#I remember I found the Grunt when I was just about as tall as him.

[chaoskull]

Adolphe Weisz - Her Favorite Pet

Devoided of Words

Lion El'Johnson x fem!reader

Summary: Lion, who is yet to learn how to speak, is conflicted with a feeling that consumes him when he sees a young woman

It itches his skin, these hides he is yet to know the name of, they drape over his limbs as if to fit perfectly, he doesn't understand their purpose yet, it must be for protection, Lion assumed as he passes through the long halls of the castle, he hasn't explored it entirely, and so, when unsupervised, he starts wandering. The only sound to be heard was of his constant strut, very far from what he was used to, as he was to be constantly aware of his surroundings when alone in the forest.

Attentive to the stillness around him, he is surprised by a quick sound, one he finally recognizes, a sniffle, someone must be irritated by the presence of the constant dust on these halls, as he is.

As he heads to investigate such noize he notices a girl, she is laying on a push couch in one of the many rooms of the place, he observes captivated by her as she seems to look at a ‘book’, whatever those were called.

He finds them irritating at the time, whenever one is brought, they only present him simple language lessons, nothing of his interest. He failed to realize the girl looked back at him, it was far too late, his eyes were locked on her own. How has he distracted himself so intensely, he questions himself.

He presents himself to the girl, who mistakes him for a man, not a beast, as he is. Luther had found him and made a human facade for the boy, but Lion was no boy to those who looked at him. He was far too tall, his hair was long, now well kept - it troubled highly the maids that tended to him, as they were afraid of their lives at each hiss and growl he'd make when they cleaned him.

She looks at him curiously, a greeting leaves her mouth and he doesn't understand what she said, can't recreate the sound in mind even as it was spoken, but he felt an urge he was to never find in the loneliness of the forest.

An urge to remain close, protect, keep, hide her from others. They don't deserve to be near her, he tells himself in his mind, she's his, he will soon devote himself to her, his hunt, his nest, or 'room' as the black hair man told him, 'room' is where to take her for now, and so he approaches.

Tentatively, she tries again, "Hello", he doesn't know how to answer, but to that he grunts as he sees the older males do when they greet each other, she seems convinced, but what she did not expect was to be lifted to his arms as he starts taking her away. She tries to escape his grasp, but he is far too strong, a look in his face of determination chills her entirely, hoping her fate was to a quick death.

Something was extremely different about this man she thinks, and she remembers the warnings of the knights, a boy found in the forest, he did not speak, nor did he know our words.

Terrified, she screams and he stops to look down at her. She is shocked to find his dark emerald eyes carving her soul out with just his gaze, he seems alert to her reaction, and so she tentatively places a hand on the side of his face and carefully moves it to the side so he stops looking at her so intensely. ‘What am I even doing?’, she thinks, panicking internally.

Confused, he does not understand such a gesture and so he moves to face her again and does the same to her. She is left baffled by his reaction, not expecting him to return it at all, as he holds her for the moment steps were heard by him, but he doesn't move, as he looks down at her mesmerized, his legs were locked in place, and so she realizes he was relishing on the fact she had touched him, and at that he saw the action as an affectionate one.

"You..." She tentatively starts, but quickly stops remembering his lack of knowledge in their language.

The interaction quickly stops as she feels hands taking her away from his hold, a knight grabbing the Lion by the scruff of his shirt drags him away as others try to get information out of her. Her ears were deaf to their words, eyes stuck on the boy as he as hit and yelled by the older men, tears start forming on her eyes as she realizes this was her fault for screaming, they had heard her, but how could she know of his true gentle nature when what he did was take her away from her place abruptly without a word, she was defenseless at the time.

She watches him attentively, the men talking to her suddenly realize she was looking at the boy, distraught by the scene, one blocks her view to finally catch her attention, he asks if the boy has done anything to her and she shakes her head, feeling as if words would betray her. Finally, he clears the commotion "Take Lion to Luther" he commands.

"Is that the boy, the one from the forest?" She asks, and the man responds with a nod and a grunt, just as the Lion did, she notes. "You are to not see him again without permission, as he will follow this rule as well", with that he turns around to accompany the others as they leave, dragging the boy with them.

As they leave, he looks back at her, there is a bruise forming on his cheek, still in shock she stays and watches until they finally turn to leave her sight, in panic she runs towards them as quietly as possible to discreetly follow.

Part 2 will come soon!

[deerydear]

Are we talking articulated, origami, or one stiff piece?

...or imagine something like this...

in a perfect world what character would you own a life size cardboard cutout of. you get one and I want you to answer in the tags with your heart. if you asked me right now I would say columbo

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.

if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!

—Sole Survivor

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble. 

He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all. 

Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you. 

Alive.

It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.

And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did. 

“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face. 

“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with. 

You know your family loved you. 

“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath. 

“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.” 

“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!” 

“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.” 

You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation. 

“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly. 

“What, then?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”

He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.

You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened. 

“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious. 

“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk. 

“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”

You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly. 

“It’s a compliment.”

“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.

“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.

“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”

It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her. 

He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon. 

“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.

“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of. 

Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other. 

There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks. 

You wave enthusiastically back. 

