#Have we gotten to the dry remains or is there still more to go?

[spaghetticat3899]

I think I’ve got brain rot of the highest order

[deepdisireslonging]

His And Hers Need

You instigate Jason into having his way with you after over a month apart. Quickly, he becomes more than you can handle.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings/Promises: Dick being annoying (because you told him to), Fluff, Smut, possessiveness, p in v, creampie (multiple), sorta cum-play, just smutty-smut goodness

Word Count: 2600

Note: Haven’t written a quick smutty thing for Jason in a while. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. Happy reading!

“Don’t hit me.”

Jason looked up from his book. He widened his eyes, readjusting to reality before he answered. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not that I’m adverse to the idea, but why would I do that?”

Dick gingerly sat down on the low table in front of the library couch Jason was sprawled across. “I have a confession to make.”

If his battle-brother hadn’t looked so sheepish, Jason would have laughed. Instead, he sat the book to one side and gave him his full attention. The subject of their discussion wasn’t a mystery. He’d been aware of it for a while. “You have a crush on her-”

“I have a crush on your girl.” Dick ran a hand through his hair. “Not unusual. We’ve entertained the same girl before all in the name of Wayne. But usually, I’ve gotten to her first. And now I don’t know what to do about it.”

“You’re gonna get over it.”

“How?”

“What?” Jason crossed his arms as he laid back.

“That is – how does one… get… over it? I’ve never had someone beat me to a girl before.” Dick hoped his ‘nervousness’ was covering up the deep trench of teasing he was digging. “Usually it’s been: I see her, I like her, I get her, we part ways.”

There were about ten more seconds of this conversation before steam was going to start billowing out of Jason’s ears. “That’s… enlightening. All in the name of Wayne, right?”

Suddenly Dick’s mouth was very dry. He swallowed, searching for moisture as if that would be enough to cool down the rage picking up speed in his brother’s chest. “Got- got any suggestions?”

“Mhmm. You skip to the ‘we part ways’ step and forget about her.”

“That’ll be hard since she patrols with us all the time.”

“You’ll figure it out, Detective.” With a growl simmering in the pit of his chest, Jason snatched up his book. Despite it being closed already, he opened it halfway just so he could snap it shut in front of his brother’s face. He left the room quickly.

Taking Jason’s vacated spot on the couch, Dick had to chuckle. “Hope you’re ready, Y/N. He’s headed your way.”

“Thanks, Dick. I owe you one,” you said over the coms.

“That you do. If he doesn’t take all the frustration out on you like you hoped, he’s gonna bruise me black and blue. And I don’t need any more of it to match my suit.”

“Big baby.”

***

You slipped the powered-off com out of your ear and slid into position on your bed. Absently, you flicked smooth the corner of the waterproof blanket working as your seat. The book in your hand was the same title Jason had snapped in Dick’s face a second ago. It was a way to keep connected when you’d been pulled on separate missions for the past month. But the raggedy see-through tank top and lounge short-shorts were wholly yours. There was barely enough fabric to hide what you had planned.

Even though you knew he was coming, you still jumped when Jason slammed open the door. He locked it without a word and shed his sweatshirt.

“Well hello to you too.” Some of your resolve withered away under the hunger in his eyes. You tossed the book onto the nightstand and backed deeper into the pillows. “Jay-”

“Need you.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. “I can see that. Jay, baby, what’s happened?” But he was on you too quick. Snagging your ankle, he pulled you to the center of the bed where he could stretch his whole body over you. You fought to remain attached to reality while he kissed every inch of your bared skin. “Jason. Are you okay? What’s-”

“You’re my girl. My woman. Anybody else can fuck right off.” 

You grinned into his lips as he kissed you deeply, possessively. Already your body was undulating to feel him press against you. His hair was thick and cool against your fingers as you buried them into his curls. When you gave them a gentle tug, he groaned into the underside of your jaw. “It’s not like that was ever up for debate. But-” You froze as he stopped the onslaught to hover over you.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he murmured. “But I realized I haven’t been taking care of you here of late. I’ve missed you, is all.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead with a tenderness you hadn’t shared with him in a long while.

You missed him too.

“I’m right here.”

With a sigh, he let you guide his head to rest under your chin. He laid across you. The press of his body over yours, and the calming solidity of your body under his, it initiated the reconnection of your hearts. Soon, your breathing was in sync. You would have been at risk of falling asleep, but Jason kept wriggling. The possessive throb of his manhood had not relented. And, pressed as close as he was, he was hyperaware of how many layers you weren’t wearing. Your eyelids fluttered with the light trailing of his fingers up your sides. The gentle kisses he laid on your chest and to the underside of your jaw. When his thigh slid between yours, you couldn’t resist rolling your hips.

“We don’t have to.”

“Hmm?”

Jason lazily smoothed his thumb across your shoulder. “We don’t have to. We can just lay here, if you want.”

“Nuh-uh.” Biting your lip, you inhaled deeply enough to press Jason’s face deeper between your breasts. “You can’t just slam the door open, say you need me, kiss me all over, and then say we can just lay here.” He looked up in time to see the wicked gleam in your eye. “Not a chance.”

Enthralled, Jason’s mouth pulled to one side with a smirk as you guided his hand to reach under your shorts. What he found made him pant against your skin.

“Need you,” you whined.

“I’m right here.”

He sat up. And removed his sweatpants and shorts. Smoothing his hands up and down your thighs, he removed your shorts while you tossed the tank top to the floor. His breath staggered. Laid bared before him, you resisted the urge to curl up and hide. He’d seen you all before. But each time, especially on days like this when he wanted to relearn you after an extended time apart, it was like he was seeing you anew. His eyes raked down your form. And up again. Like he knew he missed seeing that one crease of your skin, a certain freckle, or the flush rising up between your breasts. Each small moment was his favorite. And he wasn’t going to miss a single one.

All the while, you trembled under his gaze. And you took the time to appreciate him too. The smooth curves of his muscles; they were strong enough to defend a city, and soft enough to hold you tight. But you also noted the ragged edges of his scars. How some of them had smoothed into soft curves with time, but you knew each story. Each case and the number of lives saved. This man, capable of saving a city, was hovered over you like you were the center of his universe. The way his lower tummy flexed caught your attention like a whirlpool. Then his hands and mouth were moving for your pleasure, and you were lost.

Jason’s palm laid over your sex, cupping how warm and wet you’d become while waiting for his desperate entry. His mouth moved from one of your breasts to the other, nipping and kissing the swells of them and laving his tongue over your nipples. When his fingers finally curled into your heat, you moaned loudly. Which made him smile against your skin.

“Gonna make you louder than that,” he promised.

He didn’t waste time when bringing you to the brink with his fingers. He curled them, scissored them, until you were keening his name. He had to lay his other hand against your lower stomach to hold you in place. On another night, he would have taken great pleasure laying his forearm across that same spot, pinning you down and eating you out for hours. But today, he needed to feel you around him as soon as possible. When he was sure he wouldn’t hurt you, he slotted himself between your thighs.

“Y/N-”

“Jay, need you, please.” You reached up and swirled your thumb around his tip. His strangled cry and tight grip on your wrist stopped you. “Please-”

Two breaths later he worked inch by glorious inch into your sex. The needy clench of you made his mouth drop open. He focused hard on working all the way into you before he could cum. It stole his breath how hard you could clench around him. How sexed-out you looked already. Jason finally rolled his hips. You rolled to meet him, gripping at his arms on either side of your head.

Tiny whines and whimpers traitorously made it past your lips. Each thrust of his made your body shudder. The back of your mind frantically tried to come up with an excuse for Bruce to not separate you two this long ever again. But Jason was moving too fast, too perfectly, to blindingly for the plans to stick longer than a second. You could come up with something later. You gave into the waves of delight he was thrusting into you. Lips trembling, you allowed your sounds to grow louder, knowing that they would spur him on. Jason’s own noises grew louder to match you. Desperate chasing of the sparks of pleasure soon had you both crying out. Jason smothered you as his arms gave out, overcome with the way your sex was milking his release.

A few minutes later, you shuddered as he pulled out. The water-proof blanket was a blessing. Especially when he was in the habit of making a mess of you. You forced your eyes open. And froze.

Jason had a keen eye on your sex. Oblivious to his own movements, he reached up and pressed lightly on your abdomen. He kneaded the pouch there, ignoring or ignorant of your whimpers of sensitivity.

“Baby- what are you doing?”

He kept pressing, watching his cum leak out of you. “I – You’ve got so much of me in you.” Enraptured, he held you in place so he could continue to watch the show. “Maybe we should take longer missions. So I can do this to you more often. I’m impressed you can hold that much.”

“Alright.” You panted. “Then leave it in.”

“No. Gotta make room for round two.”

Incredulous, your eyes went wide. Especially when he started to fist his cock again. You clenched, squeezing out more of his release at the sight of his length swelling slowly in his hand. “Jay, sweetie, I can’t. Too-“ You broke off with a gasp as he flicked over your clit. “Too sensitive.”

“Sure you can. For me?”

How could you ever tell those big, beautiful eyes no?

Thankfully he took several minutes to kiss you all over again while he palmed himself to hardness again. By then, you wanted him in you again. But he took his time. Scooping more cum out of you, licking his lips hungrily to see you gape for him, he couldn’t focus on one thing about you for more than a few seconds. He watched your eyes drift closed while he kissed down your stomach. Distracted, you didn’t see his plan.

Jason flipped you on to your stomach. From there, he could massage up your back, pushing lightly on your spine to squeeze out just a pit more. His stance between your thighs kept you from closing them. He kneaded your ass before leaning over you.

“Think you can take me again, now?” Sliding his hand into your hair, he used your locks to tilt your face to one side. “Hmm?”

“Mhmm.” You arched your ass up towards his length. “Yes, please.”

He breathed a laugh. “If I didn’t know you were such a needy thing ninety percent of the time, I’d compliment your politeness.”

“C’mon, Jay.” You reached back for him, only to have your hand pinned to the blanket next to your face. Again you arched your back so your ass could rub along his length. As he gasped, you smiled. “You said you wanted round two. And you’re ready for it.”

“There it is. My needy girl. Mine.”

He sheathed you in a breath. It took him several stuttered gasps to refill his lungs after feeling you around him again so soon. Unprompted, the memories of how he won you filled his mind. He kissed between your shoulder blades while you both adjusted, thinking. He remembered how your rogue lives had overlapped, helping and hindering. Bruce convinced him to invite you to join the crew after you were injured. Jason had watched as Alfred patched you up. You didn’t like how big the guest room was. This room. He’d shared it with you for the first several weeks. Simply holding you at night, soothing you from the nightmares that chased you. He stayed because of you. Now, here you were. In his arms. No longer tormented except by whatever pleasure he could dish out. And he intended to dish out plenty.

Slowly he began to drag out of you, only to thrust quickly. As if he was drawn into you like the strongest magnet. Like he wasn’t complete without you. Over and over again he filled you, listening for your cries and pleas. How your name rasped around his name. You were his, yes. But he was also yours, wholly and infinitely. The way your velvety walls held him, and the glow of your skin, made him want to stay connected like this forever. But you clawed at the fabric under your fingernails, He imagined feeling that desperation against his own skin and flinched as his vision whited out. With a shout, he stilled over you, shuddering and filling you once again. Chasing that last feeling of belonging to each other, he pumped a few more times until you were inching up the bed to get away from his cock.

Finally, Jason fell to one side. You remained impaled on him until you caught enough of your breath to free yourself. His happily exhausted face was there to meet you when you turned in his arms. He brushed some of your hair off your sweaty face. You nuzzled your noses together.

“Jay… I have a confession.”

He grinned, already connecting the dots through his post-sex maze. “So, I’ve been had.” He kissed your hairline, hugging you closer.

“That was the plan, but then you kinda took over. Not complaining.” You snuggled further into his arms. Then you smothered a grin. “Have you and Dick really dated the same girl?”

“What’s he been-” He sucked his teeth. “Eavesdropping too. But, yeah. Just as a front. For some gala or another, or to distract from Bruce having to miss an event because of a case. None of them ever made it far. Hard to be when all they wanted was a tour of the Manor.” Burrowing his nose behind your ear, he added, “nobody has been as wonderful as you. As beautiful.” He kissed with each praise. “As clever. As strong. Or as perfect of a fit in my hands.”

With a groan, you caught his roaming hands before they could start round three. A flurry of kisses later, he convinced you otherwise.

***

Masterlist

Other Jason Todd x Vigilante!Reader Fics:

 Two Hoods, One Revenge (S)

 Your Favorite Game (S)

Tame the Wild (S)

 Race to the Top (S)

ABC’s of Jason Todd: An alternate NSFW alphabet mixed with fluff, angst, and of course, smut. [Complete]

[paperultra]

service with a smile!

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 1,726 words Warnings: Swearing, violence, verbally/physically abusive customer, reader has a brief panic attack

eccedentesiast (noun): someone who fakes a smile

It’s six-thirty in the evening at the Baratie. The customers are ravenous, the kitchen is in the weeds, and you’re wearing a snake-like trail into the floor of the restaurant delivering drinks and dishes when the sound of snapping fingers pricks your ears.

“Waiter!”

Twisting your neck around, you spot the man at table four waving you over.

You quickly make your way to him with a bright smile. “Yes? What can I do for you?”

The man gestures to the plate in front of him, disgust clear on his face. “I said I wanted my steak medium-well.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir,” you reply. Leaning over slightly to check, your eyebrows knit together as you stare at the slice of meat pushed to the edge of the plate. “… It seems to be medium-well, though?”

“No,” he snaps. Light glints sharply off the many rings on his fingers as he pointedly prods at the center of the slice with his knife. “It still has some pink in it, see? I can’t eat this.”

“Well, sir,” you mentally roll your eyes up to the ceiling, though your gaze remains attentive and apologetic, “Here in our restaurant, medium-well steak will still have a little bit of pink. We could bring it back to the kitchen and have it cooked until it’s well done, if you’d like. It’d take no more than five minutes.”

“I don’t like well done steak. It’s too dry.”

Oh, god.

“I see. Well, we could still bring it back to the kitchen and see what the cooks can do.”

The man clicks his tongue. “Fucking hell.” Sneering, he drops his steak knife and pushes the plate towards you. “Fine. Go. I’m not paying if you guys fuck it up again.”

“We’ll do our best.” Fuck you.

Nodding deferentially, you scoop up the plate and head off to the kitchen, smiling all the while.

“Carne!” you announce after you kick open the door, setting the steak on the pass and leaning over to catch the attention of the rotisseur. “Customer at table four says your steak is shit.”

“What?!”

“He wants it medium-well with no pink at all.” Carne swears and stomps over to fetch the steak. A slight movement in the corner catches your eye, and you look over at Sanji, who’s already looking at you as he pulls his suit jacket on. “Hey, chef.” A genuine grin stretches your face. “The old man kick you off the line again?”

“He slated my mixed paella,” Sanji replies, no small amount of irritation in his voice. It melts away quickly as he smirks and sends a wink your way. “But I’ll be seeing more of you out there, so maybe I should count my blessings.”

“There’s certainly one at table four right now.” Balancing three plates for table seven on one arm, you grab the fourth with your free hand.

Sanji hurries to hold the door open for you, frowning through the thank-you that flies from your mouth. “What else did they say?” he asks seriously. “Do they need to be kicked out?”

Despite the rush, your heart finds the time to skip a beat.

“Nah, not yet,” you assure. “Now hurry up!”

“[Y/n] –”

“Bye!”

As you pass him, your head held high, you hear Sanji sigh and chuckle in resignation.

You deliver the plates and check back with guests who have already gotten their food before returning to the kitchen. Table four’s well done medium-well steak with no pink is on the pass already when you go in, freshly garnished and by all appearances even more gorgeous than before.

Raising your eyebrows, you whistle. “Thanks, Carne! Love you!” you shout over the din of cooks before grabbing the plate.

“Kiss my ass!”

You laugh. One of the other waiters wishes you luck and pats your back as you exit.

You waste only a brief moment just outside the kitchen to take a deep breath and scan the restaurant. Sanji is at the far end, refilling waters and likely charming the eyelashes off a table of giggling young women. You’d kill to be on either side right now.

Closing your eyes, you recite the Baratie’s fourth employee guideline and then smile, stepping out into the dining area and walking over to table four.

The customer is God.

“Here you go, sir,” you say, placing the plate before him. “I’m sor –”

“This looks like shit.” The man hardly glances at the steak Carne had so painstakingly reprepared, choosing instead to glare at you. “I waited five whole minutes for this?”

The customer. Is. God.

Your teeth hurt. “Our rotisseur put in his best work to fix the mistake.”

“Well, he should be fired on the spot.”

“If you would just try it –”

The man suddenly slams his fist on the table and stands up, his face red, grabbing the attention of the surrounding guests as he throws the plate onto the ground.

“DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, WAITER!”

His hairy, meaty hand seizes the collar of your uniform.

Your perfect smile slips off your face.

“Get your hand off of me.”

The man doesn’t listen. He raises his other fist and swings it at your mouth instead.

You pull him down and knee him in the face before he even realizes that you’ve dodged.

Crunch. Warm blood splatters over your carefully ironed slacks.

“Augh!”

The man’s hands fly up to his nose. You shove him face-down to the ground and press your knee into his back, yanking his head up by his hair.

“I asked you to taste your fucking steak,” you breathe, tightening your grip. “I didn’t ask you to FUCKING TOUCH ME. OKAY?”

His groan bubbles quietly through bloodied teeth.

Your ears ring. You’re cold and your head is numb and your heart is racing, and you’re breathing, but it feels like you’re not getting enough air. You don’t move a muscle.

Above you, muffled and buried underwater, someone calls out your name.

A hand rubs your back gently. Your name is murmured again, and you finally blink, slowly twisting around to look up at Sanji.

“I think he got the message, sweetheart. Come on. The old man’ll take care of the rest.”

He places his hand over yours, coaxing you to let go of the man’s hair. It hurts, but you do it, and Sanji helps you stand afterwards.

“Come on,” he whispers. “We’ll wash dishes together until you feel better.”

“You’re supposed to be waiting tables,” you mumble. Your mouth is dry.

“You know I hate doing that anyway.”

He tucks you underneath his arm. You push your face into the front of his suit and smell the traces of his last smoke break as he guides you to the kitchen.

Washing dishes is a ritual you’ve had since you were a kid. While Sanji’s punishments had been anything that prevented him from cooking or flirting, yours were limited to washing dishes. You loathed the chore, and Zeff took note and made sure to stick you at the sinks whenever you got into trouble. You’d curse and splash and generally be a pain in the ass to the rest of the kitchen, but you scrubbed the dishes pretty damn well, and within an hour or two your anger would fizzle out and you’d be back to your usual self.

Over time, the chore became something that grounded you whenever you weren’t feeling too hot. It kept your hands busy, and sometimes Sanji would join you to chat and complain until Zeff decided that the two of you were just a little too happy in his kitchen and kicked one or both of you out.

“Washing or drying?” Sanji asks. He had tossed his jacket somewhere while you were thinking and is now holding out an apron for you to take.

“Washing.” You slip the apron on and roll up your sleeves.

Nobody bothers you or Sanji as you start working. You use a generous amount of soap, let the water heat up until it almost scalds your skin, and scrub each plate and bowl and utensil and glass until they’re better than new. Then you hand it off to Sanji, who carefully dries each item and puts them aside.

Eventually, you find your voice again.

“Sorry you had to come over and get me. I thought I could handle it.”

“No, I should’ve been there before it got too bad. I’m sorry.” Sanji meets your eyes, and his gaze softens into something sad. “What happened?”

Your shrug is so small you almost don’t feel it. “I was fine when he was yelling at me. But when he grabbed me by the collar, I just – I dunno. It surprised me real bad.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Just wrinkled my shirt.” You bend your knee, feeling the stiffness of dried blood on your slacks, and pout. “And stained my pants.”

“He didn’t even land a hit, at the very least,” Sanji says. A corner of his mouth tilts up. “I’ve got to say, I’m quite impressed.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really? I impressed Black Leg Sanji by kneeing a customer in the face?”

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you fight a customer. You usually calm them right down.”

“Well, this one was a real shitbag. I’m surprised I haven’t had to do it sooner, to be honest.”

He shakes his head. “It shouldn’t be something you should ever have to do,” he tells you. “Not while I’m here. If I ever see that bastard again, I swear I’ll kill him.”

“My hero,” you say with a smile, kicking up one foot.

Sanji winks at you and, with towel and dish in hand, leans over slightly to kiss the side of your head. It’s an innocent and playful thing he’s started doing as of late, and it certainly has no underlying meaning whatsoever, so you make a show of scrunching up your face like you always do. You swear that your face only feels hot because of the steam.

“Until my dying breath,” he says softly.

Oh. It’s not so funny anymore.

You flick bubbles at him and resume washing the dishes. Sanji grins and resumes drying, and if you scoot closer until you feel his arm brush yours with every movement, well – that’s nobody’s business but yours.

[cherryrikis]

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 007 ! a statement

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note i was out all day to the point i almost forgot ab this smau ngl. + in honor of my fav @/hannicorpse bc she turns 18 today!!

previous <> masterlist <> next

“y/n? its rinnie. lets go out. you havent gotten out of bed in days. its not the end of the world. ill take you to a nice cafe.” haerin said as she knocked on the bedroom door.

“dude, too soon. no cafes.” you heard danielle mutter as she lightly hit haerin’s shoulder.

“y/n, its dani. please come out?”

hesitantly, you got up slowly and unlocked the door. behind it, revealed danielle, haerin, hyein, and minji, all holding essential items they knew would comfort you. ice cream, tissue, ramen, all sorts of stuff.

“oh, poor yn..” hyein pouted with sympathy as she pulled you into her arms. she wasn’t wrong, poor you. your eyes were puffy and red from crying, on top of your heavy eye bags due to the lack of sleep.

“y/n? someone’s here to see you.” hanni informed as she came up the stairs.

your stomach dropped to the floor. you felt your heart pounding out your chest, it almost came out your mouth.

“tell him to leave.” you scoffed, turning to go back into your room.

“it’s not him.” minji cut you off as she pulled your arm to turn you around.

slowly, the five girls moved out the way to reveal jungwon and jake, standing at the bottom of the staircase. “hey y/n.” jake politely waved.

“we’ll give you some time.” minji and danielle nodded as they took the others into the second bedroom.

“i know what you’re thinking. and before you say anything, riki didn’t deny it by choice. if it was up to him, the whole world would have already known how much he loves you. but the manager insisted it was this way. even bang pd wanted your word for the article, yet they just wanted to leave you out of it.” jake spoke slowly to you as jungwon wiped away your dry tears with a wet tissue.

“where is he right now?” you whispered. you were almost unsure if they could hear you or not.

“still locked in his room. you two are in the same boat right now. he’s just like you, he refused to leave his bed.” jungwon chuckled as he attempted to lighten the mood. “we talked to the manager this morning, and last week after the scandal first came out. but there’s nothing we could do.”

“thank you for trying. i had no idea. i just, i really can’t face him right now.” you sighed, rubbing your forehead in annoyance.

“we understand. take your time. i just hope you two are back in shape for music bank, when you guys have to go on in two days.” said jake, before he got up to get more water from the kitchen.

“wait- then, who covered for us five days ago? if i didn’t show up, i assume he didn’t either.” you furrowed your brows.

“eunchae and sangmin came back temporarily due to the circumstances. but you two are required to be back by this next airing.” jungwon informed.

“jungwon, we should get going. but it was lovely talking to you. see you around.” jake politely interrupted as jungwon followed him out the door.

you remained sat on the couch in silence. “what am i gonna do..” you murmured.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1

[takamimami]

Hello! Congratulations on the followers!

Since you're open, my request is a Luffy x F!Reader with the fluff prompt "Is everything okay?" "I just missed you". I was thinking they spent the day apart, exploring a new island with different members of the crew, and when they meet again later, Luffy gets clingy because he had fun, but missed her.

I hope that's okay. Congrats once more, your writing is amazing ^-^

Ahhhh, thank you for being my first submission!! I am so happy to have gotten a Luffy submission first, I want to get more comfortable writing for him :3 thank you for the love, and I hope you enjoy!!

