room, and with one flawless swing, he drops the robe and stands before you (and your classmates) in all his god-given glory. And boy, did God give – not only with two hands but probably with six or seven.

Mrs. Fournier gasps unabashedly with a palm on her weak heart and goddamn drool in your mouth, causing your frown only to deepen.

“Marvelous! Simply marvelous,” she rhapsodizes and is close to fainting. Of course, your boyfriend enjoys all this attention greatly. “It’s like staring at the statue of David!”

“Oh, please…” you mutter with a miffed scoff and roll your eyes back, but that only earns you a scolding glare from your teacher. You know then that showing your displeasure with the situation will only secure you a failing grade.

Ben then props his foot up on a little stool right in front of you, his cock hanging heavy and long between his muscular bow legs. And no, it’s not inflated to its full size but still as impressive and formidable as a lion king during a safari.

His gaze only sweeps across you before it lingers on your friend Alexander. There’s a cocky and yet threatening glint in your boyfriend’s eyes as he assesses the male next to you.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Soldier Boy prompts daringly. Only your boyfriend could talk about his dick like that and not even feel an ounce of shame. “Don’t worry, squirt. I’m sure yours is just fine,” he adds, but you know he doesn’t mean it.

And then, suddenly, it dawns on you – why he has decided to infiltrate your art class.

Two nights ago, you went out with Alexander and a few other friends from class for drinks and didn’t invite Ben. Mostly because Ben is obnoxious when he meets new people and is a little too “old-school values” for your hipster friends. It would take ages alone to even explain all their different sexualities and pronouns to your last-century boyfriend. You just wanted one night for yourself, and you knew now that hurt his feelings.

You even felt a tiny bit bad and guilty but by far not enough to accept this current shit show he was delivering.

“Oh my, I don’t want to be too forward but may I–” Your teacher doesn’t finish her sentence, but her reaching hand is suggestion enough.

Soldier Boy chuckles amusedly. “Oh, you may,” he says but smirks at you as you gape at him in utter indignation. “What kind of hero would I be, if I said no? After all, this body belongs to every American citizen.”

And as Mrs. Fournier’s greedy palm stretches for your boyfriend’s perky buttcheek, something inside you snaps. You jump up from your seat, all wild and fuming, before you realize everyone is staring at you with wide eyes and confused brows. No one knows you’re dating him, so your upset seems completely unwarranted to everyone else in the room. Only Ben’s lips rise triumphantly.

“Be-… Soldier Boy,” you correct yourself and clear your throat, forcing a tight-lipped smile on your face. “A word, please?”

“Y/N, we’re in the middle of a class. Show our guest some respect,” your teacher demands chidingly.

But Ben soothes her anger with another charming smile. “Oh, absolutely no problem, beautiful,” he says and causes Mrs. Fournier to blush once more. “Y/N here is clearly an adoring fan, and I always have time for my fans.”

“Yes, I’m a huge fan. I’ve never met a real celebrity before. My grandma will be so thrilled when I tell her all about it,” you lie as dryly as possible. Honestly, you’re so pissed you can’t get yourself to act remotely convincing.

“We’ll be right back,” Ben excuses with a tight smile.

He quickly throws his robe back on and grabs your upper arm, ushering you outside. You want to stop in the hallway, but he drags you further and shoves you into a supply closet, closing the door a little too roughly.

“You know the rules: no fucking drama in public. It’s not good for my image,” he reminds you sternly, and you try not to scoff.

“How dare you say that after waltzing into my goddamn class? Ben, my education is serious. You don’t mess with that,” you point out angrily and fold your arms over your tits. “I don’t have time for your petty revenge.”

“Yeah, you never have fucking time,” he huffs scornfully.

“Is this because I didn’t invite you for drinks with my friends?” You cock an eyebrow, shooting him a knowing look.

“No, this is because you went out with that fucking empty nutsack in there,” he bites and points an angry finger at you. “And by the way, you’d be fucking lucky to show me off. I’m a fucking catch! Have you seen how those bitches fawned over me in there?”

“Who? Mrs. Fournier? That old hag hasn’t seen any action since the French Revolution. She’d fawn over a fucking trash bag,” you retort and watch Ben purse his lips dejectedly. You smirk a little at your win.

But you don’t want to antagonize him more. You can tell that you hurt his fragile ego with your rejection, and while he fucking annoys you and drives you incredibly mad sometimes, you’re still deeply in love with the idiot in front of you. He does have his sweet moments every once in a while. He comes in many colors, a whole palette of different shades.

“Look, uhm, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I didn’t mean to, okay? I don’t want you to be jealous. You have no reason to be, alright? I love you, asshole,” you tell him with a small smile.

“Fine, maybe I was a little jealous,” he admits after a beat. “But not of that scrawny twinkie in there.”

“Alright, maybe I was a little jealous, too,” you remark to make him feel better. “But not of that old French whore in there.” Ben snorts at that, chuckling. “So, do you forgive me and get the fuck outta my class now?”

Ben muses slyly and then grins. “I don’t think that apology was good enough.” Your brow draws into a deep frown at his words. Whatever has gotten into his mind now can’t be good. “They do say an apology is only worthy if it’s said on someone’s knees.”

You glare at him, your hands balling into furious fists by your side. “You gotta be kidding me…” you mutter and hiss through your teeth, “Ben, I’m not fucking blowing you in the supply closet of my school!”

Ben only shrugs carelessly. “Alright, guess I’ll have to ask Mrs. French Whore and see if she takes me up on my offer.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you grit.

“Oh, we both know I would, but I do prefer your beautiful and warm mouth, doll,” Ben smirks, letting each word roll off his tongue as his thumb pad reaches out and seductively traces your pink lips.

Instinctively, you suck his thumb into your mouth and massage it with your tongue, only widening his brash smile. As your eyes flicker down, you notice his rock-hard cock push through the fabric of the kimono and salute you. Your legs grow wobbly at the sight, your knees giving in with the urge to bend.

“Down,” he mouths, and you oblige without another protest, sinking to your knees in front of him.

You part your lips and stick your tongue out, ready to welcome his swollen tip. He fists his length and jerks his palm up and down a few times. He likes it to be as big as possible. He loves to see you struggle as you desperately try to fit all of him inside your tiny mouth.

His free hand lifts your chin, forces your eyes to find his as he guides his cock to your waiting mouth. He plops it on your tongue, heavy and thick, and lets it rest there for a second, gauging your reaction with a knowing smirk. You seal your lips around his weeping tip without question, your tongue swirling around it and dipping into the slit. You lick the salty precum with moans of pleasure, your hums sending vibrations up and down his length as your head begins to bob.

With each swallow you get closer to his pelvic bone, but Ben’s impatient and fists his hand into your hair. He roughly tugs and pulls you all the way down till your nose disappears in the little tuft of hair and tears stream down your cheeks as you cough for air.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl. Choke on my cock, you little slut,” he growls. His hips rock and find a rhythm as he thrusts inside you, hitting the back of your throat each time. “Fuck, that’ll teach you a lesson, won’t it? Who do you fucking belong to?”

He pulls you off his spit-drenched cock for the sole reason of replying. You look up at him as he expectantly meets your gaze with an arched eyebrow.

“You, daddy,” you reply on command.

He smirks in satisfaction and praises you, “There’s my good girl.” He tightens his grip on your hair and pushes back inside you. “Gonna send you back in with my cum all over you. Show those little pricks they can’t fucking touch what’s mine.”

As his hips gain speed, you hollow your cheeks and suck harder, feeling him swell on your tongue. Your jaw begins to ache, barely fitting his girth while his massive length drills relentlessly into your throat. Drool dribbles out from the sides of your mouth and mixes with your tears. Your mascara is nonexistent at this point and smeared all over your face.

And you know damn well, as soon as you walk back into class, everyone will know what you did.

“Such a good little whore for me,” Ben groans and pistons deeper once more, squeezing his eyes shut. You know it’s his telltale sign that he's close. “You’re such a fucking mess. Shit, gonna blow…”

He grunts as his hips stutter and his cock throbs in your mouth. He shoots hot ropes of cum down your throat, pulling out in the midst to paint your face with the rest. God knows he would never miss an opportunity to mark you. And when he’s done with his piece of sublime artwork, he smirks down at you, all self-satisfied and proud.

But then a bit of sweetness returns as he holds out his hands and helps you back on your feet. He gently tucks and brushes your hair back into place before snatching a roll of paper towels from the rack of art supplies behind you. He thoroughly cleans your face, removing any evidence of his deed, and kisses your hairline like you’re his most prized possession when he’s finished.

“There, all done, doll.” Ben’s smile makes you blush as he cups your cheeks. “No one will be the fucking wiser.”

As the two of you saunter back inside, no one seems to suspect anything. You get back to your original seat, while Ben invents some silly excuse to get out of his naked commitment.

But then Alexander tilts his head at you with a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, his finger pointing at his own cheek. “Y/N, uhm, I think you have something there. Oh, uhm, is that…”

He doesn’t finish as your eyes widen and your cheeks redden in embarrassment. Your shocked gaze darts to your boyfriend as he lingers by the door. With one last cunning smirk, he winks at you and heads out.

Yes, your boyfriend surely comes in many colors – and most of them are dark.

And yes, you bet your ass Ben was crushing hard on Mrs. Fournier 😂 Hope you enjoyed this!

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[sassenach77yle]

7x10 “Brotherly Love”

WHEN IAN FELT WELL enough, he came out walking with Jamie. Sometimes only as far as the yard or the barn, to lean on the fence and make remarks to Jenny’s sheep. Sometimes he felt well enough to walk miles, which amazed—and alarmed—Jamie. Still, he thought, it was good to walk side by side through the moors and the forest and down beside the loch, not talking much but side by side. It didn’t matter that they walked slowly; they always had, since Ian had come back from France with a wooden leg.“I’m lookin’ forward to having back my leg,” Ian had remarked casually once, when they sat in the shelter of the big rock where Fergus had lost his hand, looking out over the small burn that ran down at the foot of the hill, watching for the stray flash of a leaping trout.“Aye, that’ll be good,” Jamie had said, smiling a little—and a little wry about it, too, recalling when he’d waked after Culloden and thought his own leg missing. He’d been upset and tried to comfort himself with the thought that he’d get it back eventually, if he made it out of purgatory and into heaven. Of course, he’d thought he was dead, too, but that hadn’t seemed nearly as bad as the imagined loss of his leg.“I dinna suppose ye’ll have to wait,” he said idly, and Ian blinked at him.“Wait for what?”“Your leg.” He realized suddenly that Ian had no notion what he’d been thinking, and hastened to explain.“So I was only thinking, ye wouldna spend much time in purgatory—if at all—so ye’ll have it back soon.”Ian grinned at him. “What makes ye sae sure I willna spend a thousand years in purgatory? I might be a terrible sinner, aye?”“Well, aye, ye might be,” Jamie admitted. “Though if so, ye must think the devil of a lot of wicked thoughts, because if ye’d been doing anything, I’d know about it.”“Oh, ye think so?” Ian seemed to find this funny. “Ye havena seen me in years. I might ha’ been doing anything, and ye’d never ken a thing about it!”“Of course I would,” Jamie said logically. “Jenny would tell me. And ye dinna mean to suggest she wouldna ken if ye had a mistress and six bastard bairns, or ye’d taken to the highways and been robbing folk in a black silk mask?”“Well, possibly she would,” Ian admitted. “Though come on, man, there’s nothing ye could call a highway within a hundred miles. And I’d freeze to death long before I came across anyone worth robbin’ in one o’ the passes.” He paused, eyes narrowed against the wind, contemplating the criminal possibilities open to him.

“I could ha’ been stealing cattle,” he offered. “Though there’re sae few beasts these days, the whole parish would ken it at once should one go missing. And I doubt I could hide it amongst Jenny’s sheep wi’ any hope of its not bein’ noticed.”He thought further, chin in hand, then reluctantly shook his head.“The sad truth is, Jamie, no one’s had a thing worth stealin’ in the Highlands these twenty years past. Nay, theft’s right out, I’m afraid. So is fornication, because Jenny would ha’ killed me already. What does that leave? There’s no really anything to covet…. I suppose lying and murder is all that’s left, and while I’ve met the odd man I would ha’ liked to kill, I never did.” He shook his head regretfully, and Jamie laughed.“Oh, aye? Ye told me ye killed men in France.”“Well, aye, I did, but that was a matter of war—or business,” he added fairly. “I was bein’ paid to kill them; I didna do it out o’ spite.”“Well, then, I’m right,” Jamie pointed out. “Ye’ll sail straight through purgatory like a rising cloud, for I canna think of a single lie ye’ve ever told me.”Ian smiled with great affection.“Aye, well, I may ha’ told lies now and then, Jamie—but no, not to you.”He looked down at the worn wooden peg stretched before him and scratched at the knee on that side.“I wonder, will it feel different?”“How could it not?”“Well, the thing is,” Ian said, wiggling his sound foot to and fro, “I can still feel my missing foot. Always have been able to, ever since it went. Not all the time, mind,” he added, looking up. “But I do feel it. A verra strange thing. Do ye feel your finger?” he asked curiously, raising his chin at Jamie’s right hand.“Well… aye, I do. Not all the time, but now and then—and the nasty thing is that even though it’s gone, it still hurts like damnation, which doesna seem really fair.”He could have bitten his tongue at that, for here Ian was dying, and him complaining that the loss of his finger wasn’t fair. Ian wheezed with amusement, though, and leaned back, shaking his head.“If life was fair, then what?”They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the wind move through the pines on the hillside opposite. Then Jamie reached into his sporran and brought out the tiny white-wrapped package. It was a bit grubby from being in his sporran but had been tidily preserved and tightly wrapped.Ian eyed the little bundle in his palm.“What’s this?”My finger,” Jamie said. “I—well… I wondered whether ye’d maybe not mind to have it buried with ye.”Ian looked at him for a moment. Then his shoulders started to shake.“God, don’t laugh!” Jamie said, alarmed. “I didna mean to make ye laugh! Christ, Jenny will kill me if ye cough up a lung and die out here!”Ian was coughing, fits of it interspersed with long-drawn-out wheezes of laughter. Tears of mirth stood in his eyes, and he pressed both fists into his chest, struggling to breathe. At last, though, he left off and straightened slowly up, making a sound like a bellows. He sniffed deep and casually spat a glob of horrifying scarlet into the rocks.“I’d rather die out here laughin’ at you than in my bed wi’ six priests say-in’ prayers,” he said. “Doubt I’ll get the chance, though.” He put out a hand, palm up. “Aye, give it here.”Jamie laid the little white-wrapped cylinder in his hand, and Ian tucked the finger casually into his own sporran.“I’ll keep it safe ’til ye catch me up.”

81 PURGATORY II ~ An echo in the Bone

He had been holding Ian’s hand, clasping hard, trying to force some notion of well-being from his own calloused palm into Ian’s thin gray skin. His thumb slid upward now, pressing on the wrist where he had seen Claire grip, searching out the truth of a patient’s health.He felt the skin give, sliding across the bones of Ian’s wrist. He thought suddenly of the blood vow given at his marriage, the sting of the blade and Claire’s cold wrist pressed to his and the blood slick between them. Ian’s wrist was cold, too, but not from fear.He glanced at his own wrist, but there was no trace of a scar, either from vows or fetters; those wounds were fleeting, long-healed.

“D’ye remember when we gave each other blood for blood?”

Ian’s eyes were closed, but he smiled. Jamie’s hand tightened on the bony wrist, a little startled but not truly surprised that Ian had reached into his mind and caught the echo of his thoughts.

“Aye, of course.”

He couldn’t help a small smile of his own, a painful one.They’d been eight years old, the two of them. Jamie’s mother and her bairn had died the day before. The house had been full of mourners, his father dazed with shock. They had slipped out, he and Ian, scrambling up the hill behind the house, trying not to look at the fresh-dug grave by the broch. Into the wood, safe under the trees.Had slowed then, wandering, come to a stop at last at the top of the high hill, where some old stone building that they called the fort had fallen down long ago. They’d sat on the rubble, wrapped in their plaids against the wind, not talking much.“I thought I’d have a new brother,” he’d said suddenly. “But I don’t. It’s just Jenny and me, still.” In the years since, he’d succeeded in forgetting that small pain, the loss of his hoped-for brother, the boy who might have given him back a little of his love for his older brother, Willie, dead of the smallpox. He’d cherished that pain for a little, a flimsy shield against the enormity of knowing his mother gone forever.Ian had sat thinking for a bit, then reached into his sporran and got out the wee knife his father had given him on his last birthday.

“I’ll be your brother,” he’d said, matter-of-fact, and cut across his thumb, hissing a little through his teeth.He’d handed the knife to Jamie, who’d cut himself, surprised that it hurt so much, and then they’d pressed their thumbs together and sworn to be brothers always. And had been.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself against the nearness of death, the black finality.“Ian. Shall I…” Ian’s eyelids lifted, the soft brown of his gaze sharpening into clarity at what he heard in the thickness of Jamie’s voice. Jamie cleared his throat hard and looked away, then looked back, feeling obscurely that to look away was cowardly.“Will ye have me hasten ye?” he asked, very softly. Even as he spoke, the cold part of his mind sought the way. Not by the blade, no; it was quick and clean, a proper man’s departure, but it would cause his sister and the weans grief; neither he nor Ian had the right to leave a final memory stained with blood.Ian’s grip neither slackened nor clung, but of a sudden Jamie felt the pulse he had looked for in vain, a small, steady throb against his own palm.He hadn’t looked away, but his eyes blurred, and he bent his head to hide the tears.Claire… She would know how, but he couldn’t ask her to do it. Her own vow kept her from it.“No,” Ian said. “Not yet, anyway.” He’d smiled, eyes soft. “But I’m glad to ken ye’ll do it if I need ye to, mo brathair.”

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Rebound From A Breaking Point

For: @library-of-cronos

Even on the run he’s still got someone(s) to protect

Life on the streets was hard for anyone, most of all children though. However, on this street it was better to be a kid/teen. The kids all knew that, and so did the adults. Why? Because of the pale kid with fluffy black hair and eyes like blue ice, the kid would could be behind you at a moments notice without ever making a sound, the kid that would eye a gun like it was a pathetic toy, the kid who could walk into a room full of mobsters and be the only one left standing and looking like he’d merely gone for a light jog. To adults of the seedier sort his presence was an ominous warning that somehow someway they fucked up. While to the kids he was like some sort of guardian angel. If someone sold you bad drugs? You go to D. If someone was stalking you or threatening you or hurt you? You go to D. If some kid was missing? You go to D. If you needed food or water or medical help or shelter? You go to D. Whatever it was a kid might be having issues with, they could always go to D. Though trying to get the ‘how’ of how he helped, out of him was a pointless endeavour, since the answer was always either ‘I have my ways’ or ‘I’m just a good fighter’. Most of the adults thought he was a child mercenary or at least trained by one, because of how he could fight in so many styles and so skilled, because of how weapons and violence didn’t bother him even slightly, because of how he wouldn't react to getting injured even severely, because of a lot of things.

It was to the point where adults would go silent or nod respectfully if they saw him, and kids would run up to play or idly chat. It didn’t matter that he was cold as ice, it didn’t matter that his stare could make you feel like Death had come, it didn’t matter that many could swear he didn’t breath enough, it didn’t matter that he’d do things that seemed like they should be impossible. Adults respected or feared or hated him. Kids respected, looked up to, and loved him. Many of the kids could even say they were all great friends, even if D was closed off and secretive. No one knew his real name, no one knew where he’d come from, no one knew why he was here. There was, however, one big clue: the Rule. The Rule was simply that if men in white suits ever came, to stay away from them and that he- that D didn’t exist. That Rule only made more of them sure he was a child mercenary on the run from his former employers or a lab rat on the run from the government or the child of some big crime lord trying to establish himself without his family's connections. Honestly? If the boy wanted to outright take over the city’s seedy underground, he could with the snap of a finger; instead he just seemed to want to protect and nothing more… some called him Batman jokingly over that, the fact that he often hung out on rooftops and ‘patrolled’ in the dark of night, only encouraged everyone.