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”

[marwhoa]

request: omgggg <33 did not know u did ohshe!!! i love the way u did mori u did him justice!!! is it possible to for you to write mori x tiny reader please? i just find the height difference very cute and comical. thank u! 💕

🝮 mori-senpai headcanons

morinozuka takashi x short!reader

author’s note: I like Mori :)) my favorite is Hikaru, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t write for anyone else uwu 💕

word count: 1.2k

ఌ As he does with Honey, Mori can’t help but hold you. For one, he doesn’t want to accidentally knock into you, since you’re a bit out of his peripheral vision, and he has a habit of zoning out if there’s no sense of danger! If you hate being picked up, he’ll respect that, but do note that he is crying a river mentally.

ఌ secretly finds it irresistibly adorable when you’re too short to reach things and need his help. One of his fondest memories is when he just happened to be in the right place at the right time in the library!

During study time, Mori wandered off to the library to search for books on the women’s court in the Heian Period. While he was searching, he turned down one of the aisles to catch you grumbling under your breath about how “ all the books I need just had to be placed right out of my reach, what a joke! “

He didn’t intervene! Just watched fondly as you pulled a step stool over to solve the problem yourself (you’re independent! surely you have a few tricks up your sleeve to navigate a taller world?).

Thing is, the step stool wasn’t tall enough, so you resorted to standing on your tippy toes and trying to nudge the book into a free-fall. That is when Mori intervenes, as he watched the book shelf teeter under your inadvertently-tugging hand.

“ Y/N! “

It all happened so quick. You swore the world seemed to slow as the stool beneath you flipped and the books began cascading down the shelves towards you. With your hands crossed over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and braced for the impact. While your butt hit the floor hard, you were surprised to find your back never met the same fate.

Instead, there was a light pressure and warmth radiating from the small of your back.

Opening your eyes hesitantly, you tuned in to the pained grunt and watched as Mori was hovering over you. The weight of the bookshelf was heavy on his back, but nothing could convince him to step aside and let you take the brunt of this instead.

“ Oh god, Mori?! You—“

You were at a complete loss of words. Thankfully others in the library quickly noticed and came to help lift the bookshelf. Before you were both free, you didn’t miss the out-of-breath whisper by your ear.

“ At least you’re safe.. ”

ఌ Stays close to you in crowded situations. He will use his height and strength to his advantage to ensure you have a comfortable amount of wiggle room regardless of where you’re at—the cafeteria during high traction times, the commoners’ train while it’s rush hour, malls experiencing season-high discounts, etc. Regardless of the setting, you can count on him.

ఌ Mori can tend to have cuteness aggression, and having a partner shorter than he is definitely contributes to that. He refuses to acknowledge he ever did this, but you can remember plain as day a particular study session in the third years’ science class after school.

As you sat across the table from Mori, yammering on and on about the current problem stumping you both, there was an odd creeping feeling that he wasn’t paying attention. Lo, and behold, as you rose your head to fact-check, you found Mori’s eyes just staring at you, clear as day that not a thought was processing behind those eyes.

Just before you could reprimand him, Mori shot up in his seat and rounded the table to stop at your side.

“ Whuh—“

Dumbly, you mumbled out a noise of confusion as his hands planted firmly on your cheeks and kneaded the flesh before then pushing until your face was scrunched up and making duck lips. You tried to swat him away but found your hand freezing in midair as an unfamiliar expression washed across his features.

Laughter. Mori had actually burst into laughter, a pure and genuine laugh that echoed in the room like the sun’s rays radiating in summer. You decided to let it slide for now.

ఌ Unlike the sweeter Honey, you tended to be more of a spitfire. A feisty fire that definitely fought back, and sometimes that worried Mori. While you could hold your own verbally with a silver tongue, some people can be a bit more… physically combative, as seen in the case with a particular vacation that landed Haruhi in danger with some particularly confrontative boys. While Mori wasn’t too much a fan of how frequently you could end up in danger, he was amused by how easily most of your enemies would tuck tail and run if he so much as glared them down from behind you.

And it was quite rewarding whenever you’d turn to look at him with a big triumphant grin, shamelessly declaring “ see ? you have nothing to worry about—they’re intimidated by me! “

ఌ Even though Mori yearns to dance with you whenever the host club holds parties, because of the size difference, he usually chickens out of even offering to dance with you. He’d hate to ruin an experience like that with you just because the difference in height is so comically large.

What he didn’t account for is your free spirited personality not caring one wink of how others would perceive you two dancing—you also know that he may be tall, but it’s not like your 3 feet tall compared to his 6’4 ass. At one of the most recent soirées, you almost-quite-literally swept him off his feet when you asked for a dance.

As you both took to the floor and swayed in each other’s arms, slowly the other partygoers began enraptured by the sight. Fortunately for you two, you had both melted so far into each other’s gaze and warmth that the others watching you had completely gone unnoticed.

Mori cursed himself for being so dumb and taking so long to ask a dance with you.

He also ended up purchasing his first set of photos from Kyoya’s personal collection. They had captured you both in such a perfect light and detail that he considered opening a museum in your honor. All just to show the world what a masterpiece you both made together.

He decided against it.

The photos instead sit upon the walls of his room, congregated on the exact spot he faces every night before bed.

ఌ Once y’all are together, you tend to rely on Mori a lot more, as per the rules of “ Girlfriend Incompetence ” or otherwise known as princess brain. Things you could very well do on your own are instead passed to him as something “ only he can do ! you couldn’t possibly do it yourself ?? “

A book on the higher shelf? Well, you could easily get a step stool, but why do that when you could bat your pretty li’l eyes at Mori-senpai and he would bring down the moon at your request?