Luffy x F!Reader - SFW - "Is everything okay?" "I just missed you." - STORY UNDER THE CUT CW: Fluff, Zoro got lost, Luffy missed you, Use of Y/N --- word count; 1.3k

Your legs ached as you scaled the gangway back up onto the deck of the Sunny, and you could already feel the blisters forming on the bottoms of your feet. The day had started as normal as any other, with you and Robin sitting together and enjoying a cup of coffee while she browsed the newspaper she’d snagged in town after docking. The rest of the crew was still fast asleep, and you and Robin began to grow restless waiting for the rest of them to wake up. 

“I say we head into town and do some sightseeing before the boys wake up and just want to eat the place dry,” she giggles, to which you nod and begin making your way off the ship. Just before you two can clear the gangway, you hear a deep voice call out for you, flipping your head around to see Zoro watching you two curiously. He insisted on accompanying the two of you, which you didn’t argue about, and now thinking back on it, you wished you had insisted that he stayed back.

“I can’t believe you made us walk all the way to the opposite end of the island to look for you,” you groan, flopping down into the chair and kicking off your shoes as Zoro looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t make you do anything,” he chuckles, raising his hands and putting them behind his head nonchalantly, “I would have found my way back to the ship one way or another.”

You pick up one of your shoes and fling it at Zoro, who dodges it without even opening his eyes. Robin just giggles at your bickering, and the commotion has the remainder of your crew funneling out from below the deck to see what is happening.

“Oh, hey guys!” Usopp greets you warmly, he and Chopper running down the stairs and in your direction. 

“Luffy, they’re back!” Nami calls behind her as she stands near the helm, and a short time later your captain comes flying over the railing, stretching his arms with his devil fruit to pull himself to your body and wrap you in a koala hug. 

“Y/N!” Luffy calls out as he flies through the air, and you note that his usual accompanying giggle is missing, making you quirk an eyebrow at him as he latches on to you.

You don’t have time to question him, however, because the hug he envelopes you in is nearly bone-crushing. 

“Hi,” you grunt, struggling to keep a smile due to the pressure of the hug and the added strain to your legs now that you were supporting both of you. He notices your wince and lets go of you momentarily, eyes tracing over you to inspect you for injury.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

You offer him a reassuring look, nodding your head in the direction of Zoro, who has now taken up his usual spot underneath the crow’s nest, “I’m fine, my legs are just sore from scouring the whole island in search of your navigationally challenged vice-captain.”

Your face falls when Luffy doesn’t even crack a smile at your jab, his lips remaining slightly down-turned as he inches closer to you.

Sanji’s voice cuts you off before you can ask if he’s alright, immediately pulling Luffy’s attention as he announces that dinner is ready. 

You all huddle around together on deck as Sanji brings out the food, and before you can even look around for a spot to sit Luffy tugs you down into his lap, holding your waist tightly as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You smile contently as you feel his fingers slip under your shirt, seeking the warmth of your skin as he rubs the soft skin of your stomach. The whole time you two eat he holds you in his lap, and you relax into his embrace as everyone recounts their day. 

You rarely spend a full day away from Luffy, so when Usopp begins telling everyone about their adventures of the day, you are once again confused by his lack of emotion or reaction. 

“Luffy! Tell everyone about the giant fish we saw on the pier!”

You take a bite of your food, expecting to hear Luffy’s emphatic voice begin to talk, but instead, you hear nothing but silence. Looking around at everyone, you notice they are all staring just past you, eyeing Luffy and waiting for him to speak.

You follow suit, turning to look over your shoulder, only to find Luffy staring blankly at you, not even remotely aware of his surroundings or the conversation that was transpiring.

“Earth to Luffy” Usopp presses, waving his hands to grab his attention. Luffy maintains his gaze on you for a moment longer, before snapping out of it with a confused “huh?”.

“Tell them about the giant fish we saw!”

“Huh? What fish?”

Everyone quickly loses interest in Usopp’s story as he starts recounting the encounter with a massive fish, and you look over your shoulder wearily to observe Luffy again. You can’t help but notice how distracted and distant he is acting, usually being the main one to entertain Usopp’s dramatic stories.

You decide not to press it at the moment, allowing everyone to finish eating and slowly drift off into their nighttime routines before pulling Luffy’s hand and leading him to the figurehead of the Sunny. You knew this was one of his favorite spots to sit, and you were relieved to see a small smile curl onto his lips as you two curled up together and stared out at the sea, the setting sun on the horizon casting shades of orange and pink along the sky.

“Hey, Luffy,” you hum, leaning your head back to look up at him from where you sat in his lap. You notice a twinkle in his eye as he meets your gaze, his neck craning down to look at you. “Is everything okay?” He furrows his brow in genuine confusion, and before he can ask for clarification you continue, “You seemed… distant earlier. I just want to make sure you’re alright, or if something is bothering you?”

You can see the wheels start turning in his head as he ponders your words, lifting his gaze to look back out to the ocean for a few heartbeats before looking back down at you, flashing his signature contagious smile.

“Oh, yeah, I just missed you, that’s all,” he giggles - the sound a soothing balm to your worrying mind as he leans down and tickles the tip of your nose with his. “I was bummed you were gone by the time I woke up, and I thought that maybe Usopp and I would run into you while we were exploring. So then when we didn’t, I kinda just came back to the ship and waited for you to get back.”

Your shoulders relax with his admission, and he giggles a few more times as you lean up further and place a feather-light kiss on his nose. “I missed you too, Luff,” you giggle back, snuggling further into his lap as a wave crashes against the side of the Sunny. “I’ll make it up to you.”

He grins as he lifts his head back up, another wave rocking the boat as you feel the chill of the evening air settling in. You yawn, feeling goosebumps prickle on your skin as the sea breeze sends a shiver through your body. 

“C’mon, Y/N,” Luffy croons, helping you to your feet as he leads you back down to the deck, “Don’t need you getting sick on me.”

You smile sleepily as you walk the deck, Luffy’s arm securely around you as he feels your tired legs struggling to keep you upright. He bids the rest of the crew a good night before lifting you up into his arms, your face nuzzling into his neck as he carries you below deck. In no time the two of you are snuggled under the blanket in the captain’s quarters, Luffy’s fingers tracing gentle circles in the small of your back as he listens to the sound of your breathing slow down. He pulls back from you to gaze upon your face fondly, savoring the last few minutes of your presence before sleep overtakes him.

Supernova Captains event is open until 10/11! Submit a request here :3

✨come say hai :3✨ 100 FOLLOWERS EVENT

[fckeddiemunson]

Blurred Lines Pt. 2

Part One Here:

Summary: What was a one time thing is turning into a full fledged affair

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI. some choking, p in v, creampie, more cheating, handjob, spitting

Notes: AHH ok part 2 is here! Please enjoy, I may make a part 3 i have some ideas.....

2750 words

Getting away with cheating is not a humbling feeling. It boosts your ego without even realising it. And then suddenly you’re taking risks you never would have before. You think you’re untouchable. Especially in this case when there’s two parties involved who have so much to lose. It doesn’t get any better with time either, the longer you aren’t caught for the less careful you become about hiding fleeting glances, small, overlooked touches. Then there’s after work. Going back to your respective homes, playing a husband and father or playing a dutiful fiancé. You think it won’t catch up to you, but it always will.

The immediate day after you were with Rusty, you called in sick – something you had never done. You were sick to your stomach that day, you couldn’t even be at home. Dom was at home sleeping in the same bed you let Rusty fuck you in, worse in the same sheets. Your absence was met with a slew of texts from Rusty, get better soon, hope you’re in tomorrow, where’s the link to my google calendar?, please sweetheart I’m useless without you. It was honestly a bit overwhelming. You spent most of that day in your car, driving past the office about ten times like a maniac. Once evening hit and you knew Dom would have left for work you went home. You collapsed once inside, relief rushing through you at being alone. You breathed deeply and smelt the dinner Dom had cooked and left warming in the oven for you. despite the rough patch you were having, he still made time for you like this, it made you sick thinking about it. You frowned, a twinge of guilt coursed through you as picked at the food, not very hungry. Your phone vibrated, filling the silent void you had cocooned yourself in. you felt even worse checking the message, from Dom sending his love and hoping you enjoyed dinner. Sending back a message with love hearts you shut your phone and cringed. But as you sat there longer, chewing slowly on the potatoes your loving fiancé had cooked. You made a decision.  A decision to not let this effect you. Evidently you had gotten away with it. Everything would be fine so long as it remained a one-time thing.

The next morning you walked into the office with your head held high. Rusty had beat you into the office, not many people had filed in this early. You marched into his office locked the door and leaned against the door with your arms crossed.

“The other night was a one-time thing.” Your stern voice almost echoed in the room.

“Jesus. Keep your voice down!” Rusty looked suspiciously out the little window, not a soul was around besides the two of you. Ignoring him a little you continued; “I don’t regret it, god, I don’t regret it, but we have lives we must maintain.”

“I agree. We work so well together is all. We got carried away is what happened. For the record, I don’t regret it either, I should but I don’t. Shall we begin the day? Coffee?” Rusty had already made you a cup, it sat next to his on the desk. And just like that. It was swept under the rug, nothing more needed to be said.

A week passed uneventfully; more prep work was done for the woman whose body was found in the dumpster. The trial really was only another few weeks away and at this point it seemed cut and dry, open and closed. All thanks to your hard (very hard) work with Rusty that night. It wasn’t until you felt yourself staring at Rusty again when you should’ve been working that you felt concerned again. You felt an invisible tug towards him, a shudder in your lower stomach when you studied his lips for too long. You were reminded how good they felt on you, how good they felt on your neck – no. You shook your head, trying to snap out of your daydream, or more memory of Rusty.

The next week was full of late nights in the office with Rusty, the case now was too sensitive and confidential to work on anywhere else. Most of your team was in the office until about 8pm. It was the Friday before the trial was set to start, the following Monday. It was now approaching 8:30pm, everyone had already vacated, under the impression that we wouldn’t discover anything new this close to trial. But Rusty was insistent, he was beyond thorough and would not stop until he was satisfied there was nothing else to find. You had organised food for the two of you and stood in the break room, dishing up a plate of chicken and rice. Rusty was standing over his desk when you took it in, his hand catching yours as you placed his food.

“You know I really appreciate you. You’re the best assistant anyone could ask for.” His thumb rubbed the back of your hand, smiling.

“I’m much more than an assistant you know” You whispered, sliding your hand away.

“You’re so much more.” Rusty said quietly, you looked back at him. Without thinking, you tilted your head up and kissed him, eyes closing briefly. He kissed back, leaning into you. But it was all over too quickly, you pulled away, scurrying back to the break room to grab your food. You stood there with your hands on your hips, staring at the ground in disbelief. Another decision was made in that moment. The true point of no return.

**

“Fuck!” Rusty yelled after a few more hours of meticulous reading and frustrated re-reading of the case files.

“There’s just nothing else. I can’t find anything to fortify our case further.” Rusty slumped in his office chair, rubbing his temples and frowning.

“Maybe that’s because its already foolproof.” You offered, throwing your stack of papers back on the desk.

“No, it has to be better.” Rusty almost snapped, frustration overcoming him. You rolled your eyes, not appreciating the tone.

“Come on. Grab your things.” In a moment you were up, handbag and laptop in hand.

“What, why?” Rusty slowly got up, grabbing his things and attempting to tidy up before leaving for the weekend.

“We’re going to clear our heads.” You headed for the elevator; Rusty followed behind chuckling after you. Rusty’s arm brushed against yours the entire lift, he didn’t seem to want to move, and you were trying to stop yourself from moving closer to him. You looked at him again, his tie still tight from this morning. You placed your bag on the ground and reached up to his tie, dodging his gaze.

“Its now after work, got to loosen up a bit.” You loosened his tie, hands lingering on his chest, his warmth radiated up through your fingertips. In an instant, he backed you into the lift wall and kissed you deeply. You gasped as his hands pulled at the bottom of your shirt from your skirt, rucking it up and sliding his hands under. You felt his fingertips working upwards, running across your ribcage, feeling his way. He pulled his hands out and fiddled with the buttons up at your chest. The lift pinged as he undid two, exposing your cleavage to him, he looked smug as you walked to your car.

You drove the two of you to a cliff top lookout, it overlooked the whole city. At this time of night, you expected local teenagers with beer getting drunk, but it was thankfully deserted by the time you got up there. Rusty had asked many questions along the way, not a man who liked to be surprised. You had answered all of them, with Rusty kissing your hand. The city lights twinkled in the distance, feeling a lifetime away from the lookout. You sat in silence for a moment, both looking ahead at the view. It was you who broke the silence, sighing deeply and looking at Rusty.

“Fuck it.” You whispered, more to yourself and hiked up your skirt, climbing over the centre console, and into Rusty’s lap. He was amused, a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips.

“I don’t want it to be a one-time thing, Rusty. I want you. I have craved you ever since that night. I can’t stop thinking about you.” You knew you sounded obsessive and a bit crazy. You knew it was a lot to be asking of him, of anyone but that longing desire you had burned for him. You tried to be a head strong person, but you had somehow almost girl-bossed your way into an affair.

“I don’t like keeping secrets from my wife.” Rusty was already playing with the buttons on your shirt, teasing you.

“So, I’m sure you told her about the other night then?” You stared him down, lifting his chin and forcing his eyes to meet yours.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“Just shut up.” Rusty’s voice was harsh as he snaked his hands around the back of your head, pulling you down for a kiss. It was rough, all teeth nipping at each other’s lips. You let him kiss you, your hands snaking down to play with the buckle on his pants. Rusty let out a deep sigh as your hand brushed against him. He was rigid as the back of your hand stroked him, pulling his cock out of his pants. You eagerly spat, it landed on his cock, Rusty hissed at the contact. He bucked his hips when you touched him, a soft whine escaping his lips as you jerked him up and down with lazy strokes. You leant forward, lips connecting to his exposed neck, you felt a low warming in your stomach as you licked a stripe up his neck, stopping at his jawline and kissing him along it finally reaching his mouth. You licked his lower lip, begging for entrance, whining when he waved a hand through your hair pulling back, his grip firm. You locked eyes as your hand continued to stroke him up and down, now painfully hard, the tip blushing pink as you ran your thumb over the slit. Rusty grunted your name, his head falling back against the seat. Taking the opportunity, you kissed him, pulling him in and biting his lower lip, running your tongue against his now swollen lip.

Rusty took the chance and pushed you back, landing against the dashboard, your legs spread for him, pussy covered only by sheer stockings. You started pulling them down awkwardly, attempting to shimmy them off you when Rusty put his hand on yours to stop. His wicked smirk returned, hands grabbing on the material at the apex of your thighs, gripping tight and ripping a hole in them. A surprised gasp left your mouth as you stared at him through half closed lids, lustfully enjoying the way Rusty kneaded at your exposed thighs. His hand grabbed your thigh dangerously high, his thumb swiping over your underwear, brushing your clit. His thumb hooked under the band, feeling the warmth of your cunt as he inched towards your dripping entrance. A mix between a moan and a dark chuckle left his mouth when he felt how wet you were for him. How all it took was a hand-job to get you aching for him. He looked at you then, and you felt powerful, eyes following your hand down and gripping his dick as you leant forward and grinded your hips down onto him, his tip flicking against your clit.

“Please.” He whispered, hips meeting your grinding, breathless moans leaving him. You slipped forward, tilted your hips and sunk down slowly onto his length. Rusty was big, there was no way to put it lightly and you hissed at the burn sinking further onto him. He knew it too, he chuckled once you took him all the way, pausing to breathe deeply. You moaned as he bucked up impatiently, pulling you towards him and gripping your hips tightly urging you to move on him. Settling yourself, you placed your hands on the car seat for leverage and began moving your hips up and down. You felt his cock sliding in and out of you and you relished the feeling, short panting moans as your pace quickened. Rusty’s fingers kneaded and bruised your hips as you rode him, helping you move as he bucked in shallow thrusts from below. He felt so deep inside you, his cock nudging against the spongey spot making you mew for him. You ground yourself down on him, your clit rubbing back and forth over his neat patch of hair, and you released a moan, feeling yourself getting closer and closer.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You whined as he tangled his hands in your hair, pulling you forward to kiss you. His thrusts deepened and quickened as you rested yourself on his shoulder, panting and moaning as his cock pumped in and out of you now almost harshly. He pushed you back against the dashboard, hand travelling up to your throat and holding you in place as he thrusted upwards into you, still seated in the car. His fingers wrapped around your throat, and he squeezed, testing the waters. Rusty groaned hotly, chuckling darkly as he felt your cunt clench when he squeezed. He did it again and you moaned, it came out high pitched and strained as Rusty kept his hand on your throat.

“Oh, you are a little slut for me, aren’t you?” Rusty’s voice had changed, he sounded rugged as he egged you on.

“My own personal stress relief. Isn’t that what you wanted, to ‘clear my head’?” Rusty felt his ego inflate ten-fold when he looked at you, mimicking your words from earlier. You met his eyes, cock drunk and watering as you held onto his hand, choking you. He tore his hand away from your throat, grabbed your leg and hitched it up higher, resting on his shoulder as he inched forward, fucking you deeper. You couldn’t answer him, you were too fucked out and teetering on the verge of an orgasm, eyes fluttering shut.

Rusty’s hand made its way to your cunt again, his thumb rubbed small circles on your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You jerked against his touch, suddenly becoming too much as your orgasm built in your stomach.

“Rusty, its too much” you attempted to move his hand, but he gripped your wrist and held it away, his thumb moving quicker against you.

“You can take it sweetheart.” His thrusts quickened, his pace becoming erratic and sharp.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, immediately whining as you spasmed. A hot and cold feeling washed over you as Rusty kept on fucking you through your orgasm. Your cunt pulsed, over stimulated and Rusty wasn’t stopping, he was chasing his own high. He grunted and pulled you closer to him, feeling him everywhere. He was too deep, he smelt too good, his arms wrapped around you possessively as he thrusted the last few times. He nestled against you, burying his head in your neck and breathing in deeply as he grabbed you tighter against him, moaning into your hair, his warm cum spilling into you. You eventually relaxed into his tight grip, too tired to move. Rusty felt too good in your arms to move as well, his hand stroked your hair, you could feel his cum dribbling out of you. Rusty made no attempt to move, just stayed locking you in his arms. The rush was subsiding, and you both enjoyed each other’s silent company. You both felt it thought. The pull towards one another. You could hear his mind turning over like cogs, both coming to another decision. It was another night spent with the wrong person. Another night spent with each other, but now he was your arms, feeling far too intimate to be just sex.

You were the first to break the silence, “Rusty, I don’t want to go home, yet.” Your hand snaked in behind his neck, tilting it up so you could look at him.

“I don’t want too either.” His voice was soft, almost as though he didn’t want to admit it to himself.

You don’t know how long you stayed up there, embraced in each other’s arms, but you knew something had changed. There was no going back after this.

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Thirteen

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Thirteen!! I'm actually so excited to post this one. There's some angst, but like it's not all bad, this is actually probably one of my favourite updates to date. But this is just a forewarning! Lots of swearing too, to be expected really so.. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, have a feeling there's gonna be a lot of emotions over this one!

Thank you again for all the love this series has gotten, means so much and really does keep me writing:)

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy @helloitsme1223

Masterlist

It was strained. 

The entire house, its whole atmosphere. It was just incredibly heavy and strange.

It wasn’t hard to miss either, judging from the careful way Rosie had been watching the two of us since she’d first woken up this morning. 

But last night hadn’t fared any better. Em had been weirdly distant; not meeting my eye, dancing around subjects, hardly speaking at all in actuality, and then he went as far as to avoid my touch— even as I’d handed him a fucking fork. 

It was such a harsh reality check for me in truth, because suddenly, I felt like an intruder. 

“El?” Rosie’s voice rang out, drawing me from my inner musings as well as the slice of toast I’d practically been burning a hole into. 

“Hm?” I replied belatedly, dragging my eyes up and away from my plate to cast her a distant look, but Z was just wearing this perplexed sort of frown that had me blinking away any remaining haze as she dropped her spoon into her bowl of cereal. The splash sent a few drops of milk flying over the countertop.

“Called you like four times.” She sighed, that frown of hers still prominent enough for me to throw a small smile back in apology.

“Sorry, just– must be half asleep still.” I attempted to shake off the solemn feeling I’d been cast in, laughing faintly before I finally took a bite out of my own breakfast, hating the way the bread tasted like ash in my mouth.

She didn’t seem to take the bait though, not if the scrunch of her brow was any indication, or her next words, “Are you sure? ‘Cause last night–”

I didn’t know whether or not to be grateful for Marshall’s sudden appearance in that next moment because the girl swiftly cut herself off in favour of hurriedly spooning another load of cereal into her mouth.

Marshall whipped around the island without so much as a glance in my direction, opening up the fridge before he turned towards the coffee pot he had laid out but hadn’t used since my first day here. The kettle and the half-made mug of tea I’d set out for him either going unseen or just ignored. I was betting on the latter.

I opened my mouth to say something, if only to break the debilitating silence, when the man himself unknowingly cut me off. “You almost ready?” He questioned Z, who was still slurping up the remnants of her bowl. 

The girl’s eyes darted towards him from over the porcelain brim of it before she dropped her arms to cast him a buoyant grin lined with, what could have only been, a milk moustache. I couldn’t help the fondness my smile gave way to, or how I reached out to wipe her upper lip with a nearby napkin. 

Her expression softened at either the gesture or my laughter, I wasn't quite sure, but her bright eyes glanced back over to her Dad just as I withdrew my hand.

“Nearly, just my shoes.” Rosie told him easily enough, kicking her legs out beneath the table to better show him her shoeless feet. I saw Marshall roll his eyes out of the corner of my own eye and deigned to take a long sip of my brew if only to keep from flashing him the shared smile that threatened to break through. I didn’t think it would fair well right now, me trying to buddy up to him over his daughter's shameless antics. 

“We got fifteen minutes ‘fore you’re late.” He replied to her as he all but drained his mug dry, the heady smell of coffee grinds polluted the kitchen's air. I bit the inside of my cheek when the familiar warning of scalding his mouth crawled its way out across my tongue, but I didn’t dare speak a word.

Rosie bobbed her head in a quick understanding, already jumping down from the barstool to run and grab the last of her things before she could set off for school, forgetting the dirtied bowl she had left on the counter.

I didn’t think much of my next movement, in truth, mostly looking for a reason to ignore the heavy cloud which had since settled over the shared space, as I picked up both the bowl, my plate too, to carry them both over to the bin and sink. 

A sound had me glancing back over my shoulder instinctively once I’d turned on the taps though, surprised to find Marshall already looking in my direction, or rather the sinks, I supposed.

But maybe I was wrong about that, because my surprise jumped straight up to shock when I heard him speak, to me. “How many times I tell you, you ain’t gotta do that?” It didn’t sound much like the question it was meant to be, more of a grunt than anything else as his hard stare flickered up to meet mine.

It was instinct for me to frown, but as my forehead went to furrow I was quick to smooth it back out again and turn my back on him, knowing this conversation would be much easier if I made quick work of the dishes in the sink. “I don’t mind.” I muttered back, hands already covered in soap duds.

He didn’t deign to respond, just let the sound of the water fill the lengthy space that had been created between us so suddenly. My heart ached a little over it, in truth, as I wondered what I’d done so wrong to have fucked up the easy thing we had going on here. 

Because look, it wasn’t as though I was new to quick snipes or heated conversations, or whatever the fuck this was. But it unsettled me enough to know that it was him that I was on the outs with. Marshall, he’d practically taken me in, done more than just house and feed me, but now he was just over it? Done with all the niceties because of an almost– what, kiss? If it had even been that at all. 

But I didn’t, scratch that, I couldn’t linger on the thought because if I did, then I would be sure to start fucking throwing back words a lot more scathing than just ‘I don’t mind’.

I was broken from the way I was furiously scrubbing away at my plate with the scour when my personal space was suddenly invaded. I all but jumped out of my skin as my head shot over to the left to find Marshall now stood there, leaning over me in the tight corner which sat between the two adjoining counters, just so that he could drop his cup into the soapy basin. 

His eyes met mine the second I looked up at him, mouth somewhat agape enough to have those icy blues of his dropping down to catch a quick look before they settled back on my own again. I went to swallow, confused and caught entirely off guard by the intrusion, but found I couldn’t. Which was good, in reality, seeing as I didn’t dare want to let onto the fact that he’d garnered anything more than surprise out of me.

“Seein’ as you don’t mind then.” 

Marshall’s comment perplexed me further, before I caught wind of what he was really getting at with it. So it was in that next moment that I allowed my eyes to narrow, even as he brushed back against me slowly, almost languid in his retreat. 