Even if an adult managed to sorta consider D a friend they had to watch it, if D perceived something they did/were doing as a threat to the kids, D would flip on them like a dime. But if an adult deemed friendly by D was in trouble, he’d help them. Rival gang looking to beat you into the ground and torture your girlfriend? D would hogtie them with their own belt and break all their toes with a witty quip. Honestly, his fatalistic and dark humour was both hilarious and very unnerving. It was also very good at pissing off people that didn’t know better, him insinuating that some abusive asshat fornicated with his own gun resulted in an entire building getting burned down and a few people thinking the ‘d’ meant demon over him walking through flames like it meant nothing.

All in all, he was good (and terrifying) to have around; at least… until men in white suits did actually show up. Pressed, clearly dry cleaned, white suits. Uniformed hair cuts. Dark sunglasses. Smelling of bleach and limes. Anyone with half a mind could tell they meant trouble. They asked around with pictures of D, anyone who even slightly seemed to know anything would disappear for a while. Whether that someone was a vendor, a shop owner, a street kid, a drug dealer, a random apartment tenant, a CEO’s assistant; it didn’t matter. All the shop owners and vendors in the seedier parts of town already knew better than to give these men anything, and the others soon learned better. Those that disappeared would come back with stories of torture, electrocution, water boarding, being beaten with guns, chained up and left to hang by their wrists, injected with drugs; anything and everything seemed to be alright and doable by these people. They were dangerous. Whether they were government, secret militia, a powerful crime ring. It was collectively decided that whatever D did to these people they were all better off not knowing, and that he would be gone if they ever found him.

Even the people who didn’t like D or were solidly terrified of him went about to let him be taken or assaulted by these psychotic whackos, especially when all the kid could be accused of was being too protective and secretive for his own good. Even after the men left, D was MIA for a month, wherever he found to hide it out was clearly a very good one. And when he came back he clearly expected to be treated different and was very interested in anything anyone had to say about the strange men. Everyone did learn a little more about whatever D had left behind though, a bombing was involved, experimentation on child corpses, somethings even hinted at a civil war or something similar. The only explanation he gave to anyone, which everyone who heard it assumed they only got out of him because they basically all protected him right back, was, “‘cause somethings are simply meant to be contained, and one of them is me”. Oddly that didn’t actually answer what kind of group was after him, it did make it clear that he was just as dangerous as he seemed if not more so.

In the end it just made D’s reputation even more intimidating. But everyone with sense, especially the kids, knew that it would be very bad if the men in white ever returned here.

End.

Prompt: Danny, on the run from the GIW and powerless, finds his second home with abandoned children living on the same streets he is. And superpowered or not, he's going to protect them.

[im-miss-sugar-pink]

Hello,

Hope I'm not bothering you!

Tbh the dude you are talking about doesn't sound good, even if he may be attractive. And fornication isn't worth it one way or another. It will just break your heart.

On a different note: I saw you are going through a hard time, I'm praying for you. Hope you have someone to reach out and confide in who can help irl like friends, or therapist or a priest (or all of them :D). Remember, that you are loved no matter what. <3

thank you

in my heart i know you're completely right and i should 100% listen to you

but my head wants to destroy my body, and the wants of my body want to destroy my spirit and so far recently my head and desires are winning

--

as a long, rambling response:

i know that this guy is not going to be good for me and i know the last guy i was in a situationship with was bad for me and i know i should just stop doing this to myself. and i constantly think of this book i had as a kid called "the princess and the kiss" where basically her "kiss" was a magic glowing light and she saved it and saved it until a poor farmer boy came and told her he had one too that he had saved for her and then thats who she chose over her fancy suitors and they exchanged kisses and got married. i think about that a lot. but im no princess and i gave away what i have years ago. what am i now lol (i started crying just now remembering how much i wanted to be like the princess in this old kids' book and failed)

i just got out of the mental hospital for the THIRD time. third time. in two and a half years. im so tired. it's so much easier to let myself suffer than to actually do anything about it. getting better is difficult and sometimes i dont know if i want to. like. i have to. i have to because if He didn't want me to get better then God would have let me die by now and He would not have put such good people in my life, good people who make sure i end up in the hospital rather than a casket. but it's so hard. it's overwhelmingly difficult to believe that all the positive things i reblog apply to me as well as to everyone else. like oh yeah. im not the exception to the idea that everyone deserves love and mercy and grace. but it's so difficult to actually believe that.

ive been to Mass twice in the past two or three months. only twice. that's probably part of why i feel like shit but i feel so terrible that i feel undeserving of even entering a church? it sucks. then im like. yah i should go to confession. ok good in theory. but ive got this thought stuck in my head like i Know im going to end up partaking in these shitty habitual sins again and again so like why should i say to God that im going to do my best to avoid these sins when i know i wont end up doing that no matter how much i mean it. also it's difficult to get to confession? like im usually busy during or forget about the scheduled times for them and then asking for a priest to hear my confession before Mass is always anxiety-inducing and difficult to do when you don't feel like you can even enter a church.

almost nothing im doing is good for me. and idk how much i care. jk i do care but i dont want to care. i was talking to someone about how i cry all the time because i have so many feelings and everything matters too much, and they were all like well i shut down all my feelings when it gets too hard. that must be nice at times. i feel everything so deeply and can't cut that part of me off and it's overwhelming.

please keep praying for me I don't know how much longer i can do this

[snapheart1536]

Bad Arguments

Elizabeth I

Girls Could Marry At Twelve

Freaks portray this wickedness as an oh-so noble concern for historical truth.

And YOU wouldn't object to Duh Twoof, would you now?

Oh! Ah! Well! It may seem like abuse to us But We Must Remember that Girls Could Marry At Twelve...

I love being implored to Remember the lies they've not told me yet.

Notice how it always begins with a feigned nod of empathy:

Hah! Yes! Of course. I hate it too. I really disapprove of This Sort Of Thing. Honest!

Before introducing the actual message:

But if you were A Reel Intelleckchul, like me, you would Understand that It Was Like That Then, and Perfectly Normal.

Besides the unsaid conclusion:

That means I'm right to blame Elizabeth.

The endless counter arguments to this have all been said before, and are near-enough a waste of words, for this isn't silly, muddle-headed ignorance but open malice, and agendas don't care about facts.

Because really, how would the customs governing matrimony apply to this situation?

Where does marriage figure in a middle-age man breaking into his stepdaughter's room to molest her?

Well here's the distraction technique:

Soon as we get to incestuous pædophilia, start wittering about wedlock and how it's ackshully alright to touch kids...in the time period, of course.

WHAT?!

If I believe Tudor society took a lax view of preying upon children, then by this very argument, that attitude could ONLY ever exist with regards to marriage.

They want me to accept Seymour Did Nothing Wrong, because his era allowed him to marry a girl of twelve.

This implies consummation followed immediately, although they never say as much, precisely as it is too big of a lie, hinting at it instead to let your subconscious join the dots.

BUT, if his entire defence is nothing better than blabbering about how he can sleep with a twelve‐year-old bride if he wants to, then he needed to marry Elizabeth beforehand for this to be alright.

But not only had Seymour not married her, he already had a wife, so his behaviour alone is a simply lovely mix of fornication, adultery AND incest.

And last time I looked, the Tudors came down hard on all three.

Oh yeah. They killed Anne and George for less. But ten years later? Totally normal!

I hate this Bad Argument with such deep, boiling fury I'm about to rip it apart, so no one ever can ever sew its tattered chunks together again.

It is absurd to the point of evil, as just think about what they are saying.

Seymour forces his way into Elizabeth's room to grope and spank her.

Me: That's abuse, that!

Them: Oh you thick, detestable pleb. Girls Could Marry At Twelve, doncha know.

As when Seymour molested Elizabeth, he wasn't really molesting her, because she was old enough to marry him.

And you can't sexually assault adults.

...

Once a gal can get married, it's every fella's sworn duty to come at her, for she wants 'em.

She wants 'em all.

She does, man! She's just being difficult!

You know how it goes:

6th September 1545: Little girl.

7th September 1545: WAHMAN!!!

Soon at that clock struck midnight, a switch flicked in Elizabeth's brain, and ever after she had a hunger...for MAN.

And Seymour just couldn't bear to see her hankering and not go providing like a true hero.

It would've been cruel NOT to do it.

Of age? Well say no more.

Come one, come all. Open for business.

And if she complains, well that's just playing hard to get, innit?

No escape now, love.

Legally capable of marriage? Well you want it whatever you say.

Stop struggling.

Same with Elizabeth. I mean, come on, Girls Could Marry At Twelve.

So obviously, if she hadn't really wanted it, she would've stayed eleven forever.

Is that so much to ask?

But oh no, she just so happened to have thirteen birthdays beforehand like a slut.

Ah-hah! Gotcha now! That little innocent routine don't fool me!

Then she has the nerve to play the victim as if it isn't all her fault for growing.

And then idiots blame Seymour for taking his rights when she made herself fully available by not dying in childhood, the selfish bitch.

Look at her, not being dead! Tempting him!

This Bad Argument is ONLY ever used by women to defend men attacking other women and girls, so please remember it's composed of three lies:

1. Seymour Did Nothing Wrong, because she was over twelve.

2. Elizabeth clearly loved every minute, because she was over twelve.

3. Sleeping with children was Perfectly Fine for most of human history and it's our prissy, overreacting modern hysteria about it that's the The Real Problem.

Why? Because if they can push you to accept it was normal then, it's the first step towards pushing you to accept it's normal now.

[cannoli-reader]

Re-read my ass. This is clearly written with Elyas' advice in a future book in mind. Did she read tPoD where we get the actual fucking answer?

"By some miracle, her husband, her beloved wolf, had begun behaving as he should. Instead of shouting at Berelain or running from her, Perrin now tolerated the jade's blandishments, plainly tolerated them the way he would a child playing around his knees. And best of all, there was no longer any need to tamp down her anger when she wanted to let it loose. When she shouted, he shouted back. She knew he was not Saldaean, but it had been so hard, thinking in her heart of hears that he believed her too weak to stand up to him."

Leigh Butler is one of those rabid fanatics who refuses to consider any other perspective, and insists on dragging everything through the lens of her particular belief system and measuring everything according to its values, while dragging characters for much lesser violations of that mindset. She cannot even step outside of her dogma to consider characters' perspectives in their natural worldview. And the "questions" posed above are a shining example of a bad faith examination of a character aspect she has made up her mind to dislike.

The comments sections of her read-through blogs were full of readers who wanted to like her blogs, wanted to engage with her, and trying in the most respectful way to point out the flaws in this mentality, and that it was not remotely a blog for fans of WoT, so much as for her co-religionists, that their doctrines were being treated by Butler and her sycophants as if they were objective rules or natural principles. And whenever the fan reaction reached a critical mass, some editor or boss from Tor.com would step in and claim that the whole project was "an experiment." If that's true, I have never in my life encountered an experiment more resistant to data or examination of the results. It's like reading some fundamentalist Christian ranting about the witchcraft in Harry Potter, or going on a rant about fornication every time Rand gets together with one of his girlfriends or the triple relationship is even mentioned in the books.

Butler has decided that the superficial similarities to sexist IRL attitudes toward relationships mean that Saldaeans', in general, Faile's particular, approach to relationships makes them Bad, and she will not hear anything that contradicts what her Lady and Savior has revealed to her. That's why she's "stumped." Not because Faile is doing something wrong, or has unreasonable expectations, not because the Saldaeans have a regressive or patriarchal society.

Perrin's behavior toward Berelain is over the top, because he is treating her as the one with all the power. He is acting as if Berelain's actions can hurt his marriage, as if Berelain can make him betray his wife. He is acting like a child, too weak to resist her "blandishments" and by implication, telling the world that she is a lot more attractive, sexy and appealing than his wife. "Berelain, leave me alone, I am married to a big-nosed girl-child with weird eyes, please stop luring me with your pinnacle of feminine beauty that I can't resist, because there is nothing remotely in your league waiting for me at home."

Or, worse yet, and probably more accurate, he is demonstrating a gross lack of faith and trust in his own wife. His reaction to Berelain is driven by the fear that Faile will blame him and leave him over another person's actions. This is exactly what is going on when he sends Berelain to talk to Alliandre. He notes that Faile does not get mad at him until he apologizes to her for sending Berelain. Because she is an adult. She wanted to go herself, she had a plan to carry out, Perrin told her no, so of course she is going to be disappointed, but she is not throwing a tantrum, she is not acting out, she is not even protesting or arguing. But Perrin turns around and apologizes to her, even though he did nothing wrong, even though he is the one in command, and that decisions like this are his responsibility to make. Faile is being professional, and Perrin is treating her as if she were not, but a spoiled child who wants everything her own way and will make his life miserable because he made an objectively correct command decision, in line with Rand's purpose in sending him and Berelain.

And it's the same with Berelain's flirting in LoC. Perrin is acting like his wife is a nerd who thinks a good grade in a gender studies class makes her a feminist critic shrill, unreasonable termagant who will blame and punish him for someone else's actions. Leigh, you really want to know what Perrin is supposed to do instead of anger or avoidance? Read the damn books! He is supposed to tolerate her, like the foolish outsider she is supposed to be in the Bashere-Aybarra marriage! Someone who can show off the goods like she can't wait for Only Fans to be invented and get no more of a rise from Perrin than "Whatever, we have a political mission to take care of, are you coming with, sweetie, or do you want a job at Duranda Tharne's inn?" She wants Perrin to not care about other women, instead of treating them like threats to their marriage (Butler and her ilk are very down on men trying to talk about women, or people certain skin colors or nationalities talking about those with different characteristics, as if they can possibly know what these other people's experiences are like, but they never seem to take that principle into account when they themselves are talking about male experiences, or even more alien to them - a woman married to a man she loves). Faile wants Perrin to take her more seriously, and treat her as more important, than Berelain, and she wants him to act as if he believes in her good qualities and trusts her love for him, instead of always expecting the worst from her.

I know this, because that's what the book says

WOT REREAD № 18

LEIGH BUTLER

LORD OF CHAOS

“Faile: So, what is the correct response Perrin should have done here? Because I’m stumped, personally. Anger = bad, avoidance = bad, so… what should it have been? I’m not being sarcastic here, I’m honestly trying to figure it out. Lofty disdain, perhaps? Indifference? Weeping self-flagellation? Brazen flirting back? Or was it that he didn’t take the anger far enough, and was supposed to, I dunno, beat the crap out of Berelain or something? Or even kill her? I don’t know! The world may never know, because Faile won’t freaking tell us. Oh, and also, GAH. “

[skylerscull1]

Gotham - Jerome Valeska Character Analysis / Ramble

Jerome was told that his legacy was death and madness, he was told that "You will be a curse upon Gotham. Children will wake from sleeps screaming at the thought of you. Your legacy will be death and madness." Paul Cicero, his father, had watched Jerome being treated harshly time and time again throughout Jerome's childhood, and had never lifted a hand to help him. Jerome, even before his brother Jeremiah left him, had been dealt the wrong hand in life, one bad day after another until one day he couldn't take it anymore.

In season 3, episode 3 of Gotham, Jerome confronts his father about the wrong-doings that were done to him during childhood. Jerome says to him, "You remember Kansas City, Dad? The circus went through town every spring right around my birthday? There was this guy. Him and my mom used to drink and fornicate and beat the crap out of me. They'd make a whole night out of it. And I remember one time... it was my ninth birthday... him and my mom had just finished round one of boozing, boning, beating up Jerome, and were deciding to take a little break. I was outside the trailer, and you were there. And you said: "Why are you crying, Jerome?" "It's my birthday. And my mom and the snake guy are beating me." And then you said: "This world doesn't care about you or anyone else, Jerome. Better to realize that now." And that was it." 

A nine year old child was told that no one cared about him, he cried out for help, and no one - not even his own father, who he didn't know was his father at the time - bothered to listen to his cries for help. This was a child who was disillusioned about the world at a young age, forced to grow up early. The one kindness his mother ever gave him was lying to him about who his father was, deciding to let him believe that his father was a great sailor when in fact his father was just another one of his abusers. 

At nine years old, Jerome was beaten down by his own mother and when he told Mr. Cicero, he was shut down. Nothing was done to help him, no one had come to his rescue. No one bothered to help. Being told that no one cares about you at such a young age can be damaging to a person.

Now imagine that the one person meant to be closest to you, the only person you have left, leaves too.

At ten years old, Jeremiah was the only thing Jerome had left, and he had left Jerome just like that. In the show, when we first see Jeremiah, he explains to Jim and Harvey why he left, "They hid me away to protect me from him. See, we were always different, Jerome and I. From our early age, I showed a proficiency for maths and design and Jerome mainly the mutilation of allycats. On my tenth birthday he held a cake knife to my throat. A few weeks later he lit my bed on fire. It was like living in a nightmare. My mother knew eventually one day he would succeed. So one day my uncle came to my room while Jerome slept and told me that he was taking me away, I had no idea where. But I kissed my mother goodbye, told her I loved her, and I never saw her again." Only none of that was true. We know that because not long after that revelation, Jeremiah and Jerome have an argument about it, and Jeremiah admits it was a lie.

"You're insane.” Jeremiah says, “And I tried telling mom but she didn't want to listen to me. You blame me for everything that's gone wrong in your life, but the truth is... Jerome, you were born bad." Jerome responds with, "Born bad huh? So that's why you made her think I tried to kill ya, right? What was it again? What was it?! I put a blade to your throat? No, no, no, no - I tried to light you on fire?!"  "We both know you wanted to!" says Jeremiah "Yeah, that was a... funny story. Wasn't it?" "Okay... maybe it didn't happen exactly like that. But I didn't have a choice, and I was right. You killed our mother." Jeremiah justify’s his actions to his brother and Jerome ends the conversation with the following rebuttal: "She did deserve it though. After that whore hid you away, she gave up on me. Poisoned by your stories. You turned everyone I ever loved against me! MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! Hah, I guess it's just like they say... we can all go insane with just one. bad. day." -Jerome

Already we know that Jerome was accused of something he never did. Jeremiah had turned everyone against him, everyone he ever loved or cared about. Lila, their mother, didn’t want to believe Jeremiah at first, at one point she still loved and had hope for Jerome. It was Jeremiah that made her give up on him. Clearly, it’s obvious that before Miah left, Lila was still harsh with Jerome. Jeremiah admits that he tried telling mom that Jerome was insane before and she never lived, Jeremiah had been telling stories and poisoning everyone against Jerome for a long time, it wasn’t just those three lies, this was a childhood of blame being put against a boy who was proven time and time again that no one cared about him.  

When Jerome was little, his uncle, Zachary Trumble, put his hand into a pot of boiling chicken stock because he tried to steal a snickerdoodle. “You remember that time you caught me trying to snag a snickerdoodle? Oh, that soup you made that day. Mmm, mamma mia! What was the special ingredient again? Ah, right. It was my hand. The one you dipped in a boiling pot of chicken stock! That smell, it was mouthwatering!" Jerome and Jeremiah’s relationship hadn’t always been negative, they used to dare each other to sneak into the chuck wagon to steal one of Zachary’s cookies. At one point, the two twins did get along, and according to Jeremiah, “It’s always the ones you’re closest to that you have to keep an eye on.” He knows that personally, because he and Jerome used to be close. 

No one had ever helped Jerome, he admits so himself when he talks with his uncle in Season 4 Episode 16, "It's been great catching up, Uncle Zach. You really brought back the utter helplessness of childhood." "Uh, you know, with Uncle Zach, the beatings just never stopped. They went on and on. And nobody ever helped me. Ever." Jerome spent his whole childhood feeling helpless, beating after beating with no one there to help him.