A puddle obstructs your path? D’aw, well, just go around it! Or, you could turn to Mori with a pouty lip and a sweet little “ please? “ He’d sweep you up in an instant—an easy task with how much smaller you are—and easily traverse over the puddle. You would find yourself mentally lamenting just how much longer his legs are, but you’ll get over it since it grants you the privilege of being in his embrace.

[thehighladywrites]

THE AIRHEAD CHRONICLES

…AND THE MEETING

-> Pairing: Cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> Summary: Cassian remembers the first time he met you. He truly forgets what a mess you are sometimes, but you’re still his mess.

-> Author’s note: This is going to become a series where I add new headcanons and little drabbles. I love the idea of a bimbo/ditzy reader who’s a real sweetheart but isn’t really the brightest. No worries! As long as Cassian is here, you won’t have to worry about your safety (not that you were before) among other things. Also I’m either gonna make something where Azriel joins them once or I’m gonna make his own series.

part two part three

- Cassian honestly wondered how you were still alive sometimes. You’d do things that made his heart stop and you acted as if it was nothing at all.

- For instance, he’ll never forget the day that he met you.

- Cassian found you walking around in the middle of the night, all by yourself. He looked at you as if you were crazy, clad in a little black dress that was tight around your ass and almost had your tits spilling out. You walked right past him, not even noticing him staring at you.

- You were skipping around in the dangerous parts of velaris seemingly unknown about the dangers lurking around.

- This time of day, drunkards, rapists and robbers were everywhere though that thought simply wasn’t in your head

- No, you were looking up at the stars, admiring the different shades of violet, completely oblivious of the fact that you had caught the eyes of a group of men.

- They quickly made their way over to you when you stopped to pick up a flower in a nearby bush, you couldn’t help yourself, they looked so pretty!! How could you walk past them?

- “ Hey there baby, what is someone as pretty as you doing out here all alone?”

- What a nice man! You give them a sweet smile and explain what you’re doing.

- “ Oh hello! i’m just going for a walk. The sky is so beautiful tonight. I think starfall is near, don’t you?”

- You miss the predatory glint in their eyes, happy to be making some friends, something that happened quite often.

- “ Yeah, sure. How about you come with us and have a drink. We could get you something really delicious.”

- “ Really? I’m quite thirsty, that would be perfect! thank you guys!!” Wow, these guys were nice. One of them even had a hand on your lower back to guide you.

- But, wait- isn’t the bar that way? Maybe there’s another bar behind this alley. It was very dark but you were sure it was around here somewhere.

- Cassian had been following you and decided to intervene. Perhaps you already had a few drinks because no sane woman would willingly walk with these males into a dark pathway.

- “ What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a booming voice echoed through the alleyway.

- “ Mind your own business, Illyrian. We’re just taking out this lady out for some drinks, isn’t that right?” The males all nod and grunt in agreement. But you’re not paying attention to them. You’re looking at the towering man infront of you.

- Your glossed lips part in surprise, eyes growing comically large. You had never seen such a handsome guy before, totally your type!!!

- This guy was like a powerhouse—muscular, with huge battle-scarred wings. Wasn’t there a saying about Illyrian wings? And oh his eyes? Intense and a bit playful. Dressed in Illyrian leathers, he was the epitome of strength and confidence. He radiated authority and dominance.

- “ I think you better get out of here. Now.” He stepped forward as the others subconsciously took a step back. Only the guy that was talking to you remained in his position.

- “Yeah? Or what? You filthy low-born.”

- You were shocked at how quick this male had changed. He wasn’t the sweet guy that wanted drinks. Maybe-

- Before you could finish your thought, the tall Illyrian had punched him clean across his face, making you gasp. Your heels clicked against the cobblestones as you took a step back.

- The guy started got up but he didn’t fight back, he and his friends just ran away, leaving you behind. How rude! You really wanted your drink.

- “ Are you okay? You know, you really shouldn’t be walking around this late, especially alone.”

- How dare he lecture you after scaring away your friends like that?!! You scowled at him, your perfectly glossed lips pouting at the intruder.

- “ I was doing perfectly fine, in fact they were about to buy me refreshments before you so rudely chased them away.”

- He looked at you as if you had told him pigs could fly. With furrowed eyebrows, disbelief showed in his eyes. His frame was towering over you as he took a step closer to you.

- “Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, you do know why they took you here to this empty alley.”

- This male was crazy. You tilted your head, your jewelry jingling as you looked at him with confusion.

- “They were taking me out for drinks and we were looking for a bar. What could you possibly mean?”

- He stared at you for a while, deciding if he should tell you. Maybe you really didn’t know. While he wanted to warn you about following strangers into dark, creepy alleys, he also didn’t want to be the one to burst your bubble. He simply couldn’t shatter your innocent view and it made him surprisingly protective. But why was that? He didn’t even know your name, let alone enough about you to be feeling like this. Yet something in him told him to not let you go.

- “ How about I just take you home, you seem to have had an eventful night.”

- You pondered over it but accepted it nonetheless. Some company would be nice.

- The way back to your apartment was comfortably quiet. As you reached the door, you stopped and turned around. You offered your hand out for him to shake.

- “ That was a really quick walk. Oh, also thanks for walking me home. I’m Y/n by the way.”

- “ No worries, I’m Cassian.”

- He shook your hand and suddenly, everything brightened up. His entire world shifted as that golden thread snapped in place. There was a moment of clear truth, a chance for genuine happiness and authenticity to shine through.