I huffed out a tiny, grim laugh, more air than anything, when I shoved the dish I’d been cleaning into his chest, flicking soap and water all over him. But it was missed only slightly by his moving form, catching his bicep instead and allowing a trail of water to drip down his bare forearm. “You won’t mind dryin’ then.” I shot back scathingly, clenching my teeth.

As much as my own action had surprised me, the drawl of my accent heightening in my anger gave way to the actual shock which lined beneath it, forcing me to turn back to the sink before Marshall could realise or actually comment on it. 

I didn’t know what it was about what had transpired that kept him from jumping down my throat, but he kept quiet even as it took him a good second or two to grab the towel hanging by the draining rack and wipe at the sodden plate. 

It was tense after that. Not a word was spoken, and so a shaky exhale left me the moment Rosie reentered the room, her shoes clicking against the kitchen tiles as she slung her school bag over a single shoulder. 

If Marshall heard the reaction, he gave no indication, but was quick in the way he jumped back from the counter to meet her. “Let’s go.” He all but demanded after he’d chucked the towel down onto the side so that he could round the island. 

I didn’t have to look back to hear the confusion Rosie obviously felt, “Is El not coming?”

Opening my mouth to answer her, my chest pinched when Marshall did so for me instead, “Not today. Come on, you gone be late.”

It was with that which he withdrew from the room with, leaving me blinking and Rosie gaping at his retreating figure. I wondered then where the hell it had all gone wrong. 

When Rosie casted her eyes back to me, my hands were still hovering over the sink but I witnessed the way her usual smile had transformed into something more solemn, or perhaps just ruminative. 

Being the adult, as well as the ‘bigger fucking person!’ I wanted to scream at his back. I forced my expression into something a whole lot sweeter than just the bewilderment that had plastered it a second before. I let go of a large breath and reached for the tea towel. 

“I just got a new idea for a song, figured I’d write it down before I lost it, you know?” I attempted to reassure, brushing off how odd the entire situation must have seemed to her.

Because why was I covering for a forty-something year old man and his pissy demeanour? Well, one simple reason could be that it wasn’t Rosie’s fault that her Dad was being a massive prick at the moment, and that I for one wasn’t going to be shucking her with the bubbling irritation I felt for him. Something which I’d picked up from living in a house a whole lot worse than this, where you didn’t know whether a reply would earn you an outright laugh or something to tell your future therapist about.

Z was nothing if not perceptive though and so when she just hummed I was quickly taken back to my own childhood, to when some of my mum’s less shittier boyfriends had attempted to lie their way out of what was obviously happening between the two of them. My skin itched at the thought.

“You gonna be here when I get home?” She asked me before I could say anything at all, which broke my fucking heart, because Rosie was so quick to add to her question, if only to make it seem as though it had been something other that it was, “You know, ‘cause Dad’s talking to the school about what happened yesterday… So I just figured you might wanna hear about it when I got back.”

“Of course I do, Z.” I promised in one hasty reply, already moving to dry my hands before I could even really think about it. “Of course.” I repeated as I made my way over to her, smiling warmly when she met me halfway. “It’ll all be just fine, you hear me?” I murmured to her the second I let myself get swept up in one of her gentle hugs, “Your Dad will sort it all and I’ll be here waiting to hear about it the second you get home, okay?”

She was quiet for a long moment before she just whispered, “Swear it?”

My eyes shuttered closed and I buried a sad smile in the top of her head, already reaching out to lock my pinky with hers. “On my life.” I swore quietly, forcing myself to match the wry grin she wore when she pulled away to peer down at our interlocked fingers. Rosie giggled lightly, choosing to swing our arms back and forth.

I shook my hand in return, wobbling the pair of our limbs ever so slightly, before a slight cough gained our attention. I looked up whilst Z spun around on her heel to find Marshall stood waiting just outside of the doorway, a hazy shadow crossing over the bridge of his nose as he toyed with the set of keys he had in his hand. 

His voice was all too soft when he spoke, eyes zeroed in on his daughter, “Time to go, bean.”

It took everything in me then to look away from him and over to the clock stationed on the far wall, letting Rosie’s hand slip from mine after I gave it a small squeeze. “He’s right.” I sighed lightly, “I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

She was already peering back up at me when I looked over and so I wasn’t too startled by the sudden embrace she wrapped me up in before she hastily made her way towards the front door. 

The quiet which settled in after her wake forced my gaze to return to the man who had yet to follow, his eyes faltering between my own before he dipped his chin in a barely there nod, a gesture which spoke volumes as he turned to leave.

–

Messages  Lottiebug 🐞 In school!! Sorryyyyy didn’t mean to ignore u Was out late and passed out At lunch now, promise to call later xxxxx Love u don’t miss me too much:))

I actually wanted to wring the kid’s neck. She was such a stress inducer that I was sure to head back home to her covered in hives come this point. I mean, where did she get off on making me worry like that? Especially after all that had gone down, all that she had kept from me. And with Rosie last night too, her entire situation having flooded my mind with memories of the past.

Messages  To: Lottiebug 🐞 You’re the actual antichrist I swear Where the hell have you been Lotts?? I’ve been worried sick just waiting for a text or a call, did your phone just die? Or did your charger break again? I swear I’m flying home if you don’t call me the second you step out of those school gates

Or you know, maybe sooner if things with Marshall carried on.

I sighed at the burst of adrenaline which had rushed and drained from me in a too short moment, before I tossed my phone down onto the couch I’d taken to sprawling on, a plethora of notes and pages dotted all around me. 

I figured it was at least one less thing to worry about now though, even if everything going on with Lottie was still a rather large issue at hand. I wanted to scream about it all actually. But currently, my biggest problem was this song. And maybe the man who was set to return in the time between now and the moment Rosie got out of school. 

Because see, I had a small hunch that Marshall was probably going to avoid me for as long as he possibly could, which would end up being the very second his daughter danced back through that door.

The thought had me groaning again, unhappy with how everything was turning out, as well as the lyrics that I just couldn’t get to sound quite right. See, I hadn’t been outright lying to Z when I’d claimed that I had an idea for a new song. Being unable to sleep truly worked wonders on the psyche and could send your imaginative thoughts into a whole other realm.

But still, I was struggling to get it all to fall into place, the verse sounding much more like a bridge and the chorus still lacking something. Even so, it was promising. That much I could tell. Only thing was, I was stuck on whether or not it was going to end up on Marshall’s scrapheap or my next album. 

It was what I was here for, wasn’t it? To write, to collaborate. Even after we’d gotten a little bit side tracked the last few days. But I just didn’t know how much he wanted from me, we hadn’t really spoken about it or hashed over all the gritty details. And yet, even after last night and this morning, I was still here trying to pull something together for him to come back and hear. Even if I was sure that he’d can it the second he did.

“You look like someone just shit on your chest.”

I startled at the voice, flailing a tad to get a better look at the figure which now loomed behind the sofa, but it seemed as though the scare had been enough to send all my hard work flying. 

Three things happened in the next moment: I gaped, frowned, and then ultimately topped it all off with a rather hefty huff, turning back to grab at the pages I’d just been scrawling on with my tongue tucked between my teeth.

“Shat on my chest?” I answered back in the same dull monotone he’d just used, face screwing up slightly as I stretched to collect the last page that had slipped its way further down the sofa. “You know that expression intimately, or just guessing?”

A breathy snort sounded just as the page I’d been reaching for was snatched up before me. My gaze snapped upwards in narrowed slits to scowl at him, unimpressed by the action, before I held out a hand towards him, silently asking for it back.

Marshall took no note. Instead his eyes flitted over the red ink I’d been working on, reading it at a mile a minute. He handed it back without another word said and then rounded the sofa to fall into the seat beside me. 

He had picked up a couple drinks whilst he’d been out, it seemed. Just a couple of coffee’s from what I could first tell and so I wrinkled my nose at the obnoxious smell they let off whilst I settled the final page back into the pile I’d since formed.

“Figured you’d be gone longer.” I couldn’t help but mention whilst he settled in, taking a slow deliberate sip from one of the brown paper cups before he slid the other across the coffee table in my direction, an action to which I raised a brow to.

He shrugged languidly as though nothing had occurred between us earlier, like he had the entire world at his feet actually, and then gathered up the pile, flicking through the pages without much care. “Dealt with that kid and his shitty-ass father, stopped off to get somethin’ to eat when Paul called, then came home.” He quipped promptly enough, leaning forward in his seat to rest his cup back down on the table and shuffle the first few pages between the hands he now had resting on his knees, “This new?”

I flicked my tongue over my front teeth, harsh enough to feel it drag and keep my head from imploading, but careful enough that it didn’t bleed– just yet, I allowed myself to add on. Because honestly, if I had to refrain myself much more than I currently was it sure was going to. 

“Yes.” I quipped shortly, picking up my phone to slide through the brief voice notes I’d made the previous night in bed and then again when I’d stepped out of the shower this morning. “It was just something I kept on replaying, a little melody.” I explained if only so that I wouldn’t allow myself the space to start pestering him with questions and his sudden switch up, because what was with that? “Figured I’d just get it down whether it was good or not.”

He grunted out a hum.

I gritted my teeth.

“What happened at the school then?” I asked in a mutter, feigning nonchalance even though my eyes were already trained on him reading my words and the fact that I was now dying to know what he’d been on about when referencing this kid’s ‘shitty-ass father’. 

His eyes were slow in the way they sloped over to me, my own darting back down to my phone if only so that I could pretend to meet his stare. He looked away again a second later, rolling a single shoulder. “Some teacher caught the shove yesterday, principle was already waitin’ for me when I pulled up.”

Surprised, I blinked. “What, he dragged both you and the kid’s dad in?”

“She. Misogyny has no place in the modern world, Elia.” Marshall corrected all too easily with that curt smile of his that he was so used to using. Typically it would have had me chuckling, but now it just pissed me off further, especially with the use of my full name.

Instead of reacting though, something I supposed he was aiming for there, I rolled my eyes. “She, what the fuck ever. What happened?”

Marshall leaned back in his seat with a quiet huff, “Guy got what was comin’ to him, fuckin’ wrung him and his kid out. Bitch figured he could say a bunch of shit about me and my daughter and I’d just let him?” He blew out a small titter then, though his evident smile was grim, “Bastard’s jus’ lucky I didn’t throw him through one of them windows. Could pay someone more than what he earns in a year to chop his fuckin’ hands off for me.”

I didn’t know how to take his words, all I knew was that a strange emotion had settled over me upon hearing them, almost uncurling the coil that my shoulders had wound themselves into. 

Still, I licked at my lower lip and reached out to take the other cup he’d pushed down onto the table, pleasantly surprised by the lack of coffee it offered. Infact, the sweet taste of chocolate started to chip away at the icy irritation that had been brewing since early this morning. 

“So, no lawsuits?” I murmured over the brim, pulling up a leg to get more comfortable on the sofa, seeing as my little makeshift workspace had now been overtaken. 

Marshall’s eyes caught on me in that next moment and, stupidly, I wasn’t put off by the way they were so clearly examining me. The grit of his jaw softened after a minute and so I figured he’d found whatever it was he was searching so intently for. “A fine for parkin’ in a no-stop zone. But nah, no lawsuits this time ‘round.”

One corner of my mouth ticked upwards impulsively, though I was quick to smother it behind the paper cup, feigning a sigh instead, “And here I thought I’d get to witness a real court in session.”

Em didn’t hide his own smile at my words, his eyes gleaming in a way that gave more away than he realised. You see me, they said. 

I supposed I did.

–

Working on music had always been a way for me to channel or process my emotions and thoughts, whether it was when writing or just messing around. It was possibly the reason as to why I was constantly in a bubble of it, when working, when cooking, driving, when I showered or got ready for bed. It was just always there, a constant companion in a way. 

Em seemed to be torn from the same cloth. In the days I’d spent with him and Rosie, I’d gotten to understand that in a whole new way, he played music almost as much as I did, even if it was barely audible, I could still see the way it settled him in the drum of his hand or the tapping of his foot. I guessed it was why we worked so well together, just in the studio of course.

Somehow we managed to leave whatever resentment and odd feelings we’d been experiencing at the door to the downstairs studio when we’d moved from the living room to get a start on writing again. The song I’d been working on earlier had been pushed to the side so that Marshall could show me the few verses and ideas he’d had for the song we’d been messing with previously, the same one he’d called Dre and practically fawned over.

“I figure it’ll open the album.” He explained from where he’d wheeled his way over to the sound deck, scribbling over the top of it with the pen he kept chewing on subconsciously. “Set the tone, then we can just work around it.” 

I hummed noncommittally, rereading the chorus I’d jotted down and since toyed with. “Could have a big voice on it,” I suggested to him, “Like, it sort of feels like a symphony in the way it builds, I reckon a few people could be jumping over one another for a chance at it.”

When I was met by an immediate silence, the scratch of his pen having paused, the rustle of his papers too. I dragged my eyes up and away from my own page to cast him a sparing glance, but was evidently surprised to find him already watching me. Rather intensely.

“What?” I queried, dropping my hand away from where I’d been rolling my lower lip between my fingertips.

He levelled me with a blank look, “You’re fuckin’ stupid if you reckon I’ma ask anyone but you to sing on this.”

My brow furrowed, before I raised my hand in a placating gesture. “It was just a suggestion– a good one too. Song won’t get as much recognition if I’m on it.”

That blank look shifted so quickly that I could barely even blink before it morphed into something which visibly portrayed his inner irritation. “You think I give a fuck about shit like that? I care about how it sounds, not how much it can make.”

Rolling my eyes, I just shook my head and looked back down at the marked margain, not entertaining him with a reaction. I knew I was right in my words and hadn’t meant anything by it, he could take it how he liked for all I cared. 

He didn’t appear to enjoy that though, seeing as he dropped the pen down onto the deck with a clatter to push himself to his feet and walk closer to the couch I was still perched on. “I mean that shit. What, you think I was jus’ gone push you aside? You think that little of me? Last I checked, this was your fuckin’ song.”

His voice was littered with misplaced exasperation and the way he chose to tower over me, even if he was still stood a foot and a half away, showed it too. He was looking for a fight, had been waiting for it, gearing up. I realised then, rather belatedly, that he wasn’t too good at holding onto his emotions. Sure, he could wait and bite his tongue when he chose to, but those feelings he had only seemed to bubble further the longer he held them in, as though they were stewing in the acid of his stomach, waiting to burn through.

I could really see it now. He was antsy, overassessing, overthinking this entire situation. I could almost smell the unease he’d been simmering in, and I knew it was all down to what had transpired the night before. Only now, he had a real excuse to bite back at me. Rosie wasn’t around to hear or interrupt, and me? I was done being impassive. 

“Yeah, Em. Of course,” I drawled with little to no care as to how I was practically scoffing at his words, “I think you’re an egotistical prick who just wants to steal my work, wasn’t as though I was the one to suggest getting someone else on it or anything.”

He didn’t take too kindly to the sarcasm. 

“You’re awful fuckin’ mouthy for someone who claims they a nobody, you know that?” He sniped back with enough heat to have my back immediately straightening, “All high and mighty, that it? Like you can do no fuckin’ wrong.”

My mouth fell open because– what?

“Just waltz in here,” He continued on in his tirade, “Into my goddamn life and jus’ throw your opinions out, then expect me to lap it all up. Well I ain’t your fuckin’ lapdog and I’m sick of listenin’ to you tell me what to do and how to do it.” He shot out, casting me away with a gesture of his hand which seemed so pointless, what with the way his unblinking gaze was still hooked on me. 

“Me?” I bristled, my voice high in the face of his outright irony as I stared up at him. “You brought me here! You! You were the one to call me, Marshall. You were the one to ask me to collaborate. To come stay with you here. To invite me into your fucking goddamn life!” I mimicked callowly, “So don’t go throwing that shit back in my face just ‘cause it's blown up in yours now.”

“The fuck’s that meant to mean?” Marshall seethed, ridgid in his stance as I forced myself to my feet too, done with sitting below a man so full of anger. 

I laughed bitterly and shook my head at him. “I don’t know what the fuck last night was, but since it happened you’ve been acting like a proper dick about it. An even bigger one than I’d been expecting, too.” I told him plainly, pointing towards his chest as I tried to bite back my gall smile, “And everyone else might be fine soothing your ego and apologising to appease whatever fucking delusions you’ve conjured up in that thick head of yours, but I’m not gonna let a grown man mess with my head and make out like I’ve done something wrong or acted inappropriately. ‘Cause look, I’m sorry if I offended your sensibilities, but again, you’re old enough to fuckin’ be able to work through your own feelings. I can’t be expected to read your mind!”

My chest was heaving with all the anger that fueled my words and I only realised a second too late just how close we’d grown in the short space that sat between his heated question and my reply. 

I glanced up into his eyes, that familiar blue gone, now swimming in dark hues. They flickered between my own and for a split second, I wondered what he saw. He was breathing just as harshly as I was, lit by the intense conclusion we’d been pulled into. 

It was make or break, I figured. 

But then he met me halfway and suddenly I was drowning in him. His hands in my hair, tugging, my fingers digging into his sides. It was unlike the night before, where his breath had been teasing, ghosting over my skin in baited wait. His words soft and genuine. Now it was just sparks flying off–  only not in that shitty Disney magic sort of way, but instead it felt like steel being forged in fire. 

I couldn’t concentrate on the way he was biting at me, teeth clashing as he forced me to expose my neck, me responding in the only way I knew how, dragging his lip between my incisors and pulling. Tugging. Hoping it hurt.

He walked us backwards, feet encasing mine, drawing me up against the nearest wall. My fingers dug in harder, feeling the muscle of his torso jump beneath me. He knocked my head back and we both heard the collision it made with the concrete there but neither of us seemed to care. The sting was enough for me to sink my nails into the skin of his neck and he retaliated by dropping his mouth to my jaw, leaving me gasping at the ceiling that sat above us, pulling him closer even as his own hands started to explore.

“Bastard.” I blew out, voice hitching when his tongue circled around my pulse point.

He answered me by nipping at the skin there, not enough to bruise but to mark, dragging his mouth lower and lower, tugging at the hem of my top until he bit harshly into the collarbone he’d exposed. I choked on my next breath, clawing at his nape until he soothed the sting with a featherlight kiss. 

I dragged his face back up to meet mine, his jaw in the palms of my hands as I knocked my nose against his, panting against his open mouth, not even questioning how I’d gotten this worked up by just his teasing. Because that was what this was, a game. The opener before the real show could begin. He seemed to know it too, smirking briefly at me before he slotted his mouth back over mine, dragging his thumb down my cheek to pool in the small dip there.

My hands fell too, they clung to whichever part of him they could find, but it wasn’t enough. It felt as though everything I’d been feeling, every emotion I’d experienced, not just over the past twelve hours, but during our phone calls, our texts, and the days I’d spent with him here, were pouring out of me. From crevasses that I didn't even know could exist until then.

He pushed and he shoved, greedy in the task of getting what he wanted, but I was just as bad. Just as eager. The moments over the past week where I’d lingered too long, looked too intently, were all making sense now. Silently, I hoped I left my own mark on him, something that was enough to have his mind lingering on me instead. 

I wondered then if he’d known this had been coming. If all his irritation had just been pent up tension. If he’d been angered by the fact he’d given himself away last night.

But then he pulled away. 

My eyelids fluttered.

His thumb dropped to swipe over my bottom lip. It settled there for a second, then two. 

It withdrew, smeared in a sheer coat of spit. I watched on, jaw agape, as he lifted it up to meet his own mouth, wiping it clean in one swift suck all whilst he stared back at me, his eyes taunting. Mouth menacing. 

My next breath escaped me in a silent shudder.

His eyes, dilated and glimmering, flickered between my own. Mirrored arousal looming over us like a thick fog, before he took another step back.

Away.

Retreating.

Only, was that what it was?

I watched, baited by his stance. By the devious look his gaze gave way to. The rest of his features were solemn almost, so blank that it was practically daunting. But his eyes…

They told a different story.

The studio was so quiet I doubted the thought that he couldn’t hear my heavy pants, or the way I swallowed around the lump in my throat. I waited, pondering over his next move, what he might say, before he tilted his head.

The motion caught me by surprise, ever slight as it was, before he spoke, “Times up.”

My face must have ploughed through a dozen different emotions in that brief pause, but confusion won out, head shooting to the right the second he decided to move, crossing the short distance which stood between him and the door.

“Z’s home.”

Ah.

Fuck.

[sc0tters]

The Day It Went Down | Trevor Zegras

summary: you haven’t seen Trevor for weeks, so when he lands up at your door you can’t help it when you fall back into old ways.

part one of the babies and buddies series

warnings: sexual themes, fingering, p in v (unprotected), swearing.

word count: 1.66k

author notes: you guys have been waiting for this one but the Trevor and Hughes sister AU is officially here! I have been writing this piece for days late at night so a lot of it might not make sense but she’s here and she’s happy so we will accept here as it is.

To say you were surprised when he showed up at your door was an understatement.

It was a humid Californian afternoon and you had been sat on your floor getting ready for the a night out with friends when there was a knock at the door “Z?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you opened your door.

The boy took in your sight as you were currently sporting an orange dress that complimented your freshly painted nails “interesting look.” Trevor smiled motioning to the curling rollers that were still in your hair “may I?” He added as you nodded pushing your door open further to let him in.

Your living room hadn’t changed since the hockey player last saw it with everything including the pictures of your brothers and family scattered around your apartment. It reminded Trevor of just who you were “what do you want?” Your words weren’t meant to come out as harsh as they had done so “missed you.” Trevor’s confession came out soft and cute.

What one would have made you smile honestly made you want to pull your hair out “sure you aren’t meant to be saying that to Dixie?” Your arms crossed unintentionally pushing your breasts up “you jealous of her?” The hockey player smirked as he moved across the room to stand with you. The rumours of them had been coming thick and fast since April but now as you two were into June you figured that it only could have gotten more serious for the two of them.

Trevor let his hands run over the satin fabric of your dress as your hands reached up to pull the roller from your hair “why would I be jealous if you don’t want me?” You blinked raking your fingers through your hair “we were only just sleeping together after all.” Your words made him frown as it felt like a punch to the gut.

Twelve months ago you two ended up sharing a drunk night together after you were in the same bar that he was in celebrating a big win. You were stood at the bar waiting for a drink and that was truly all Trevor needed to come up and talk to you.

The boy sighed as he forced your face to look at his “we weren’t just sleeping together.” His finger brushed along your cheek “look I’ve got to leave in thirty minutes.” You sighed pushing away from him as you walked back to your room.

Trevor was hot on your tail as he grew alarmed “a date?” The words felt foreign as they danced on his tongue “what I do is none of your business now Trevor.” You laughed shaking your head.

It felt hypocritical coming from the boy “you think he could fuck you like I do?” Trevor walked up behind you letting his breath send shivers down your spine “he could fuck me even better.” You weren’t even going out with a guy but the boy clearly didn’t know that.

His hands pushed up your dress causing you to gasp “you sure about that baby?” The hockey player grunted running his finger along a high part of your thigh “if I felt your panties they wouldn’t be soaked?” He added watching as your head leaned back against his chest eyes rolling back into your head as your jaw went slack.

Your body melted at his touch “so dry,” the game you were playing was one that you were close to losing “tell me to stop and I will.” Trevor pulled your dress even higher revealing your black panties.

Instead of talking you remained silent letting out a little gasp as his fingers slipped under the fabric “please Z.” You begged finally giving the boy a green light to have his way with you.

The hockey player smirked moving his hand to cup your pussy “fucking hell baby.” Trevor groaned two fingers teasing your clit before he moved them down your slit to thrust them into your pussy.

Your soaked cunt wrapped around his fingers making you both feel hot “Trev.” You moaned as the hockey player used his other hand to wrap around your neck pushing your head up of that he could kiss your lips “I know baby, I know.” His lips were rough against yours as he let out a grunt squeezing his hand around your neck when your eyes locked onto his.

For someone who was getting ready for girls night you were surprisingly horny as you squeezed around the hockey players fingers “you enjoying this?” Trevor smirked watching your face contort in your mirror “huh baby?” He added as you remained quiet “don’t stop Z,” you begged bringing your hips to meet his fingers as he added his thumb focused his attention on your clit.

As you forced your ass against his cock he couldn’t help but grunt “I’m gonna come.” You announced forcing the movement of your hips to go quicker than before “not so fast baby.” Trevor clicked his tongue retracting his fingers from your panties “you thought it was going to be so easy to come when get dressed like this for someone else?” He laughed at the words as you spun around to finally face him.