Abuse can leave a life-long effect on a person. Even in adult-hood, Jerome is bitter about what he went through during childhood, he’s stuck in the past. He spent 15 years waiting to find his brother, 15 years obsessing over a grudge, left wondering what he must’ve done wrong to deserve what he went through. 

There’s many environmental explanations for behavior. Why do people do the things they do? How do our minds work? How does our childhood affect us? Those are questions that psychologists and other behavioral scientists ask everyday. Some people argue that the influence of nurture is stronger than nature. Common influences on a persons behavior includes parenting style. Depending on the parenting style used, it can affect children and their development in different ways and it can have a significant impact on how a child's personality and behaviors develop.

        - The Authoritarian Parenting Style is frigid, filled with rules, and demands obedience. The children have very little, if any, say in what takes place. This form of parenting can lead a child to be moody and lack self-esteem.          - Authoritative parenting style has rule setting that is flexible, it encourages children to make decisions and learn from them, children raised in this type of environment tend to be self-reliant, friendly, and self-confident.         - Permissive parenting style allows children to do as they wish with few rules set to follow but it might result in a child who has trouble making decisions or being held accountable for their actions. 

From what information we were given, it’s highly likely that Lila’s parenting style would’ve been Authoritarian. Many children who lack self-esteem overcompensate in adulthood - which may lead to narcissism like behaviors or symptoms. According to mayoclinic.org, some causes for narcissism are related to the way the child was raised. Parent-child relationships with either too much adoration or too much criticism that don't match the child's actual experiences and achievements can lead to narcissism. Jeremiah was favored over Jerome, he was a child-genus who was spirited away to a boarding school and graduated early with achievements over his belt. Jerome talks about his brother in Season 4, Episode 18, about how: "No parent will admit it but everyone's got their favorites. Right brother? The one who cleans their room, does their homework, doesn't try to kill everybody. Lil mister perfect over here, he was that guy. He got adopted by rich folks. Went to the top schools, the top college. Meanwhile, I got dragged through the circus by my depressed alcoholic mother. Forced to clean up elephant dung everyday."

Jerome went through cruel and unusual punishments. Jeremiah meanwhile was the favorite, the “perfect” one, the one who got everything handed to him on a silver platter. Jerome confirms that even before his brother left, Jerome was being abused. Some causes of sibling estrangement and sibling abuse are actually due to issues in a parents parenting style, whether that be not displaying ANY discipline or being outright abusive towards their children - or even just displaying favoritism. Parents who abuse their children set a negative example, if the parents repeatedly scapegoat one child and blame them for everything that goes wrong, eventually the other child will also learn that they can conveniently avoid responsibilities when things go wrong.  There's three types of sibling dynamics that are toxic and can lead to “going down the wrong path” so-to-speak. The one I’d like to look at here though is “The Golden Child and the Black Sheep”.

Jerome is the family scapegoat, he blames his brother for everything that has gone wrong in life yes, but he also constantly faced abuse by members of his family, brought down by the ones he was closest to and forced to face expectations that he was told he’d never meet - expectations he would never be able to meet. He was the scapegoat that Jeremiah used to get out of the circus, the scapegoat his mother used to vent her anger out on, the scapegoat his uncle Zach used to satisfy his cruelty. The adults around them taught Jerome that he needed to be stronger in order to survive in a world where it was kill or be killed, a world where the strong stood at the top and the vulnerable suffered for it - they taught Jeremiah that the abuse they put onto Jerome was acceptable. Jerome never had a chance from the very beginning. Because lets face it, his brother was the “perfect” one, the one he’d never be able to reach. Nothing he ever did was enough. He had lived a life of pain and suffering, one bad day after another.

Parents who are quick to anger, who act unreasonably and lash out regularly, teach their children that these are acceptable behaviors. Jerome was punished for reasons not even he likely understood, and watched as violence against him were practically encouraged. The weak were brought down by the strong, the vulnerable were beaten without consequence. He was taught again and again that being vulnerable did nothing but bring him pain. Jeremiah was the golden child, and Jerome suffered for it. As a kid, facing a reality like that can break you beyond repair. 

Jerome was taught this: 

- The world doesn’t care about him or anyone else.

- No one will help or save him.

- He’s on his own.

- Being vulnerable gets you hurt.

It’s not entirely Jeremiah’s fault what happened to Jerome, he too was a victim of their circumstances. They were both raised in a horrible abusive environment, they were both kids who wanted out and weren’t properly taught the difference between right or wrong. Neither of them had properly learned responsibility. Children lie, children get scared, and they do things that they can’t take back. They make mistakes, because they’re children who don’t know any better, children who don’t quite understand consequences or real-world cause and effect. When people are desperate or afraid, sometimes they’ll do anything to get an out. Children can also be cruel. Children learn from their environment, from the people who raised them, so it’s no wonder that Jeremiah did what he did, it’s not surprising for me to know that Jeremiah had lied about Jerome. By the time Jeremiah would’ve realized his mistake it would’ve been too late to take it back, sometimes it’s easier to keep a lie going even when you know it’s wrong then to admit that you lied in the first place. A lot of the time, people will stick to their lies for years after originally telling it because they’re in too deep to go back out, it’s difficult to admit that you lied about something, especially something that can cause such turmoil in a family. It’s difficult to turn back. And sometimes the guilt of a lie can stick with a person for the entirety of their lives. 

To a child, being told that they’re on their own, that no one cares, being forced to face the reality that no one will help him, that can lead a person to snap later in life. As we grow older, that kind of stress can lead to depression, it can lead to us lashing out. It can lead a person to snap, just like how Jerome killed his mother. Too much pressure weighed down on him for so many years, and he snapped just like that. Jerome was a product of a lifetime of abuse, and instead of drowning under the pressure, he came out stronger for it, twisted and warped as a person, but he didn’t give up at life like most people might. Even in a world where life has no meaning to him, where he felt helpless, where he had no reason to keep going - he managed to hang on to life. Jerome refused to give up, he got back up again and again. He lived, even in the midst of madness, even when he knew no one would be coming to save him, he kept going, he got right back up whenever he was knocked down, no matter how many times they tried to break him, he got back up.

Even when dead, Jerome kept a smile on his face. He climbed his way to the top, he lived on even when he saw no value in his own life (he held a gun to his head with no fear, he let himself fall from a ledge with a smile and a laugh) but he did see value in the legacy he’d leave behind. Because Jerome isn’t the victim anymore, finally he made himself matter, he freed himself from what made him so miserable his entire life. And that freedom, the knowledge that his mother could never hurt him again, the thought of making something of himself, proving everyone wrong who ever made him feel helpless and useless, making the world care about him one way or another.... that freedom, free from the shackles of sanity that only ever brought him suffering, that freedom brought him happiness. For the first time in his life, he was the one on top, HE was the strong one. People loved him, people listened to him, all eyes were on him. Jerome would be remembered. It’s no wonder that he turned out the way he did, and he wasn’t half-wrong with his speech about sanity being a prison of the mind, about madness leading to freedom. Because he’s talking about his own experiences. 

Snapping and going insane set him free, he stood up and refused to be beaten back down, he embraced the very thing people accused him of being all along: “Crazy”. He owned the word, and proved everyone right while also proving them wrong. What’s more mad than that?

Just like how the song “I Go Loony” from Batman; The Killing Joker says: "When the world is full of care And every headline screams despair When all is r---, starvation, war and life is vile  Then there's a certain thing I do Which I shall pass along to you That's always guaranteed to make me smile Yes! I go looney - Mister, life is swell in a padded cell It'll chase those blues away"

Madness saved him, cruelty made him.

“All it takes is one bad day to drive the sanest man to lunacy.” It’s more like a symphony of bad days, but he wasn’t wrong. Jeremiah was his bad day.   

[spicysoftsweet]

the devil is a fornicator, incubus!sukuna x reader

summary: sukuna, a well-known incubus is quite fond of you.

warnings: home invasion, noncon, double penetration, size kink ig, degradation, monster form! sukuna

a/n: there is no plot here just porn lmao. enjoy.

It’s the dead of night and the incubus has returned, you realize once you’ve awoken in a shock of blinding pain, only to gaze directly into the demon’s endless eyes hovering over you, illuminated dimly by the pale moonlight that streams through your thin curtains.

He grins, revealing rows of gleaming sharp teeth.

“Did you miss me?”

His voice is a snarl that drips heavily in sarcasm, seemingly echoing in the silence of the room.

Tonight, much like every other night, you’re not sure how you ended up caged in two sets of arms stronger than wrought iron, your mind steeped in a deep, impenetrable fog and your body languid and stretched to the limit as you’re all but impaled over a monstrously sized pair of cocks. But it’s a matter of course - the demon Sukuna has picked you and continues to choose you again and again.

There’s more than one reason he’s called the King of Curses.

Aside from the fact that he has claimed you only because you are eternally damned, expletives fall out of his mouth as naturally as rain drops from the sky; harsh, caustic is the feel of his rough hands on your skin, if you can really call them something as human as hands.

“You’re pathetic, really, sniveling all because of a little pain?”

Even though his voice is light and jeering, you’re not meant to answer and you don’t dare to. All you can do is whimper, and your soft, miserable sobs delight him.

“You should be thankful I’ve become somewhat partial to a weak, worthless little thing like you.”

The palm that presses down on your neck, making it hard for you to draw air into your lungs, is so heavy - heavier than the weight of his body that carelessly crushes your fragile one.

Even if he is holding most of his weight, you are still so tiny, so small in comparison to his huge figure. He’s massive, truly, but you’re not exactly sure how large he is...  he visits you under the cover of dark, and you swear the size of his shadow varies each time. 

But the configuration of his form is always the same, and he makes good use of his supernatural anatomy - a hand presses on your neck, another grasps relentlessly at your hair and tugs mercilessly, and two more are placed oppressively on your hips, gripping tightly enough to leave blotchy discoloration on your skin. A tongue that protrudes from somewhere within the dense muscles of his abdomen laps furiously at your bare skin, now covered in a thin layer of sweat from the heat he generates. The rough, wet strokes only worsen your sensitivity but you barely shudder because he holds you so still that you have no agency to move.

But where could you go?

You want to explode.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? Being splayed out like this?” His head lowers so that he can whisper directly into your ear, as he continues to pet your scalp. His fingers curl around your neck, and you gasp involuntarily; you can practically feel the way his lips curl into a smile, his cheek is so close to yours.

Of course it hurts. It hurts so bad, it hurts so good, your heart hurts, your pussy aches.

“I’m too big, aren’t I? You can’t take me in that tight little cunt of yours, can you?” 

It’s true - you shouldn’t be able to take him. In fact, you’re amazed that he manages to fit despite everything, however painfully so, and if your head were a bit clearer, you’d wonder if it’s a bit of magic that keeps you from splitting in half so that he can have his fun night after night. It does help that you’re dripping wet, seeping around him enough that you can feel the unmistakable moist sensation between your legs that is your arousal, more slippery than perspiration.

“What would you do if I got bigger inside you? Will I tear you apart, little one?”

Please have mercy.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks and your body is quivering, and if it weren’t for the fact that he has you pinned down, unable to move an inch, your whole body would be convulsing. You are too full, too tender, too stimulated and he’s barely even moving yet, aside from the occasional tortuous twitch of one of the penises inside you. It’s torture, the way your body clenches desperately around him, pleading for some friction. The rise and fall of your chest as you pant in a strained, almost wheezing cacophony - you don’t dare whine, you’ll take whatever he offers you - seems to delight him, and his hand releases around your neck. He thumbs instead at your quivering lower lip, his own lips pressing onto your neck.

It’s almost a mockery of tenderness, the pecks he gives the curve of your jaw as he jams two fingers now down your throat making you gag. 

He loves to hear you choke, and he sinks his hands into the futon so that he can grasp handfuls of your ass and lift up.

Once he adjusts himself so that he is kneeling onto the bed and your hips are hoisted off the ground, he pushes deeper inside you and you cry out around his fingers in your mouth.

But once he starts moving, you are too stimulated to cry. 

Sukuna fucks you loudly, lewdly, animalistic groans and foul language filling the air as he thrusts in and out of you like you’re nothing but a mere cocksleeve, ignoring whatever screams and moans come out of your mouth. You move so quickly, slammed almost perpendicularly against his pelvis, hard, that your thoughts go from fogged up to scrambled until you’re dizzy and wordless, sniveling, forgetting how to form the words to beg him to stop.

Do you want him to stop? Being fucked dumb maybe the only good part of this curse after all. 

He plays with your pert nipples as he slams you down onto his cocks; he shifts you upright briefly, sitting with his legs crossed to minimize his own effort as he pistons you up and down forcefully onto his lap.

Too many eyes focus in on the grotesque, fucked-out expression you make, your tongue lolling out helplessly and your breasts bouncing recklessly as he moves you.

“You almost look half-decent like this...” he teases, a pleased smirk gracing his hideous smirk. Again, he has to steady you, bringing your arms behind you and holding you taut so that you don’t collapse onto him,  you are nothing but a brainless toy, after all. By this point of the night, he can’t expect you to keep your posture. He’s not that cruel.

“You’re no different than a little lamb. Innocent, cute, powerless. I could swallow you whole.”

You let out a drawn out moan from an orgasm that springs forth from so deep inside you that it reverberates throughout your whole body and he laughs. In fact, he cackles wildly as you jerk violently forward, your shoulders almost risking dislocation as you move due to the fact that your wrists are still firmly in his grasp. 

“Aren’t you going to beg me to stop? Or are you just going to keep cumming like the dirty little cursed slut you are?”

You know he won’t stop. Not for hours. Not until he eventually releases hot, sticky, endless ropes of cum inside you until you pass out, until the next morning where you wake up in a cold sweat after repetitive nightmares of giving birth to hellspawn.

His two upper hands cup your face that is exhausted, weary, miserable, and dazed from fucking that will go on endlessly and for as long as he feels like it. Sucking away all your vital energy. Ruining your soul. Wrecking your body. 

His fingers caress your skin, even if he’s still pounding relentlessly into you and you’re only a few more strokes away from another gut-wrenching climax.

Sukuna kisses you passionately and you don’t think, because if there is anything you know for a fact, it’s that the devil is a liar and tonight’s lie is that you’re anything more than a hapless human he likes to fuck.

[wiedzmacienia]

katarzyna allows a sigh to escape her, mind in thought before she speaks in answer to his partial statement about brewster. "i do not doubt caleb's trustworthiness." and the witch realizes the truth of her words as she states them. she did not know caleb well for the majority of her time since joining forces with the continental army had been taken up by meetings with her own forces, or washington, and a surprising amount of time around benjamin and auggie, a turn of events she could not have seen coming had she pondered it weeks ago. oh, she knew she would need to spend time with tallmadge, of this washington had informed her of his expectations of the work they could do together, yet how such had played out had shaken any preconceptions she held within her. it had made her think about things she never considered before either. in any case, she didn't know caleb well but benjamin did. and that, she found, she held in higher regard than she'd give most people's opinion that she hadn't known for a considerable amount of time.

"you trust him and i trust you. that is enough, but.. we don't have the time to involve him." she knows he follows the same mind track as her when he trails off, but she voices it anyway. perhaps she wants him to know she's willing to trust his friend too or to further show him she does trust him. trust him more than she could understand a reason for because it went against so many of her base instincts and she knew it did his own too. and yet here they were.

"i promise you, i will not tell anyone what happens tonight and i'll ward the tent. we won't be bothered or heard." there is no anger at the notion of keeping magic a secret in such an instance. she knew he was still coming to terms with the duality of magic. that it could be good or bad depending on the intent and type. but he had accepted her, trusted her, and he was willing to take part in it to find his brother. that was enough for her. and frankly, no one needed to know how far she seemed willing to push herself to conduct the tasks she would that night. she didn't even understand her level of conviction toward such.

why did she care so much about preventing him from going on a dangerous mission?

why was she so determined to help him find his brother even if she knew what effects could befall her for such things upon this night?

the easy answer was she didn't want auggie to lose his father and that logically them working together in general would only aid the cause but there was more to it than that. but what that was she didn't know and that unsettled her. her own lack of understanding in her own emotions and decisions did. it did not halt her convictions forward however.

upon his gaze meeting hers and his words washing over her the witch's features redden slightly and eyes widen. oh. it made sense that such was what he would have heard of rituals and she could not deny that there were some rituals in existence where certain activities played a part but they were not in the ways he believed or for the purposes of anything they sought to do this night. well, perhaps the blood was to a point. "blood will play a factor. of this i can't deny. not much, as i said, a few drops. but-- i assure you if i was intending to participate in fornication with you it wouldn't be part of--" a pause as she seems to realize her words, half-tempted to let go of his arm and yet she can't seem to move. "--or anyone--" she adds quickly. that was not better. a breath is released as she looks down a moment, then back up at him, refusing to allow herself to appear flustered. "such a thing is not needed for something like this." good god.

"there will be a certain intimacy of a different kind you will have to accept to do this. it is why i said we must trust each other because it is not something i agree to lightly or i imagine you would either." in some ways it was perhaps more intense because of the connection it formed in the moment. it required a vulnerability to expose oneself in such a way. "you'll need to let me into your mind so i can see him, so i can experience your memories as you did, feel what you did. but the door opened.. it goes both ways. we will be able to sense each other, our emotions, feel each other's essence during that connection. it can be intense." it also required focus otherwise one could get lost in trails of emotions and thoughts and sparks of memories. the unfiltered mind in many ways, was like dreams, fluid. they'd need to be able to focus on their goal. on his brother.

"i understand. it won't take me long to gather what i need and to speak with kenna." she states, greenish-blue hues washing over his tent in thought before moving back to meet his gaze. "we need more space. move some things around. we need to sit on the ground and i need enough space to make a circle. touching the earth gives us a stronger connection to it and helps us forge the path to what we seek." she pauses, squeezing his arm lightly. "i will say.. uh-- it wouldn't be a bad thing to be... comfortable when we do the ritual." she wasn't telling him to disrobe by any means but if he'd be more comfortable without his full uniform than.. well, that was up to him. "we both need to be able to relax our minds and bodies or it'll make it harder to form the mind-link. that said, i-- should go.. so i can return before it gets too late."

Benjamin's brow furrowed. "But Caleb can be trusted," he reassured. "He's part of our whole operation. It would only be a matter of..." Trailing off, he rolled his lips inward at Katarzyna's explanation, understanding the time sensitivity of this process. He wanted and needed to find his brother. Even if Caleb could assist, there was no guarantee the whaler could do anything about this, but Katarzyna? She could.

The idea of magic was still frightening and unfathomable to him, but if God did not wish for him to find Samuel, why was this witch placed unto his very path? Surely, it wasn't a temptation? A test?

Exhaling through his nose, Benjamin anxiously rolled the heel of his palm over his chest, his teeth gritting as he kept his eyes focused on the ground. "I do...I do trust you," he finally allowed. It startled him to realize this was the truth. "Whatever it is, I'll do it, just...ensure nobody else knows."

It wouldn't be difficult to ready the package. He'd already been under the impression he had to depart immediately, so the items were pre-prepared. Lifting his head, Benjamin watched her with mounting dread. "What will I have to do for this ritual? Stories I've heard -- blasphemous ones, naturally -- have all ranged anywhere from blood-letting to fornication." Cheeks growing warm, he promised, "My love for Samuel exceeds my reservations, but...I would at the very least like to prepare myself."

Katarzyna expressed her concerns over Augustus, and Benjamin was quick to nod in agreement. "Yes," he agreed, "that should work -- I don't want him present for this. Although I share everything with that boy, I just...I think this one thing should be something I bear alone."

In truth, Samuel was a wound he'd borne far too long, and Benjamin was afraid of just how he might react, were the outcome to prove unfavorable.