- “ Oh, what a cute name. You should definitely have a nickname. Hmm, let’s see… I really like the sound of Cassie. I think it’s super adorable!” You looked up at him again, doe-eyed and blushy.

- He just stared at you wide-eyed, not able to form a single coherent sentence. Usually people loved talking you but this guy just kept quiet. You fidgeted uncomfortably because you really wanted his attention and if he wasn’t gonna give you some, you’d tease him a little for it.

- “ Um, alright, good night then Cassie. I hope to see you around since you now owe me a drink. Also you’re like really hot.” You pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and turned to open the door.

- Before he could respond you had already closed your door, leaving him behind with a flood of emotions, a beating heart and million questions.

[thecapricunt1616]

Peonies - c.b. oneshot

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): Carm let out a soft whimper, much more relaxed and carefree then he’d be when he was awake. That is why you loved when you’d brought up your fantasy of Carmy using you while you slept, and he was all for it immediately. When you asked him if you could wake him up as well - he thought about it for a moment but after a short few questions about what he was comfortable with - he decided he was for it 100%

♡ Chapter Inspo: Peonies are most commonly associated with romance, prosperity, and bashfulness. Some even believe they're a good luck charm of sorts, bringing good fortune to whoever receives them. Peonies also have some roots in Greek mythology. As one myth states, Apollo used to turn beautiful nymphs into peonies if Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, knew he was flirting with them.

♡ Summary: Carmy has his nights past favor gratefully returned.

♡ W/C: 1,267

♡ Posted Date: 04/21/2024

♡ A/N: OMG hello all! We are churning out these one shots while TB&HH is sorted out, THANK YOU oh dear lovely anon for your request that can be found here ♡ requests are still open, comments are encouraged, as are reblogs ! I hope you enjoy :) This is a follow up to Patchouli but of course both can be read as stand alone!! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Pre-discussed consensual somnophilia, m oral receiving, swearing, alluding to f receiving, fem reader referred to as girl - not fully edited **no use of y/n**

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 ���𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

You woke up with a sleepy smile on your face, the first thought on your mind being it’s the weekend. Ah, the weekend. The cherished Saturday and Sunday you got to spend with your beloved Bear. 

Since the restaurant did so well for itself - he was able to take the weekends off, so long as he made sure everything was done Friday which he always did, he’d never jeopardize the sacred time you two had together. It was his reprieve from the hectic kitchen, he didn’t know what ‘refreshed’ meant until he started spending weekends and evenings with his special girl. 

You felt his muscular chest pressed flush to your back, his strong nose nuzzled in the crook of your neck. There were soft hot puffs of air hitting your shoulder as he breathed, and you felt his lips touching the top of your shoulder blade with a sweet pressure, almost like a prolonged kiss. 

While his left arm was curled under your ribs, and his left hand had found its way underneath your (his) white shirt, and was cupping your breast, holding it lightly as he slept. His right arm was curled over your waist, and your hands were laced together sweetly. 

Not wanting to wake him too soon, you carefully arched your ass back to feel his morning wood standing tall and at attention. You smile to yourself, wondering if he’d fallen asleep last night remembering what you’d promised this morning, or if he was just having one of his wet dreams. 

You gently unfurled your fingers from his one at a time before carefully putting his muscular arm over his own side  and he grunted in his sleep, laying flat on his back and splaying his hand over his stomach. He’d been trained even while sleeping to subconsciously respond to you. 

Ever so carefully you detangle your legs from his sleeping ones, carefully sitting up and crawling beneath the covers of your shared California king. You settled on your knees between his legs, lightly rubbing his thighs. 

It was a failed attempt to not nuzzle your nose in the crook of his clothed thigh and his cock, taking a deep breath and nearly getting drunk off his heady musky scent, mixed with the delicious scent of dove soap from his shower last night and the laundry detergent you had picked out from the store. 

With light open mouth kisses, you kissed over his tented length, taking your right hand and rubbing over his thick yummy sex. You had to swallow extra saliva, he was quite nearly making you drool already. His cock jumped in your palm, causing you to smile proudly. 

Carm let out a soft whimper, much more relaxed and carefree then he’d be when he was awake. That is why you loved when you’d brought up your fantasy of Carmy using you while you slept, and he was all for it immediately. When you asked him if you could wake him up as well - he thought about it for a moment but after a short few questions about what he was comfortable with - he decided he was for it 100%

While he was sleeping, his noises were so pretty. They were soft and less reserved, it was easy to tell when he’d woken because instead of light airy whimpers and sweet gasps - it was hot grunts and sexy moans. You gently pushed his boxers out of the way, taking the seeping pink member to your lips, and planting sweet kisses over the head. 

He gasped softly in his sleep, his abs tightening for a moment and his hips shivering at the contact. You bit back a giggle at his sweet innocent reactions he’d otherwise be too anxious or embarrassed to show, but one of love and wonder for why he was so nervous to let you see this of him while he was awake. 

“So pretty” you whispered to yourself, pushing down his foreskin and watching in awe as a little dribble of pre bubbles from the tip and leaks down over the sensitive head. You licked your lips, looking up at him to see he was still fast asleep- but you could see his heartbeat in his neck. 

He was absolutely having a dream 

You stuck out your tongue most of the way, holding your tongue over the tip of his already weeping cock. He didn’t need it- but you knew how much he loved having his head sloppy and nasty. A thick hot drop of saliva dripped from your drooling tongue onto his sensitive tip, dripping down his shaft and over your fingers.