Trevor looked down at you as he licked his lips like he had seen this as some kind of challenge “real fucking hypocritical of you.” You grumbled placing your hands on his chest as you pushed him back into your bed hit the back of his knees causing him to fall back bringing you with him “you think you. Can. Go. And. Fuck. Someone. Else. And. I. Can’t?” You kissed his lips between each word as your hands reached down to fiddle with the drawstring of the shorts.

The hockey player groaned watching your tongue dart out of your mouth as you focused on moving his cock out of his boxers “never fucked her.” Trevor confessed as your hand teased his cock rubbing up the skin “just you baby.” The boy felt his body shudder as you used his hardened head to tease your clit “I’m still on the pill.” You announced letting your cunt swallow his cock as you sank down on it.

Condoms were something you two had let leave your relationship months ago after you both realised that there was nothing hotter than you coming around his bare cock “shit baby.” Trevor grunted as he began to guide your hips letting you move.

It was hot as your hands went to his shoulder “you always feel so good.” The hockey player confessed as his forehead leaned against yours.

You didn’t want to admit it but you missed these intimate moments with anyone in general as you hadn’t slept with anyone since Trevor took a step back from his relationship with you “missed having me like this?” You smirked as you turned back to look at him.

The boy moaned as you clenched around his cock “thought about you all the time.” The hockey player mumbled as his fingers dug into your sides guiding your hips against his “what would Jack think about you saying that?” Your mention of your brother causing his one hand to brush at your clit “what would he think about you on top of me.” Trevor spat as he let his other hand reach out to slap your hand.

It was now clear that him letting you take control was now over as he had enough of your fun “pull that top off so I can see those pretty tits of yours.” He ordered making your cunt clench around his cock “shit Z,” you cried as you pulled the straps of your dress down bringing your bra with it “you’re so hot.” You added as he brought his lips down to your nipples letting his tongue swirl over the sensitive peaks.

Your fingers locked into his hair “don’t stop T,” your body began to shake “not so strong now are we?” Trevor smirked as you shook your head letting your hands cup his cheeks as you kissed him.

The sight of you two was almost amusing as you were both still fully clothed with your panties pulled to the side as you rode his cock “think you knew I was going to come back to you.” The hockey player confessed as his thumb that was once on your clit moved up to your stomach “feel me right here?” He added making you gasp as he pressed his hand against your skin forcing you to stare back at his eyes as their hardened gaze brought you closer to your high “so big.” You murmured letting your eyes screw shut.

You were still sensitive from the orgasm he never let you have “gonna come.” You cried out as you began letting your hips bounce as Trevor helped move them.

The sight of your breasts bouncing in his face made the boy groan as he let his head rest between them “so fucking beautiful,” Trevor mumbled as he looked up to watch you come.

You were scratching your fingers over his shirt as your body almost collapsed against him “you’re so good baby.” He cooed as his come shot into your cunt that practically soaked it in as your release mixed with his.

Trevor spun you over so that he was now on top of you as his cock slid out of your pussy “can’t have you wasting a drop of this.” The boy grumbled shaking his head as he used two fingers to bring his come back into your pussy.

Your body jumped as his fingers pushed back into you “what are you doing?” You asked blinking at him as he hovered over you “making up for lost time.” The hockey player explained letting his cock tease your clit again.

For now you were going to enjoy this, because it two weeks you were back at the lake house.

Where everything as you knew it would change, forever.

[momojedi]

— LOSS topic. hunter x gn! jedi! reader

**

type. one shot note. this is just a small drabble while i finish all the other requests i've gotten! yes, another tlou reference. my fist hunter fanfic and obviously its angst, ugh. this is set a while after omega's abduction. tech is alive. reader met the remaining batch while they were out scavenging for any intel on omega's location - they don't know about who they're looking for specifically, not her importance. warnings. angst, argument, hurt/no comfort, kidnapping word count. 1,135

star wars masterlist || pinned post

10%

I feel the familiar knot of anger boil in the pits of my stomach. It's been a little over a month since I decided to fall in with the three mercenaries that had happened to go after the same bounty as me. It was only when we had settled on splitting the credits that my blood had run cold the second their helmets were off. It had taken Hunter a lot of patience and persuasion to finally get me to lower my lightsaber.

Hunter and I had quickly clicked from then on. But as time passed, I noticed more and more how protective he became of me, giving me little room to breathe and jumping in to defend me despite knowing I could handle myself. When Tech told me about Omega, the girl they'd ben so invested in finding, my heart broke for him. A father figure and his daughter separated by a gruesome Empire? I quickly took pity on him, tried to accommodate his behaviour but when he'd taken a blaster shot for me during a difficult mission, I cracked. I'd screamed at him, scolded him for putting himself in danger for me before storming off, the desperation in his eyes burning itself into my mind.

I've been hiding in the Marauder ever since, trying my best to avoid Hunter in the guise of assisting Tech and Echo in their research while listening to Wrecker's quiet chewing as he devours ration bar after ration bark, much to his brothers' annoyance. But of course, he won't let that slide.

"[Name]?" I bite my tongue when I hear the creaking of the metal steps under his weight as he steps into the shuttle. I'm not sure I can stand looking at his hurt expression, nor the dent in his armour where the shot had hit. So, I sigh.

"I know about Omega, Hunter."

Hunter freezes when her name falls from my lips and suddenly the air grows tense. "What?" His voice is shaking, as if it were still trying to grasp a sense of understanding on what I just said. I sigh, setting down the datapad as the download I was previously supervising proceeds.

20%

"Tech," I explain, rising from my seat and motioning toward said man who curiously enough started burying his face in his own datapad, "he told me about her and━" "[Name]." I stop dead in my tracks. Never has my name been spat harsher than it now. Hunter's eyes are shut, brows furrowed as he speaks with a precision that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His tone is dangerous, almost threatening when he finally opens his eyes again, the usual warmth in his gaze gone.

"You are treading on some mighty thin ice there."

I bite my inner cheek, letting out a deep sigh before crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm sorry about her, Hunter, I really am," I hesitate for a second before meeting his eyes again, "But I have lost people, too."

30%

Hunter stares, a cold and piercing glare that I hardly withstand. He's seething, fists clenched at his side. Then, he opens his mouth and my heart stops━

"You have no idea what loss is."

My mouth goes dry. Echo takes in a sharp breath. Tech awkwardly clears his throat. The loud clang of Gonky landing on the ground makes it clear even Wrecker is taken back.

"What?" It's more of a heartbroken grasp for reality than a question but I speak it anyways. Hunter remains quiet. "Hunter, I... Are you serious?"

40%

I didn't break away from society, didn't remain on the run, didn't lay low for months to be met with this. I know Hunter's words are lead by pure despair and fury toward the Empire, yet they still affected me. And so they did, badly. Echo set his healthy hand on the sergeant's shoulder. "Hunter, I think that's enough━"

"No," I bark, dashing forward and driving an accusatory finger into Hunter's chest plate, "No, you listen here and you listen good. Everyone I have ever cared for, my master, my troops, my friends - all of them have either died being slaughtered by the Empire, or left me." A familiar wetness forms in the corner of my eyes as I blink back the tears. "All except for you!"

50%

I swallow the lump in my throat as my voice breaks into a sob. "So don't act like you can't be taken away from me, too, because truth is, it just hurts me more."

Silence fills the Marauder once more. I can practically feel the tension radiating off Hunter as he watches me. Finally, he moves, but his action brings more harm than good. He turns away from me. Before disappearing into the cockpit though, he halts and faces the side to look at me over his shoulder.

"You're right. I don't have to protect you. You're not our family, after all," he stops, letting the words sink in. Then, he shoots his final bullet, sure to leave a deep scar, "We're dropping you off on Koboh. From here on out, we'll be going our separate ways."

Download cancelled!

Then, the door slides shut behind him. I remain frozen on the spot, the stares of the other batch members fading into the background along with the datapad subtle beeping as the download stops. Echo is the first to move. "I'll go talk to him." When he too disappears into the cockpit, Wrecker is the second to find his voice. "It'll be fine," he tries to reassure me, laying a comforting hand on my back, "it's a hard topic for him, just ... give him some time."

The air around me suddenly feels stuffy, rendering it hard to breathe. I barely excuse myself and leave behind a confused Wrecker and a perplexed Tech as I rush outside. I don't hold back, stumbling through the woods, away from the shuttle, from the Batch, from Hunter. Away from everything.

It's only after nearing a cliff at the edge of the forest that I stop, catching my breath and falling to my knees. My stomach churns as I feel my world fall apart. The last time I've felt like that, I watched my fellow Jedi be slaughtered by their own men. I bury my face in my hands, salty tears clinging to my palms.

As my surroundings are darkened, I barely detect the imperial shuttle closing in on me from above. Only when the lamps power on, throwing a blinding light on me, I look up before swiftly being caught off-guard as the electrified net lands on me, partially knocking me out. Steps. A shadow looms over me, modulated voice barely drowned out by the shuttle's noise.

"Sir, we found the Jedi."

[veronicaphoenix]

zutto — chapter five | wc: 6.5k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

chapter summary: as night settles in and the rain pours on, Lia finally says the three magic words

tags and trigger warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, noah making jokes about cucumbers, noah being jealous of brad pitt, mentions of noah's nightmares and references to everything that's happened until now, specifically lia's drinking habits, sexual content including dry humping, oral sex (male rec.), swallowing, one mention of choking, mentions of birth control pills, and p in v (unprotected).

general trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

💫 @bluestdai precious fanart of noah and lia in this chapter

The storm was still pounding hard on the apartment windows by the time Noah came out of the shower.

            In fact, it seemed to have gotten worse. Noah didn’t remember seeing on the news that such a downpour was going to hit, but at the same time, it’s not like he’d been paying much attention to the weather either when all he’d been focused on was Lia. 

            And Lia continued to be the center of his attention as he shamelessly walked out of the bathroom naked and into the bedroom.

            He could hear her in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards as she decided what to make for dinner. They could have ordered something, but they’d already used that option several times since returning to Los Angeles. Besides, with the weather outside, it didn’t seem wise to bother the delivery people. 

            His eyes fell on Lia’s bra, still lying forgotten on the floor beside the bed. Smiling to himself, Noah picked it up and placed it on the dresser where he’d had Lia sitting a while before, as he kissed her and she squeezed her legs around it. He remembered how she had kissed him, her legs wrapped around him. After pampering and cleaning her in bed, Lia had put on one of his T-shirts, slipped back into her panties, and donned some socks. Noah had then gone to take a shower. 

            Nearby, he spotted the empty condom packet and tossed it into the small wastebasket in the corner. He dressed in a white T-shirt and joggers before crossing the hallway to the kitchen. As he approached, Lia looked up, her expression lighting up. 

            “Hi,” Noah said, leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining area. 

            Lia had trouble looking away, admiring how handsome he looked with his damp hair and fresh scent. She had pulled her hair into a messy bun, but her flushed cheeks and the mix of sweetness and mischief in her eyes reminded Noah of a little girl who had just been kissed by the boy he liked. Unable to resist, he leaned toward her, resting his forearms on the marble countertop. He lifted her chin with two fingers and kissed her. 

            The kiss was brief but left a lingering warmth. When Lia pulled away, the sensation of Noah’s lips and fingers remained with her. Noah watched as she licked her lips, contemplating whether to take her back to the room or let her eat something first. 

            “You don’t taste like rain anymore,” Lia said, interrupting his thoughts. 

            “Ah, no? What do I taste like?”

            “Like Noah.”

            His smile broadened. 

            He moved around the counter to stand beside her, trying to keep the lingering euphoria in check as he scanned her bare legs. Picking up a piece of carrot Lia had been chopping, he playfully asked, “And now? Carrot?” 

            Lia’s laughter filled the kitchen as he kissed her again. Her joy warmed his heart.  

            “Can you grab the cucumber from the fridge?” Lia requested.

            “Sure thing,” Noah replied, retrieving the cucumber. “I didn’t realize it was that big when we bought it,” he teased, pretending to examine the vegetable closely.

            Lia rolled her eyes with a chuckle, her cheeks warming as she took the cucumber from him. 

            “What are you making?” Noah asked, glancing at the pot of boiling water on the stove.

            “Rice,” Lia replied. “I don’t want to upset my stomach. Is rice with chicken okay for dinner?”

            “Yes, that’s fine. Are you having a stomachache?” Noah’s concern was evident in the way he narrowed his eyes at her. 

            “No, just being cautious.”

            “Hm. And what’s that smell?” he inquired, scrunching his nose in curiosity as he looked back towards the stove. 

            “I added cumin seeds. They’re good for digestion.” 

            “Smells good.”

            "Uh-huh.”

            “I’m sure Davis’ used those before.”

            “Likely. Could you hand me the nuts from the cupboard behind you?”

            “Of course.” Before doing so, Noah leaned over and gave her a resounding kiss on the top of her head. Lia’s face flushed with a mix of surprise and delight as she began to cut into the cucumber. Although she was accostumed to his affection, she was aware that after that day, the line she had been so afraid to cross was now behind them. She would have to adjust to these new habits: Noah stroking her hair while she drew, her rubbing his leg under the table in public, sharing mischievous glances in crowded rooms, and exchanging kisses during mundane moments around the house. 

            A surge of happiness washed over her. As she continued with her task, she clung to that happiness, promising herself she would never let it go. 

            Together, they finished preparing dinner and ate with the rain and thunder as their backdrop. They chatted about the weather and other trivial matters. As expected, Lia brought up work and mentioned the trip to Japan. Noah steered the conversation away from becoming an argument by promising they would discuss it the next day, but not that night. 

            After dinner, Noah offered to do the dishes. Lia cleared the table and, once done, moved towards the bathroom for a quick visit before settling on the couch to watch a movie and fall asleep in Noah’s arms. However, as she took two steps out of the kitchen, she felt a tug on her shirt. Turning around, she saw that Noah had grabbed the stitching of her shirt and wasn’t letting go. 

            “What?” Lia asked. 

            Noah raised his eyebrows and said, “Give me a kiss.”

            The intensity of his gaze had grown since they’d made love, and the fluttering butterflies in his stomach had quickened. Lia’s confusing faded, replaced by a warm smile that spread across her face, turning her uncertainty into joy. 

            “Okay,” she replied, stepping closer and tilting her head up to meet Noah’s lips. He placed a gentle hand on her waist while his other hand held a plate. 

            “Get used to this,” Noah told her after pulling away. “I’m not letting you go anywhere without a kiss first, got it?”

            If Lia’s smile could have gotten any bigger, it would have. 

            “Understood.”

            Seeing her cheeks flush, Noah continued, “Gotta make up for all the ones we’ve missed.”

            Lia frowned in mock concern and replied in a low voice, “That’s going to be… a lot of them.”

            “Then we’d better start making up for them,” he concluded, dropping the dish he’d been washing. With suds-covered hands, he pulled Lia’s cheeks towards him and kissed her again. Lia’s giggles vibrated against Noah’s lips, and he felt the water from his wet hand slide down her cheek. 

            When they broke apart, Noah reveled in the fact that he was the one who could make Lia, whom he’d known all his life, so flushed.

            He pretended to focus on washing the dishes, saying to Lia, “I think you’ve got some suds on your face,” while gesturing to his own cheek. He let Lia turn away and lose herself in the hallway.  

            She was so consumed by love that after disappearing in the hallway she had to stop for a moment and steady herself against the wall.

            When she emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, the aroma of popcorn filled the house. Lia found Noah sprawled on the couch, legs outstretched, feet resting on a cushion on the coffee table. The TV displayed the Netflix home screen. 

            “I’ve made popcorn,” Noah announced, pointing to the bowl next to him. 

            “I can see that,” Lia replied, walking over and taking a seat beside him. 

            She couldn’t recall the last time Noah had seemed so relaxed. Even during the days they’d spent in her apartment, sheltered from the outside world, the tension had been palpable in his behavior. Despite their attempts to relax with movies, books, and tending to Lia’s flowers, Noah’s posture always hinted at worry, his attention frequently elsewhere. 

            As Lia settled next to him, she didn’t realize that that night, their focus would shift away from the movie and onto something much more comforting than the concerns that had weighed on them recently. 

            “Do you have any preference?” Lia asked, referring to the movie. 

            Noah shook his head. “Anything, but don’t make it sad.” 

            Lia leered at him a conflicted half-smile. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and perched on the edge of the couch as she navigated through Netflix. 

            Behind her, Noah’s eyes fell on her hair. She still wore it in a bun, exposing her neck, but a few strands had come loose. As his eyes traced down her back, almost smiling at how oversized his T-shirt looked on her, Noah couldn’t help but reach out and gently stroke one of the loose strands of hair.              

            Lia took a deep breath, struggling not to melt under his touch. She feared becoming like a lovesick teenager, but she let Noah touch her hair. As she pretended to be engrossed in choosing a film, Noah’s fingers continued to graze the stray strands of her hair before moving to trace gentle lines down her back over the fabric of his T-shirt. 

            “Are you feeling better?” Noah’s voice cut through the hushed tranquility of the apartment, his concern soft but clear amidst the rain against the windows. 

            Lia nodded, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze when she felt his fingers stop the patterns they’ve been tracing at her back. “I have a slight headache, but I can barely feel it,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of weariness but also relief. 

            Noah’s brow furrowed as his fingers resumed their soothing trail along her back. “Aren’t you tired? The withdrawal episode was pretty rough. And after that, we were cooped up in the room for a while.”

            Lia shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I might fall asleep ten minutes into the movie,” she admitted. “But I’m not sleepy—at least not yet—, which is strange.” 

            “We can go straight to bed if you need,” Noah suggested. 

            “No,” Lia replied, her hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn. “I feel like being here.” She popped a handful into her mouth, then glanced at him. “Should I bring something to drink?”

            “No, stay here,” he said, his tone dismissive.

            As Lia hit play and leaned back on the couch, the ambient light from the screen flickered softly around them, creating a warm glow. Noah wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her snugly against him. Lia curled up beside him, her legs folded beneath her, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. 

            “You don’t think about drinking at all?” Noah’s voice was barely a whisper, a low murmur that seemed to blend with the gentle patter of rain. 

            Lia sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly. Her eyes were fixed on the tv screen, where the familiar Tristar Pictures logo began to dissolve into the opening scenes. “I know it sounds hard to believe, but ever since I woke up in the hospital, every time I think about alcohol, I feel a wave of disgust. It’s not that I haven’t thoguht about dirnking—I have. I just wouldn’t do it now, but I’m worried. I’m scared that once all this calms down… I’m afraid this will be temporary. And if that needs come back along with the withdrawal symptoms…”

            “Whether it’s temporary or not, we’ll deal with it together,” Noah reassured her. “No matter what.”

            Lia lifted her chin and gave him a tender, grateful smile. “I know.”

            Noah kissed her forehead before sinking deeper into the couch, adjusting his position to make her as comfortable as possible. “What movie did you choose?”

            “Legends of the Fall.”

            Noah raised an eyebrow in mock exasperation. “Brad Pitt again?” 

            “What do you mean, again? I can’t even remember the last time I saw a movie with Brad Pitt in it,” Lia retorted, a playful edge in her voice. 

            Noah made a grand, exaggerated gesture of annoyance, raising his eyes theatrically to the ceiling. Lia pulled away slightly and scowled at him, unable to supress a giggle. 

            “Are you jealous, is that it?” 

            “Me? Jealous of Brad Pitt? He’d probably enjoy that.”

            Lia laughed, and Noah, seizing the opportunity, slid his arm down to her waist and attempted to tickle her. Lia squirmed and laughed louder, gasping as she tried to get his hands off of her. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

            After that, they settled into a placid time, the movie playing softly as the rain outside continued to fall, its rhythmic drumming blending with the flicker of the screen and making Noah and Lia’s effortless intimacy even sweeter. 

            Lia felt the rise and fall of Noah’s chest beneath her cheek, her hand resting on his thigh. Noah felt content; lost in the serene bliss of having Lia so close. He’d spent months —years, possibly— longing and dreaming of moments like this. The sight of her next to him, the ease with which they fit together, the memories of being inside of her and seeing his love reflected in her eyes, was a treasure he knew he would never take for granted. 

            Contrary to her earlier predictions, Lia remained awake as the film progressed. Her gaze drifted from the screen to her hand resting on Noah’s thigh. A subtle movement of her fingers, a gentle caress against the fabric of his sweatpants, distracted her. She wasn’t sure if she was more absorbed in the finger-dance she herself started or in the knowledge that she had her hand very close to Noah’s crotch.   

            As her thoughts drifted, she remembered the pleasure Noah had given her in bed, how it had allowed her to focus solely on the rhythm of their bodies moving together. It had been a welcome distraction from the pain she’d felt before, when her body had longed for a pill that would have done nothing to help. 

            But their lovemaking hadn’t been a mere temporary fix. It had been an act that solidified what had always existed between them and promised to be repeated in the future. 

            So, Lia found herself completely disengaged from the movie. Her hands, almost at their own accord, crawled towards Noah’s crotch. The moment she rested her hand on top of it, she felt his cock twitch beneath her fingers. 

            Noah, who had been making an effort to keep his attention on the film and resist the temptation of Lia’s touch, was interrupted when she touched him there. He looked at her, her large brown eyes brimming with a magical allure that always made his heart flutter. When Lia’s fingers moved to encircle the rapidly growing bulge in his sweats, Noah abandoned the movie entirely.  

            He set the popcorn bowl aside and pulled Lia onto his lap, her legs straddling him as her hands grasped his cheeks to draw him closer. Their lips met in a desperate kiss, as if the calm of the room had been merely a prelude to the passion that would consume them not long after right there. 

            Their breaths quickened with each brush of their lips, the playful dance of their tongues, and the fervent grip of their hands on each other’s bodies. Lia arched her body against Noah’s, pressing her chest into his. Her fingers glided down the back of his neck before returning to his face. She yearned to touch him everywhere, to feel every inch of his skin. Despite Noah’s hands holding her—one on her waist and the other one cradling her head, pressing her against him—Lia showed no intention of letting go. She tightened her grip behind his head, using the press of her mouth against his to convey that she didn’t want to be even an inch away.

            For a fleeting moment, as she heard a moan escape Noah’s lips, Lia opened her eyes. It was a brief second, but it was enough to send an electric thrill through her body. Seein Noah’s closed eyes and feeling his deep, passionate intentions toward her intensified her desire for him. 

            She relaxed in his arms, rubbing against him. A couple of hours earlier, she might have felt self-conscious about this, but now she was beyond caring. 

            She moved her hips against him, feeling Noah’s erection grow beneath her with each motion, warming her. Noah’s fingers fumbled with her hair stick, removing it and allowing her long hair to cascade freely. The scent of her shampoo enveloped his senses. Lia was all he could feel, smell, and breathe. He didn’t want it any other way. He caressed her hair, letting the strands slide through his fingers. 

            To his surprise, Lia pressed her body fully against him and grabbed his hair, tilting his head back and causing him to arch his neck. Without hesitation, Lia kissed her way down his jaw and chin until she reached his neck, where she nibbled on the red apple tattooed on his skin. 

            “Fuck, Lia.” His voice was restrained with pleasure. He melted beneath her, breathing softly in her ear, making a sound that seemed divinely orchestrated. 

            Lia continued to explore his neck, her lips trailing feather-light kisses. Her hands remained tangled in his hair while the other slid down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. 

            Althought Noah had drawn the curtains on the balcony doors, a small gap remained uncovered. If Lia had looked that side, she would have seen her reflection—straddling noah while he reclined on the sofa, his profile illuminated by the soft light of a lamp in the corner, next to a strelitzia that Lia had tended to for over a year. 

            The tattoo on Noah’s neck seemed to writhe over his flexing tendons, its spirals a warning against anyone daring to disturb its owner. Lia lingered on the snake’s head before slowly moving up his neck and jaw, leaving a trail of delicate kisses. 

            When Lia released his hair, she moved back up to his mouth, mesmerized by the rhythm of Noah’s breathing. He lifted his head slightly, one hand slipping inside her shirt to rest on her side before moving to her neck, drawing her face closer to his. Lia watched as he closed his eyes and moistened his lower lip with a quick lick. He brushed his lips against hers with incredible softness, breaking contact for a few seconds and creating a tantalizing anticipation. With a slight tilt of his head, he lingered just out of reach. Lia felt gloriously overwhelmed when their lips finally met again, in a kiss so tender and unbearably slow that she felt like she was drowning in it, savoring the salty taste of the popcorn he had been enjoying.