Please, God -- please let my brother be alive.

[mvalentine]

so im just sitting in jfk thinking thoughts and ignoring cam and catching up on our trr2 replay and my mind is wandering to the land of wasted potential… like an Olivia spin off backstory whatever because the TENSION in bk2 where she’s like ‘Hes marrying her and in love with you etc etc’ and she runs off hurts my heart 💔 if we got to choose how the story played out in a true choose ur own adventure doo you think liam/adam x Olivia could be a thing? Do you think they ever were???

And in that camping scene pls give me ur hc on Audrey x Drake bc my girl Anya still hasn’t kissed the bloke by then and is she horny on main 🥲😅

LMAOO as you should good to know you have your priorities in check <333 but nah fr dom i hope you’re feeling alot better now!!

also omg YES both me & audrey in the camp of feel bad for her because you can tell that liam is the only person she’s ever loved & omg she’s loved him for AGES crown or no crown it’s always been liam for her. & im actually in the camp of people who believe that yeah, olivia x the prince could be a real thing!! i really like their fire & ice dynamic, & i would totally live for an au where olivia moves on post engagement fail but was liam’s biggest support system post his heartbreak but then liam starts seeing her in a different light & starts get jealous and shit & then is like wait why am i jealous oh no….. oh wait…… it can’t be…… i want HER to be pined after i want the one who’s pined their whole life to be the one who’s pined for (a la loml pen <333) but yk at the end of the day im maddie & olivia ride or die. but tell me your thoughts!!!! i need to know 💗💗💗

also AHHHHH the camping scene another one of my fav scenes honestly the writers were truly feeding us drake romancers in book2 <333 but also BESTIE anya has more self restraint than me or audrey because goddamn. no but like the way he takes it so seriously & is giving out orders is so adorable to her like is this man fr. and that scene where she goes in the tent she’s kinda like wtf am i doing the prince im supposed to marry is literally right next to us have i lost my mind?!? & then he’s all like wtf are you doing here & this bitch is just like i need body heat <333 and he’s just like shit oh yeah true (like WHAT. i can’t tell if the choices drake knows that the mc is being fr or nah. kinda like the vibe of drake taking camping & the mc’s well-being so seriously that he’s just like yup! okay valid!) —- but anyways the scene where the mc is like you take it so seriously you were barking out orders & then drake is like wait did i ruin it :( with his sad face AHHHH i swear audrey wanted to kiss that adorable little pout from his face she’s like nah it was cute & he’s like cute? and she’s like yeah 🥰 & then he’s all like what else can i do to make your experience more memorable miss huntzberger like shut UP they’re such dorks!! but also i SWEAR mr. walker was down to fornicate (the true meaning of dtf btw!!) in those woods like if fuckin maxwell ugh i really dislike him more & more each play hadn’t interrupted i swear they would have fucked like this man was really like yeah next time we’re coming to the woods alone im gonna go down on you all night you can be as loud as you want baby. but yeah the whole time anya was just thinking of how much she wants this simple life with him how easy & right it feels how right he feels ugh she’s so in love it’s actually sickening to witness.

[perlukafarinn]

this is a season 9 au i guess. don’t ask for more specifics, i just wanted to write dean and cas getting drunk and making out “for practice”

Thank fucking God, Dad can’t see me now.

The thought flutters through Dean’s mind, a tiny, bitter thing there one moment and gone the next. He’s too comfortable right now to dwell on such negativity, laying on the couch, warm and loose-limbed.

They’ve been drinking - him and Cas, that is. Sam is nowhere near the bunker right now and honestly, thank God for that too, because all they’ve had tonight is pitcher after pitcher of margaritas.

Not Dean’s idea, for the record. Neither is the music currently playing on the radio, some upbeat bubblegum pop that he usually wouldn’t be caught dead listening to but can right now admit, at least to himself, that he kind of digs.

Cas picked the music, and the margaritas, because it turns out he doesn’t really like beer or hard liquor but he wanted to try getting drunk anyway. Dean’s the sucker who went out and bought all that margarita mix, because he’s finding it more and more difficult to tell Cas no these days.

Which might be why he’s currently letting Cas paint his toenails, with some polish Charlie left behind after her last visit. 

It’s bright blue and Dean is pretty sure Cas is getting it all over his feet but he can’t be bothered to care. It feels kind of nice, Cas’ hands brushing against his skin as he carefully applies the polish. Like being taken care of. 

“Fuck me,” Dean mutters and he’s sure Cas hasn’t heard him over the music but then his hand stills.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just-” Dean laughs, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “Are we having a slumber party right now?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Cas resumes his work. He’s sitting on the floor next to the couch, which can’t be comfortable, but he’s probably too drunk to care right now. Just like Dean. “I’ve never been to one before.”

Dean hums, staring up at the ceiling. 

“What does one do at a slumber party?”

“I don’t know,” Dean says. “This kinda crap, I guess. Paint each other’s nails, listen to music, get drunk on girly drinks. Talk about boys.” He snorts. “Or sex, if you’re not a preteen girl.”

“I’d rather not.”

Dean winces, thinking of Cas’ one sexual experience so far. Yeah, he wouldn’t be eager to talk about that either. 

Still, “You’ve at least rounded first with some chicks worth talking about.” Dean wracks his brain - Meg is the first to come to mind, but he knows better than to bring her up, even drunk off his ass. “Daphne, right? She was hot.”

“I suppose,” Cas says. 

“Why didn’t you ever hook up with her?” The question tastes bitter on Dean’s tongue and he’s not sure why. “Can’t tell me it’d be a sin, it’s not fornication if you’re married.”

Cas pauses his movements. Dean thinks he might have offended him so he raises his head, craning his neck to get a proper look at his face, but Cas doesn’t looks pissed, just deep in thought.

“We did round some bases,” he says, the words sounding stiff and alien coming from him. “But we rarely did more than kiss. Once tongues are involved the whole process becomes...” he makes a face, “unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant?” Dean repeats. He gets up on his elbows, sparing a glance at his toes - a whole mess of blue, Picasso would be so proud - before looking back at Cas. “Dude. You sure you weren’t just bad at it?”

Cas turns away, blushing. “Possibly. It’s not as if I’ve had much practice.”

“You learned some stuff from the pizza man,” Dean points out.

Cas huffs. The back of his ears have turned red, too. It’s kind of cute. 

“If you want, you can practice on me.”

The words tumble out faster than Dean can stop them. His mouth goes dry when Cas turns to look at him, eyes wide with shock, but there’s a reckless pounding in his heart that makes him push past the doubt.

“Do you want to?” he asks Cas. 

Cas glances down - at Dean’s lips and Dean licks them instinctively, heart racing faster. He’s not sure what he’s doing but his head is buzzing, a combination of alcohol and excitement, and he decides he doesn’t want to think too hard about it. Second thoughts can wait until tomorrow, when he’s sober.

“It would... just be for practice?” Cas asks.

Dean grins, easy. “Call it part of the slumber party experience.”

He tries to sit up further and Cas takes the hint to help him but between the efforts of two drunk, uncoordinated people, Dean somehow finds himself slipping off the couch, landing halfway on top of Cas and halfway on the floor. 

“You’re heavy,” Cas complains. 

“Fuck off,” Dean says but he’s laughing, giddy and for no real reason. He’s drunk and there’s some girl on the radio singing about being in love and Cas is right here, human but alive, smiling at the sound of Dean’s laughter and leaning in and, oh -

Right. They’re doing this. 

Dean is still kind of on top of Cas so he has to grab Cas’ shoulder to keep his balance, which has the added benefit of bringing him even closer. Cas is a little sloppy right at the beginning, teeth bumping against Dean’s lower lip as they kiss. 

Dean laughs, a little breathless already, mutters, “Careful,” against Cas’ parted lips.

Unpleasant is definitely not the word Dean would use to describe this. Cas’ lips are warm and he’s a bit clumsy, a little too eager, but then he sucks on Dean’s lower lip and bites down, gently, and Dean thinks he might have a knack for this, after all.

Dean’s the one to deepen the kiss, licking the seams of Cas’ lips until they part on a sigh. He tastes sweet and sour like those stupid margaritas, and Dean thinks he might be intoxicating like them too, because he’s sure as hell feeling more buzzed by the second.

Cas shifts underneath him, bringing one hand up to cup the back of Dean’s head, fingers digging into his scalp and Dean just about melts, humming nonsensical encouragements against Cas’ lips. 

Dean feels like he’s in free fall, head swimming at the hot twist of Cas’ tongue, stomach swooping when Cas pulls away to take a shuddering breath and then trails his lips down Dean’s neck, licking, biting.

Dean should discourage him - like this whole thing isn’t middle school enough, now Cas is gonna give him a goddamn hickey - but he just tilts his head back, gives Cas more room to work. Cas presses a kiss against his Adam’s apple and then licks the dip of his clavicle, slow and hot like he’s savoring the taste of Dean’s skin. 

At some point, Cas’ other hand landed on Dean’s waist and it’s maybe the only thing keeping him upright. Dean is on fire, he’s melting, he’s dizzy with desire, almost nauseous, and all they’ve done is make out for a couple of minutes. 

“Dean,” Cas says, whispers into his skin, and fuck, he sounds wrecked. “Dean.”

He’s hard. Dean can feel it, poking him in the thigh, but somehow that doesn’t scare him half as much as his own answering hardness, quickly growing uncomfortable in his jeans.

“We should-” Dean pulls away, puts his hand on Cas’ chest to keep him from chasing, “-we should stop. That’s enough practice.”

Cas stares up at him, challenging. “Is it?”

Dean doesn’t give him the satisfaction of a stare down, clambering off his lap and out of his embrace. “Yep.”

He sits down on the floor next to Cas. He hears Cas huff and feels a little guilty, winding the poor guy up like that and then stopping as soon as things were getting good.

But they were just practicing, Dean reminds himself. If they’d gone any further, it wouldn’t have been practice anymore. At least not anything Cas could put to practical use the next time he hooks up with a chick.

Dean swallows past the sudden bitter taste in his mouth. He looks over at Cas, who’s staring at the ceiling.

“Want me to paint your toenails?” Dean offers.

Cas sighs. “...Yes.”

[baepsaesbae]

Eclipse

Pairing— Day Fairy!Hoseok x Night fairy!reader    

Genre— SMUT, fae au, angst, idiots to lovers

Warnings— Oral (F receiving), nipple play, explicit unprotected sex, hair pulling, both praise and slight derogatory dirty talk bc I can’t make up my mind, slight swearing

Word Count— 3.3k  

Summary— The summer solstice is here and it’s time to celebrate. Your favorite part of the solstice is that you get to see Hoseok, or rather, the love of your life. It’s too bad you haven’t told him how you really felt, even though it has been centuries. Maybe this year will be different. 

A/N— This fic is part of The Fabled Collab hosted by @joontopia, @kimtaehyunq, and @whipped-for-kpop-fics. Hoseok is my sunshine, so I just had to write about him! Thank you to @s0seo and @taegularities for giving me motivation to write. Lastly, huge shoutout to Eden from @thebiasrekkers​ for making this awesome banner for me! As always, let me know how you guys like the fic! My askbox is always open <3

Fae clans have many holidays and rituals, but solstices are by far the most celebrated. Solstices mark the pivotal event that shifts the seasonal responsibilities between the sun and moon clans. The summer and winter solstice are always the biggest events of the year, with about a week of festivities leading up to the final event. 

Sweat ran down your spine as the sun beat down on you. You’ve been holding up a stupid banner for what felt like an eternity.

“Okay wait, you’re gonna hate me but I think we should put it back to where we originally had it,” Sunghoon said with furrowed brows.

“That’s it. We’ve been doing this all morning. Figure this out yourself,” you angrily threw down the banner and stormed off before Sunghoon had the chance to yell at you.

You ignored the friendly calls from other fae that were setting up decor nearby. It was way past your bedtime. Cranky and drenched in sweat, you were definitely not a happy night fairy. Heading straight to the pond, you derobed and found comfort in the cool waters that  washed away your stress instantly. You gazed up at the blue sky while floating on your back. The day truly was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. However, nighttime was better in your very much biased opinion. The dark sky littered with countless stars that glittered like diamonds was an unbeatable sight. 

“Hey there sunshine!” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You dipped back into the water and turned to the source of the sound.

“Hey there, perv. Care to join me?” you beckoned.

“I wish I could, but I need to go finalize some plans for the handoff ceremony--”

“It’s the same EVERY year. C’mon Hobi, you don’t need to go,” you whined.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset, how does that sound?” he tried to appease you.

“Midnight. I’m already exhausted, I don’t wanna wake up early,” you blew raspberries into the pond.

“That’s fair. I’ll see you then okay?” Hoseok waved before flying off.

On top of parties filled with indulgences that would blow the mind of any feeble human, Hoseok was the added bonus that made you eager for each solstice. Admittedly, you two have had some sort of flirtationship going on for the past few centuries. Your friends always teased you about how madly head over heels you were for him. As much as you wanted to believe that he loved you in the same way, something always felt off.  

Hoseok always reciprocated your flirtatious advances, but it felt more like a game between friends rather than something substantial. You’ve even observed his interactions with other fairies, and it didn’t seem like he gave you any special treatment. He was simply a good friendly guy that everyone loved, but not the way that you loved him. 

You were dying to know how he truly felt about you. All these years of playful banter had been fun, but they had also been simultaneously eating away at you. There’s no way he doesn’t know that you love him. At the same time, what if he thinks you’re just a good friend? You needed to know for sure, and you intended to confront him about it at midnight.

“Good evening,” you greeted Hoseok shyly as you approached the pond’s bank. 

“Good day to you sunshine,” Hoseok called back as he kicked at the water.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked.

“Boring as always. You’re right, it’s the same every year. But the elders still want to go over everything again to ensure that the ceremony is perfect,” Hoseok sighed.

“Thanks for coming to hangout with me even though you’re so busy,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day! You’re the perfect person to unwind with after a long day,” Hoseok smiled. There it was. The radiant smile you fell for the first time you ever met him. 

“You sure I’m the perfect person for that? What do you do when you’re back in your own land surrounded by other day fae?” you prodded, hoping to steer the conversation onto the ‘what are we’ topic. 

“I have my friends there for sure, and I appreciate them too. But it’s different with you. Maybe because I can only hangout with you twice a year. You’re like my super special friend, yaknow?” Hoseok tried to explain. 

“Uh yeah, for sure. Like a special playdate kind of thing huh?” you tried to hide your hurt feelings.

“Exactly! You get it. It’s like you’re my favorite dessert that I can only have twice a year,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right…” you whispered softly to yourself. You spent the rest of the night listening to the unfruitful discussions Hoseok had during his meetings. All the excitement over the festival had drained from you. Now, you just wanted it to be over so you can go sulk in peace. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hoseok observed, “You haven’t interjected once about how stupid our traditions are or how you’re looking forward to having long nights again.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just tired. Sunghoon really worked me to the bone yesterday, that damn day fairy,” you faked a yawn.

“Hey, be nice! Wasn’t it you who volunteered to help us anyway?” Hoseok shook his head.

‘Yeah, because I thought I’d be able to work with you,’ you thought.

“It was a bizarre streak of altruism, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

“Nah, I know you’re a kind fairy deep down!” Hoseok playfully nudged your shoulder. Normally you would welcome this type of physical affection, but for right now it served as a painful reminder that you were merely seen as a buddy. 

You actively avoided Hoseok for the remainder of the week, counting down the hours to when it would finally all be over. You made up some lame excuse to not hangout with Hoseok every time he approached you. He must have caught on by the final day, either that or he was extremely busy. Afterall, he was the MC for the entire ordeal. 

Apparently, your abrasive reputation preceded you because no one wanted your help with anything. As soon as they saw you coming, they would randomly find themselves very preoccupied with something that made them too busy to talk to you. The only person who would put you to work was Sunghoon, who was one of Hoseok’s best friends. You wondered why he was always so nice to you even when you complained the entire time you helped him.

“That’s the last table! They all look great, thanks for helping with the set up,” Sunghoon gave you a thumbs up.

“You know it’s pointless setting up all these tables. Most of the fairies are just gonna be dancing or fucking all night long, no one is gonna be sitting down,” you said.

“Are you gonna be one of the fairies partying?” Sunghoon inquired.

“Definitely not,” you answered curtly.

“Then I’m happy at least one of these tables will be utilized,” Sunghoon nodded, “Try to enjoy yourself tonight okay?”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The entire forest seemed to come alive that night. The trees swayed with the enchanting music while cheers of merriment erupted around the party scene. You sat alone at a mushroom table with your third (or was it fourth?) cup of berry wine. You glared at the fairies who had lost themselves to their pleasures, whether it be the wine or the toadstools, or perhaps even both. Fairies who had given into their more lustful urges could be seen on the outskirts of the dance floor, some in the innocent stages of kissing and others entangled full fledged fornication. Scoffing at the obscene orgy, you stumbled off to get another cup of wine. Even though you weren’t really participating, you had to admit that fairies knew how to throw a party. 

“Hey ___, I noticed you’ve been by yourself the whole evening. Want some company?” someone asked behind you as you filled up your mug to the brim. You turned to see two Sunghoons merge to become one hazy Sunghoon in the blink of an eye. 

“F-ffuck off Sunghoon,” you slurred.

“I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you did for this year’s summer solstice,” Sunghoon continued, unfazed by your harshness, “Wanna dance to celebrate?”

“Nope,” you answered as you pushed him aside.

“Yeah she seemed pretty pissed dude,” Sunghoon said while taking a large swig.

“At you or in general?” Hoseok inquired.

“Dunno man, she’s always been like that. However, she seemed more aggravated than usual, which is hard to imagine,” Sunghoon chuckled, “Did you do something to her?”

“No! I’ve been replaying everything we talked about at the pond but everything seemed fine! I even told her that she was my super special friend and---oh shit,” Hoseok’s face fell.

“Idiot,” Sunghoon tsked. 

Both fae clans had gathered by the main stage, intently listening to the same speeches that the clan leaders have spoken for centuries. You watched apathetically as the everlasting flame was being formally handed over. The crowd roared as the flame changed from a deep crimson red to an icy silver color with a blue hue, signifying that the solstice had come to pass. 

If the festival wasn’t wild before, it had only gotten more out of hand after the official ceremony. Seeing the other fairies go wild in every sense of the word made you nauseous. The noise level intensified as you watched your fairy brethren engage in rather promiscuous activities. Someone even beckoned for you to join in the fun, but you just walked away. The only person you wanted to have that kind of fun with was Hoseok. It infuriated you that your thoughts always drifted to him. You filled up your cup one last time and walked away from the ruckus, towards an empty grove. Hopefully you would be able to wallow in self pity in peace there. 

The stars twinkled above you, and dim moonlight speckled the ground around you as it shone through the trees. You could still hear the party, but it was much fainter now and served as nice background noise to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. With a deep exhale, you fought to hold back tears. You felt so foolish. Too many years have been wasted in vain for an unrequited love that you should have seen coming. It was so stupid of you to hold onto a sliver of hope that Hoseok would like you back. 

“The party is that way,” a familiar voice called out to you.

“Then why aren’t you there?” you didn’t try to mask the annoyance in your voice.

“I saw you walk away, I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” you sat up and hissed.

“Why are you being so hostile? You’re the one who has been avoiding me all week!” Hoseok raised his voice.

“I’m sure you didn’t have much time to spend with me anyway,” you huffed.

“That’s not true. I spent every moment of my free time looking for you, only for you to turn me away. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok calmed down.

“Fine. I’m in love with you, okay? How fucking embarrassing. It hurt when you said that I was your super best friend or whatever. Seeing you afterward just reminded me of how dumb I am,” you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh sunshine, I’m the idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my special friend because I like you too. I wanted to spend every second with you this week. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, I’m so sorry ____,” Hoseok got down on his knees and pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner then!” you pushed him off.