It was irresistible to blow on the wet trail it left and he whimpered cutely, his balls twitching since his cock was trapped in your hand. Leaning down slightly, you took the tip between your lips, kissing it lovingly before gently suckling on it, flicking your tongue over his leaking slit, moaning quietly at the taste of his salty sticky precum.   

Carm’s hips bucked up, a hot whine tearing from his throat and his stomach clenching. His cock felt hot and heavy on your tongue, the tip was an aggravated pink begging to be played with. You began stroking the bottom of his shaft after spitting into your hand, and sticking out your tongue as you take him into your  mouth, finding a steady rhythm with bobbing your head and jerking him with your hand. 

He moaned out, his back arching slightly “please-please please” he whimpered in his sleep, reaching down and feeling your head and then he was up. 

“Oh fuck” he said hotly, his voice husky and deep from sleep. He lifted his head and looked down at you with sleepy hooded eyes, a small smirk coming to his lips.  

“Jesus, babe. Thought I was dreamin’- what I do to deserve such a good girl mm?” He gently pets your hair, his thigh twitching when you gently massage his balls. 

“Oh- wow” he hummed, letting his eyes flutter shut and head fall back to the pillow comfortably. “Wow. I’m gonna cum like -baby I’m-ah- where did you learn that- what the fffff-“ he shot long hot ropes of seed down your throat, fisting the sheets and his hips shaking lightly. You smiled proudly, realizing that the porn video you’d seen on twitter had been true. You had seen someone massage the fleshy spot just beneath the balls and the guy came nearly on the spot, and a lot. 

His stomach and abs contracted in overstimulation as you worked him through it and he hissed as you flick your tongue over his head, milking the last few dribbles of cum out of his twitching softening cock. You kiss the tip gently, before trailing gentle kisses all down the base and to his thigh, over his hips and stomach. Gently releasing his cock over his stomach as he came down and you trailed kisses over his abs. 

“I think I fuckin blacked out for a second babe. Jesus fuck how did you learn that and why are you holdin’ out on me?” He asked and you giggled, tonguing over his nipple and he bit his lip, moaning softly. 

“Saw a video.” You replied, sucking gently on the small sensitive bud while you massage the other between your forefinger and thumb. He groaned softly, patting your bum 

“Done. Done. If I cum again I think you’ll literally break my balls get off me you succubus it’s your turn. On your back” he teased.  Goes without saying but you two didn't eat real food until the afternoon rolled around.

[chelseeebe]

‘til the world caves in: something in the orange

mdni 18+. smut. exfamous!steve x female reader. zombie apocalypse au! mentions of guns and violence throughout. no use of y/n!

a/n: this is my new iteration of the apocalypse au! i dabbled with it before but actually rlly like this one, matter of fact, most of the chapters are written already lmfao:) the famous part rlly is just there for this oneee specific scene i had in mind for a later part but it’s something different i guess

nobody cares who you are in the apocalypse. well, maybe except for you.

life before the outbreak had been weird enough for steve, his band had just started their rise to fame when all this shit went down.

it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be at 19 but money and fame weren’t anything he was gonna say no to.

and then news broke that people had started eating each other’s faces and now he was no longer this up and coming star, rather just some guy trying to stay alive with some girl he’d met fleeing new york.

six years was more than enough time for them to become best friends, travelling through various camps and groups of people before they ended up somewhere in the middle of indiana.

steve’s never been here before and he wishes he wasn’t here now.

there’s nothing for miles and now robin’s leg is fucked, he thinks it might be the end.

the buttfuck town of hawkins indiana would be their demise.

they’d collapsed on the fence of some building, too dehydrated and tired to care. accepting a certain death as robin cries softly next to him, their fingers entwined as death awaits.

they were pretty delirious when they were picked up by some group. a tall man with a thick moustache and a lady with a sweet voice, helping them across town to their compound.

he’s not entirely sure what had happened when they’d arrived, he’d been bustled into a room and remembers collapsing on the bed with a pounding in his head before blacking out.

-

turns out he was out for days, waking up in the dark confines of a tiny box room with nothing else around him. admittedly, the lack of robin in his immediate vicinity scared the shit out of him.

all he can remember is that her leg was infected and her head was starting to hurt which was never a good sign.

a small, curly haired lady bursts into the room, startled to see him standing, “oh! you’re awake! great,” she smiles.

“where am i?” he asks, like a petrified child.

“you’re in hawkins,” she nods, “you were in a pretty bad state when we found you.”

nothing had ever felt so befuddling, jolting him back into survival mode as he realises his bag was nowhere to be found.

“where’s robin? we need to.. we have to go,” steve rushes, fearing the worst.

“she’s good, i think she was in the cafeteria.. we can go and get some food if you’d like?” the kind lady offers, pity in her eyes.

he nods, sceptical as he follows her out of the room and through the massive doors. there’s laughter from the other side, amazed at the sight of the light bulbs glowing white. electricity. nothing like the candles and flashlights they’d been using for years.

robin jumps up from the table the second he walks through, hobbling over with a few grunts and groans.

“you’re awake! oh my god steve, i’ve been so worried,” she frets, throwing her arms around his neck, trying to ignore the stares from the strangers in the room.

“you’re okay? i thought..” he exhales, not wanting to finish his sentence. “i don’t know.. fuck,” now robin was here and alive and in his arms, the overwhelming feeling of ten people gawping at him sinks in.

there’s nothing familiar about this place, it’s nothing like the places they’d stayed in, it feels like before.