            Gradually, Lia began to move against him with increasing fervor, driven by an energy she couldn’t quite pinpoint but knew she needed. She was desperate to feel Noah inside her again. While she was confident Noah would give her what she wanted, she didn’t want to rush. She was savoring the dance, and Noah was clearly enjoying it too.

            As her hands slid down his chest, expressing her desire to touch him, she pulled at his shirt. Noah lifted his arms obligingly, allowing Lia to remove it. Her lips immediately claimed his once he was shirtless, and Lia’s body responded to his nudity with euphoric intensity. Noah could feel her nipples hardening as she rubbed against him like a cat in heat.

            Driven by his most primal instincts, Noah grabbed a handful of Lia’s hair, kissing her with hunger. His cock throbbed in his pants, craving more attention than the heat of Lia’s groin. Noah’s fingers dug into her waist.

            However, in the midst of that moment, a memory struck him—his nightmare from the previous night, where he had been holding Lia so tightly he’d hurt her. His heart lurched in his chest. As Lia’s hand slid down his stomach and she nibbled on his lip, he almost stopped her, fearing he might be hurting her, someway, somehow. 

            Before he could react, Lia detached her lips from his and, in less than three seconds, slid off the sofa to kneel between his legs, her hands working on the knot of his sweatpants. Noah stared, stunned for a moment, his breathing ragged. Then, as the scene unfolded before him, he realized it wasn’t a nightmare. 

            It was a fantasy coming to life. 

            When Lia looked up at him, almost seeking permission, Noah noticed her flushed cheeks and a hint of embarrassment. She tugged at his pants, nonetheless, and Noah lifted his hips to help her remove them alongside his boxers. 

            Noah, breathless and overwhelmed, felt a rush of heat as Lia took him into her mouth. A curse caught in his throat as he let his head fall back against the sofa, consumed by the sensation of her fingers wrapped around the base. Her teasing licks sent shivers through him before she settled into a steady rhythm. Noah’s hand instinctively moved to her hair, and he tugged gently, his moans escaping uncontrollably. Unable to look away, he watched Lia kneeling before him, each pulse within her mouth heightening his pleasure. Lia, absorbed in the salty taste and strength of him against her lips, found the reality of being with him this way better than she’d ever imagined, though a flutter of doubt lingered in her mind. 

            Noah gathered Lia’s hair in his hands, his fingers brushing through the strands that framed her face. Lia was so absorbed in the need to please him and the softness of his touch that she wasn’t sure if his murmured encouragments were real or a figment of her imagination. Her fantasies seemed to blend with the sensations of the moment. 

            Overcome by a moment of insecurity, Lia paused, drawing a deep breath as she looked at the flushed tip and the veins tracing his length. He was breathtakingly beautiful. Noah’s hands fell from her hair. Lia placed her hands on his knees and met his gaze. 

            “Lia? What’s wrong?” Noah asked. Had he tugged to hard at her hair? Pushed himself to deep? Overwhelmed her? 

            Before he could voice his worries, Lia spoke softly, almost embarrased, “I’ve never–I’ve never swallowed.”

            If he was shocked by her confession, he didn’t show it. 

            “Lia, that’s okay. You don’t have to. It’s fine. You’re already—”

            “But I want to,” she cut him off, her big brown eyes starting up at him with such adoration that his cock twitched on its own. The realization of her wanting him to release in her mouth had his heart racing. 

            “I just—I might have to—” she trailed off, unsure how to express what she meant. Noah understood immediately and shook his head. 

            “It’s okay,” he reassured her. 

            “Can you just—not hold my head when you come?”

            “Of course. Whatever you want. But I swear I’d be happy with just—”

            She didn’t give him time to finish. Her mouth was back on him, and Noah swallowed hard, trying futilely to grip the sofa. He knew he wouldn’t last long. He had imagined Lia sucking him off countless times, but he hadn’t expected it to happen tonight. He would have been happy just making her feel good, but it was clear now that in their relationship, they were both equally interested in providing each other with as much pleasure as possible.

            Two minutes into it, Lia licked his frenulum with a teasing touch that Noah had never experienced before.

            “Wha—Fuck. Lia—Fuck.” His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, making him buck his hips involuntarily.

            She gagged slightly as she felt his warmth spreading along his length until it reached the tip. His release filled Lia’s mouth and the back of her throat. The new experience, the taste, was overwhelming, but she forced herself to stay calm. She slowly released Noah from her mouth and swallowed, ignoring his intense gaze, as if he were worried he might come again just by watching her. Lia stood up and hurried to the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of water and drank it in one go. Noah’s eyes stayed on her the whole time, even though he was sprawled on the couch, completely satisfied. 

            Lia took a deep breath as she set down the glass of water and smiled.

            “You okay?” Noah asked, amused, trying to recover his breath. 

            “Yeah,” she breathed out, catching her own breath. “Do you want some?” She lifted her now-empty glass. 

            “Yes, that’d be great.”

            She refilled her glass and poured another one for him. When he took it from her hand, he gulped it down and set it on the coffee table. Lia stood in front of him, eyeing the last drips of him that had come out. 

            “Do you need anything else?” 

            “Yes,” he said. “You.”

            He grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled her astride his lap, making her let out an adorable squeal. Before attacking her mouth, he grabbed the TV remote and switched off the movie that had been playing in the background. 

            “Fuck Brad Pitt,” he sentenced. 

            Lia’s mouth was hot, her lips slippery. 

            Lia’s clothes disappeared in no time—her socks, t-shirt, and panties scattered on the living room floor. 

            Noah’s lips traveled across her face, down her neck and chest, nibbling at her breasts and giving her nipples the attention they demanded. He was already hard again, and Lia would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a hint of pride in getting Noah so excited twice in less than five minutes. 

            Noah wrapped his arms around her and tried to move them so he could lay her down, but Lia pressed her hands on his shoulders and leaned her body weight against him, grounding him. 

            “I want to do it like this,” she said. 

            At this point, Noah was convinced he had been granted the greatest gift on earth. Lia wanted to ride him. There was no way he was going to deny her that. 

            “I’m all yours.”

            He slid down a bit, reclining his head and body so that he was half lying down, half sitting, but comfortably. This position would also give him a great view of her as she moved on top of him. His hands never left Lia’s hips. 

            “Condom?” he asked. 

            Lia’s eyes shot up. She glanced over her shoulder as if trying to recall if she had any condoms left anywhere in the house. She muttered a soft curse. “That was the last one,” she acknowledged, a hint of worry in her voice. Noah’s thumbs stroked her thighs. 

            “You’re not on the pill, are you?” he asked. 

            Lia shook her head. With all the medication she had been taking, one good thing was that she didn’t add another. Condoms had always been sufficient. 

            “I’m clean,” Noah said, hesitation in his voice. “I’m not saying it because I…”

            “I’m good, too.”

            “Lia…” he said, a warning in his tone. 

            “I don’t mind, really. I’d love to feel you like this. As long as… you know, just…”

            Noah nodded fervently, “I will.” 

            He fused his mouth with hers. 

            He had chosen her. Out of all the women—and men—at his feet, he had chosen her. A rockstar like him, with his bank account growing by the day, could have had anything, but he had chosen her. It had always been her. 

            “You’re going to spoil me, you know that?” Noah said. 

            “Maybe you deserve to be spoiled.” 

            She slowly sank onto him, her face contorting into an expression of blissful pleasure, mirroring Noah’s. She fit so well around him. 

            Just like that, she began a decadent dance on top of him, making the temperature in the room rise and their bodies start to glisten with a thin layer of sweat as they provided each other with pleasure not only through their bodies but also with the sounds escaping their mouths.

            Occasionally, Noah would grab Lia by the hair and pull her closer to kiss her, unable to stay away from her even while inside her.

            At one point, with their breathing calming, Lia rested her head on his shoulder. Her skin was flushed, and Noah’s kisses on her other shoulder and the caresses of his hands sliding up and down her back didn’t soothe her; they only heightened her arousal. Noah kissed her neck, lingering there longer than usual to leave a mark that would be visible for the next few days.

            “Tired?” he asked after noticing her movements had slowed.

            “Yeah,” she admitted, her breath heavy against his shoulder. “It’s been a long day.”

            He gently lifted his hips, his hands guiding her as he took control. As he eased her down onto him, she let out a deep sigh, her eyes fluttering closed in response.

            “I want to pleasure you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

            “What makes you think you’re not?” he countered, his tone light yet sincere. “You could be out in the garden, pulling weeds, and I’d still find pleasure just watching you. Don’t be silly, Lia.”

            His words seemed to drift away as her focus narrowed to the intense feeling of him filling her completely. Drawing on her remaining energy, she braced herself by placing her hands on his chest. Her expression was a mix of determination and fatigue.

            “As you wish,” Noah said with a resigned smile, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender. 

            He observed her intently, his gaze tracing the subtle signs of her fatigue. The once-lively spark in her eyes was now dulled, overshadowed by a weariness that clung to her features. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps, and her shoulders drooped slightly, as if the weight of her exhaustion had become almost tangible. Her movements, once fluid and confident, had slowed to a laborious rhythm, each shift of her body marked by a visible strain. The effort was etched in the way her brow furrowed and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Noah’s concern deepened as he noticed the tremor in her hands and the slight unsteadiness in her posture, the kind that spoke of both physical and emotional fatigue. 

            “Lia, stop for a moment,” he said, his hands gently gripping her hips. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. It’s not necessary. Try just moving your hips and let the rest of your body relax. Can you do that?”

            She nodded. Slowly, she began to shift her movements. With a deep breath, she eased herself up and then lowered her hips, her motions turning softer and controlled. Her body felt heavy, but she managed to find a rhythm, focusing on the subtle undulations of her hips rather than the whole of her being. Each descent was measured, the motion more fluid and less strained than before. She let her upper body remain still, leaning into his touch for support, while her hips did the work, creating a gentle, rolling rhythm against him. Her breathing steadied as she adjusted, her movements becoming a blend of exhaustion and desire, finding a delicate balance that allowed her to continue without overexertion.

            Noah’s hands remained steady on her hips, guiding her with a supportive touch, and his gaze softened as he watched her, appreciating the effort she put into adjusting her dance.

            “Feels good?”

            “I feel full,” she replied. 

            Full of me, Noah thought. 

         She looked so beautiful on top of him, with her head thrown back, neck exposed, lips parted, and the little furrow between her brows that told him she was lost in pleasure. He felt an intense urge to wrap his hand around her neck and apply just enough pressure to elevate her pleasure to new heights, but he hesitated. Knowing her past made him wary of pushing her boundaries. Instead, he let his fingers trail gently down her chin, neck, and chest. Her long hair, cascading over her shoulders and down her back, framed her as she moved her hips in seductive circles. 

            He knew there wasn’t anything in this world he wouldn’t do for her—his girl.

            They loved being in each other’s arms. It didn’t feel unfamiliar. It was comfortable and nice. If Lia had felt any shyness or inhibition about being naked and on top of him, it was gone. With the press of her palms on his chest, she helped herself move up and down on Noah’s cock, much to his pleasure. It was one thing to be inside of her, and another to see her use him to pleasure herself. She looked like a goddess on top of him, stunningly beautiful with her hair flowing freely. When she threw her head back one more time with a long moan, her lips red from his kisses, he grunted and his hips lifted uncontrollably, earning a follow-up cry of pleasure from Lia.

            She tightened around him in a way that nearly left him breathless. His brows furrowed, his body tensing.

            “What did you…? How did you do that? Fuck,” he managed, his voice thick with surprise.

            She did it again and smiled wickedly at his expression.

            “Are you trying to kill me? Is that what you’re doing?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and challenge. Then he pounded into her hard, once, twice.

            Lia smiled widely. 

            “What are you smiling at, huh?” Noah asked, one hand sliding up to flick her nipple with two fingers.  

            “Nothing,” she replied with a smirk.

            “Nothing? You know exactly what you’re doing.”

            He thrust all the way in again, making her breath catch in her throat. She gripped his shoulders, her body surrendering to the overwhelming sensation of him buried deep inside her. 

            “Noah…”

            Both their orgasms were imminent. 

            A few more thrusts, their movements growing increasingly sloppy, and Lia announced she was about to come. The knowledge sent a jolt of excitement through Noah, his heart racing and his cock responding with fierce urgency. Lia clenched around him, rubbing her clit with the tips of three fingers, her moans building in intensity.

            Just as her cries reached a fever pitch, a particularly heavy clap of thunder roared outside, its explosive sound nearly drowning out her primal scream, the thunderous crack coinciding perfectly with Lia’s climax. She exploded in a wave of ecstasy, her cries mingling with the storm’s fury, as if nature itself was echoing the intensity of her release.

            Noah, driven by the electric energy of the moment, gripped her hips roughly and thrust into her with a raw, relentless rhythm. The thunder outside seemed to be in sync with his movements, each rumble intensifying his own impending orgasm. With a final, forceful thrust, he reached his peak, his body convulsing in a series of spasms as he pulled out of Lia, lifting her effortlesly from him. He unloaded himself onto his own stomach, a restrained wail escaping his lips, barely audible over the storm’s roar. 

            Breathing heavily, he drew her close, careful not to get her dirty with his come. Their movements were weary but the affection was still present. He kissed her, his touch tender despite the explosive moment they had shared. His hand moved to brush the hair from her face, revealing her post-orgasmic glow. She looked radiant—exhausted but deeply satisfied. 

            Outside, the storm continued to rage, its fury unrelenting. The heavy thunder that had marked their climaxes now became a distant rumble, a lingering reminder of the night’s dramatic and passionate intensity. Lia carefully turned around and reached for the box of tissues on the coffee table, her movements slow. With a slight grimace of effort, she grabbed a few tissues and returned to him.  She began to clean him. The soft rustle of the tissues and their quiet breaths filled the room, the rain and thunder background music.

            As she worked, a hint of wistfulness crossed her face. “Do you remember...” Her expression was bittersweet, as if she was wrestling with her own emotions. Noah’s gaze shifted from her fingers, carefully wiping the last traces of his release with a crumpled tissue, to the way her lashes cast shadows over her eyes. “The night we had sex—drunk sex,” she clarified, avoiding his eyes. “It was also raining.” 

            Noah’s gaze softened as he took in the reminiscence. 

            “I remember,” he said, his voice low and reflective. He placed his hands on her hips and begand rawing circles with his thumbs, sensing how she relaxed under his touch. “Maybe the rain knew all along… It knew this was meant to be, you and me.”

            “Then it had more clarity than I did,” she replied, a trace of frustration in her voice as she chided herself.

            Determined not to let Lia’s demons intrude, he sat upright and lifted her, instructing her to lie down and relax. He placed her back on the sofa, picking another tissue to wipe her before he took the rest of tissues from her hands and walked to the kitchen to dispose of them.  

            When he returned, he found her lying on the couch, utterly spent. Her body was relaxed, one of her hands grazing her clavicle, her legs bent comfortably with her feet flat on the cushions. He sat down beside her, a satisfied smile gracing his features. With an almost reverent touch, he extended his arm and placed his hand on her stomach, starting to run his fingers up and down in an hypnotizing pattern. His expression changed, softening as he took in the sight of her, vulnerable and serene. The warmth shared, the scent of their coupling, and the gentle rain outside made the room feel like a safe haven.

            “Lia, I need to hear you say it,” he said then, softly, his voice rich with earnestness.

            She paused, taking in his request. It took her a moment to speak, not out of doubt but because she wanted to convey the full depth of her feelings. It was the first time she would vocalize them, and she wanted him to fully grasp the significance of her words.  

            After a deep, steadying breath, she finally said, “I love you, Noah.”

            The way he smiled then could’ve stopped wars.

            Moments later, he lifted her off the sofa, eliciting a surprised little scream from her.   

            “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and excitement.

            “To the bedroom,” he replied. “So I can keep loving you. Think you can give me a fourth one?” His hand slid down to her bottom, giving it a gentle, affectionate pat, as his question vibrated in her ear. 

            She nestled against his neck, a mix of sleepiness and joy washing over her. “That depends on your performance,” she murmured, fully aware of how her words would tease him.

            “On my performance?” He said, souding both incredulous and slightly amused. His tone shifted to a teasing lilt. “Seems like you haven’t seen me on stage.”

            Lia giggled against his shoulder.

            “I have… But you might have to remind me,” she replied with a mischievous glint in her eye.

            He carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. He turned her onto her stomach and dove straight into her left buttock, nibbling and growling playfully. Her laughter bubbled up as she lifted herself on her forearms, watching him over her shoulder. Her gaze was filled with both trust and desire as he positioned himself behind her.

            “With pleasure.”

— prev. chapter | chapter six

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@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @xcllnt | @bluestdai

If there's anyone I'm forgetting or that wants to be added to the taglist, please let me know 🥰

[the-kr8tor]

Go by the Board

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mentions, TW violence, CW injury, TW blood, TW death, CW needles.

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Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

CHAPTER 4 >>> CHAPTER 5

The bandages around your wrists itch, you try not to scratch the annoying feeling away knowing infection on a ship could be deadly for you. Frozen in a fetal position, your legs tucked under the dust covered blankets, you focus on the locked door, the silver pendant hanging on the doorknob sways as the boat rocks in the wild waves.

You've only slept for a few hours following what you've witnessed, the sailor's screams still echo in your mind, clawing and gnawing at your skull. You try not to think about it, pushing the image of him writhing on the blood soaked floorboards.

Maybe it's better if you don't think about it, ever. Scrubbing it from your mind, you exhale a shaky breath, fingers twitching to scratch that annoying itch.

Why is it so fucking itchy? Your nose itches. Why does everything in this damned room smell old? The small cabin seems to swallow you whole as you lay on the unusually soft mattress. You twist and turn, kicking the blankets away in frustration. Your head pounds from the oncoming headache.

Gritting your teeth, you hear gasps and pained yells from outside. There's something dragging under the sound of curses. You sit up, your eyes feel heavy, it seems like your brain is trying to escape from you. You don't blame it.

You do your best at trying to look normal, well normal for someone who hasn't slept for more than four hours for two days straight. Straightening your back, the noises stop right at your door.

There's shuffling then the clinking of keys, the door bursts open, a man stumbles inside, landing harshly on his face. You recognize the navy lieutenant, his hands and feet bound. His once pristine uniform slashed and dirtied with drying blood. His shiny medals are nowhere to be found.

You lift your feet up on the bed, shielding yourself, wide eyes staring at the captain who looks worse than you. Hobie's still wearing the exact same clothes he wore during the battle, cotton shirt marred by crimson and tattered at the seams, his eyes are bloodshot, the storm still raging inside. There's a large slash by his collar bone that's only been remedied by a hastily put bandage.

Gwen follows right behind him, equally tired and bloodied. Her face is flat, emotion unreadable. She holds a blunderbuss to the captive’s head.

“Now, do you know her?” Hobie speaks up above the silence. Your heart skips a beat after mentioning you. “Don't keep us waiting, George. We haven't got all day.”

The navy man props himself up slowly and painfully, his joints creak, wounds opening. He looks at you through one eye, blood and bruises obscuring his vision.

He inhales scratchily, you suspect his lungs have collapsed. He chuckles and you could only look back towards Gwen who secretly shakes her head at you.

The captive laughs louder and louder, like he's lost his damn mind. “I think I know who this room belonged to, you fuckin’ snake!” he sing songs.

Gwen pushes the barrel closer to his temple, he pauses for a moment before cackling again. Hobie's knuckles tighten but his face remains indecipherable.

“Did you think bringing me here will get me to talk about what happened that day?” He makes it his mission to rile Hobie up, he's given up.

“Or are you showing me her replacement?” His eyes slither over to you, cackling more and more as his eyes roam your body.

“Enough,” Gwen finally speaks, pushing the barrel painfully close to his skin. “He asked you a question”

“You've already gotten what you need from me you fuckin' barbarians!”

Hobie closes the distance, “And we need more from you.” he bends at the waist to forcefully move the man's face towards you. “Do you know her?”

The beaten man smirked evilly, bloodied smile tempting you to hit him. He tilts his head, “Aye,” alarm bells start ringing in your head.

“The captain sent her as a spy, just look at her,” he side eyes Hobie who stares at you with his stormy eyes. “Quite a siren, huh? Were you captivated, eh ‘captain’?”

You could only look at Hobie through tearfilled eyes, pleading silently. You want to live but your mouth has clamped shut, your entire body is frozen, preventing you from laying your case.

After a minute of listening to the man praise you for your supposed work, Hobie yanks him away when George gets too close to you.

“Good on you for confirming our suspicions.” Your heart drops to your stomach. “But the details you've given us don't quite match up with what she's told us.” Hobie clicks his tongue, “I think you need to sing more for us, Georgie.”

The man's smile drops, he swallows thickly.

“Take him below.” The captain says as he reels in his anger.

Finn appears from the doorway, immediately taking the prisoner by the collar, dragging him further down the hallway, while he kicks and squirms to no avail. Gwen follows, sparing you a quick nod. She shuts the door behind her, the clicking sounds like a death knell specifically for you.

The soft lapping of the waves doesn't ease your nerves, it acts as a countdown with every hit to the side of the ship. The seagulls squawk loudly just outside your window, they're annoying but at least they're free.

After a minute of quiet and Hobie's eyes roaming around the small cabin, you hear him thud against the door. This is it, you think, picturing him taking out his cutlass to sever your head from your shoulders. Or maybe he's a gentleman, preferring to off you quick and painless with his blunderbuss.

Instead of the loud booming sound of a gun going off, you hear his voice. “What happened to your fire?”

“I'm too tired to keep it lit.” you bravely look up, he leans on the door, his shoulders and face relaxed, back slouched, knuckles bloody and broken. “Are you going to bring me below too or are you gonna end me right here?”

He frowns, “Why would I do that?”

“Because he just told you—”

Hobie sighs, you fall silent. The lines of his face are prominent as the sun rises once again. The light from the window hits him just right, bathing him in soft yellow. He closes his eyes like he's savouring the warmth.

“Men like him will do anything to bring someone else down with him.” He opens his grey eyes, the storm has calmed down behind it. “He knows he's lost.”

“You tied me up. Locked me up.”

“I know, it was for the better until I truly know you're not one of them. You're alive aren't you? Do you want me to apologize?”

“No, fuck you. I want you to thank me for saving your first mate.”

He chuckles lowly, “There it is, keep that fire yeah?”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“Sleep, you can have this cabin in the meantime.”

You glare at him, not trusting his own words.

“Here,” Hobie tosses a key at you. “my olive branch. Rest, trust me once everyone wakes from their poppy filled haze you're gonna wish you've slept.”

You hold the key in between your fingers, familiarizing yourself with the indents. “What?”

“Mend their wounds, doc. Prove your worth.” He turns to leave. “Do keep the place clean, yeah?”

You shakily stand up, locking the door behind him. Barely making it back to bed, you collapse, sleep taking you in its embrace.

—

You wake up to loud frantic knocking on your door. With a groan and sleep laden eyes, you reluctantly open the door.

Miles greets you, his smile not reaching fully to his tired eyes. “Finally! You sleep like the dead you know?”

“What's happening? Are we getting attacked again?” Your eyes roam across the cramped hallway.

“I hope not, they need you at the infirmary.”

“The ship has an infirmary?”

Following Miles through the halls and numerous stairs, you make unusual small talk.

“So…did Hobie tell you that I'm not a traitor?”

Miles stops in front of you, eyes narrowed. “Don't say the ‘T word’ around here or” he steps closer to whisper. You listen with trepidation. “or saving Gwen won't be enough for you to stay.” he looks around for a sign that someone else is listening.

“Why can't I say the ‘T word’? Did something happen back then?”

“Can you not?” He grimaces. “You can literally ask me anything else other than that.”

“Right, sorry.” You two continue to walk. “Who's MJ?”

Miles groans in annoyance. “Seriously?”

“What?! You said anything but that.”

“Alright, smart ass, anything but those two. Learn to read the room, jeez!” he shakes his head.

“Fine! How'd a kid like you end up here then? Am I allowed to ask that? Hmm?” you rile him up. This is the most fun you've had in days, anything to get rid of the thoughts swimming in your mind.

“Don’t call me kid, landlubber. If you hadn't saved Gwen back then I would throw you overboard so fast right now” Miles stomps further away from you while you chuckle.