“I thought it was obvious from the way we flirted!” he argued. 

“You’re nice to everyone, it was hard for me to tell,” you pouted.

“My apologies for not being a sourpuss like you,” Hoseok laughed.

“So...what now? It wasn’t really a romantic confession but I guess our feelings are out in the open now,” you whispered as you leaned against him.

Suddenly, Hoseok pushed you back to the ground, straddling your hips. His dark hair nearly covered his eyes as he looked down at you. He was beyond beautiful, his white iridescent wings glittered ethereally in the moonlight. 

“Remember when I said you’re like a dessert I can only have twice a year? I’d like to make that a reality,” Hobi smirked. He bent over to kiss you. It was soft at first, his plush lips pressing up against yours. He gently cupped your face with one hand while the other wandered to your chest, undoing your blouse. Lust overtook the both of you as the kiss deepened and Hoseok fondled your breasts. You let out a small gasp as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.  

“Spread those legs for me, sunshine,” he demanded.

You complied, slowly exposing yourself to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him while in such a compromising position. Hoseok gingerly kissed a trail along your inner thighs towards your core. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm under him in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, “Let’s play a game. You have to make eye contact with me while I eat you out. Every time you look away, I stop.”

“You’re evil,” you huffed before reluctantly looking at the beautiful being perched between your legs. 

“That’s my girl,” he purred approvingly before spreading your folds with his fingers. His eyes darkened with lust as you watched him lick tantalizingly slow stripes. He could feel your need for more, so he moved up to focus on your clit, giving it special attention as his tongue swirled around it. 

You tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping him tighter as he licked your clit faster. All your composure was lost as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

“What is it? Need more?” Hoseok teased as his fingers traced your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” Hoseok feigned ignorance

“Please touch me,” you said softly.

“We need to work on your begging, but you’re so adorable I can’t say no,” Hobi dove back into stimulating your clit as he slipped a finger inside of you. He smirked at how easily he went in, and immediately added a second finger. The new feeling had you throwing your head back as he grazed your g-spot. Right as things began to feel good, he retracted everything.

“Hobi!” you cried out in frustration.

“You looked away. Remember the rules to our little game?” Hoseok chided. You glared down at him as he immediately picked up where he left off, not giving you time to readjust. Fighting back the urge to close your eyes, soft moans escaped from your lips.

“Ready to cum, my dear ___?” he asked sweetly as his fingers dipped to directly attack your g-spot.

There was no time to give a proper response. Your back arched and your toes curled up as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Drenched in your juices, Hoseok glistened under the moonlight.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hoseok praised, “But I’m not finished with you yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

He unbuckled his trousers, releasing the monster that dangled between his legs. You willingly spread your legs for him, eager for more.

“So needy, you haven’t had enough yet?” Hoseok tsked as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

Finally, Hoseok began to bury himself into you. He took his time, relishing how your warm walls squeezed him. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, focusing on feeling every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. The dark lust that swam in his eyes broke for a second, replaced by the warm smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. He bent down to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated. 

Hoseok moved his hips slowly as he fucked you at a deep yet gentle pace. Mouths still colliding, you shyly licked at his lips. Taking your hint, Hoseok’s tongue met yours. As the kisses deepened with more saliva being interchanged, Hoseok’s thrusts became harsher.    

“You’re so fucking sexy. Lemme see that ass baby,” Hoseok growled as he flipped you over.

He smacked your ass twice and watched it jiggle in awe before placing a firm grip on your hips. Almost animalistically, he bucked into you. Your body jolted forward with each thrust. You had never been fucked this hard before, and it was heavenly. Hoseok’s control over his body movement was insane. Your moans grew louder as his hips continuously rolled into you. 

One of Hoseok’s hands formed a tight grip on your hair, roughly bringing your head up off the ground. You couldn’t stop your wanton moans from filling the open air. 

“H-Hoseok,” you cried out.

“What is it? Is it too much for you?” Hoseok cooed in your ear as he brought your head back even closer to him.

“Mmm-no,” was all you could make out.

“I knew you could take it all, such a good slut,” Hoseok praised as he let go of your hair.

Unable to hold yourself up, you immediately fell back onto your chest. Your fingernails dug into the dirt as you could feel another orgasm swelling up inside of you. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” you wailed out.

“I’m almost there, wait for me baby,” Hoseok instructed.

With perfect timing, Hoseok let out a guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside of you. Sounds of pleasure bounced around the grove as you came in unison. Hoseok’s cum dripped down the sides of your inner thighs when he pulled out. 

“How did I do, sunshine?” Hoseok asked jovially as you laid on the ground before him.

“You knocked me out. I don’t think I can move for a while,” you weakly answered with a smile.

“Not a problem, we can just stay here for a while, sunshine,” Hoseok laid down beside you, beckoning for you to rest atop his chest. 

“I like when you call me that,” you yawned.

“Sunshine?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, that. It makes me feel special,” you nodded.

“Is that so? I’m glad it makes you feel special, because you are. You’ve always been the spunky night fairy that everyone knows but is too afraid to approach,” Hoseok laughed.

“What! I am totally friendly! Just not to those who piss me off,” you defended, “Which...I guess is a lot of people so I suppose I see your point. What made you want to be my friend if everyone thought I’m scary?”

“You treated me like everyone else. It always felt like people put on a fake facade around me since I’m the chief’s son. They’re nice to me to try and curry favor with my father, or maybe flirt with me to try and gain some special sort of status. I don’t know. I’m just me,” Hoseok shrugged. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my sunshine,” you hugged him.

“That makes me feel great. I’ll do my best to see you more than twice a year, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I guess I can clear my schedule and come over to visit you too,” you giggled, “Or maybe we can run away and make a clan of our own.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “Don’t tempt me. I’d love to go somewhere where no one knows my name or expects anything from me.”

“How about we go to where the day meets the night?” you offered.

“Like what? An eclipse?” Hoseok said as he gazed into the night sky.

“Precisely. We can make an eclipse clan. We only have to do festivals for eclipses, and those are kinda rare,” you giggled.

“Sounds like a good dream, sunshine. Let’s seriously discuss it in the morning when we’re both more sober,” Hoseok kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunshine,” you whispered into his chest.

Published July 23, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[nhlandotherimagines]

Oh Brother- Nolan Patrick (ft. Travis Konecny)

Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this for ages, and I finally just said ‘screw it!’ and am posting it! I’d love any and all feed back, and please tell me if you find any mistakes I’m the worst at editing! Thank you in advance!

Summary: Baby Konecny, that’s all you’re known as now that you’ve moved in with your older brother Travis. You love your brother, but things get a little difficult after one night at a bar with his bestfriend Nolan. Okay, and maybe one night turned to more, but Travis can’t know.

Tagging a few people, so if for any reason you would like to a) not be tagged on this particular post for any reason or b) would not liked to be tagged on any of my posts please do not hesitate to tell me ☺️ @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @titobeauvs @bigboigritty

Word Count: 8.4 K

WARNINGS: This is definitely ✨spicy✨ at times, 18+ (sexual themes), cursing, alcohol, ANGST, anxiety, lying about/hiding a relationship, hospitals, some cute moments as well of course. (Please let me know if you find anything else in here that should be mentioned here thank you)

_______________

“Hey Y/n/n, you coming out with us after the game tonight?” Your brother Travis yelled to you from the kitchen of your shared apartment. You had just moved in with him a few months ago to start school in Philly, so you hadn’t gotten out much.

“You really think you’re okay with your baby sister going out with you tonight TK?” You added giggling to yourself as you pulled on your Flyers jersey. “Well you need to get out and see the world kid!”

“Call me kid again and I will set Nolan on you during warm ups.” You smirk joining him in the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

Travis’ face twists a little, but you choose to ignore it. “Fine! I’ll go.” You add shoving his shoulder lightly. He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You don’t press him on it though as you both get ready to head to the arena.

“Trav and Nolan seem off, do you know what’s up with them?” You hadn’t really noticed, but now that Travis’ girlfriend Karly was pointing it out you could totally see it.

“I don’t know, but when I mentioned sticking Nolan on him earlier for calling me a kid, Travis did get a little weird. I hope they are okay.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, you know how Trav can be at times!” Karly smiled reassuringly. The two of you continued to talk throughout the game, and soon enough you were waiting together outside the dressing room. Thankfully Travis and Nolan came out of the dressing room together both laughing which was a good sign.

“Hey babe!” Travis smiles wrapping his arms around Karly lifting her off the ground. You roll your eyes playfully and smile up at Nolan. He winks down at you, and your face heats up slightly.

“What’s up baby Konecny?” Nolan smirks down at you, resting his elbow on your head to emphasize the height difference. “Nolan I swear to god you’ve gotta stop calling me that! Just because I’m TK’s sister doesn’t mean I enjoy you pointing it out.” You scold, trying to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Oh my bad let me try that again.” He clears his throat dramatically and drops his arm so it’s around your shoulder, “What’s up baby?” His voice is deep, and you nearly choke at the pet name. You open your mouth, and close it immediately. Unable to form any coherent sentences. Thankfully Travis finally turns to you, a frown on his face as his gaze comes to Nolan’s arm still around your shoulder.

“Alright then, are we ready to go?” He asks awkwardly. You and Karly share a look, and Nolan’s arm falls from your shoulder. You try not to think about it, but you already miss the contact and feel cold as he steps away from you. “Let’s go!” Karly smiles, and starts dragging you out to the parking lot by the wrist. She is practically running, and yells to the boys that you are both going to the bathroom before you leave. This seems odd because you had gone not even a half hour ago as you both waited for the boys.

“Do you seriously have to pee again? You didn’t even drink that m-“ You started to question but Karly quickly cut you off. “NOLAN IS INTO YOU!”

“Woah! What!? Karly what are you talking about?” Your heart rate sped up and your face felt like it was on fire.

“That’s what is wrong with Travis. He is pissed off that his best friend is into his little sister! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.” She is mostly just rambling on to herself and you feel sick. “He’s not into me Karly, he’s just nice to me because I’m TK’s baby sister.”

She stops and stares at you for a moment before her smirk grows even wider. “Oh. My. God. You’re into him too!”

“Nooo! No. No. No. Karly I am not, don’t even say that.”

“Why not?”

“Travis would kill me if he found out that I like Nolan!” After the words spilled past your lips followed by a moment of silence, your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “Karly I didn’t mean-“

“OH MY GOD! This is amazing!”

“SHHHH! What if they hear us!?”

———

After a few moments to collect yourselves, you head out to the car. As you open the passenger door of Travis’ car Karly grabs your arm. “Do you think I could sit in the front with Trav?” You know exactly what she is doing. “But I always sit shot gun...” you whine.

“Y/n, seriously just get in the back it’s a five minute drive back home.” Travis sighs out, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. You groan inwardly and climb into the back with Nolan.

“So Patty are you coming over to pregame with us?” Travis asks watching Nolan in the rear view mirror as he starts the car.

“What you meant to say I think is ‘Hey Patty will you come over and babysit y/n/n so Karly and I can fornicate before we go out?’ and the answer is yes I can, but I’m drinking your liquor and you better keep it down this time.” Nolan smirks at you once again and you quickly look down at your hands a smile tugging at your lips.“Yeah I’m with Patty here, I don’t need to hear that again!” You and Nolan laugh together in the backseat as the two in the front seat do their best to deny the accusations.

——

About an hour later, you are stepping out of your room dressed in dark jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket. Your hair is curled a little, and your makeup all done. “You clean up nice baby Konecny” Nolan smiles at you from his spot on the couch as he tosses you a can of beer.

“Am I gonna be stuck living in your boyfriends shadow forever Patty?” You giggle cracking the beer and falling on to the couch beside him.“Jealous?” He grins, leaning back and stretching his arm across the back of the couch just behind your head.

“Not in the slightest.” As you both sit in a comfortable silence, you can hear music starting to play down the hall and you groan loudly and check the time on your phone. “They do this every time!”

“Oh don’t be such a baby y/n, they’re in love.” Nolan teases. “Yeah well they will still be in love tonight when I’m passed out drunk and can’t hear them.” You grumble playing with the hem of your shirt, and take another swig of beer.

“Sounds to me like someone needs to get laid” You immediately spit out the beer in your mouth choking on it. “Point proven.” He chuckles

“Hey! I get laid plenty thank you very much!” You shoot back at him after catching your breath. “Oh yeah? Must be when we are at the rink then, because last I checked TK hasn’t seen a single guy step foot in this apartment. And I know you don’t go out.”

“Why do you care?” You spit at him, becoming angry because you know he’s right. With that Nolan leans closer to you, and you can feel his breath on your neck. Subconsciously you tilt your head revealing more of your neck to him. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he whispers, “Gotta keep an eye on my competition.”

“What the-“ You don’t even have a chance to process the words when Travis’ voice makes you jump.

“Travis! Ready to go?” You practically shout, the nervousness pouring off you. Already on your feet walking towards the door.

“Wow TK that was fast. Not sure if I should be congratulating you or apologizing Karly.” Nolan chirps. You can feel the tension in the room, but no one acknowledges it. So soon enough you’re all packed in an Uber. Travis and Nolan both have their heads stuck in their phones, and Karly’s hands are all over Travis. It’s all really uncomfortable for you, so you’re the first out when the car pulls up to the bar.

Ignoring the entire group you make your way inside and to the bar, trying your best to flag down a bartender. “Want a hand short stuff?” You feel your breath catch in your throat as Nolan’s hand falls to the small of your back when he slides into the spot next to you. You just nod in response, as Nolan orders you a drink after quickly catching the attention of the bartender. He smiles down at you, and his hand slides lower so it is now resting dangerously close to the top of your ass.

“You look really good tonight Y/n.” You blush and mutter out a weak thank you, “You don’t look too bad yourself Patty.” Before either of you can say anything else your drinks are placed in front of you. Grabbing them quickly, you made your way to the booth Travis and Karly had claimed for you all.

“Wanna dance Y/n!?” Karly asked hopefully, a wide grin on her face. You chug about half your beverage, and take her hand as she drags you to the dance floor.

You and Karly dance for awhile together and you try and forget about the boys entirely. You’ve been mostly successful in that until you feel two big hands on your waist and a body dancing against you. You’re having too much fun to really care about the stranger dancing with you, until Karly speaks up about it. “Y/n, Nolan hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night! I think he’s jealous!” She smirks wiggling her eyebrows.

“You’ve been making eyes at my brother all night, how would you even know? Besides he’s not jealous.” You throw back, ignoring the pit forming in your stomach. You really wished Nolan felt that way about you, but he doesn’t. He couldn’t. You’re just baby Konecny. A frown creeps it’s way onto your face the farther in your thoughts you get. You’re so lost in thought, that you don’t even notice Karly slip away to find TK. It’s not until you feel the warm hands leave your hips, that you manage to tune back into your surroundings.

“I think you are done here man, go find someone else to bother.” Nolan is now standing between you and the guy you’d been dancing with. If you had been able to stop staring at Nolan, you might have even noticed how attractive your dance partner had truly been. “Nolan-“ You try and butt in to tell him it’s okay.

“Listen dude I didn’t know she was taken I’m sorry!” The mans hands go up in defence as he smiles apologetically at you. “Yeah well she is, so you can go now”

Your heart stops at his words. You knew it was just him playing the protective big brother roll, and hell TK probably sent him to do it. That doesn’t mean you didn’t feel things when he said it. “Okay I don’t know why TK told you to come over here, but I am quite capable of taking care of myself!” You scold him crossing your arms. You push past him bumping his arm as you head towards the table again. You don’t manage to get far though before Nolan’s hand is wrapped around your bicep. “He didn’t.”

You turn around to face him, and are taken aback by how close he is. The look in his eyes indecipherable. “What?” You manage to croak out, unable to comprehend what’s happening because you’re so nervous.

“TK didn’t send me over here. In fact Karly and TK left 5 minutes ago, but how would you know right? You were too busy basically having sex with that guy on the dance floor!” His words are sharp and his grip on your arm tightens slightly.

“I was not! And even if I was Patty, what’s it to you? Maybe I’d like to have a guy take me home for once, maybe I’m sick of having to go home and listen to my brother have sex with his girlfriend!” You’re yelling now, but as Nolan’s eyes darken you get nervous. “You’re not my babysitter...” you mumble dropping your eyes to stare at your feet. “I know I’m not your babysitter Y/n, but I can’t let you go home with strangers.”

“Why not? I’m an adult!” You’re sure you sound like a whining child at this point, which is not helping your argument. Nolan groans. He lets go of your arm and runs his hands over his face and stares up at the ceiling. “Because. Because I want to take you home. Okay?”

“N-Nolan what are you talking about?” Your heart is pounding in your ears, and your head is spinning.

“Y/n, I’m sorry if this is weird, but god I think you’re amazing and there is nothing I want to do more than be with you tonight. I want to be the one you dance with like that.” He lets out a shaky breath, before finishing, “And fuck Y/n/n, I want to take you home with me.” Before you can even comprehend what all of it means you’re stepping into him. You run your hands up his torso and down his arms slowly. He’s eyes are watching your every move, as you spin around so your back as facing him. Grabbing his wrists you set his hands on your hips, smiling over your shoulder at him. “Then shut up and dance with me Patty.” Nolan smirks, and pulls your body flush against him. You move your hips against his, biting your lip hard as you feel his bulge rub against you. His lips attach to the base of your neck, leaving sloppy kisses in a trail to your ear. “Y/n-“ he whispers in your ear, “let me take you home.” It’s a desperate plea, but the way he pulls your earlobe between his teeth as he pulls away makes you rub your thighs together.

“Nolan-“ you practically moan his name, “This is a bad idea.” With that he grips your hips, spins you around, and crashes his lips to yours. He is trying to communicate how it’s not a bad idea, or if it is, that it’s worth it. And as you melt into him, becoming more needy, you know he’s right. You barely make your way out of the bar and into the Uber before Nolan’s hands are roaming your body more freely. His lips are searching yours, as his hand creeps up under your tshirt. He moans against your lips when his fingers reach the lace of the bralette you were wearing. You arch your back in anticipation of his hands finally palming at your breasts, but you groan in frustration as he pulls away from you entirely. “Someone is needy!” He chuckles, “we are here.” He winks at you paying the driver and practically drags you out of the car into his building.

When you both finally reach his apartment he unlocks the door letting you inside. As you stand in his living room you start to feel self conscious. “Baby come here.” Nolan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you follow it into the kitchen. The pet name fuelling the fire that had been growing in you all evening.

Before you turn the corner into the kitchen, you pull your shirt over your head and throwing it to the floor. There is no going back now. “Fuck.”

“Are you just going to stare at me all night Patty, or are you going to fuck me? Because if not I’m just going to do it myself.” You smirk at him, running your hands down your sides stopping at the waste of your jeans.

“Jesus Christ! I was ready to bend you over this counter, but I think watching you touch yourself sounds pretty fucking hot.” He smirks and pats the counter looking at you expectantly.

———

Your evening started in Nolan’s kitchen, and eventually you found your way to his bedroom. The chemistry between you two, was undeniable. Nothing prepared you though, for the feeling of waking up in his arms. You were facing him, his face inches from yours. His breathing was shallow, and his cheeks their usual shade of pink. He was beautiful. “Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” His voice was groggy and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t sexy as all hell.

“I wasn’t-“ you began your protest, but were cut off by your phone ringing loudly from the nightstand.As you roll over to grab it, Nolan groans in protest. Your stomach drops when you see the name flashing across the screen. “Oh fuck!” Nolan’s eyes are wide when you turn back to him, terror evident on your face. “It’s Travis.”

“Hey Trav, what’s up?” You answer, hoping he doesn’t pick up on how unsteady your voice is.