“come get some food,” robin ushers, placing her hand on his back and very slowly walking to the table, “it’s nice here,” she leans in to whisper, “everyone’s super nice, they even have electricity!” she marvels, helping him to the empty seat.

she pushes her plate towards him, beans and some sort of meat. he hadn’t had a substantial meal in what felt like months, living off of foraged cans and jerky.

the crowd seems to back off at this point, leaving him and robin to eat. to try and digest this place despite feeling like he was in some crazy dream.

“we found some stragglers, out at the old school,” he hears a voice from behind, talking about himself and robin, “they were in pretty bad shape.”

steve doesn’t look around, continuing to eat his portion of robin’s dinner instead.

turns out he didn’t have to, as you arrive at his table, shotgun still strapped to your back and a thick layer of dirt all over your face.

“you the new guys?” you ask, looking between him and robin.

“yeah,” answering for the both of them, “robin,” extending her hand to meet yours.

you shake it, with a small, wary smile before turning your attention to steve, eyes narrowed as if you’re trying to place him.

“i remember you,” smiling with the side of your mouth, sizing him up. “steve harrington,” saying his name with such conviction, “newest member of in motion, weren’t you?”

he’s surprised that anyone would even care to remember him or the shitty boy band he was coerced into, “i mean, i was.. doesn’t really matter now though, right?”

you hum and he’s not sure whether it’s positive or not, “i used to be a fan,” steve couldn’t fathom someone like you ever being a fan of the shitty corporate pop he used to make. “maybe you can perform for us some day.”

it’s the first time in years that anyone has recognised him from before. unsure of how it makes him feel.

-

steve had presumed that he and robin were doing pretty well, they were alive weren’t they?

he’d found out that actually, neither of the two knew a single thing about proper, adequate survival skills and had gotten by with some grace of god.

he could shoot a gun, at least he thought he could. they typically just aimed and shot and hoped for the best rather than all of this.

you kick his feet further apart, barking shoulder width into his ear for the umpteenth time. it’s pretty hard to focus when you’re standing right behind him with your soft lips brushing against his ear every few seconds.

robin takes to it like a duck on water, keeping her arms straight and the gun in line with her eye. how the fuck does she know all of this shit?

steve fires and subsequently misses the makeshift target, cursing under his breath with a nasty side eye to robin who hits it straight in the drawn on face.

“steve,” you warn, walking over to him with a slight frown, “keep it steady, that kick back is no joke.”

he pulls a face, realigning the gun to his eye and tries again.

missing the target entirely this time.

“okay,” you sigh, the feel of your arms wrapping around his startle him for a second before the rest of your body presses against his back.

oh god.

it’d look pretty weird if he popped a boner while on shooting practice, he thinks.

it’s not as if human contact is a thing he encounters regularly, how was his body supposed to know the difference?

your chin rests on his shoulder, peering over at the target, hands coming to sit atop of his sweaty ones as you aim for him.

“that good?” you ask, breath tickling his ear.

it felt good, felt very good actually. your chest flat against his back, his breathing falling into to time with yours.

“ye- yup,” he flutters, almost choking on the words.

steve get it together.

“so go,” you order.

his finger presses the trigger, the bullet flies through the target, straight between the eyes.

“there you go!” you celebrate, the warmth of your body on his disappearing as you come to join him at his side.

he and robin share a look, robin’s smirk was unmistakable, steve knew what she was thinking, somehow he always did.

“go again, just you this time,” nodding with encouragement.

his thoughts are jumbled, preoccupied with the want for you to touch him again. just this time, maybe somewhere more private.

but he does it. the painted on silhouette is hit straight through the forehead, garnering a whoop from robin.

“you’re getting the hang of it,” you smile, fingers brushing over his as you take the gun from his hand. it makes him shiver, electricity pulsing between you. “don’t worry, we can come back out here another day,” sharing a look that lingers just a little too long.

you collect robin’s gun and announce something about lunch but steve can’t focus, still attempting to collect himself from a puddle on the floor.

“man, if you don’t get in there, i’m going to,” robin quips, slapping him quite harshly on the back.

“fuck off,” he hits back, trying to shake the loud, intrusive voice in the background of his mind.

there wasn’t much time for love and relationships while he had to fight the undead. a small part of him wonders if maybe now it’s possible, in here, with you.

okay, he’s definitely getting ahead of himself.

-

you don’t help steve’s delusions when you join him and robin at their table for breakfast, making sure to slide into the seat directly opposite just so he can try not to choke on his food.

“you guys settling in okay?” you ask, not really looking at robin at all, eyes glued to his.

“y-yeah, it’s nice here,” he sputters, trying to focus on the bowl of porridge in front of him.

“good,” you smile, sickeningly sweet.

robin’s foot swiftly connects with his leg, coughing on his mouthful as he returns the favour. he knows what she’s getting at, he’d divulged his fantasies to her a couple nights ago.

they’d been allocated separate rooms but hadn’t dared to separate yet, holing up in steve’s bed as they got used to this place.

you look up again, as if you want to ask something, “i think uh.. a few of the kids found out you were in a band and they wanted to know if you’d sing for them at some point?”

steve narrows his eyes, not forgetting that you’d already revealed yourself as a fan, “they asked?” quirking his brow.

your lips pucker, jabbing at your food in an attempt to hide, “well..” looking up at him through spindly lashes, “maybe not just them.”

he feels this intangible sensation in his chest, a burning that aches his insides.