“Yeah? And what's Gwen to you then? I see how you look at her.”

He stops with his hands on his hips, head falling in exasperation, he's too quiet.

“Miles?” oh shit. You might've gotten too far with your teasing. You weren't even sure what you said was true, it was just a wild guess.

“Is it that obvious?!” He suddenly yells, turning to look at you with his hands over his head like he's in physical pain. “You've been here for less than three days and you've noticed!”

“Please calm down.” You laugh nervously, the last thing you need right now is making Hobie's navigator cry. “I was teasing you is all.” You have no idea how to comfort the poor guy. “I won't tell anyone I promise!”

“Especially Gwen,” he points at you.

“I won't tell anyone.” you cross over your heart. “If you answer my questions” smiling mischievously, you can see Miles already regretting his choices.

“Blackmail? Really?” He huffs.

“Please it's the least you can do for me after saving the love of your life. Also blackmail is probably the lowest crime the bloodsail pirates have committed.”

Something passes by his eyes, a memory perhaps? You have no idea what it was but his eyes glissen over. He composes himself in a second, clearing his throat.

“Correction, you're not a bloodsail pirate.”

“I am for two weeks at least” you shrug.

“Finn is right, you are annoyingly talkative.”

“Hey! Talkative for his standards maybe. You try getting stuck in a small room with a silent giant and you will truly know how bored you can be.”

Miles nods, smirking like he knows something you don't. “You talk a lot to hide the fear inside you.”

Did he just psychoanalyze you?

“This crew will be the death of me, move, people are probably dying while we're talking” you walk past a grinning Miles.

Walking past a few more rooms, you spot an open door to your right. The dimly lit room catches your attention with its bookshelves full of gorgeously bound books.

“A library? You have a library here?!” You excitedly walk over to the doorframe, eyes quickly scanning the titles on the shelves. “I haven't seen a huge collection like this in my entire life.”

Miles steps over to the side, promptly shutting the door. “After you take care of my family then we can talk about library privileges.” He gives you a look that has you rolling your eyes.

“Fine, dork” you whisper the last word.

“What was that?” He clearly heard you.

“Nothing! Let's go and save some people.”

Turning the corner, leaning on the walls, there lies a line of disgruntled pirates. They hold on to their various injuries, groaning in pain. They cheer once they see you but they quickly shut up after their pain flares up from the cheering.

Walking towards the open double doors of the infirmary, they look at you with their unreadable faces. The common theme though is the ache in their bones and the blood coated shirts.

You assess each of their injuries, some are minor, only having gashes on their arms and legs. A few are bleeding through their bandages, head wrapped hastily in bandages that clearly needs to be changed immediately.

Trying to remember what she taught you, you sigh, hands clammy. You haven't handled this many people, only used to treating a couple of people at a time in your small village with her. Times like this, you can't help but miss her. Shaking your head, you can't let your mind wander again, right when the people who are helping you stay literally afloat need you.

But you can't handle this many people alone.

“Uh…who’s more injured?” you ask.

They all raise their injured hands.

“Okay, who's still bleeding?”

Half of them raise their hands.

As if sensing your panic, Pavitr comes up behind you, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Need my help? I'm not that good with blood but I'm sure I can help. and Miles can help too, right, bud?” Pav catches Miles who's sneaking away to leave. “Where are you going?”

“Uh… to look for Ned, yeah! He can help too.”

Ned yells from inside the infirmary, “I'm already in here! I was the one who told you to fetch Y/N, remember?”

You and Pavitr share a look.

“Yep yep! I'm coming to help, see?” He stops when he's inside the small clinic. “Oh man, that's a huge needle you have there Ned”

You clasp Miles on his trembling shoulder, “Don't worry I'll keep it away from you. For a price of course.”

Miles huffs, gritting his teeth. “You get three questions.”

“Good–”

“After you're done here”

“Fine.” you enter the room with a roll of your eyes. The smell of poppy, ointment and iron fills your senses. Suddenly you're back at home, the roaring fire from the stone fireplace warms you as the huge book in your lap has you enthralled by the illustration of human anatomy.

Groaning brings you back to the present. The first thing you see is Ned tending to ugly mug, his back exposed. Ned’s huge needle is sewing up a deep cut just below the man's shoulder.

“Give it to me straight, mate, I'm gonna look even uglier now aren't I?” He asks Ned.

You scrunch up your nose after seeing his face still good looking and injury free.

Turning around to face Pav and Miles, you try to remember her teachings, you can still feel her hands guiding your own as she rambles on how you should always wash your hands before treating someone. It's been years since then, her voice is nothing but a memory, slowly fading away as you grow older.

You haven't been practicing much, but you kept up with your knowledge by reading pamphlets as much as you can. It's a useful skill afterall, especially when you travel. With an exhale, you start instructing the two.

“Pav,” he straightens up. “get me some hot water from the galley and the purest alcohol Finn has.”

“Got it, I have to fight Finn though” he runs off with determination in his eyes.

“Miles, I need you to triage” you continue as you head off to the basin to clean in between your nails. The dried blood from your fingernails turns the water murky and brown.

“Put the people in front of the line who need to get treated first and with the most severe injuries while the people with the least severe injury to the back of the line.” You look over your shoulder. “Understood?”

“I'm doing it but not because you told me to.” he goes out of the room, already yelling at his impatient crew mates. You hear someone saying ‘what the fuck is a triage? use english!’

You look at Ned. “Please tell me you washed your hands.”

—

You're incredibly hungry, again. Your fingers ache from all the sewing and patching you've done. Your hands smell like herbs and ointments. The muscles in your hands still shake from all the bullets you had to carefully take out. But everyone seems to be stable now, thanks to you.

Washing your hands in the newly replenished basin, you hear footfalls against wood from above. For a second your mind flings back to the fight, you pinch your pinky to distract yourself from the image.

A plate clangs behind you. Looking over your shoulder, Miles is once again trying to sneak away.

“Thanks, Miles” You genuinely smile at him, just looking at the hot plate of mashed potatoes and beans has your stomach grumbling.

“Fine, ask away” he sits across from you, arms crossed on his chest.

“I actually forgot about that, thank you for mentioning it.” You smile mockingly, taking the plate to finally eat.

“What? Oh come on, man” he points suspiciously at you. “Why are you so curious?”

“Because human beings are naturally curious.” Miles makes a face. “Fine, I want to know the backstory of the legendary bloodsail pirates. I mean can you blame me? I have to live with the crew for two weeks.”

He sighs, convinced. “As long as the answers to your questions are already known by the navy,” you nod, “ask away.”

You chuckle. “First question, Where did Hobie get this huge ship?”

“Stole it, next question”

“Really? you're not gonna elaborate on that? I got the needles far away from you the entire time.”

He clicks his tongue. “Stole it from a rich merchant ship years ago with just his wits and a blunderbuss. He's been upgrading it since then, you can barely see the original facade.”

“I gotta admit it to him, that sounds like a good story to tell.”

“Maybe if you play nice he can tell it to you someday.”

You sigh, “Some mysteries just have to stay a mystery.”

He chuckles softly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Second question,” you take another spoonful of beans, chewing while talking. “Where did he get his crew?”

Miles looks at you with disgust. “Swallow first, Christ. Some joined later on, some like Gwen, Pav, Finn and I have been with him from the start.”

“Elaborate? Or I'll chew with my mouth open”

“What is wrong with you? I'm not done yet, jeez.” He looks like he's about to jump away from you. “A few of us were running from getting drafted during the war, only having us as their only option or go to jail.” You listen intently.

“But most of us joined after hearing about us, wanting to be pirates but they want to give back to the people instead of just taking and plundering for gold.” he scratches the back of his neck. “I guess some of us are more into it rather than just pure survival.”

“Wait, you do that? Like some sort of pirate Robin Hood?”

Miles looks at you surprised. “Of course we do, I'm guessing that doesn't make it to the sunday news huh?” he sighs. “Well that's what we do, we only take from the rich and give it back to the people who need it most. Most of the time the nobles and merchants don't suffer much loss from it.”

“Well until I see it for myself I'll think otherwise. Next question—”

“Nope, you've already asked your three questions!” He cackles.

“Wait, the last one doesn't count! Come on, one last very important one that if I don't get the answer to, I will combust.”

Miles pouts his lips, thinking like it's the most difficult thing ever. “Hmmm, you blowing up into tiny pieces sounds great actually.”

“I won't tell Gwen you're utterly in love with her. Just one last thing.”

“You won't tell anyone”

“I promise! And when I promise I intend to keep it.”

He exhales the most tired exhale ever. “Ask”

You smile. “Why follow Hobie?”

Miles stares at you directly, none of the annoyed look he's given, no boyish charm you've seen the entire day you've spent with him and the crew. He looks like a proper pirate with his back straight and loyalty emanating just from his tone.

“Because it's Hobie,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You have no idea the things he's sacrificed for us. Before we were a crew he— I owe him my life. And it's not blind loyalty, we're all free to leave if we don't want to follow him to the end. Some have already left.” He says the last part forlornly. “I guess I follow him because he's family, not just my captain.”

You look at your half eaten meal, family, you haven't heard that in ages. You have family somewhere, you're sure of it. In your journeys you've had people, friends, but not enough to be called your family; they haven't come close to what you had with her in that little cabin of yours in the middle of nowhere.

If only greed wasn't a thing, you'd still be with her.

You feel a ghost of your necklace graze your chest, instinctively holding on to it for comfort, disappointing yourself when you can't grasp it.

“Y/N?”

You clear your throat, fighting the tears from flowing. “So if he's your family and the crew is also your family, does that mean you're in love with Gwen who's supposedly your family? Hmmm?”

“You know what I meant! What is truly wrong with you?!”

“What? I'm just asking!”

“Oh really? Well you use humour as a crutch!”

You gasp, “Rude!”

“Yep that's you! Miss ‘I make jokes during serious conversations’”

“Understood, now where did I put that needle?” you act like you're trying to find it, patting your pockets.

“Nope, I'm already gone!” He's sprinting away from you. “You're needed in the galley by the way!” His muffled yell makes you laugh.

Another day, another quiet day in the galley for you.

—

During dinner, you've noticed the empty chairs, the sound of the waves crashing and utensils scraping still echoing in your ears as you watch them bring out their dead from below.

The full moon witnesses the crew put their dead on the now pillaged navy ship. The bodies wrapped carefully in white sheets. There's no breeze blowing or waves lapping at the sides of the ship. Everything's at a standstill.

The eerie silence has you standing by the edge of the crowd. Not a part of it but not truly alone.

The gas lamps illuminate the crew's expressions. You're not used to seeing their faces look so devastated, especially after all the laughs you've shared with them while mending their wounds mere hours ago.

You know it's not your place to be here or to even stand with them while they're mourning their friends. But you stay because if it's the other way around you'd want the only outsider to mourn with you, to stand in solidarity with you even if she doesn't know how the people you're laying down on the cold wood used to comfort you through the storm and how they used to hate the summer heat.

You'd want the outsider to know that they once lived.

The floorboards creak as Hobie lays the last body on the navy boat's deck, kneeling by the side to say his final farewell. After a moment, he stands up, knuckles so tightly closed that you can see his hands shake from where you're standing.

He cuts the rope tied to the mast, the sails unfurl, the slight breeze making it move slowly. Hobie jumps back to the revenge before the navy ship sails too far.

With his crew right behind him, you all watch as the ship sails for the final time. Hobie takes a musket from Gwen, they share a comforting look briefly before he takes aim at the ship. The shot echoes out, hitting the barrel full of gunpowder directly. Fire immediately bellows, engulfing the wooden ship.

The fire cackles further away but it still warms your cheeks. Orange and yellow dancing on the water as the mast burns and falls into the depths with a splash.

A soft voice sings a mellow tune, the lyrics full of sorrow and longing for what they've lost.

You look over to the source of the song, Yuri has her eyes glued to the flaming ship, her cadence echoes out to the open sea, the rest join in, goosebumps flare up on your arms. They sing about how the sea has claimed them but they aren't truly lost for they still sail the endless depths with the stars as their guide.

The singing ends and as everyone goes their separate ways, Hobie stays behind, watching as the fire devours the ship. With one last look, you head to your cabin, head full of thoughts that you'd rather not let it fester or it might consume you like the fire outside razing the once mighty ship.

The tune still stays with you until your head hits the soft pillow, you wonder how many times they've sung it together.

That night you wake up to someone screaming from above, cursing Hobie's name. Frantic footsteps dance above, you can hear a gun clicking. Recognizing the former lieutenant's voice, you fall back under the covers, jumping in place as you hear the gun go off followed by a splash and then a sudden silence.

For the next two days, you get acclimated to your life on the people's revenge. Having some sort of routine. In the morning you go to the infirmary to help clean their wounds and change their bandages, single handedly stopping infection. The survival rate of the injured has increased tenfold with your help. They greet you with a smile every morning, sometimes calling you ‘doc’ and you correct them everytime.

You haven't seen Hobie the past two days, always getting glimpses of him in the halls as he turns a corner. None of the crew have seen him out either. You wonder if he's had anything to eat in the past few days.

You've encountered how grief could consume someone, you hope you don't witness it again.

At lunch, you cook with Finn in the galley, making conversation, telling him stories you've heard during your journeys as he grunts and huffs in reply. You've gotten used to the quiet in the kitchen with only the waves outside and the bubbling pot filling your ears.

The crew have gotten better after the loss, they've started laughing again, making jokes and even including you to the conversation. You keep finding yourself chuckling among them during dinner.

After the day ends, you bring Pavitr his tea as he gets ready for another long night shift of sailing. As you head down to the library, you check in on Miles as he toils on a map, studying every detail, making sure the ship's on track. You bring him his cup, he's stopped looking at the tea suspiciously after the third time you've given him one.

You hear arguing in Hobie's cabin again, the voices are different each time you pass through but you don't dare eavesdrop, you swear that man has eyes everywhere.

The library has become your sanctuary, not the cabin you're temporarily placed in. You get a weird feeling everytime you enter the small room, like you don't quite belong in the obviously lived in space. There's tiny trinkets hidden on shelves, some are quite peculiar, unlike anything you've ever seen. You keep finding drawings and journal pages tucked in the corners and the bed frame, the ink already too faded to read or to even make out the art. You surmise the old resident of the cabin pushed the papers in there to stop the draft.

As you sit down on the lumpy green armchair of the library, the oil lamp illuminating the pages with only the moon as your companion; you get sucked into the yellowed pages, burrowing into every word printed, making a home for yourself in between the letters written by authors you'll never meet in your lifetime.

A soft knock brings your soul back to the old library, your eyes adjust in the darkness, his silhouette leaning casually on the doorway.

“So this is where you vanish off to every night” you can barely make out his face but you know he's smirking by the way his lip piercing glints in the lamp.

“Am I not allowed, Captain?” he chuckles. The sound reverberated around the room. A ghost of a smile passes by your lips.

“Keep callin' me like that and you might find yourself having special treatment.”

“And what exactly is the special treatment?”

Hobie shrugs, raising a finger up as he lists them down. “Havin' your own cabin, getting fed twice in a day, access to the ship's library, did I mention staying dry and alive?”

“You've mentioned it once or twice.” You sigh, gathering courage for what you're about to ask. “I've got a question, Cap.”

Hobie scoffs, “Heard you've been asking those a lot. One of these days your curious arse will get you killed.” You shrug, ignoring his comment. “You know I'd hunt you down if any of this information gets to the navy right?”

“I know, and I'm not a fucking snitch especially after you've kept your word of letting me stay even though you did use me as bait when you were interrogating the navy man.”

“Come off it,” he clicks his tongue. “I did not use you as bait.”

“Sure, and you don't have trust issues, Hobie Brown”

“Likewise, Y/N asshole.” he enters the room and into the light. You don't miss his snarky nickname for you. “Can a person with trust issues do this?” Hobie tosses a bag right on your lap.

You recognize the satchel, blinking in surprise “My bag!” You scan the contents down to the small bag of coins finding everything is still in its place. “Did you happen to see a necklace? It has a circular pendant with a bird engraved on it.”

“No, it doesn't ring a bell. Trust me somethin’ like that would've left a mark.”

You frown, hope diminished. Hobie gestures towards the seat in front of you, asking permission. You nod, letting him in your personal bubble.

“What are you reading?” He sits across from you on the rickety rocking chair, groaning, knees cracking.

“Just a story about some Greek hero that my m– I used to read back then.”

He nods, not mentioning the blunder. “I don't think Theseus is just some bloke.” You chuckle softly. “Y’know there's a much better read than that over…” he twists around, taking a book right behind him. “Here” he hands it off to you, calloused fingers grazing yours.

Turning the small book around, you shake your head with a subtle smile. “‘How to conquer your fears volume five: Learn how to swim by Sir Riordan of Canterbury’ Very funny”

Hobie stifles a laugh, a genuine smile across his face. “Thought it was appropriate.” he crosses a leg over the other, shoulders relaxed.

“What was your question, scuttlebutt? Ask me before I change my mind, ‘m feeling generous today.”

Your hands play with the spine of the old book. “Why haven't you killed me yet? After what George said, why didn't you believe him that I'm a traitor?”

He visibly stiffened, “You can't be called a traitor if you were never part of the crew, eh?” your heart thumps louder as he observes your every move.

“Also that's two questions,” the moonlight hits his fatigued face, you stare into those eyes that threaten to bring you under, but you swim out just in time before it drags you down. “good thing they have the same answers.”

You blink slowly, fingers nervously pick at the dry skin on your thumb.

“Your rucksack,” he points with chin. “I didn't pay enough attention to it when you first arrived but when I had my suspicions I had to check. First the coins or the lack thereof. If you were a navy spy they'd give you enough to use it as a bargaining tool.”

“You calling me poor?”

“Yes” he doesn't miss a beat. “Second your shoes, the bloody thing is thinner than Finn's flat bread.” you suck in your teeth in annoyance. “And that–” he leans closer, his elbows resting on his thighs. “Your fuckin' attitude, you didn't even try to play nice. You just did what you were told so you could survive. The only time you're actually nice is when nobody else is lookin'” you scoff while he continues on.

“Don't think I didn't notice you during the funeral or whenever you give Pav and Miles their tea. You stay along the edges of the crew, lingering, not really looking for any approval. But you're there, acting like you don't care but based on the careful stitches and gentle hands, you care, a lot.”

You grit your teeth, letting him read you like an open book that you've kept hidden behind the shelves, under all the more interesting books.

“Spies ease their way into the crew with effort, you did it unintentionally. You didn't hesitate saving Gwen, you could've done anything else in an attempt to escape but you helped and you stayed. You're not a spy, I think you just want to belong somewhere—”

You cut him off, “What makes you think I want to join your rag tag group?”

Hobie looks like he's about to swallow you whole, ignoring your last snarky comment, he continues his rant. “You want to belong even if it’s on a damn pirate ship. You're a genuine stowaway.”

“Alright, you're quite perceptive then, but that doesn't answer my question on why you haven't killed me yet.” you bravely face him. “You said it yourself, you would kill me if any information about you and the crew comes out from me. And you told me I needed the coin so what's stopping me from going to the nearby governor and selling off the information the moment we land?”

“Because you're running too,” his eyes shine in the low light, looking at you mischievously. “I don't know from whom or if you're wanted like us but I do know you're not gonna risk your freedom for a few coins.”

Hobie beams at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “And lastly, I'm gonna need you before I let you go.”

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Records of forgotten times.

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Old music records bring back memories and sparks talk of a new future.

~~☆☆☆~~

Today was relaxing day in your Alexandria home.

Daryl had come home from a run and had brought home a literal truckload of items of which a couple of boxes were dropped at your place.

He busied himself moving the boxes into the living room while you continued your work in the kitchen.

"What did you bring back, Dee?" you mused from you spot in the kitchen, where you were cleaning off last night's dishes in your favorite shorts and one of Daryl's shirts that were way too large on you. It was fraying at the hem and the old classic rockband on the print was fading badly, tour dates from a long forgotten time barely recognisable anymore. He never thought twice about you stealing his shirts. They were so much more comfortable than his button downs and with the shirts smelling like him they helped you sleep when he was out on runs.

“Found an old storage place, had a bunch of boxes with music. I got first pick cuz I found ‘em.” He kept filing through the large boxes filled with records and taking each one he liked out to stack near the old record player your house came with.

“Let me have a look too when I’m done here, please?” He grumbled an agreeing response and you made sure to hurry along with your cleaning round so you could join Daryl on the living room floor.

Daryl had gotten up off the floor to fumble around with the record player and try out one of the records and to his luck it still played. He had pocketed some still boxed replacement needles and swapped the old one out before playing a Judas Priest record and got a nice, crisp sound to which he comfortably hummed along to and even sang along with some parts.

As you were hanging your cleaning rag and towel over the opened oven door to dry you mumbled along with some lyrics that had remained in the back of your head.

This surprised your dear old partner to the point of stopping entirely with what he was doing to stare at you enjoying his all time favorite band. “Ya know this music?” He sounded so confused it made you laugh. You never really talked about your old world life, never really feeling it was needed to share about it. Not until now.

“My parents were old school rockers, I grew up on this kind of music.” You had walked over and sat down at one if the boxes.

“Yer calling me old now?” Old. He hated that word, even if you were both adults he still didn’t like the sound of him being put in the same box as your late parents.

“I mean,” You started, not sure how to properly say this without being offensive. You loved Daryl and you were happy with him, really not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “I guess you’re around their age, right? Dad would have been sixty-two by now. He loved this music so much we had cabinets filled with CDs, he'd go to concerts with friends and have music nights every month. Mom woukd have been around fifty-eight I think. She preferred more symphonic stuff.” You were so caught up in your memories you had stopped looking through the music entirely, your hands shakily holding onto one record a little too tightly for Daryl’s comfort.

“I’m fifty-three, if ya really gotta know.” He had moved over to your side and put an arm around you to pry your fingers off the record. “An’ I really hope yer not secretly seein’ me as a father figure cuz I'd love it if my kid'd be one year old in about two years from now..”

You registered his comment and were pulled back into this world with a soft sob. You hoped it’d be saved for later when the sadness that these boxes brought you had blown over.

“I miss them.” Your words were barely above a whisper, but Daryl caught them all. He had managed to get the record from your hands and took a glance at the cover.

The image didn’t look all too different from the current world. A blue sky behind the ruins of a building, and a man in a rather unnatural pose on a regal looking wooden throne in the foreground. The title reading ‘A Farewell to Kings’ by RUSH.

“Yer old man listen to this?” You quietly nodded, sniffling and wiping at your tears that were now freely running down your face. He put the record aside to make a new separate pile just for you.

“Come on, let’s see what else is in here. Maybe some Ozzy. Ya like Ozzy?” You now nodded with a smile appearing on your face. “Y.. yeah, we had a dog named Ozzy. Mom liked him a lot.” The memory of the dog you had for a short while did lighten the mood a bit, thankfully.

Daryl had abandoned his search entirely and only looked through the boxes with you now, picking out records he did like and ended with almost the entire collection by Judas Priest, which you learned was his favorite.

“Oh shit, look!” You held up a copy of Mötley Crüe’s ‘Dr. Feelgood’ with an excited squeal.

“Nah, that’s what yer into? Crazy girl.” He shook his head with a loving smile. By the time you reached the second to last box you had both gathered quite the collection. Daryl had reluctantly handed you all the Crüe records he found, even if they were duplicates. You wanted to keep them because of their different covers. Even in this world you loved collecting and Daryl admired your ability to find happiness in these items.

“Hey, ya want this one too?” A Metallica record. Not one that you knew so you declined. A grumble let you know he heard you and the fwips of records being looked through continued until another one was being held in your direction. This time it was a Black Sabbath record. You took it to inspect the track list on the back and added it to your pile. “Oh! Another one, yess!” You happily pulled out an Iron Maiden album and admired the cover art, taking in all the small details.

“Ya really listen to them or just love the art?” A hand extended to hand you one more. “Ah, thanks. I like both.” You declared, staring at the next artpiece. “But I wouldn‘t be mad if these end up not playing. We could decorate with the cover arts.”

Daryl looked around the still bare walls of the house and loved your idea to make it more truly yours.

With all the boxes thoroughly searched and your collection put away you went to take the leftover boxes to the communal area for everyone else to enjoy. Seeing the other residents get so excited over music brought smiles to your faces and you went back home more satisfied than you’d thought.