“Where are you? Are you okay? I tried getting Nolan on the phone to see what happened last night.” His voice is laced with worry, and guilt washes over you. “I’m okay, I promise.” You’re practically whispering into the phone. Nolan’s eyes burning into you with his hand covering his mouth in shock, isn’t helping your nerves.

“Holy shit, y/n, did you go home with someone!?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Umm- uh- yeah I guess I did?”

“Atta girl! Do you want me to come get you?” He asks, and you nearly throw up at the thought.

“NO!” You cringe outwardly at how fast and loudly you protested. “I’ve already ordered the Uber, I’ll be home soon!” With that you quickly said your goodbyes and hung up. Immediately getting out of bed, and searching around for your clothes. You can feel Nolan’s eyes on you.

“You could just stay awhile you know.” His voice is so soft it almost doesn’t sound like him. “Right!” You laugh humourlessly, “and would you like to explain to my brother that it was actually you I slept with last night?” As you look over at him for the first time since you left the bed, all the air is sucked from your lungs. The sheets draped around his waist, an arm resting behind his head, his hair a mess. He looks so perfect, but his face twists at your words and the look now present in his eyes is one you can’t place.

“The kitchen.” He responds lazily. Your brows furrow in confusion. “Your clothes. They are in the kitchen.” He adds, but his eyes don’t meet yours. Your mind wanders to last night in the kitchen, and you can’t help the smirk that comes to your face. Walking slowly back over to Nolan, your place a hand on his cheek. He leans into it, and your heart melts as his gaze finally meets yours.

“I had a good time last night. We should do it again sometime.” You wink at him and he chuckles lightly in response. “We just can’t let my brother know we are fooling around. He’d kill us!”

“Sure. Yeah.” He responds shaking his head and kissing you lightly. “Don’t tell your brother.”

———

“Took you long enough!” The words were out of his mouth before you even closed the door.

“Jesus Trav, I’m an adult I shouldn’t have to let you know exactly where I am and when I’ll be home!” You glare at him, as you kick off your shoes and basically fall onto the couch. He laughs at you as you let out a loud groan. “Long night?”

“You have no idea!”

“Okay ew gross!” He whines covering his ears.

“You asked! Besides I’m sure your night was just as eventful!” You laugh as he gives you the finger, walking down the hall.

———

Over the course of the next couple months you found yourself falling into bed with Nolan more than you’d care to admit. You also wouldn’t admit how much you enjoyed spending time with him. He was always so sweet to you, and you wanted more than the whole “friends with benefits” arrangement, but you knew you couldn’t have it, even if it was something Nolan wanted too. Which it wasn’t. The only part you really hated about this whole thing, was hiding it from Travis.

“Nolan needs a date to the Christmas charity dinner.” Travis announces as he falls down on the couch between you and Karly. He had just gotten back from practice, so when that was the first thing out of his mouth you and Karly both looked at him in confusion. “You should go with him Y/n, he says his new girlfriend is too shy to go. So you should go with him, because it wouldn’t be weird y’know?” He states matter-of-fact-ly.

“Babe, why would going with Y/n be any less weird than going with anyone else?” Karly speaks up before you can, because your mind is running a million miles a minute. Did Nolan have a girlfriend? He couldn’t. Right?

“Because, it’s not like there would be anything happening between them. It’d give his girlfriend peace of mind.” He shrugs getting up from the couch, and walking into the kitchen. Karly sends you a sad look, and you feel sick.

Travis really had no clue what was going on, and you should be trying to keep it that way. You couldn’t help the question falling past your lips though, as he came back in the living room with a glass of water. “So who is this girlfriend whose job I’m expected to take for the evening?” You groan internally at how jealous that sounded.

“Dunno,” Travis shrugs, “he gets pretty flustered any time someone asks about her. Doesn’t want us to know I guess. The only reason we even found out about her in the first place was because Patty kept showing up to the rink covered head to toe in hickies and scratch marks.”

“Sounds to me like this girl is just a hookup Trav.” Karly adds and smiles at you. She is obviously trying to make you feel better about the fact the guy you like is with another girl. She doesn’t know however how much that comment hurt. It’s you, you’re the hookup. Travis shrugs once again and takes a sip of water, turning to watch whatever bad reality show Karly had put on to watch. You tried to watch too, but the tears that stung at your eyes threatening to fall, forced you to get up quietly and slip out the front door.

Not sure what to do next, you pulled out your phone pressing Nolan’s contact. “Hey Y/n, what’s up?” He mumbled as he answered your call. “Hi- can I uh” you hesitate for a moment as the first tear slips down your face, “can I come over?”

“Uhhh I’m kind of busy at the moment.” Your stomach drops at his response, and the tears fall faster as you try and hold back a sob.

“What did you need?” He speaks again when you don’t respond.

“Oh- Travis said you needed a date to the charity dinner, a-and I was just thinking we could talk about it.” You say, voice breaking slightly. “It was stupid anyway, never mind.” You cover your mouth quickly to muffle the sob you’ve been suppressing. “Y/n, are you okay?” You can hear the concern in his voice, he knows you’re crying now. You can’t form any words, so you shake your head even though he can’t see you. You let yourself cry now, no longer fighting it as you slump against your steering wheel.

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.” You can hear him pulling on his shoes and grabbing his keys. “I-I’m in my car.” You manage to get out in between sobs, desperately trying to stop crying. You want to object, and tell him you’re fine, but you can’t. You need to see him.

“You stay right there, you’re too upset to be driving. I’ll be there soon. Okay?” You hear him get into his car closing the door. You nod in response, and even though he can’t see you he seems to know. You expected him to hang up, but he doesn’t. Instead Nolan puts you on speaker phone, but he doesn’t say much. Instead you hear him muttering to himself about stupid drivers and occasionally telling you he’s almost there.

You must have spaced out, completely focused on the anxiety driven sobs wracking through your body, because you don’t notice when he hangs up. Moments later your car door is opened, and a hand is placed gently on your thigh. “Y/n.” His voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear it, “what’s wrong?” Embarrassment floods you immediately. You groan throwing your head back against the headrest, wiping at your face in frustration. You try once again to tell him you’re okay, but your voice is gone. You just shake your head and and try to stop the tears.

“Look at me please.” His voice is both firm and pleading. You drop your gaze to wear he is knelt down next to your car. His thumb is rubbing soothing circles on your thigh, and his eyes are full of confusion. The tears that had slowed mostly to a stop, sting your eyes again. You want to jump into his arms, and just stay there while he holds you. You know it’s not an option, so instead you let out a little whimper tears falling again. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and cracks as you say it, but you manage to muster out the apology.

“No. No, don’t be sorry. Hey it’s okay!” He wipes the tears from your cheek with his free hand, but they are immediately replaced with new ones. “I’m going to call TK, he will know what to do.”

“No!” You practically yell at him in protest. “P-please don’t.”

“Okay.” He looks at you, concern once again written all over his face. “What do you need?”

“You.” You regret the honest answer as soon as it slips past your lips, but decide to keep going anyway. “Fuck, Nolan I’m sorry I just- I’m really confused, and I just. Im sick of being Travis’ little sister. I’m sick of being baby Konecny and when I’m with you, I feel like I’m me. Like I’m just y/n. That’s all I want, but I feel guilty about it. And I know that the boys are giving you a hard time about “your girlfriend” so I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m holding you back, and I’m sorry I’m jeopardizing your friendship with Travis. We can stop now.” Nolan says nothing. Instead, he reaches across your lap and unbuckled your seatbelt. He gently frees your arm from it and then pulls you into his chest, and rubs your back. You step out of the car and wrap your arms around his waist as tight as you can, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you. You both stay there for a moment, as you cry against his chest.

“You’re upset. Why don’t you come stay at my place for the weekend and have a little break from TK?” Nolan mumbles into your hair, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. You push back from him, and look into his eyes. You were going to yell at him, tell him this was only going to make things worse, but maybe he was right. Some time away from TK and Karly would be good. “What do I tell him?”

Nolan shrugs, “That you’re staying at a friend’s place?”

“Okay.” You sigh, and Nolan smiles at you. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it still makes you feel a bit better. Nolan let’s go of you and opens his passenger door motioning for you to get in. You do, and he closes it gently. He closes and locks your car as well before hopping in the driver’s seat.

You decide to text TK.

Y/N: I’m going to be staying at a friend’s place for the weekend. See you Monday?

TK: Sure! Everything okay?

Y/N: Yeah! Don’t have too much fun with the apartment all to yourself 😛

“It’s going to be alright you know? You’re not holding me back from anything.” Nolan speaks leaning over and giving your knee a reassuring squeeze. And maybe, it will be.

________________

You had spent the rest of the afternoon with Nolan between your legs. Nothing you hadn’t done before, but there was so much more emotion behind it, that it scared you.

As you laid in Nolan’s bed after your afternoon activities, his hand ran gently up and down your back. Tracing patterns across his chest, you let out a content sigh. You opened your mouth to tell Nolan how you felt, to ask him what this was to him, but before the words could even form on your tongue a knock on the front door caused both you and Nolan to jump up.

“Shit.” Nolan grumbled pulling a pair of shorts on, “I’ll be right back.” You frowned in response and got out of bed pulling on a pair of Nolan’s shorts and one of his hoodies. Little did you know, that just down the hall your worst nightmare was unfolding.

“Travis! What are you doing here?” Nolan said just loud enough for you to hear, and your body froze in fear.

“Hey Patty have you heard from Y/n at all? I’m a little worried about her. Wait a second is your girlfriend here!?” You could hear the excitement in Travis’s voice, when he realized he might finally get to meet the mystery lady.

“Um- yeah, now isn’t really the best time TK.” Nolan mumbled and you can practically hear his cheeks heating up, from your spot in the hallway just out of view. Your hands were shaking as you lean against the wall, trying to control your breathing.

“Oh shit! Did I interrupt something?! Dude you shoulda just told me! I’ll just call Y/n if you haven’t heard from her.” At that your heart stops. Where is your phone? You set it down when you got there.

“Okay, see you later TK!” Nolan basically shouts, trying to close the door you assume. Relief begins to wash over you, and you feel like you can breath again.

However, the relief leaves just as fast as it came, when you hear your phone ringing. Stomach dropping, as the memory of setting your phone on the table by the front door comes to mind.

“Nolan.. why the hell is Y/n’s phone in your apartment?” You can hear the anger in your brother’s voice. “Teeks I can explain” Nolan’s voice is weak, and your heart breaks a little despite its rapid beating in your chest.

“Great idea Patty! Please explain to me why you didn’t bother telling me my sister was your secret girlfriend!” He’s fuming and you don’t know if you should rush to Nolan’s aid or climb out the fire escape. “She’s not actually my girlfriend...”

Ouch.

“Okay so you’re telling me you’re just fucking my baby sister!? I’m going to fucking kill you”

“Travis stop!” You surprise yourself as your running to put yourself between the two best friends. “Please don’t.” You whimper the last part. Tears streaming down your cheeks, as you use your arms to push him back trying to keep the distance between him and Nolan.

“I told you she was off limits! I told the whole damn team that they weren’t allowed to mess with her. So what? You just thought you’d fuck your best friend’s sister like some cheap whore when you could have any girl in Philly!?” Your face twists at that. You know that Travis didn’t say it to hurt you, but you couldn’t help feeling sting of hurt mixed with jealousy you wish you didn’t feel.

“I-it’s not like that” Nolan mumbles out. Your heart crumbles at his limited response. “Travis, take me home.” You plead, trying not to let more tears fall.

“Y/n- don’t-“ Nolan reaches out for you, but Travis shoves him. Hard.

“Travis! Please!” With that, you lose it. Hands shaking, sobs escaping you relentlessly, and you can’t catch your breath. Both guys stop, eyes snapping to you. Travis wraps his arms around you, affectively keeping you upright.

You don’t hear anything else, or see anything else. Everything stops.

_____________

Your eyes flutter open, and you’re met with a white ceiling. Head aching nearly as much as your chest and you groan. “Y/n/n! You’re awake!” It’s Karly’s voice that startles you, “are you okay?”

You don’t know where you are, or what happened really, but you can only manage to ask two questions. “Where is Travis? Is Nolan okay?”

“Y/n-“ you can hear the pity in her voice. “Oh god!” You start crying again, “this is all my fault!”

Karly speaks softly to you, telling you everything is fine. Telling you Travis is coming, and that Nolan will be fine. You hardly listen. You just allow yourself to cry until you fall asleep.

___________

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. You knew it was wrong, and I told you it would be fine. I’m such an idiot.” You listened to his voice as he mumbled, hand gripping yours as tight as he could without hurting you. Keeping your eyes closed, you fight back the tears. It hurt so bad, everything hurt. You couldn’t face him, you were embarrassed, and heartbroken. “Nolan, I think you should go.” Travis’ voice makes you wince inwardly.

“Teeks, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt her, or you. Tell me she’s gonna be okay.” Nolan’s voice breaks and he lets go of your hand.

“The doctor said she is okay, she needs some rest. She is just stressed Nolan.” Travis sounds just as defeated as Nolan’s, “I’ll text you if anything changes I promise.” You could hear Nolan get up and leave, and honestly, your heart went with him. When the realization hit you, you’re shooting up in the bed eyes wide gasping for breath.

“Y/n/n-“ Travis starts, as he rushes to your side.

“I- I’m sorry Travis. I’m so sorry! God I’m so so stupid.” You start rambling, chest heaving, breathing shallow.

“Slow down! Just relax please, you’re okay. It’s okay.” Travis is squeezing your hand now, concern for you evident in his features.

“I ruined everything. He’s your best friend, and I ruined it...”

“Nolan and I will be fine. This is between him and I, not you. Don’t blame yourself ple-“

“I love him!” Your sudden outburst shocks you just as much as it shocks Travis. The silence that follows is deafening. You try to think of something to say, anything to make this less awkward. Before you or Travis can speak though, someone at the door clears their throat. Your eyes snap to the source, and your stomach drops to the floor.

“I- uh I left my keys” Nolan mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck. His cheeks are red, and his left eye is purple and swollen. Travis sighs and mumbles something about giving you a minute, before he gets up and leaves the room. Not without bumping a little to hard into Nolan’s shoulder. More awkward silence follows, and this time you manage to find words first. “Jesus Nols your eye, are you okay?”

“It’s nothing.” He mumbles.

“It’s not though! I’m sorry, about all of it. I shouldn’t have gone home with you, I shouldn’t have called you, I shouldn’t have kept it from TK, and I shouldn’t have said that I lo-“ you stop unable to say it again, “Well you heard. You didn’t need this drama.”

“So you regret it?” His entire body tenses.

“You don’t?” You laugh out humourlessly

“Lying to my best friend? Yes. Taking you home? Being the person you call when you’re upset? Falling in love with you? I’ll never regret any of that. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’ll leave you alone now.” He says the last line with so much hurt it kills you. He snatches his keys off the table by your bed and turns to leave, but you grab his wrist. “You don’t mean that. You don’t get to say that and leave me.”

“What do you want me to do?” He raises his voice. You’ve never seen him like this. “I can’t stay. You wanted to leave my place last night. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“I didn’t want to leave Nolan I wanted you to fight for me, for us! I wanted to hear you tell my brother that you wanted me as much as I wanted you. I know you don’t though, and that’s alright. But you do not get to say you fell in love with me, and walk out of here like nothing happened. You don’t get to fuck with me like that!” Tears fall slowly down your face, and you let them. Sure you probably looked like a hot mess, but you didn’t care anymore.

“I thought this was just sex for you. I didn’t think you wanted anything more than a distraction from your brother’s life. I tried to get you to stay with me that first morning. I tried to show you how much I wanted you in my life yesterday. Y/n I drove like a bat out of hell from the rink to pick you up because you were hurting. I was at the rink talking to Giroux, trying to figure out how the hell I was supposed to ask Travis for his permission to date you. Actually date you. I’m in love with your stubbornness. I’m in love with your aversion to being called baby Konecny. I’m in love with how you look in my jersey even though you refuse to wear it because ‘why wear mine when you could wear one with your last name’. I’m in love with your laugh and your smile. I’m head over heels for you baby, and I can’t stay here. I can’t stand seeing you in that bed knowing it’s my fault you’re even there, knowing that when you leave you’re going home with Travis and not with me. I can’t stand around and watch you hurting, only to make it last longer. I’m sorry.” His whole body seems to deflate as he adjusts the keys in his hand.

“Nolan I didnt know.”

“Yeah well...” he mumbles, and refuses to look at you. With that you let go of his hand and he’s gone.

________________

“Well Miss Konecny you should be good to go. Just take it easy for the next couple weeks alright?” You were hardly listening to the doctor, but really he was more talking to Travis than you. After signing discharge papers, Travis helped you out to his car. He stops opens your door for you, and you mumble a thank you. You’re so caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t

“Trav?” You say, after awhile of driving. “Yeah?” He asks, taking another turn you’re sure is just taking you away from your shared apartment. “Where are we going?”

Pulling over and parking the car, Travis looks over at you guilt written all over his face. You look out the window, taking in your surroundings for a moment before it clicks. You’re in front of Nolan’s building. “Travis please no...”

“Y/n/n listen. I’ve never in my life heard Nolan talk about anything too real. When he left the hospital, he stopped me in the hallway. He apologized for hurting me, and you. But you know what else he told me? He told me he wouldn’t take it back. He said that if his options were to have you for those few months again or to take it all back and have it never happen he’d hurt me again. He told me he loved you, and that he still does. He said he’s not sorry for loving you, but he’s sorry he didn’t do it right. Then I called Claude. He told me about Nolan just about in tears trying to figure out how to make it work without hurting his friendship with me, but mostly about preserving our relationship. He was worried about what would happen between me and you. He is so into you, and obviously you are into him. So into him, and so worried about it you landed yourself in the hospital. I was the issue here, so now I’m going to fix it.” He pats your knee soothingly. “Please let me.” You can only nod, and pull yourself out of Travis’ car. He drapes an arm over your shoulder and pulls you into his side.

“You hit him didn’t you?” You ask quietly in the elevator ride up to Nolan’s floor. “I did. I thought he was using you. I was so upset. He didn’t fight back, he wouldn’t even defend himself. I’m such an asshat.” He admits

You nod in response, and hug him as tight as you can. “That’s my big brother, the asshat. Thank you for always looking out for me, but you really shouldn’t have hit him.” He whispers an apology into your hair as the elevator doors open. “Now let’s go get your man! Ew no, I’m not calling him that ever again.”

You laugh at that. Travis smiles at you as he knocks on Nolan’s door. You wait patiently, but nothing happens. The door never opens. Travis knocks again. Nothing. Your heart feels like it’s breaking all over again. Travis continues knocking. He even tries calling Nolan. Nothing.

You reach out and grab his wrist to stop his assault on Nolan’s door. “Trav. It’s over, it’s okay. He doesn’t want this.” Before he can say anything, his phone rings. Both of your eyes snapping to it hopefully. You deflate as you see Karlys name flashing across his screen. You sigh and slide down the wall beside Nolan’s door, as Travis answers.

“Hey babe. Well I decided to take Y/n to Nolan’s apartment to try and fix this, but he is refusing to answer his door or his phone.” You groan a little dropping your face into your hands. You feel pathetic. “Are you kidding me right now!” Travis’ last line comes out much louder than the others, and you jump a little. Looking up at him you see an expression you can’t quite read. “Stay there! We are on our way!”

You’re pretty sure he doesn’t even wait for Karlys response before hanging up. “Trav? What’s wrong? Is Karly okay?”

“Karly is fine, but we have to go.” With that he’s grabbing your hands and pulling you off the floor and out of the building. Foregoing the elevator, and instead rushing down the stairs like a mad man.

“Travis what is going on!” You’re frustrated and he’s not responding to any of your questions, as he jumps into his car. You follow suit, grumbling under your breath. The drive isn’t that long, and you spend most of it wondering why Nolan wouldn’t answer the door. How were you supposed to go on seeing him all the time again? He wants nothing to do with you right?