“okay,” he smiles, managing to keep it down, “i’ll sing for y- them,” hoping no one pulls him on his freudian slip, cheeks burning scarlet.

your eyes light up, the whole world encapsulated within your iris’, a sight he already dreamed of.

he feels like a teenager again, wondering if the pretty girl on the other side of the table liked him back.

-

“ready?” you nod, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

steve’s been anxiously awaiting his first shift on watch, scared about the prospect of accidentally fucking up and someone dying or something like that.

so for his first shift, he’d been graciously paired with you on the back wall. he’s been told there’s never much action there, usually a few stray infected but nothing too serious.

it doesn’t help that you’re in some ridiculously skimpy vest with the tightest pants he’s seen. there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll be able to keep his mind focused.

the pair of you stroll over to the wall, climbing the rusty old tower and relieving argyle and will from their positions.

grateful that you were given the evening shift as the hot july sun is setting and the breeze is beginning to kick in.

you immediately slump into the camp chair, slinging your bag from your back and kicking your heavy boots off, clunking against the metal as they land.

“so.. now we just sit here?” steve asks, cocking a brow at your relaxed disposition.

“yup,” nodding along as you squint up at him. “back wall’s never too exciting, i bet we don’t see a soul.”

“yeah.. okay,” he nods too, taking a seat in the adjacent camp chair, praying for a quiet night.

time ticks on for what must be hours, the courtyard had gone quiet and all he can really hear is your gentle breaths and a cricket somewhere in the long grass.

it must be gone 2am by now and you’d not seen a single thing, not even any infected.

steve can feel your eyes on him, not daring to look over until you start speaking.

“bored yet?”

he shakes his head, he wasn’t. this was pretty exhilarating if he was honest. every time you spoke to him, his heart rate seemed to soar.

“no, no this is nice.”

“the quiet?” you question, tilting your head to the side.

“yeah.. i feel like i haven’t really stopped since we got here.”

there’d been copious amounts of training and the like since he had properly recovered. nancy had shown him how to tie and set up traps. dustin had attempted to explain how you guys had power, though he couldn’t really grasp it.

and you, you had shown him how to shoot and fight and how to use a knife correctly rather than just flailing it around and hoping for the best.

“you’re not a bad watch partner, some of them are so annoying,” rolling your eyes in jest, snickering quietly.

steve smiles, genuinely. he hadn’t really experienced anyone other than robin’s company for a long time and while he loved her to death, it was nice to speak to someone else.

“you’re not too bad yourself,” shying away after his pathetic attempt at flirting.

there had been a fair amount of consideration and a perhaps a little bit of delusion but he had dwelled on it and came to the conclusion that he really liked you.

probably more than he should do at this point.

you pout your lips, considering something before starting, “you know.. there’s something else we could do to pass the time..”

he stares, befuddled for a moment until the glint in your eye makes it all click.

“oh,” is all that comes out of his suddenly very dry mouth.

there’s a flash of hurt and maybe embarrassment on your face, “or not.. i mean- i was just.. forget it,” squeezing your eyes shut as your palm hits your forehead.

“no! god no! i didn’t think you’d want to.. y’know, here..” terrified that he had screwed up his one chance.

not only would he have to leave hawkins, he’d probably have to curl up and die somewhere out of sheer embarrassment and regret.

“i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t want to,” you shrug, uncurling from your blushing state.

steve almost falls from the rickety chair, “of course i do.. is it a good idea?” motioning over the wall somewhere, “with the watch and stuff..” eager to not disappoint the rest of his new group mates.

“we haven’t seen a thing all night.. we’re not being relieved for another few hours.”

“i don’t.. i don’t think i’ll need a few hours,” hell, ten minutes would be fairly optimistic.

a smirk nudges at your lips, standing from your chair to perch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as you take one last quick peek around.

“you’re sure?” you ask, as if he wasn’t gazing up at you like some pathetic puppy dog right now.

“so sure,” nodding enthusiastically. hesitant to touch you until you smile down at him, egging him on.

“get on the floor,” you instruct, still leering over the metal barriers, “just in case.”

he does as he’s told, sitting back against the wall with a lopsided grin as his heart rate increases tenfold.

it’d been years since he’d had sex. he supposes there was that one girl at the third or fourth camp they were in but she was pretty weird and a little obsessive. it only happened once and then he couldn’t bring himself to do it again.

but you’re smiling now, resting on his thighs and he thinks his heart might give out. there’s no certainty that he’ll even be able to last long enough for you to get any enjoyment from it but he’s willing to try.

a moment passes, eyes locked as you lean down, pressing a gentle yet excited kiss to his lips, it’s more human contact than he’s had in years.

you waste no time, fumbling with the button on his pants, sighing as you pop the button, waiting for him to return the honour.

steve lifts both of your bodies, barely kicking his jeans off before you sit back down, his fingers tingling with pure excitement as they unbutton your pants.

they end up somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes, focusing your attention back on his lips, carelessly connecting your lips.

your hips rock back and forth, sending a deep grumble from his throat to yours as his dick twitches in his boxers. he might as well not even bother to actually have sex, he was about to cum right then and there.

it’s made worse when your middle and index finger slide into the waistband of his boxers, struggling to stay afloat as you tug the material down just under his balls, cock springing up the second it’s freed.

you position your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with wet lips, the only sounds are the crickets watching this degeneracy.