“So..” You locked the front door behind you and nervously stepped over to the cabinet that held your newly acquired collection. Daryl followed your every step with a true hunter’s eye, wondering what got your nerves up all of a sudden. “Which one of these do you think has the best baby making vibes.”

“M’sorry?” No way he heard that correctly. He had convinced himself you hadn‘t heard him since you completely disregarded his comment before. “Ya sure? I mean.. I know wha’ I said but,” he stopped and couldn’t get himself to look you in the eyes. Opting for the crack in the floorboard instead. Before he had a chance to find the right words you had abandoned the record cabinet and stepped over to stand in front of him and kiss his cheek. “I love you.” You whispered before properly kissing him and making sure he got the hint that this was really what you wanted.

“But seriously, pick one. We need something loud to drown out the ..other noises.” You joked with a wink.

~~☆☆☆~~

The talk you had with Daryl that day months ago turned out to be true.

When you laid in your shared bed you spoke about the one obvious thing about your relationship and how the Alexandrians were gonna be judging you for it. When word got out about yours and Daryl’s romantic relationship you already got stares from concerned women who thouht you were being claimed by the older man. You both were way more open about your relationship now that you had a safe place to live and try to have a normal life again, but the original residents who had never gone through the horrors that you had never really let go of their old world beliefs. And now that normal life you tried to live also came with your own child shich had the staring and quiet comments becoming even worse. Uncle Daryl already had Judith, who would always make rude comments to whoever dared to speak ill of her new auntie, but now he had you and with that his own soon to be born child and he wasn't gonna let anyone ruin his happiness because of some dumb opinions.

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: This one made me cry while writing. The parents are based off my own, one of which is no longer with us. Did some painful remembering for this one.

[blood-grove]

The Hunt

previous hunt <- part 2 -> (hunting)

x tws; violence , blood , injuries , gore , slight suggestiveness , sickness. <- more will be added possible depending on the part.

x pairings; soap x male!reader (😲)

x characters; soap , ghost , price , gaz + (others will maybe be added? idk ive never written a whole lot of characters cuz i get confused in my own head)

Soap ran his hands through your hair gently scratching your scalp as you purred lowly.

"God ah loue hearing ye purr git a real overgrown moggie as mah boyfriend dinnae ah?" Soap mumbled as he moved his hands to your face tilting your head up enough to look up at him from his lap.

"Such a nice view mm?" Soap grinned as he gently reached hand down brushing over the slight stubble around your chin and cheeks you preferred a clean shave and had quickly learned how to do it yourself.

Especially after all the cuts Johnny gave you trying to do one side of your face.

"Mm.." You hummed as you shifted in the water a near by lake you both have found yourselves at to clean up clothes set aside Soap always carried another pair for the both of you.

Your medallion hung heavy on your chest when clothed you always hid it so you didn't feel like it getting stolen and shifting into a giant dragon while out shopping would be ideal for you and Soap's little business venture.

"How much do we have now..?" You mumbled as you focused on washing instead of Soap's touch.

"Mm..We lost a guid bit we hud tae rush tae th' lea back then..we got 300 silver from you..We'll have to eat today so that'll be around 40 ish- We have about uhh mm.." Soap went quiet in thought as you huffed silently washing some more mud off yourself.

Money.

It had been a problem for you both you could never kept it.

You both had gotten greedy one village ago too many dragon attacks the dragon causing no damage and not even stealing livestock.

They figured you out.

You panicked.

And all remains is a burnt ashy waste.

You tried to repress the memory they were going to hang Soap what else were you supposed to do? You can't take on a whole town, You didn't have Soap's wit and agility especially not back when your human form was still so fresh.

For being such a strong creature you felt helpless in that moment, Soap still wore some scars from it all.

You shook your head as Soap's concerned look brought you back to the present.

"You okay love?"

"..Mm..Yeah.." You nodded as you gently nuzzled him slightly before going to get and dry off with the cloth you both brought.

"...Alright..I think we've got around 1,200"

"..Still not enough.."

"Yeah.."

For the rest of the evening you both ate and soon found an inn to stay in, You both planned to leave before dawn you didn't feel like getting up so early, especially with the cool chill of the twilight air.

You weren't cold-blooded per se but heat has always been a luxury to bask in getting in enough rays just to wake you up enough has always been a pleasure.

But being a literal fire-breathing creature meant your core ran warm perfect for Soap to cling onto too And an excuse to bury his face in your chest.

You didn't mind of course you always woke up to him running his fingers through your hair or sometimes he'd be sketching while one hand rested somewhere on you.

You feel you hit the jackpot with him he's always been physically affectionate yet he never overstepped a line you both hadn't crossed yet.

It was way past dawn when you both woke up again.

You were the clingy one this morning as you tried to keep Soap in place despite his groggy voice mumbling that you both had to get up.

You refused.

He stared at you as you admitting childishly locked your body around his limbs looking up at him.

"Oh noo whitevur shall ah dae a dragon haes me trapped in tis sleepy embrace..maybe a few kisses wull convince it tae let this poor warrior go?." Soap grinned as he looked at you cupping your face as he freed his arms.

"Possibly..I don't know the dragon has a very high kiss toll..I might have ta' turn you into a pile of ash if you don't abide by it.." You teased as he gently pecked your forehead.

"Ohh I'm sooo scared" He chuckled as he finally leaned down and embraced you into a kiss which you quickly melted into letting the rest of his body free as his hands slid down to your hips gently squeezing them as he deepened the kiss.

Soap chummed as he pulled away placing a quick on your forehead before he slipped away.

You both finally got dressed properly as you both packed up and got ready to leave.

Today is another day and another village was ripe for the pickings.

In your head it sounded sort of like thievery.

Maybe you both were scam artist thieves and not relieving people of there excess wealth.

Maybe you were both bad people scamming and scaring the richer folk.

Nah.

It took a week or so to reach the next town and you were both back to your routine.

Soap headed to the nearby guild or tavern if there wasnt a guild, He had a knack for charming the drunk passerby with his exaggerating his dragon slaying tales.

You just hoped he wouldn't get too drunk on the first day here.

You on the other hand were scouting out the town maybe getting a few treats for you and Soap.

You were so preoccupied in your thoughts and potential sweets you would buy you bumped into what could only be mistaken as a brick wall sending stumbling back.

"Ah fuck- What the-"

"Sorry."

You flinched at the voice as you looked up meeting not a magic talking wall which you would have preferred but a man tall and draped in dark clothes and a hooded cloak a skull mask fitted on his face and cloth covering the rest of it.

You got up quickly as he picked up your satchel and book holding them back to you as you stood there for a moment before finally composed yourself.

"Ah um- No its alright I wasnt paying attention."

He just hummed which you couldnt decivier if its good or bad.

"Wheres the guild house here?"

"Uh um I think back near the far markets and again I'm so-"

He just left following your honestly vague directions.

"Oh.. uh okay."

Weirdo.

a/n; sorry if it isnt that good just got back from vacation

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 18)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

"Hey," Kevin waves when Derrick opens the front door.

"Hey, glad you could make it," my deskmate says. "Where's Brittney?"

"Surprise!" Brittney shouts, popping out of Kevin's shirt pocket. She blows a party horn and throws a handful of confetti into the air.

"Sorry," Kevin says. "She insisted on making an entrance."

Derrick laughs. "That's Brittney for you! I wouldn't have her any other way!"

Derrick stands to the side of the door so Kevin and Brittney can enter the house. Kevin, I notice, has changed into a more casual outfit—jeans and a brown oversized t-shirt. Brittney, on the other hand, is still sporting her school uniform.

"Here," Brittney says, removing her necktie and shoving it into the pocket of the blazer she's holding out along with her bookbag. "Can you hang these up for me, babe?"

Without saying a word, Kevin pinches the green blazer and the bookbag between his fingertips and hangs them beside mine on the coat rack. As I watch him set them in place with one swift motion, I can't help but wonder if he's gotten used to handling human items. Derrick was so surprised at the size of my blazer when he held it, but Kevin seems unphased in comparison.

"Oh, yeah," Kevin says, turning to Derrick. "You said to bring a board game, so we brought Aventerra. There weren't a ton of options at my place."

"That works! Anything different from the usual is great!" Derrick says, taking the box in his hands. "We can only play Deduce and Roam Runner so many times."

Kevin nods. "Also, this is for you," he says, holding up a thin rectangular object. It's wrapped in some kind of shiny paper that's decorated with multicolored stars.

"And this, too!" Brittney exclaims, holding out a human-sized gift wrapped in what looks to be the same paper.

Derrick's eyes widen. "You guys didn't have to get me anything!" He says, holding up his hands.

"Go ahead, take them!" Brittney says. "What are friends for, anyway?"

Derrick laughs, taking the items. "Okay, okay, only if you insist."

I try not to look up at Derrick when he approaches the table to set down the Aventerra box and put the gifts with the others, but something in me gives in and I find myself staring higher and higher until my eyes finally meet his. My insides churn when he flashes a smile at me from above. I turn my eyes to the table's surface in an instant, but the image of him looming over me remains burned into my mind and causes my head to start spinning.

"Kaylin!" Brittney hollers, running from where Kevin set her down on the table and attacking me with a tight hug. "You came!"

"Can't...! Breathe...!" I manage through what little breath has yet to be squeezed out of my lungs by her embrace.

"Oh, sorry!" Brittney says, releasing me. "I'm just super glad you're here, since I wasn't sure if you were really coming! I figured it would be hard for you to show up to a party at a place like this because of your—"

Derrick clears his throat. "Hey, how about we get things started? Do you guys want to play Aventerra?"

Brittney's eyes light up as she smiles. "Yes! I'd love to!"

I hesitate, looking back at Mrs. Drake. She's wiping off the counter with the rag she used to dry dishes, but her eyes are focused on Brittney and I. I spin back around, and my eyes lock onto the table's surface. I try to concentrate on steadying my breathing, but all that manages to escape my lungs are quick, shuddery breaths to go with my trembling. I grab hold of one of my hands and squeeze it tight, trying my hardest to focus on the pressure instead of my rapid heartbeat.

"Kaylin?" Derrick asks.

"Y-yes?" I manage to answer while slowly craning my neck back to look him in the eyes.

"Would you like to play too?"

"Uh, maybe," I say. "But... don't you want to wait for more people to get here first?"

The room grows quiet, and I look around as I wait for a response. Brittney looks to Derrick with sadness in her eyes. Kevin glances away, a hand on his chin. I don't dare look at Mrs. Drake a second time. I take a step back and reluctantly peek up at my deskmate, who seems to be searching for something to say. He smiles.

"Since this is a last-minute sort of thing, it's only going to be the four of us. There aren't a lot of people who would be willing to show up to a party held at the last minute on a Forsday, anyway," Derrick chuckles.

"O-oh," I say, forcing a smile and a laugh.

"Anyway," Derrick says, opening the big, navy blue box labeled Aventerra, "let's begin, shall we?"

"Um," I pipe up, "would this game happen to have any heavy pieces?"

"It's actually really easy for humans to play!" Brittney exclaims, taking me by the hand and pulling me to the center of the game board Derrick just laid down. "It's even got one of these popping things, so we don't have to pick up the dice!"

Brittney stomps on a pedal with her foot, causing a pair of dice contained within a large plastic dome to tumble around with a loud pop. Taken aback by the unexpected noise, I flinch, only to gaze at the device before me in wonder.

"Is it really that easy?" I ask, looking to Brittney as if requesting permission to try rolling the dice myself. When she nods, I give the plastic pedal a gentle tap, and a loud pop fills my ears once again as the dice bounce around in the dome.

"Wow," I whisper, positive this is the first time I've laid eyes on a game like this. "I never thought a perthean board game would be this accessible to humans."

Brittney picks up a red disk the size of a bicycle tire with the words '100 soldiers' written on it. "All we really need to pick up are these tokens and some cards. It's really easy!"

"What do you say, Kaylin?" Derrick asks, crouching down to be eye level with Brittney and I. "Do you want to play?"

I glance over at Brittney, who, with a big smile, nods her head up and down vigorously. Kevin, almost predictably, has already pulled out his phone and begun to stare at it with an expression devoid of any life. Then my gaze rests on Derrick. My insides flip as I examine the great face before me, and my heart begins to pound when our eyes meet. I quickly turn away, placing a hand on a cheek that I'm sure has reddened by now as I squirm where I stand on the table. I want to look my deskmate in the eyes, but for whatever reason, I just can't handle the weight of his stare!

"Y-yes," I finally manage. "I'll play."

Mrs. Drake passes by the table and ruffles her son's hair. "You kids have fun. Your dad and I will be in the other room if you need anything."

"Right. Thanks, Mom." Derrick says, fixing his hair as she walks away.

The room grows quiet once more as Mrs. Drake closes a door somewhere down the hall. Derrick lets out a sigh and turns back to me.

"So, you probably want to know how to play, huh?"

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

After a few minutes of explaining, confusion, and more explaining, I figured I knew enough about the game to give it a try. Derrick, being the birthday boy, went first when Brittney convinced him to, even though he initially wanted to decide who went first by dice roll as the rules directed. Since play was supposed to go clockwise, Kevin should have been next, but Brittney was too eager to roll the dice and ended up going before him. Kevin went after her, and I went last.

The game itself is simple— roll the dice, send out soldiers, and claim land. If the land you end up on is already claimed, fight for it by dice roll. I'm sure I'm forgetting something from Derrick and Brittney's explanation. But I figure if I try to memorize the rules in their entirety, we'll never get to play.

"You'd think all this land we're claiming would already have some owners, wouldn't you?" Brittney says, gazing at the soldier tokens Kevin just set down on his newly claimed territory.

"What?" Kevin says, his eyes narrowing in confusion at his girlfriend's statement. "The back of the box says it's a new world no one has discovered before. Why would there be people there?"

"Well, that's true," Brittney says, "but don't explorers sometimes say they've discovered new land when it's already being occupied?"

"But that would be lying," Derrick chuckles. "They wouldn't have discovered it at all!"

"Yeah," Kevin adds on, "what kind of psychopath would make a claim like that?"

"Ha! Yeah, just... a lot of Earth's explorers were like that, I guess," Brittney laughs nervously before turning to me. "Okay, your turn! Think you've got it figured out?"

"I think so. I'll send out 300 soldiers," I say, stacking three tokens and stepping on the dice pedal. After the two cubes settle down, I read the numbers on the top. "Three and one. Four?!"

My eagerness to play turns to panic as I realize that moving four spaces from start would land me on the space Kevin just claimed on his turn. I don't want to fight Kevin! I begin to shake as I stare at the dice with no clue how to proceed.

"Kaylin?" Brittney says, tapping me on the shoulder. "You good?"

"G-good? Y-yeah!" I utter through my trembling. "Just making sure I read that right."

I turn and begin walking towards the start space, the wobbling in my legs nearly causing me to trip with each step. What am I going to do? When I arrive, I lift my plastic red pawn and count the spaces in front of me over and over again to ensure I'm not making some kind of mistake.

Kevin taps the fourth space on the board in front of me, where he's stacked four of his blue soldier tokens. I gulp as a shudder runs down my spine. If I don't start moving, he's going to realize something's wrong with me for sure! I begin inching forward, my heart pounding in my chest with each step I take toward Kevin's claimed territory. After too short of a distance for my liking, I reach my destination and set my pawn down beside the stack of blue tokens.

"Well, well, well," Kevin grumbles, his low voice reverberating through the table and shaking me to my core.

I don't dare look up. I don't dare make contact with those narrowed brown eyes of his. Not when they remind me so much of...

SLAM!

I struggle to maintain my balance as various game pieces fly through the air and come crashing down all around me. My eyes snap to the right, widening as they land on the cause of this sudden disruption. Before me is a fist. Kevin's fist. I spin around, hoping to locate Brittney or Derrick, but they're nowhere to be found. Trembling, I begin to tiptoe away from the clenched hand.

"Thought you could escape?" Kevin asks, his booming voice reverberating through my body as he pinches the back of my shirt and lifts me high above the table.

"H-hey!" I protest, kicking my legs in a futile attempt to get away.

"Resisting? What a pity," Kevin sighs before a devilish grin spreads across his face. "Most tinies give up and let me win."

My heartbeat rings in my ears as one massive digit pins me between another, forcing the breath from my lungs and leaving me without any air. One by one, other fingers begin to curl around my quaking frame, trapping me completely. No, no! Anything but this!

"If you can't play nicely," he growls, lifting my head to meet those narrowed brown eyes of his as he tightens his grip, "then don't play at all."

All at once I'm thrown down onto the game board, where I land on my side with a loud crack. I don't have time to process the burning pain in my hip when, to my horror, the very same fist that threatened to squeeze the life out of me comes hurling down toward me from above.

SLAM!

"Hello?! Kaylin?!" Brittney says, shaking me by the shoulders.

"Y-yes?!" I answer, clueless to what's going on around me.

"Finally!" she huffs, releasing me. "We were getting worried! You've gotta stop zoning out like that, it freaks people out!"

"S-sorry," I manage, wiping away a stray tear with one of my trembling hands. "What's happening, exactly?"

"You were just about to beg for mercy," Kevin says with a wink.

My lip quivers as I take a step back, unable to tear my eyes away from the massive perthean looming above me.

Brittney lays a hand on my shoulder. "He's joking."

"300 soldiers, right? This stack here?" Kevin asks, pointing to one of my stacks of red soldier tokens by the dice.

"Y-yeah," I nod.

"Well then," he says, picking up the stack and setting it beside the stack that was already on his claimed space, "better hope for a high roll. As defender, I'll roll first."

I flinch when Kevin reaches around Brittney and I to tap the dice pedal. After a loud pop, the cubes in the dome settle down again, and we all lean in to see the result.

Kevin leans back in his chair upon seeing the two and the one he rolled.

"Three times four hundred... That's twelve hundred points," he sighs.

"Mhm," I hum as I rub one of my trembling arms.

"Come on, Kaylin!" Brittney cheers. "You can definitely beat him! That roll was pathetic! You've got this!"

"P-pathetic?" Kevin mumbles. "I thought you were on my side."

"Technically, nobody's really supposed to be on anybody's side," Derrick laughs.

Brittney crosses her arms and turns away from the boys, her bottom lip protruding in a pout. "I was just trying to encourage her, that's all!"

A soft chuckle escapes me as I step on the dice pedal. I bite the inside of my cheek and squeeze my eyes shut as the cubes dance around in their container. When they come to a stop, I reluctantly open one eye and see one of the dice landed on one. My heart sinks. I almost want to keep my eyes shut and pretend I'm not even playing this game.

"Wow! You did it!" Brittney exclaims, shaking one of my shoulders.

"I-I did?" I ask, opening both of my eyes to see the other die, which managed to land on five.

"Eighteen hundred points," Kevin says. "Good game."

As I allow my shoulders to relax, a smile creeps onto my face. I wasn't expecting to win at all! And I wasn't sure if I could expect Kevin to be a good sport about it, either.

Kevin swaps his four blue tokens for red ones and places them beside me.

"So," he says, grinning, "what would you like to do with your new land?"

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

The game went on for an hour or so, and things were really close between Brittney and Derrick during the last quarter. It was anyone's guess who the winner would be, but ultimately, Brittney came out on top.

After thinking through other games we could play, we decided to switch from board games to video games when Derrick suggested we play Super Crushers Ultra on his FlexPad. I wasn't sure at first, since I've never been a big fan of violent games. But then I learned I could play as Mr. Buck from Flower Forest, or even that lovable orange blob, Borbo! Since a kid-friendly character like Borbo was involved, I became convinced that the game couldn't possibly be as violent as I had initially worried it would be.

Derrick happened to have two sets of human-sized FlexPad controllers, which took me by surprise. I wonder how many humans he plays video games with.

"Gah!" Brittney says when Borbo is cornered by Luis, the blue electrician.

Derrick, not wasting the opportunity, proceeds to mercilessly mash buttons on his controller until poor Borbo is flung off screen by a powerful bolt of lightning coming from Luis' wrench.

"Not fair!" Brittney exclaims. "What did I ever do to you?!"

"You did take his land," Kevin says, moving the angry black cat, Eclipse, off a ledge and toward Luis. "Don't worry, I'll get him for you."

"I thought we weren't taking sides!" Derrick says as he continues to mash buttons.

I move Mr. Buck from ledge to ledge above the other two fighters, still not quite sure how to control him. Once Eclipse is thrown out of the arena, Luis jumps up in front of Mr. Buck! My heart beats faster and faster as I struggle to remember the right buttons to press.

"W-wait!" I plead. "Can't we talk about this?"

To my surprise, Luis stops.

"Oh, come on!" Kevin shouts. "You didn't even show any mercy to your own best friend!"

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I look down at my controller. I didn't mean to make anyone angry.

"Hold on, I just want to see what she has to say," Derrick says.

My heart skips a beat. I didn't think my plea would get me this far. I turn back from my spot on the sofa's armrest to look up at Derrick, whose warm smile almost seems unfitting for a guy who just beat two of his closest friends in a video game without holding back.

"Well?" Derrick says.

"U-um," I utter, desperately trying to think of any string of words that could get me out of this situation.

Derrick tilts his head, waiting patiently for my response.

"Y-you..." I start, putting on the best impression of Mr. Buck I can muster. "You wouldn't hit a fellow with glasses, now would you?"

My deskmate is silent at first, but after a moment, bursts out laughing.

My heart sinks in my chest as my face turns a bright shade of red. What was I thinking? Why would I say something so stupid?

"That was really good!" Derrick laughs, wiping a stray tear from his eye.

I look up to my deskmate in surprise. "R-really?"

"Yeah! And you do have a point. I guess I wouldn't hit a guy with glasses."

"S-so you'll reconsider?!" I blurt out, hanging on to the last bit of hope I have left.

Derrick finally stops laughing and smiles warmly at me. "No, I don't think I will."

Before I even have the chance to turn back around, the sound of Mr. Buck being electrocuted fills my ears.

"WINNER!" declares the game's announcer as the blue electrician dances and the other characters clap.

"Sorry, Kaylin." Derrick chuckles.

My attention immediately shifts when I hear a door open down the hall, followed by some shuffling in the kitchen. My curiosity turns to trembling when I realize that Mrs. Drake couldn't possibly be alone in there. Who else could be with her? I look around the room, but the others don't seem to take notice of the noise as they go through the play-by-play of the game's last round.

All at once, the lights in the living room turn off. I let out a gasp as endless possibilities run through my mind. Could the power have gone out? Not if the TV is still on. Could something have short-circuited? Could someone have turned the lights off? What sort of nefarious reason could someone have to do that?

I turn to see a faint orange glow coming from the other side of the room, accompanied by two shadowy figures. One of them has to be Mrs. Drake, but I can't help but tremble as I glance at the two! And who's the tall, foreboding figure beside her?!

As the two figures approach Derrick, one of them begins to sing:

Happiest birthday, child of ours

Happiest birthday, light of our lives

Live years of joy and happiness

And know that we hold you so dear

I look to Derrick, whose face is illuminated by the glow of what I've come to realize is a candle sitting atop a birthday cake. One of his brows twitches as he forces a smile.

"Well? Aren't you going to make a wish?" asks his mom, cake in hand.

Derrick sighs. Then, closing his eyes, he blows out the candle.

"Yay!" Brittney says. She claps, but nobody else joins in.

"Mom," Derrick starts, once again forcing a smile. "I did tell you I didn't want to have cake tonight, right?"

"I thought you were only talking about dinner," Mrs. Drake says, her smile fading. "Besides, it's tradition to have cake on birthdays!"

"I know, but..." Derrick starts, flashing a worried glance in my direction before turning back to his mom. "Can't we save it for later?"

"Why don't we ask your friends if they're comfortable with— I mean, if they'd like to have some before we put it away?" Mrs. Drake suggests.

"I'll have some cake!" Brittney hollers, waving her arms in the air.

Kevin sighs. "You and that sweet tooth. You are way too excited for this."

Mrs. Drake laughs. "Of course, Brittney. You'll get some cake. How about you, Kevin?"

"Sure," Kevin shrugs.

"And how about you?" Mrs. Drake says, turning to me. "Would you like some cake?"

No, no! I want to shout. But instead, I bite my tongue and fold my hands in my lap, pressure building within me from the weight of everyone's stares. How am I supposed to get out of this?!

"Y-yes, please," I finally manage.

What have I done?! I could have at least said 'no thank you!'

"Then that settles it!" Mrs. Drake says, spinning on her heel and heading to the dining room.