Your mind is still spinning when Travis pulls into his parking spot. Karly is already waiting outside.

“Listen Y/n/n, you’re going to be okay. If things with Nolan were meant to be they will be. Karly and I have to go, but we will be back later okay? Call me if you need anything.” Travis’ voice is soft, but hurried as he leans over and opens your door for you. The confusion is clear on your face as you get out of the passenger seat. Karly sends you a quick apology before sliding into your spot.

And then they were gone. Before you could even ask where they were going, they were gone. You’d never felt more alone in your entire life. The one person you wanted to see wants nothing to do with you, and your support system just up and left you.

As you make your way slowly up the stairs to the apartment, tears fall for what feels like the millionth time in the last 48 hours. Your heart was so unbelievably broken, and you couldn’t even starts to think about how to put it back together. As you finally made it to the door, you unlock it and let yourself in. As you close it, you fall back against it small sobs escaping you into the quiet apartment.

“Y/n?” Your eyes snap up, heart beating a million miles an hour.

“Nolan? What are you doing here?” There he was standing in front of you, dressed up and holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“Well- I uh came to apologize. I’ve been here since Travis text me to say you were leaving the hospital. What took you guys so long?” He chuckles nervously, but makes no effort to move closer.

“We went to your apartment. Nolan I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. God I was so stupid, I don’t know how to make this better.” You’re shaking now, overwhelmed by emotion.

Nolan sees you struggling, and quickly closes the distance between you both. Dropping the flowers along the way his hands find your hips to hold you up. “The past is in the past babe. We can’t change it.” You deflate at his words, fresh tears springing to your eyes.

“But,” he adds, placing a finger under your chin lifting it up so you’re looking at him. “We can start again, and do it the right way. I don’t wanna hide you.” His eyes slip from yours to your lips. Your heart skips a beat, as he leans into you pressing his lips to yours in a kiss like none you’ve shared before. This kiss is not driven by lust, it’s all love. It’s slow and steady, as he pulls you closer to him. You stay like that awhile, both to afraid to stop. Nolan pulls away first though, so you can both catch your breath.

You smile up at him, reaching up to gently touch the stitches above his left eye. You frown a little, as he flinches but doesn’t stop you. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Nolan mumbles, cheeks heating slightly.

“Really? Because I was just about to say it looks kinda hot.” You smirk up at him.

His fingers flex on your hips, eyes going a little darker. “You’re gonna be the death of me Konecny.” His voice is deep and it sets your whole body on fire.

“Stop talking and kiss me already Nols” With that Nolan’s lips are on yours, and his hands are on your thighs lifting you off the ground with ease. You wrap your legs around his waist as you pins you to the wall. A moan escapes your lips as your hands find his hair, tugging it lightly. The kiss grows needier by the second, and you’re getting impatient. As you push your hips into his to get some friction, Nolan pulls away.

“We should slow down.” Nolan sighs, as he sets you back down. “Why?” You pout, gripping his shirt and trying to pull him back into you.

“Because, I want to do this the right way. Let me take you out first before I fuck you in your brothers apartment” he chuckles.

“We’ve had sex before Nolan. Besides,” you say, running your hands up his torso to the back of his neck. Tugging on the hair a little before you continue. “Wouldn’t fucking his baby sister all over his apartment be a great way to get pay back after he punched you in the face.”

“Y/n. I’d rather not have my best friend kill me before I even get a chance to show you off. He could walk through that door at any second.” Nolan groans glancing over your shoulder to the door.

“You’re right he could.” You smirk as you start kissing his neck.

“Babe-“ he warns, but it lacks sincerity and you take that as a win. “Can it Patrick. Let me have my fun!” You wink, sliding down to your knees.

And just like that, he was at your mercy. He was a total mess above you, hands gripping your hair tightly as you took him in your mouth.

The fact Karly and Travis could walk through the door at any moment to see the two of you. Nolan with his head thrown back, pants at his ankles, and you, hands gripping his thighs tightly and tears forming in your eyes. It had your senses heightened. On edge already, your pussy clenching on nothing.

When Nolan came, his name left your lips followed by many profanities as you swallowed his cum. You smirk up at him, and trace your finger over his tattoo lazily. “Worth it?”

“Fuck, so worth it princess.” He groans pulling you to your feet attaching his lips to your neck.

Nolan pulls away after a moment and you whimper slightly at the loss. He chuckles as he pulls his pants up and you groan in response. “Sorry baby, but standing just inside the door with my pants around my ankles is not a good look.”

“I liked it” you pout, “your legs are nice.”

“Oh yeah?” He quirks an eyebrow at you, a smug grin growing on his face. You nod, cheeks heating up slightly. “Especially your thighs.” You wink.

Nolan throws his head back and laughs pulling you into his chest. “You’re amazing you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” You wink up at him. His grip tightens on your waist, and his smile grows impossibly wider. Your heartbeat quickens as tears spring to your eyes, and you do everything in your power to hold them back as you press your forehead against Nolan’s chest.

Everything feels so perfect in that moment. You’re not Travis’ sister. Not baby Konecny. Nolan isn’t Travis’ best friend. Not the Nolan Patrick. He is yours, and you’re his. The only think that matters now is how at home you feel standing awkwardly in the hallway embracing each other, with no intentions of letting go.

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 15

18+ only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Because sometimes all you need is a simple reminder of who started this mess in the first damn place 💜

Warnings : as always 18+ only please- dom Zemo, sub Bucky, sub reader, punishment, m/m, m/m/f, light bondage

Authors Notes: Really didn't think I would be posting this weekend but it's a holiday in the states so why not! Still working on the rest by you know, neglecting everything that matters to create this fictional world. Anyhow, I can honestly say this is by far the most graphic story I've written so I'm a little nervous but it's already done, can't change it now, and I honestly don't want to! That said I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

~

Nothing lasts forever, especially when it’s this good. And this fabricated reality is about as good as it gets. Still, you know this boat will dock soon and goodbyes will be said. There’s really no way around it, try as you might to come up with a plan to talk Bucky into staying. Even now as you fight to stay asleep, your brain is working hard to create a solution while you refuse to give into your worries so early in the day.

You turn onto your stomach ignoring the dark thoughts, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of a strong arm across your back and a leg, hairy and heavy over both of yours.

Settling again with a content sigh, sleep starts to pull you back under. Thank the stars. You really aren’t in the mood— even if your dreams apparently are.

And what had you been dreaming about anyway?

A little house on a wide cliff overlooking water, and something else? The harder you try to remember the more you feel yourself slipping back into that dream space.

There was a small animal. What was it? A rabbit? Its fluffy body too close to the edge of the cliff. But in the dream you’d stayed standing in the doorway of the little house too indifferent to go and save it….

You feel bodies moving lazily, a stream of breath along your back that tickles; arms and legs and the men they belong to not fully awake and starting to stir like you, even as you quickly slip back into sleep until you’re standing in the doorway of that house again with the warm winds on your face and a view of the French sea below. The drop is dangerous. Deadly even.

Why haven’t you started talking Bucky into staying yet? Because you don’t like thinking about it too much. That's why. You start walking towards the edge of the cliff and you’re fully aware of your worlds crossing over —real thoughts present in your dream.

It’s probably bad luck to resent good deeds, after all that’s what he’s leaving you for. He wants to go off and live the life of the hero he never got to be. That and to keep Zemo’s location safe; but that’s besides the point. Hmm… Look at me, selfish even in my dreams. You smile when you shouldn’t.

Staring over the edge of the cliff it’s suddenly clear how unstable the ground is here and you gasp as it crumbles beneath your feet without warning.

Your eyes open with a start.

Well, that was a bit on the nose. Your subconscious does like to lay it on a thick sometimes, especially when you continue to ignore the things bothering you for too long and you've been setting these feelings aside since the text came through.

But just as quickly as you’re left to shake the shadow of the eerie dream, your frown fades replaced by a slow smile.

There is a very familiar poking at your ass that can sometimes be annoying-- this morning it’s welcome. You reach back and feel for the body that the greeting belongs too, comforted by the warmth and solid muscle of Bucky’s thigh under his tight boxers.

Mmmmm, the source of my distress and my desire, you think and grin into the pillows with a soft moan when his hand, hot and strong takes hold of your hip, massaging as he presses his erection into you.

You’ll talk to him about your dreams later.

Feeling a draft where there should be warmth, you open an eye to find breaks of sunlight in the space between Helmut’s arm and torso. When you turn your head you’re met with the sight of his bare chest, broad and covered in the softest dark hair. His necklace hangs off center, and you, as always, are helpless to it.

Your hand leaves Bucky’s thigh and your fingers slide over the delicate links in the chain and down into the soft chest hair as you turn your head to find he and Bucky locked in one hell of a kiss for so early in the day. It must have been their movement or the sound of their lips that woke you and pulled you from the doom of your fatal fall.

Dreams are so strange…

Your heart flutters when Helmut lays his hand over yours pressing it tight to his chest. “Good morning love birds.” You snicker and watch Bucky pull away from Zemo looking a little embarrassed. He does pause to kiss your cheek however before getting out of bed with a long stretch.

“So where the hell are we anyway?” He asks going to the balcony door, looking out at the passing waves. “Feels like nowhere.”

Zemo is looking down at you, stroking your profile, kissing your nose. “We should be well within the middle of it actually.” He answers, eyes still fixed on you.

“Perfect” You say softly letting him pull you so close that he blocks out the light as your lips meet.

“Breakfast is ready sir,” Oeznik calls from outside the bedroom door.

Zemo grumbles at the interruption but you’re starving. “What? I’m not going anywhere” You huff turning away, trying to escape. “You just said so yourself. I've got no place to go.”

“All by design” He smiles and lets you get up, giving your ass a smack as you go. Bucky is watching from the doorway and laughs at your yelp-hop-rub combination.

Swearing under your breath you go over to the closet, grab your silk robe and pull it on over your shorts and tank top, yawning as you drag your feet over to Bucky. You pat his stomach, kissing him quickly. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Lets go up.” You say tugging at him as Zemo gets up and puts on his own robe across the room. It’s not the thick one you liked from before the raft, but silk like yours— Tom Ford if memory serves— god his influence is strong. How the hell do you remember this stuff?

You watch him scratch at the back of his messy nest of hair like he always does in the mornings, somehow looking both sexy and adorable, alternating between the two with the ease of flicking a light switch. You can only smile at the enigma that is Helmut Zemo and pull Bucky away from the doors.

The three of you leave the room shuffling along, making your way down the hall to the den. Zemo trails you and Bucky accepting a small espresso from Oeznik as he watches the way you and your Sergeant interact. Neither you nor Bucky are necessarily morning people and though it’s nearly ten, you’re both somewhat irritable now that you’re actually moving around and slightly hungover from yesterdays sangrias as you make your way up to the top deck where breakfast will be served.

The sun is so bright you huff about not being able to find your sunglasses and Bucky accuses you of being a diva. The only appropriate reaction is to give him a shove.

Zemo snorts a laugh at your near sibling like banter which you’d established after so many months together, but once you find your glasses on the bar counter and get a fresh cup of coffee and a bloody Mary chaser in your body you’re feeling like a new woman ready to conquer the day… a day spent doing nothing really.

It’s all so casually decadent that it’s nearly sinful. Whats the one? The sin that doesn’t sound as good as lust but feels better after all that fornicating you’ve been doing— Sloth? Yes, you think reaching for what’s left of your blood Mary from the lounge chair, the ultimate of all the sins. Thou shalt not be a lazy ass sloth all day on your yacht.

Cheers.

You read on the deck for a while, play a few rounds of shuffle board with Bucky by the pool and attempt to best Zemo at chess in the den.

Lunch is wonderful, and you think you will need to meet this mystery chef at some point before the trip is over followed by a nap on the bedroom balcony.

When you wake up in the very late afternoon you venture down the hall with your book and unexpectedly find the men in your life moaning on the floor of the den in a tangle of beautifully tanned arms and legs. So you very quietly slip past, feeling a flush rise up your neck to your cheeks highlighting your wide but tight lipped smile.

You stay above decks giving them privacy feeling only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Not because you think you’ve been excluded but because you could use another session like last night.

A shiver runs deep in your belly thinking of the way Helmut brought you to climax, but you’re still more than happy to give them time alone. After all, you’ve had the Baron to yourself for far longer than Bucky.

You sink down onto the upper deck sofa, the image of them entwined, the sounds of their heavy breathing and Bucky’s near innocent moans enough to make you consider touching yourself but you wait, letting the urge build, one of them if not both will take care of you later.

So when Bucky comes up and finds you with a funny look on his face you’re completely confused. “Whats wrong?” You ask putting your book down.

He’s poured a drink and sits down beside you on the couch.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” He says shaking his head tossing back the bourbon.

“Do what?” You have an idea but you thought for sure he’d be eager to try, at least it looked like they were well on their way to his first time.

“Letting him control me, I’ve never had someone tell me no. Not like this.”

“Oh” You smile. It’s the no sex. The lack of it is a cruel form of control but the end results are glorious, if he could just be patient enough. “He won’t let you come?” You ask a little more patronizing than you’d intended.

“No!” Bucky whines taking his cue from you and you stifle your laughter. He’s so cute, even in the throws of his sexual agony. “And it’s making me crazy. I mean I’m already crazy but this is different.” He looks around and leans closer to you. “If you were to so much as look at my cock right now, I’d be done.” He says under his breath.

You let go and laugh rolling your eyes. Dramatics seem to come as naturally as submission to him. “That’s against the rules.” You warn eyeing him sidelong and attempting to go back to your book.

“I can’t take it. Fuck the rules.” He says again pulling the paperback from your hand.

You wave your finger in his face. “James. You’re not allowed.” You say playfully.

“Please.” He begs running his finger down your cheek, brushing your neck and gliding along your clavicle where he knows you’re sensitive.

“I can’t!” You lean away a little surprised by his attempt.

“He won’t know!”

You shake your head “I know but…” You try not to smile.

“I can’t take it.” He insists leaning in to kiss you. “I promise; it won’t take long.”

You give in and laugh sensing his desperation as you kiss. He does feel tense. The muscles of his arm and shoulder are wound tight as a chord. You smile against his lips letting him ease you down onto the couch, your book dropping to the floor as he moans, sliding his hand down your thigh, pushing your knee up and his own hips forward letting you feel what you’re fairly certain is the most rock solid hard on you’ve ever had pressed to your body. You whisper his name as his lips find their way to your neck and his hand slides between you to free himself from those amazing shorts.

“Shame, I had every intention of making your patience worth the effort. But you do love to prolong your torment, don’t you soldat.”

You gasp and Bucky hangs his head as Zemo comes sauntering over. Your laughter is a mix of nerves and feeling like you’ve been caught sneaking around with a boy like a damn teenager. It’s been years since you’ve felt a rush like this. Leave it to the Baron to stir that old excitement again.

“Don’t move” Zemo orders, pointing a finger in your face. You freeze, legs open where Bucky was, your arms tight at your sides. “Sit” He growls at Bucky who obeys begrudgingly as he slides back onto the couch.

Very quickly Zemo shoves your legs closed and grabs you by the arm pulling you up to standing. You lean away as he shakes his head keeping you close, his hold so tight you wince “I thought you knew better by now” He scolds you sounding disappointed.

“I told him not too?” You try looking as innocent as possible. You truly had no intentions of fucking him, but maybe a quick hand job?

There is a flicker of excitement in Zemo’s eyes. It's been so long since you’ve given him a reason to really go for it and you hold in your smile because you’re meant to be sad and hang your head. “I’m sorry Baron.”

He ignores your attempts to apologize and pulls you over so that you’re standing in front of Bucky. He looks you both over for a moment thinking and then smiles. You don’t know if you love or hate to see him looking so pleased. Nothing “good” ever comes of that smile.

“Look James.” He says, waiting until Bucky raises his head. “I want you to see what listening to your eager cock and not my rules get gets you— and her.” He tells Bucky before giving you his undivided attention.

Zemo turns your back to Bucky and you feel his hand between your shoulder blades pushing just a little. You bend at the waist, not all the way, just enough to make sure Bucky knows where his attention should be.

This flouncy little designer sun dress you’ve changed into after your nap only helps direct his gaze as Zemo drags the fabric up slowly so that the reveal of your ass is yet another way to torment him all on its own and you give yourself over to the Baron and wonder how bad this will be.

“Pull them down.” He tells you, his hand smoothing over your simple lace panties. His voice is not so angry as it was when he found the two of you, but every bit as firm, and you glance up at him as you hook your thumbs into the waist band. He nods and you quickly obey, pulling your underwear over the curve of your hips and ass and swear you hear Bucky groan when you bend to pull them from your ankles letting him see the diamond shape of your pussy from behind for just a second, your smile hidden from view.

When you stand again, Zemo offers his forearm. You rest your stomach against him, your hand gripping his shirt, the other you will have to try very hard not to cover your backside with because you know that the breeze will be the last nice thing that you feel.

He tosses your dress back up holding you, adjusting the way he stands just a little so that you are safe but immobile.

“Count them off; to five.” He says leaning just a bit closer. The tone in his voice is confident. Zemo knows that you’re well aware of what this means.

“Yes Baron.” You say exhaling, trying to prepare, but five? Fuck. He does not intend on holding back. If he was being playful he would give you ten or more, but five? He knows you won’t be able to take more that that.

You dig your fingers into his forearm and hold your breath.

The first strike makes you cry out.

The way Zemo can raise his hand and bring it down on your ass is unrivaled. He doesn’t mess around. There is no teasing, no playing, no cute little taps to warm you up. Just instant punishment.

“One.”

Your voice shakes and the rousing heat of adrenaline spreads through your arms and legs.

Again he lifts his hand and brings it down quickly with a stinging force that sends shock waves through your body. Your cry is weaker this time, trailing longer.

“Two.”

You pull his shirt tighter into your fist, your cheeks are on fire already when you feel the air stir as his hand rises again. You wonder if Bucky is watching, you wonder if he see’s how your thighs flex and your flesh shakes when the Baron strikes you.

You close your eyes and draw in your bottom lip trying not to moan, but you arch your back and your hips begin to circle ever so slightly with the anticipation of the next smack. You’re practically whimpering as you offer up your backside for more.

Zemo can feel the light vibration of pleasure sounding in your chest and his laughter is a low, very amused rumble as he raises his hand just a little higher this time.

The next smack lands and you toss your head back with a gasp. You would have gone to your knees if he wasn’t strong enough to hold you up. “Three” You whisper but you don’t move. The air brushes your pussy, wet in spite of your reddening skin.

“Don’t look away.” Zemo says.

There is the answer to your previous question. Bucky likes it, but it’s not always easy for him to watch.

“James!” Zemo snaps and waits. Bucky must be looking again because you feel the Baron move.

The fourth strike comes and you steady yourself knowing you can take it, wanting it, loving it as much as your feel your legs shaking. “Four”

You’re breathing hard, as you anticipate the final blow, desperate for it to be over but sorry for it to end. You rest against him for just a second feeling both safe in his hold and powerless to his dominance.

When the last of your punishment lands you hang your head, rounding your spine unable to offer yourself anymore. You can not pretend and this is why he’s given you so few.

Letting your hips drop as your body shudders and a single tear falls, you whisper, “Five” And only Helmut hears you say it.

Very gently he pulls your dress down, the soft cotton is cool over your burning skin and he turns you around to face him.

He brushes the tear from your cheek, holding you in such a way that you can go limp in his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you’re just out of practice.” He says smiling at you knowing it wasn’t kind either.

You’d love for him to know just once. Maybe let Bucky give him a slap across the ass to make it fair. But when you look at him the thought is all wrong if not hilarious and you just shrug a little and hang your head again, resting on his chest.

“No breaking rules.” He scolds affectionately, “Even if you’re only trying to help. Understood?”