Once she's gone, Derrick and I share a look. His brows are turned upward, and his blue eyes almost seem to be asking me if I really want to go through with this.

A quivering sigh escapes me as I bury my head in my knees. I want to go home.

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

I poke at the chocolate cake in front of me with the plastic fork in my trembling hand. I don't dare look up from the portable balcony Brittney and I are on, lest I be faced with the reality that I'm actually sharing dessert with pertheans. At least I'm not on the table's surface like I feared I would be, but I can't decide if being closer to these pertheans' faces as they eat their cake is any better.

"This cake is super good!" Brittney says, shoveling a big bite of what I'm certain is only frosting into her mouth. "My compliments to the chef!"

"Oh, it's not homemade," Mrs. Drake laughs, "it's from Stanley's. It was the only chocolate one they had, too."

"Store-bought, huh? I never would have known!" Brittney says as she examines the hunk of dessert on her fork. "Is chocolate your favorite, Derrick?"

Derrick, poking at his slice of cake with a fork, doesn't answer.

"Uh, Derrick?" Brittney tries again.

"Huh? What was the question?" Derrick looks up from his plate to the balcony Brittney and I are on.

"Is chocolate your favorite type of cake?" she asks.

"I don't know," he answers, returning his gaze to the plate in front of him. "I like a lot of different flavors. It might be John's favorite, though."

"Oh, if only the two of you were able to celebrate your birthday together," Mrs. Drake sighs, glancing at the banner that bears both of the brothers' names. "It's a shame we can't even wish John a happy birthday over the phone since he's away from Perthea."

"You know, you could have been on Erimathea too right now if you had studied harder," a low voice rumbles.

The room quickly quiets down to a deafening silence as Mr. Drake's statement hangs in the air. Dropping my fork, I reluctantly look up from the cake in front of me. I've avoided looking at Derrick's dad since we sat down, and now is the first time I'm getting a good look at him. His brown hair is a bit darker than his son's, and while Derrick's blue eyes are warm and welcoming, his dad's blue eyes are cold and narrow. I can't help but shiver in my seat as I gaze at him from the balcony.

"Well, studying abroad was more of John's thing," Derrick says. "I'm happy where I am."

"Hm, but you could have at least graduated early like your brother if you hadn't blown that equivalency exam," his dad continues. "Each subject on that darned test was 400 koroz."

"Jason," Mrs. Drake whispers, leaning in closer to her husband. "Maybe now isn't the best time for this, hm?"

Mr. Drake sighs before taking another bite of his cake. "It's just that I want both of our sons to succeed, Dianne. And Derrick still has a lot of catching up to do if he plans on getting into a decent university like his brother."

"You say that like I'm behind," Derrick pipes up from across the table. "I'm still getting good grades, and I'm on track to graduate."

"Hmph," Mr. Drake huffs. "Dropping out of a school like Pacific still won't look good on your applications, in my opinion."

"Jason, please," Mrs. Drake pleads.

My insides begin to twist and churn as my heartbeat quickens. I don't like where this is going.

"But I'm back to finish what I started. Isn't that enough?" Derrick says, narrowing his eyes at his dad.

Mr. Drake doesn't miss a beat, and narrows his eyes right back. "If you ask me, you should have stayed put at Pacific instead of running away from your problems. Instead, you let a little gossip run you out of a good school."

"Maybe we should talk about something more positive," Mrs. Drake laughs nervously. "You know, the yellow flowers on this cake are part of the reason—"

"I didn't run away, Dad," Derrick says, raising his voice. "I moved on, just like anyone else would have done."

Something breaks in my heart when I hear the shift in Derrick's tone, and I grab onto the edge of the balcony's table in an attempt to ground myself as the world begins to spin around me.

"Hey," Brittney whispers, tapping on my shoulder. "Kaylin? Are you okay?"

I open my mouth to answer, but the words don't come. I look down at my trembling hands as my breathing quickens and tears begin to blur my vision. This isn't good. This isn't good at all.

Mr. Drake raises his volume to match his son's. "You still called it quits when it got hard. You threw away everything you worked so hard for! Do you know how much it even cost to put you two in that school?"

"Please, you two! Settle down!" Mrs. Drake begs.

"And your brother!" Mr. Drake continues. "Did he let a little rumor decide his future for him?"

"It wasn't a little rumor, and he wasn't even involved!" Derrick retorts.

"But look where he is now! If you would have stopped fooling around and focused on what really mattered, you could have been lightyears ahead of where you are now!" Mr. Drake sighs, cutting into his cake with his fork. "If you put in the work like John did, you could have—"

Derrick jumps up from his seat and pounds the table. "Look! I'm not John, okay?! I'm sorry I'm not your favorite son!"

Mr. Drake rises. His tall, tall frame towers above the table and everyone around it, including Derrick. He stares his son down, his narrowed eyes seething with rage.

The edges of my vision begin to fade to black as my core tightens and my trembling becomes completely uncontrollable. I'm going to die here!

Mr. Drake stares down his son for only a moment before abruptly picking up his plate and leaving the table. He sets his plate in the sink and retreats down the hall, the loud slam of a door acting as his final addition to the conversation.

Derrick sighs, tearing his gaze away from the hall. That's when he finally sees me. His eyes widen, and he lets out a faint gasp.

"Kaylin?" Brittney says, placing a hand on my back. "Are you—"

Immediately, I turn away from Derrick and into Brittney's shoulder. Sob after gut-wrenching sob escapes me as tears refuse to stop falling from my eyes.

"Shh, it's okay," Brittney whispers, wrapping her arms around me. "It's over now."

"I-I—" I stutter as I try not to choke on my own sobs. "I want to go home."

[ofthemorningstars]

Flurries and Flirtations (Part 2)

TerzOmega ~ Smut below the cut 3.1k words Part 1 Ao3 Version Terzo and Omega are snowed in at their hotel during an unplugged tour. What will they get up to? ---

They headed for the bathroom together and waited outside the large walk-in shower for the water to heat up. Terzo grimaced at the lack of a bathtub, wanting to soak. “No fireplace, no bathtub… None of the comforts of winter! I never thought I would miss the ministry, but I am wanting the luxuries of my quarters today.” Terzo pouted at this, just a little. Omega found the jut of his lower lip to be incredibly endearing. He wanted to grab it with his teeth. 

“Hey, at least we got to go out in the snow together. That would never happen at home.” Omega winced as he heard himself call their glorified prison a home, but it was where Terzo was, so he didn’t have another word for it. He'd follow Terzo to hell and back. Maybe even literally, someday…

“At least we GOT snow. That would never happen back home,” Terzo tried to joke, but Omega could see a hint of sadness behind his eyes, could feel it over their bond. Omega dragged him underneath the spray of the showerhead, hoping to melt it away. 

Terzo liked his water at temperatures that rivaled the heat of the pit itself, but Omega didn’t mind, so long as Terzo was comfortable. The room quickly filled with a thick veil of steam. They lathered one another’s skin with Terzo’s favorite body wash, a rich cream that smelled of vanilla and sandalwood. Omega dimly felt Terzo’s body relax even further under the hot water through the remaining threads of their connection and worried that Terzo might soon find himself unable to stand. He decided to keep a watchful eye on him just in case. 

Terzo waited for his conditioner to sit after Omega had scrubbed at his scalp with shampoo, ever careful of his claws. Terzo leaned back against him, and he took a moment to enjoy the press of their bodies. Skin to skin contact with his husband always felt healing; it was just… right. Terzo let his eyes fall shut when Omega began to hum to him. Omega wondered how he had gotten so lucky, to be able to call Terzo his own… to have been able to call him his own for nearly his entire summoning, no less. Terzo had spent more of his life with Omega than without him, and yet he still wanted to be with him, a beast of a man, when he could have any human of his choosing instead. Omega’s chest tightened, heart swelling with a love so strong that Terzo could feel ghosts of it through the last remaining thread of Omega’s quintessence, one that he was holding on tightly to. Terzo sighed happily. 

“I love you.” Terzo spoke softly, but his words reverberated through Omega’s skull. It was Omega’s turn to close his eyes. 

They didn’t leave from under the steady stream of water until it began to run cold. Terzo scoffed when Omega took over toweling him off, making sure he was bone dry before he let him leave the bathroom, worried about him getting ill. “I am not as fragile as you seem to think I am, amore,”  Terzo protested, but let Omega fuss anyway. “Says you,” Omega retorted, sticking his forked tongue out at him playfully. He watched as Terzo’s eyes zeroed in on his mouth before quickly looking away, swallowing hard. Omega hid a knowing smirk, maintaining a mask of innocence as they returned to the bedroom. He grabbed Terzo, pulling him close before flopping down onto the bed ungracefully, dragging Terzo with him. Terzo yelped, and to Omega’s delighted amusement, smacked at his arm. Omega nuzzled the side of Terzo’s face, practically purring at the prospect of having the next uninterrupted 24 hours together. He tightened his hold on the man in his arms, scheming up how they could make the most of this gift they’d been given. “Is this better? Would you rather I be rough with you?” Omega asked, flashing his fangs. Terzo’s light flush deepened. “Maybe. So what if I do?” Terzo quipped back, only half joking if the reddened tips of his ears were any indication.

“Mm. I can arrange for that, if you’d like.” Omega ran his nose lightly up the line of Terzo’s jaw. Omega suddenly flipped Terzo onto his back and he yelped again, sounding surprised. Omega kissed him hard then, silencing his protests before they could begin. Terzo broke away to catch his breath.

“Back again so soon?” Terzo quipped breathlessly. “Did I ever really leave, tesoro?” “I wish you wouldn’t,” Terzo angled his face up to catch Omega’s lips, hungry and full of want. “Someday I never will again,” Omega assured him, claws tracing across his cheekbone. “Promise?” Terzo tried to joke, but his eyes were sincere. “Promise.” This kiss was full of tenderness, the two of them making sure to take their time. Omega reached out to him with his quintessence again, wanting to pour the love and admiration he was feeling into Terzo. Wanting him to know just how much he meant to him. A single tear rolled down Terzo’s face as his senses were flooded with Omega’s affection. “Amore mio, I…” Terzo choked up, unable to finish the thought. He didn’t need to.

Omega wiped away Terzo’s tear with the back of a clawed finger, kissing Terzo’s eyes, then his forehead. His mouth began to make its way down Terzo’s body, stopping every few inches to praise him. He took his time, worshiping every angle and curve. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, looking up to meet Terzo’s heavily lidded eyes. “So beautiful…” He swirled his tongue around Terzo’s navel. “And you’re all mine,” Omega growled, nipping at his hip for emphasis. Terzo whined, biting his lip as Omega traveled lower.

Omega settled himself between Terzo’s legs, kissing the tip of Terzo’s cock, already hard for him. He could feel Terzo hold his breath as he moved even lower, encouraging Terzo to spread wide. Omega’s hands slid under his ass, supporting him. He kissed and bit his way down Terzo’s inner thighs, then back up, bruises blooming in his wake. Terzo gasped as Omega’s mouth made contact with his hole, licking with the flat of his tongue. Omega ran both sides of his forked tongue along his rim independently, teasing him mercilessly. His breath was hot on Terzo’s taint. Omega could feel the sensations coursing over their bond, chasing them. 

When Omega hummed for added stimulation as he increased his speed, Terzo’s hips nearly arched off the bed. Omega began to grind against the mattress, hopelessly turned on by the responsiveness of Terzo’s body. He wished that he could bring his fingers into play, that he could thrust and massage and milk, cursing his claws. Instead his tongue dipped inside, eliciting a reaction from his lover all the same. Terzo whimpered pitifully, his thighs clamping down around Omega’s ears. Omega knew Terzo wanted to touch himself. He also knew that Terzo wanted to be good for him. 

Omega glanced up, not really needing to check visually on how Terzo was doing, but wanting to see his lover’s face contorted in ecstasy. Terzo’s face was a perfect mask of bliss as he writhed beneath Omega’s touch. He watched as Terzo’s hand twitched towards his cock, but he stopped himself. Good boy, Omega projected his thoughts towards Terzo. All Terzo could manage in response was a long, low moan. 

“Omega, please…” Terzo begged, needy. Omega reluctantly tore himself away from his work. “Tell me what you need, mio amato,” Omega urged gently. He squeezed Terzo’s ass, claws digging. “I need you inside me,” Terzo huffed, thighs tightening their hold as he felt the bolt of lust that shot through Omega at his words. Omega closed his eyes to the feeling, letting his desire overtake him.

“On your knees,” Omega directed, disentangling himself from Terzo’s legs. Terzo eagerly complied with his ass up, face pressed against the bed, his back in a deep arch, breath shallow with anticipation. While Terzo got into position, Omega scrambled to retrieve a bottle of lube from one of their bags, cursing himself for not having the forethought to set one out when they had arrived at the hotel. They had simply been too exhausted the night before to do anything other than collapse into bed together and sleep.

Omega returned to the bed and hastily prepared himself, desperate to be inside of his husband. Again he wished he could bury his fingers inside of Terzo, but right now his head was swimming too much to bother retrieving his mask to use its glamour magic in order to temporarily rid himself of his claws. Instead he lined himself up and slowly pushed inside, inch by delicious inch, releasing a shuddering breath. Terzo let out a guttural groan, burying his face in the sheets, panting as he adjusted to Omega’s considerable size. Terzo looked back at Omega over his shoulder after a moment, silently begging him to start moving.

Gripping Terzo’s hips firmly, Omega began to thrust, driving the smaller man into the mattress. Through his quintessence, Omega could feel the same overwhelming fullness, the same sweep of his cock against his prostate that Terzo felt. Terzo, in turn, felt his own tight warmth the way Omega did. Their senses started to meld together, the boundaries between their bodies and minds blurring, ceasing to have any meaning. Soon they were both slick with sweat, and Terzo began to press back into Omega’s hips, desperate for more. Again Terzo’s hand twitched toward his cock, and again he denied himself. “Nng. You’re being such a good boy for me today,” Omega praised him through gritted teeth. Terzo sobbed, clawing at the sheets. Omega picked up his pace, riding him hard and fast. His tail wrapped possessively around Terzo’s leg as Terzo began to mewl and beg incoherently, further entwining them together; the overwhelming need to be close to his partner was threatening to drive Omega mad.

Omega was enraptured as Terzo began to moan his name over and over like a prayer, getting a little louder with each thrust. Soon Terzo was too winded to speak at all, moaning wordlessly instead. Omega tightened his grip on Terzo’s hips, claws digging into tender flesh, enjoying the pinch of pain as he felt it hum over their connection.

As Omega began to feel Terzo slipping he tried to hold him back, not wanting it to end yet. Terzo cried out, pleading, so close to the edge. Omega rode him for another minute more before his grip on his own restraint finally gave out, no longer able to fight off the inevitable. He allowed Terzo his release; Terzo nearly screamed as he came, untouched. Omega came deep inside with a snarl as he felt Terzo tighten around him. He gave a few last thrusts as he rode out the waves, the world going white before slowly, slowly coming back into focus. Omega pulled out reluctantly, wanting to stay entwined with Terzo but too exhausted to continue to support his own weight. As he pulled away he took a moment to admire his work, watching his seed leak out of Terzo. Satisfied, he collapsed on the bed beside his lover, gathering Terzo’s trembling form into his arms before covering them both with the blankets. Terzo was boneless, still trying to catch his breath. It was Terzo’s turn to project his love to Omega, and Omega closed his eyes to it, letting it wash over him and infiltrate every cell of his body. He welcomed it. He pressed a kiss to the top of Terzo’s head, inhaling deeply. He wanted to commit this day to memory. Terzo tried moving impossibly closer, settling for slotting a leg between Omega’s. He could feel Terzo begin to doze and started to follow, when suddenly there was a sharp jolt of sorrow along their bond. Something was wrong. “Terzo?” Omega asked softly, voice full of concern. Terzo sniffled, but didn’t answer right away. Omega stroked his hair, giving him a moment. “I don’t want to go home… I do not want to leave this room. I wish that we could stay in our own world together forever,” Terzo whispered. “No one else has ever known a love like this, I know it. The world is cruel to try and keep us apart.” Omega’s heart sank at feeling Terzo’s pain. He usually tried not to think too hard about their circumstances, as a rule, for the same reasons. “Maybe we could run away together,” Omega joked weakly, knowing all of the reasons that would never work. He could never blend in, couldn’t even exist in human society without that damned mask, an artifact that in itself wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. “That’s not funny,” Terzo croaked, hastily trying to wipe away tears before Omega could see them. Omega didn’t know why he bothered, as though he couldn’t feel the sadness reverberating through him. “The Imperator won’t be around forever, you know,” Omega reminded him softly; they had talked about this often, a common sticking point for them. He could feel Terzo roll his eyes. “Si, but it’s not as though I am the next in line,” Terzo spat bitterly. “Who knows what diabolical scheme she has planned for when she finally kicks it.” He sounded frustrated, although Omega knew him well enough to know the frustration wasn’t with him. This was something that had been building his whole life. 

“Surely it can’t be as bad as this,” Omega mused, more to himself than to Terzo. “It doesn’t matter what she has planned. I really do think that the instability and chaos could be enough for us to get the upper hand we need to make some real change.” Terzo sighed, burying his face deeper into Omega’s chest, taking a few breaths before turning to speak. “I hope you’re right, amore. I worry about how all this will end.” Terzo sounded defeated. Omega grimaced.

“Those endings are one possibility. Why not focus on all of the countless others? There’s a world out there where it’s just you and me, forever. Where we can live openly, without fear. Where we can make a real difference. We could change the ministry, overthrow it, hell, leave it altogether for a secluded cabin somewhere.” Omega ran his claws through Terzo’s hair as he spoke, trying to soothe away the anguish he could feel taking hold of his husband. “It’s not just that, mia ombra. Even if all of that is true…” Terzo trailed off in a whisper.

Oh no. Omega could have felt where this was going from a mile away even without his quintessence. He desperately wanted to change the subject, to do anything to stop Terzo from reopening this wound again. But it would be wrong for Omega to speak over him, to ignore his pain. Instead, he pulled Terzo against his body tighter and waited for him to speak. “Even if there is an ending where we get to live together freely… There is still no ending where we get to have a family. Where…” Terzo choked up, unable to finish the thought as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. 

Omega’s heart broke, not just for Terzo, but for his own pain over everything that they would never have. For his millennia of existence, Omega had never given much thought to human concepts like “settling down”. That was something that people did, not infernal beings like himself. And yet, from the moment he’d laid eyes on Terzo, he had been a changed man. He wanted to spend eternity with him, wanted to wake up next to him every morning. He wanted to build a life together. Wanted to raise a new generation together. Wanted to watch Terzo blossom into the nurturer he always knew him to be. Wanted to see more of the side of Terzo he only got to see when a fan handed him a baby wearing his paint on tour, or when he was calling up the ministry’s little ones for children’s service on Sundays. “I don’t care about preserving my legacy, Omega. It’s not about that,” Terzo collected himself enough to murmur between sniffles. “I just want a family with you.” 

Terzo was right. It didn’t matter if they were human or ghoul, or somewhere in between. It didn’t matter if they were natural or adopted, although the image of Terzo carrying… No, he absolutely could not go there. He quickly shoved the thought out of his mind, but it was too late. He could feel Terzo’s face begin to heat up. Yes, he would do whatever it took to raise a family with Terzo. Yes, his heart shattered every time they talked about it and reinforced the impossibility of it. This was a conversation they’d had a thousand times, and he would happily have it a thousand more, but not today. Please, not today. Today was a rare gift, one that he didn’t want to sully with tears over things that could never be. Instead, Omega focused hard on pouring every ounce of the infinite love he had within him into the man in his arms with his quintessence. Terzo’s body began to heat up, overwhelmed with emotion, both Omega’s and his own. He hid his face in Omega’s chest, but did his best to return the show of affection. Omega let the feeling wash over him. He buried his face in Terzo’s hair, drinking in his scent openly and unapologetically this time.

They lay like that, basking in each other’s love, until the march of time could no longer be ignored when Terzo’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since before last night’s show, and his body was not happy about being ignored. Terzo groaned, irritated. Omega could feel how badly he didn’t want to leave the bed and chuckled. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to get up. We can order room service. She stuck us here, so she’s paying,” Omega assured him. He felt Terzo’s mood brighten considerably at the prospect.

They ate in bed together, Terzo leaning heavily on Omega as they fed each other. Omega kept his word about letting Terzo stay in bed all day; they cuddled and kissed and talked, sharing languid touches, not more than an inch between them all the while. When their touch grew heated and Terzo was once again begging for him, Omega grabbed a pillow to prop Terzo’s hips up for easier access. As he entered Terzo again, he echoed his words from earlier that morning.

“Terzo. My love. My light… I love you.”

[mishlady]

Kinktober Day 9

Day 9 of @dreamlandcreations's prompts: threesome • aftercare  • gangbang

I'm a bit sad that there seems to be no official ship name for these three: Soap, Gaz, and Roach.

~~~~~~~

Sweet Afterglow

The three of them laid there, still panting and sweaty and covered in all kinds of fluids. They had all recently gotten back from leave; leave in which they didn't get to spend together. They were a mess of limbs, so happy to be together after their time apart. Soap was the first one to stir, his hands stroking Gaz and Roach's sides.

"Let's at least wipe off," he said, pressing kisses to their faces. He gave a few to Gaz's face, then paid special attention to Roach's face. All three of them knew, and understood, why Soap needed to do that. Why Roach craved the sweet softness of knowing he was still desirable. Roach flushed, his face heating up as he playfully pushed at Soap.

"Jaaaaaay," he whined, dissolving into giggles as Soap nuzzled into him more and gave him some tickles. Gaz squirmed as well, a wide grin on his face, and all three of them giggled. It was a nice thing for all of them, to have times like this to destress and just - be. Gaz nudged at them, getting their attention.

"Time for some clean-up?" Gaz phrased it as a question, but Soap and Roach heard it for what it was - a gentle order to get them started towards the bathroom. The giggles continued as they untangled all the limbs and made their way to the bathroom.

"My legs are jelly," Roach said, and over exaggerated his leg wobbles. That got a snort from Soap and an eye roll from Gaz as they all made room for each other in the bathroom. Gaz got the shower running as Soap gathered Roach up for more light "kitten kisses." Roach tried half heartedly to hide his face and the burn scars, feeling the start of a drop. Soap noticed, and gathered Roach up in a full body hug, hooking his chin over Roach's shoulder.

"You're beautiful, Gary," Johnny whispered, feeling Gary hug him back and bury his head in the crook of Johnny's neck. Kyle came around to hug Gary from behind, and Kyle and Johnny felt Kyle fully relax.

"So pretty," Kyle said, kissing the back of Gary's neck. Gary put a hand on each of their hips, squeezing each in a silent thanks.

"You both are pretty too," Gary replied firmly. He wanted to make sure they knew they were pretty, not just him. Johnny and Kyle agreed with him, and they all shuffled into Kyle's larger than normal shower. This time on leave they had crashed at Kyle's place, not willing to be apart for too long. After washing up and drying, Kyle and Johnny helped Gary put on the lotions that helped his scar tissue remain as supple as possible. In return, Gary put lotions on them, especially their faces.

"At least Kyle does this regularly," Gary said, pouting playfully, as he applied the facial cream to Johnny's face. "You do want to be pretty for me, right??" Johnny spluttered as Kyle and Gary giggled. Kyle already had his face cream on and was adjusting his head wrap to protect his hair.

"I am pretty! Just ask anyone!" Johnny exclaimed before settling down. He realized he had been baited and just stuck his tongue out. Johnny got up, pressing kisses to both heads before going and making tea for all of them. Kyle and Gaz made appreciative noises as he came back in with the tray full of drinks and snacks. It also helped that he was still delightfully naked.

"Oooo our very own naked server! How did we get so lucky, Kyle?" At Gary's quip, grins appeared on Johnny and Kyle's faces.

"Well, I'm the lucky one with you two here," Johnny said, setting the tray down then shrugging on the fluffy robe Kyle handed him. They all had matching robes in their favorite fabric type and favorite color. Their routine for aftercare had been settled on after some ups and downs, including what Price had called a "outright drunken pub brawl" even though they weren't drunk. They had just let their resentments and sulking get to the point where the sparring had devolved into that.

The three of them cuddled on the couch, a podcast playing for background noise. Kisses and gentle caresses were the name of the game until they were ready for bed. Until then, they remained sleepy and relaxed in each other's company, feeding each other snacks and leaning against each other until even they couldn't see where each of them started and ended.

Life was good.