“Yes Baron.” Your voice is very small.

He gives a nod, kisses your forehead and looks over his shoulder at James. “So, is this what you wanted?”

“No.”

“No… no I don’t think it is.” He agrees. “But I understand. She’s damn near impossible to resist still you must learn to control yourself. Apparently I’ve not made that clear. Perhaps a more direct approach.”

You both look at him wide eyed. What’s more direct than this you think not even close to recovered from your spanking.

“Both of you, go down to our bedroom.” He says as though nothing has ever been more obvious “Take off your clothes. Wait for me on the bed.”

You look at Bucky. He looks at you.

“You fucked up,” You mouth to him.

Bucky just gets up and pushes past you both.

*

“I suppose you could say I’ve had to get creative with my plans for you. I know that pain is something you can’t respond to in ways that she can.” Zemo says, smiling as he glances down at Bucky and then over his shoulder at you on your knees behind him. “Have you finished?”

You look up from what you’re doing, hoping it’s right. “Yes, I think so?”

He comes around to look at the rope binding Bucky’s wrists. It’s just for show to heighten the experience. Of course Bucky could break free if he wanted to— his strength is no match for a few rough fibers— but this is a training of the mind as well as the body. “You see, pleasure can be just as awful.” Zemo says, his voice making you shiver as he checks your work, tugging and tightening the rope a little more.

Leaning in close, he strokes Bucky’s jaw, his finger reaching to trace the spine of his ear and you smile when the hairs on Bucky’s right arm raise and Zemo loses the air of control for a second simply becoming the man who cares for the other deeply. “The irony of tying you to a chair to satisfy you is not lost on me, based on what I know of your past. But if you can endure it, I promise it will be nothing like the pain you’ve known. I could never hurt you in that way. Still, if at any time this is too much, if it triggers memories that change it from what it’s meant to be, please— James— say the word, your word and it stops.”

Bucky nods. “I will” He says softly.

“Nothing now?” Zemo asks genuinely wanting to know. Bucky shakes his head. “No, nothing.”

Zemo gives a confident nod and kisses the back of Bucky’s head patting his cheek a little harder than he needs too. “I only want to make you feel good— eventually.” He teases and Bucky rolls his eyes with a small laugh.

Pleased, Zemo pushes up and goes to sit in the soft chair across the room, notably more comfortable than the one Bucky has been placed in. Although the more obvious differences being, Zemo is not bound, Zemo is not naked, and Zemo has not been so gently stroked and toyed with that he’s been left with a perfectly vulnerable erection like Bucky has.

You’d had a hard time focusing on the ropes as the Baron made it happen. The way he’d taken Bucky in hand, winding down the length of his sex was in a word, mesmerizing. And when Bucky made that sound, that soft, pleading sound and Zemo stopped — his brow raised with such smug confidence— you wondered who would break first, you or Bucky. He’d quickly brought his hand up with one last tease, his fingers swirling around the curving head of Bucky’s member only to let go as though he’d lost interest.

Bucky’s groan was deep. He was beyond frustrated, but instead of breaking out of his restrains and fucking one of the two of you, he sat there just waiting to be punished for breaking rules in the first place.

He watches as you come and kneel before him, naked yourself as you’ve been told to be. He actually looks slightly scared but mostly curious. His erection is as always flawlessly pretty, arching up and back, smooth while perfectly veined and so inciting.

You only know what it is you’re meant to do to him because you’ve had it done to you before. You figure it’s very similar, only the mechanics are different because his is a man. If Zemo doesn’t approve, he’ll tell you.

The Baron in charge picks up his drink, the ice rattling as he takes a sip and lets the scene settle in his sights for a moment. He likes to see the two of you together, his two helpless things— his to play with and his to love.

“Begin.”

Bucky inhales, but you smile at him to show that it won’t hurt— it’ll just drive him mad.

First you take the little bottle of body oil from the floor and put some in your hands rubbing them together.

He raises his brow watching you and starts to relax thinking he might understand now. You take him in hand and start to stroke, you are after all very good at this. Over and over again, up and down his long, thick shaft, curving your hand over the head of his cock until he moans and rolls his eyes shut. When he opens them he does seem a bit confused by this sudden attention and he flashes a smile because it feels so good. If this is all that’s been planned, he could get used to this sort of punishment.

The room is quiet, there’s nothing but the soft hum of the ship, his breathing and the wonderfully obscene sound of the oil you’re using against his skin as you work faster…

It’s not long before you feel him stiffen and his breath grows quicker, his thighs flex, his hips raise an inch and he starts to moan softly, a staccato sound of pleasure that makes even your heart beat faster. He’s been waiting and suffering through so much you can feel the joy of release seeping into every inch of his body.

“You feel it happening?” Zemo asks softly. “The start, the pressure mounting? You see, she is very good. And she will get you there James, every time— right to the edge”

You yank your hand away and he jerks forward mouth open cock twitching with the start of an orgasm he will not have.

“To the edge” Zemo chuckles. “A cruel punishment for a greedy man who must learn to wait.”

Bucky quickly lifts his head, the realization flashing in his eyes as his chest rises and falls. He looks down at you.

You smile and reach for him again.

*

“Please” He begs breathless.

“Not yet” Zemo says leaning forward a bit in his seat, the drink in his hand all but forgotten. You notice the ice has long since melted as you wait for permission, watching over your shoulder.

He gives you a nod and you turn back to Bucky.

Wrapping your hand around him again, you feel him so solid he’s like stone. His thighs are flexed, his hips raise up in the chair as you begin to jerk your hand up and down and the light reflecting off the oil makes you both shine like gold.

He moans and you watch the muscles of his abs flex as he feels the orgasm coming on, helpless to it and your skilled hand.

“I’m going to come.” He groans sounding sorry for and drops his hips.

“No, you won’t. I did not say that you can” Zemo says like the villain behind you.

“I can’t it hold back” Bucky pants, his voice is thin he sounds like he very well might lose control and you feel him pulse in your palm. You twist your hand around sliding it down to the base thinking it might help hold him off if your focus is less near the collection of nerve endings.

Zemo stands and comes to you, tapping your shoulder. You let him go with a quick up and down and Bucky’s disappointment is the saddest thing you’ve ever heard.

When Zemo looks down at the wonderfully pitiful sight, Bucky shuts his eyes. “Yellow.” He whispers. “Please, yellow.”

“All right.” Zemo says kindly and gives his head a rub. “Rest”

“Thank you.” Bucky manages.

You stand not caring what Zemo says and kiss Bucky’s cheek.

“You okay?” You ask, your hand on his shoulder, lifting his chin to look at his face.

“Please… don’t, don’t touch me for a minute?” He asks and you give an embarrassed laugh understanding his request. You’re not exactly innocent in his torment.

“Of course I’m sorry I…” Your sentence is cut off.

Zemo has you by the back of your arms and pulls you tight against him. “You, not her.”

Bucky sighs dropping his head.

“I’m still confused. Is, this what you wanted?” He asks feigning ignorance though with you naked its clear what Zemo means.

Bucky won’t look.

“Answer me.”

“No, I mean— yes Baron.” He concedes.

You feel Zemo’s laugh along your neck. “You wouldn’t have been fast enough to finish before I found you. Well, maybe you, but not her. Tell me, how quickly can you make her come?”

“What?”

“How quickly?”

You shut your eyes as soon as you realize where this is going.

“I don’t know. I mean she always got there.” Bucky says sounding slightly self conscious.

Zemo smiles. “Two minutes. I can finish her off in just two.”

“Ha!” Bucky doesn’t believe him, who would.

Oh Bucky…

“Tell him it’s true.” Zemo leans towards you.

You nod glancing at them both. “He does this… thing.” You tell Bucky. “He works my spot and my clit at the same time and I come. Fast.” You say simply and totally helpless to it.

“It’s not always the most fun, rarely my first choice; but great when we’re in a hurry.” He shrugs and takes a knee before you even realize that he has. “Open your legs.” He says looking up at you.

Your eyes go wide, surprised to see him down and waiting with Bucky watching. Still, you part your thighs and wisely lay your hands on his shoulders knowing you won’t be able to stay upright without the support.

“This? Right James? This warm, tight, safe place? This is what you wanted?” Zemo asks, teasing Bucky with the way he slides his fingers between your velvet soft folds. You feel him turn his hand and his finger circles your entrance. He sighs and takes hold of your hip to keep you in place.

Two fingers slip inside and you hiss against the stretch, biting your lip as your head lolls to the side. You try to hold in the loudest of your noise but it’s hopeless.

The Baron starts to do his thing and you wonder if you might be able to deny him the pleasure of making you come in front of Bucky again, but just like always you end up gripping his shoulders to keep from falling as he does a perfect come hither with his two fingers as his thumb rubs with the perfect amount of pressure on your throbbing clitoris. He can’t resist and licks your peak for good measure until you hold your breath as he sucks sloppily and until you come on his hand and just as quickly as always. Your wild moaning is nearly feral but you could not care less. It makes you smile to hear him laugh softly so pleased with himself and you and your eyes shut as you pant, catching your breath.

Lowering your head, your eyes only half open, you both look over at Bucky who is glaring at the Baron.

“James.”

“Yes.”

“Stop breaking the rules.”

“Yes Baron.” He says giving in completely.

Zemo smiles and slowly pulls his fingers free from you, raising his hand just enough to show them so wet and sticky and glistening. He kisses your belly and looks up at you. “Go lie down.” He says rubbing your stomach, smoothing his hand over your soft tuft of hair. You’re still floating as you do, happy to go and rest and leave them to it.

“Would you like to come now?” You hear Zemo ask Bucky as he gets up and goes around the chair.

“Please.” Bucky whispers watching you sink down onto the bed on your side.

“I can finish you off just as quickly as I did her.”

“Yes. Please.” He begs through clenched teeth rising up again as if presenting himself to be relieved, the steady rush of blood to his lower half turning his cock a darker shade of desperate as it rises up like a tower ready to fall. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” He pants “I’m sorry I tried to fuck her. I’m sorry for breaking your rules. And I will do anything, please just… fuck. Please!”

Helmut leans down hushing him, pressing his face close to Bucky’s, grabbing him around the chest as his left hand comes reaching over his stomach promising an end to the day’s long torment.

He grips the soldiers gorgeous, endlessly taunted dick; your natural lubricant replacing the oil to help glide his fingers along.

When Zemo starts to work Bucky you can see through the look on his face that this is all he’s wanted to do for so long and you are reminded that this is as much the Baron’s discipline as it is yours— as it is Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a deep sound that gets your attention. His body flexes and you think he looks like a bomb ready to blow. A sexy, finely muscled, lightly tanned bomb with a look of pained excitement as his legs open and his jaw flexes.

“Are you mine James?” Zemo asks, his lips brushing his ear,

“Yes” He says pitifully raising his hips, thrusting once into the Baron’s hand just as Zemo lets go. A deep frown fixes between Bucky’s brows as he waits until Zemo grabs again and starts to perfectly stroke him.

Bucky’s mouth opens, his eyes fix on the incredibly hypnotic rhythm of Zemo’s hand.

“You’ve always been mine haven’t you?”

“Yes!” Bucky nearly shouts, his brows turned down with the exquisite anguish of the nearing release.

“Say it again,” Zemo demands, his right arm tight around Bucky, his eyes shut relishing in the control and the love, you listen to the wet rhythm as it gets faster.

“Yes.”

“Say it!”

“I’ve always been yours” Bucky moans loudly and glances over at you unable to keep your hand away from your pussy selfishly wanting to come again.

“Once more.” Helmut says opening his eyes. The muscle of his arm is flexed beautifully as he pounds.

Bucky moans so similarly to you that Helmut just smiles. He knows, he understands the hold he has over you both.

“I’m yours” Bucky manages and the Baron focuses his movement as if pulling the orgasm from Bucky’s body willing it to come forward. He jerks his hand up and away…but this time he’s finished the job.

He holds Bucky as the man cries out, his hips rising high this time, his cock pulsing with a tight up and down as he finally —god, finally— gives a high pitched groan with that first explosive release of come that shoots past his stomach and onto his own chest followed by equally satisfying spasms that send milky droplets flying free into the air and across his stomach onto Zemo’s arms; Bucky’s groaning and gasping near tears with the absolute exhaustion and relief of his well deserved climax, his moans and gasps of surprise so raw and unaffected.

By the time he lowers back down to the chair unable to do much more than sit there, limp and panting with his eyes closed, Helmut is holding him, caring nothing for the mess. He seems to love the sight of the pearlescent results of Bucky’s incredible orgasm as much as you do.

Smiling as he strokes Bucky’s hair, kissing his temple, he says with a tone only Helmut Zemo could manage at a moment like this, “You see. When you listen to me, I make it worth every second, every moment of torment. Yes?”

Bucky nods but it’s weak.

Zemo chuckles softly, kisses him again and reaches down easily undoing the ropes.

“Look at you both.” He says trying to sound angry, as if it’s not all his fault. “You can’t come to dinner like this. I’ll run a bath.”

He leaves Bucky and comes to the bed bending over you, his hand so sticky from the combination is heavy on your belly as he kisses your lips. “Hows your ass?” He asks.

“Still on fire.” You say and he winks as he rises.

“Good."

*

“You’re pretty quiet over there.” Bucky says splashing you from across the large tub. You’ve both been in for a while now after Zemo took a quick shower and left you alone letting you know he’d be up waiting at the dinner table.

Roused from your daydream but still not sure you want to talk about why you’re so quiet, you glance over and shrug.

“Whats wrong? You’re not mad about what happened are you?” Bucky asks sliding a little closer. The tub is surprisingly big in an already large bathroom and yet again you wonder how you’ll return to real life when this all ends.

“What happened?” You ask him.

“Getting you in trouble? He really put a shine on your backside.” Bucky says, a smile breaking through any attempt at being serious.

You sit up surprised to hear that’s what he thinks it could be. “Ha! No. Not at all. That was amazing… god” You tip your head back, the image of Bucky, naked and tired to a chair with Zemo holding him and whispering in his ear will be seared into your mind for life. “I didn’t know you could come that much.” You say, slowly looking back down at him,trying not to giggle.

“Neither did I.” He says practically blushing before he grins. “Same goes for you.” He tosses right back.

You laugh and roll your eyes. “Okay well we both know he’s capable of turning us into sex crazed idiots apparently.” You say with a cheeky grin and Bucky laughs shaking his head with a sigh.

“What is it? Some Sokovian spell or something, magic from the old world?” Bucky says with a thick accent wiggling his wet soapy fingers in the air.

Laughing you scrunch your nose. “Nah, that’s all him. Just wait until you’ve been around him long enough to get to the good stuff.”

“The good stuff!” He looks shocked “Well what the hell is all this!”

“This is amazing, but it not… well it’s not him. Theres so much more than sex. Watching tv. Eating dinner in bed. Naps— once he read to me.” You say with a sigh and the room goes silent as you both slip into a day dream laced with Helmuts beautiful voice surrounding you as he reads the classics on a warm summer night…

“You think he sits around daydreaming about us like this?” Bucky asks with a frown. “I worry sometimes.”

“Really?” You ask looking into his big blue eyes. Hundred years old and still so sweet. “Of course he does. Bucky, he wouldn’t have done any of this if he didn’t spend as much time thinking of us as we do him. Don’t be so naive”

He nods looking out the window and you know he’s just out of practice. He probably had a swarm of girls around him back when his life was normal. Maybe even a secret guy. But how long ago had that been. And since he’d been released from the words, his only real time spent with anyone has been with the two of you. For a moment you wonder if that’s fair. He should go out on dates or something, but then again you did try to get him on some apps. He hated them all. Women swiped right like it was their job of course, but he thought it was strange and wanted to meet them the old fashioned way but when he did he could only focus on what he didn’t like and just compared them to you— and Zemo.

“Hey.” You get his attention again. “I mean it, I’m really not upset about anything that happened earlier. Thanks for being such a rule breaker.” You say with a wink.

“No problem” He laughs as if that was his intention. Bucky’s expression softens as he sits back, the water rocking under the bubbles.

Bubbles. Talk about a diva, is anyone is on this big ass boat it’s him. Two adults having a bath drawn from them; why not throw in the bubbles. You roll your eyes ignoring the way your chest gets tight with the feel of being so adored and loving every second of his over the top ways and focus on Bucky who looks stunning in the bath— your heart sinking just a little.

“So what is it?” He asks unaware of your many distractions.

You look back to the window staring up at the sky for a while. “I’m just… sad.” You say giving in to the truth “I mean, I’m thrilled being here. But I’ve had this idea that I could talk you into staying with us. I keep imagining this life with you and Helmut and I know it can’t happen for so many reasons but I’m stubborn and spoiled. I truly hate not getting my way. So I keep thinking, maybe.”

He goes quiet now understanding, and then you feel his hand on your knee under the water. “I know. I’ve thought about it too. Maybe a little too much. Definitely enough that I’ve almost convinced myself it could work, but no. It just wouldn’t.”

You press your lips hesitant to say in case you might offend him but decide to just go for it. “And you’re sure it’s not just that you miss it? Saving the world and everything? I mean, I can see how it would be appealing— from controlled killer to stoic hero.” You tease gently, wiggling your brows up and down until he laughs a little, probably more annoyed than you’d like, and whatever facade you’d put on crumbles. The look of heartbreak turns your brows down, twisting your face with the agony of losing him. He looks surprised to see you so broken about it and finds your hand through the water.

“Hey hey hey.” He pulls but you’re not in the mood to be comforted. Bucky hates when you don’t let him coddle you, but he knows better than to fight it so he simply answers your question. “Yes.Well. No I mean, it’s nice. But honestly, if you really want to know, I could get used to being domesticated.” He shrugs letting go of your hand as he looks towards the shower where Zemo was and you swallow the tears that have been overpowered by your intrigue.

Managing a laugh at his expense you poke his arm on the rim of the tub. “Really? By me or Helmut?” You ask and swear you see him blush.

“You’ve already proven you can turn me into a homebody, and happy to be there, so —Maybe both?” He shrugs and there is such a tone of possibility in his statement that you’re instantly transported into a world in which the three of you are living happily. Maybe in this Mediterranean paradise, you’ve just come home from the market with ingredients for a dinner that Bucky has asked you to pick up and you help him cook while music blasts in your small but bright kitchen and you dance around until the house smells delicious and you set the table, flirting and toying with one another until everything looks beautiful before rushing to sit just as your Baron comes through the door…

Even here and now sitting in the tub with you, Bucky looks like the sweetest house husband glowing a soft gold in the light of the sun. What you wouldn’t give to be his forever. His his and hers, you think and your chin quivers with the threat of happy miserable tears.

Bucky isn’t oblivious to your hurting but he’s trying to keep strong, he can’t give in to you, not this time. “We’ll never know if I stick around.” He says and your little vision fades “I think I’ve got one visit, maybe two in me before someone notices an avenger hanging around their town and his cover is blown. You don’t want that. I don’t want that. I’d never forgive myself."

“I know.” You say and only realize that your head is down when his hand, which is covered in white bubbles reaches to lift your chin.

“Hey, come one. None of that. We’ve only got a little bit of time. I just want to make the most of it. Give me enough good memories to finally forget about whats left of the bad.”

You smile and nod, blowing the bubbles away before they go up your nose. “Fine.” You sigh and look back out the window hugging your knees. “Buck, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He says only cringing a little when you call him Buck.

“Do you think you might ever love him?”

Bucky freezes. He looks— odd. Uncomfortable. Exposed? You realize very quickly that he already does, even if he’s not aware of it and decide not to push him

“It’s okay. I was just curious.” You say and try to calm him with your smile “We come from very different worlds. Letting myself love a man like Helmut Zemo took little to no effort for me, for you— I know why it might come as a shock. But I think you’ll find, when you do admit it to yourself and to him, he might just surprise you with how quickly he says it back.”