your hands find their place on his shoulders, holding yourself up while his fist finds his cock, lining himself up with your entrance, heart rate skyrocketing as you gasp above him.

his fingernails graze your skin, leaving indentations in the soft flesh, unable to contain the husky groan that escapes his lips.

your palm slaps over his mouth immediately, eyes wide as your hips rock, “you have to be quiet,” you hush though the smirk tugging at your lips tells him you’re not angry.

steve feels electric, pulsing through his veins with every slight movement you make, garbling into your palm when your pace quickens.

bouncing on his cock, making the entire structure creak and wobble.

he realises now that it’s silent, how obvious the sounds of sex are, skin slapping against skin as you squeak and grunt alongside it.

you’re insane, keeping your hand firmly over his mouth as you use his shoulder for leverage, rolling your hips and squeezing around him.

he’s about ready to cum already, there’s no surprise there. but he’s trying his hardest to hold out, to let you get something from this before he blows his load.

clinging on to your hips for dear life as they roll, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks while he turns to utter mush behind your hand.

“oh shit,” you whine, clit nudging against his pubic bone, louder than he could ever be.

that’s it, hearing you whine sends his stomach lurching, with barely enough time to life your body from his lap before he explodes.

hips stuttering into the air as you watch with bated breath, still covering his mouth as a series of expletives tumble out, muffled and breathless.

steve’s never felt so embarrassed and yet so good all at once, the back of his head thwacking against the metal panel as he floats back to earth.

you rest atop of his thighs, nibbling on the skin of your bottom lip. there’s a silence that makes him want to crawl up the side of the barrier and let infected rip him apart.

he wants to apologise for his premature ejaculation, a little ashamed that he couldn’t prove himself to you but before he can conjure up the appropriate apology, your finger tilts his chin upwards, to meet your eyes.

you stifle it for a minute before bursting into a fit of giggles, “it’s okay.. maybe next time.”

albeit a very vague promise of a next time, steve starts to beam, still catching his breath as you shuffle off of his thighs, pulling your panties on as you lay back on the floor, gesturing for him to join you.

dawn breaks around the two of you, the birds rising to sing their song as you lay on the uncomfortable metal grates next to him.

it’s so serene, a picturesque view peeking from outside the little hut.

this is a feeling steve had thought he may never experience again, content with his life despite the rest of the world crumbling outside of the walls.

it’s something in the orange hue, an aching feeling that he owes to blind optimism. a spark of hope, remnants of a fear to lose anyone else.

to lose you.

your tongue pokes from the side of your lips, sighing softly, “there’s something i have to tell you.”

he turns, watching your face fall. apprehensively awaiting the harsh truth you were about to unleash.

“go on..”

this time you sigh loudly, exhausting the air from your lungs, “my ex.. lives here too. he’s out on a run to fort wayne at the moment but, they’re due back anytime now and i just need to pre-warn you that he’ll probably be a bit of an ass when he finds out.”

relief washes through his body. was that it?

crazy psycho exes weren’t something new to steve, albeit a long time since he’s had to even think about anything like that, but he doesn’t care.

“oh my god,” he exhales, “you scared me.. i thought you were ‘bout to say something crazy,” chuckling at his preemptive fear.

you whack his arm, “i’m being serious,” turning your head to glare at him, “he’s not.. the nicest person and he definitely won’t be nice about this.”

“what’s wrong with him?” steve asks, genuinely. they’d crossed paths with a lot of fucked up people in the six years since this had started but he had never believed that anyone truly bad could live somewhere as nice as this.

those places always seemed to crumble, he’d seen it enough times to know. people had taken the apocalypse as a means to become awful people, dictating the lives of everyone around them as if you weren’t all trying to do one thing.

survive.

you sigh, scrunching your nose, “he and his uncle have been here from the start of it all, helped build this place to what it is now. but his uncle, wayne, left a year back.. went to try and find his brother, eddie’s dad.. and now eddie’s just eternally pissed off about it.”

steve contemplates your words, knowing he’d probably also be incredibly infuriated too. family, real blood family, was a rarity nowadays. most people had lost most, if not all of any semblance of family by now. he was astounded to arrive here and find real family, joyce had her sons, nancy had mike, even lucas had his sister.

“oh.. that’s.. it’s understandable, i guess,” not quite finding the right words.

you nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. you’re holding something back, steve’s not sure what and he’s certainly not going to ask now. unwilling to ruin the moment.

“why’d you guys break up?” considering if he’d like to get in the middle of some complicated, messy situation.

for you? definitely.

“i dunno.. he was just so angry, he let it consume him,” a certain twinge of sadness to your tone.

“and he took it out on you?”

you scoff a little, “me and everyone else.. look, does it help if i say that he probably won’t shoot you?”

steve hums, “not really.”

that does it, brings your smile back as you crack up shaking hysterically as you turn back to the sky.

“i still think you should sing for us all,” changing the subject completely.

steve groans, wiping the layer of sweat from his forehead. before all this, he would’ve said that he preferred summer but now that there were corpses roaming the streets, he definitely favoured winter. that stench is something he’ll never forget, rotting flesh and hot july sun were not a good mix.

“didn’t i already agree to sing for the kids?” he teases.

you’re interrupted from any further begging as nancy’s voice rings out from below, “hey guys? you there?” worry embedded into her voice.

“shit,” you hiss, shooting up as you grab your pants. “sorry.. sorry,” apologising for your lack of clothing and the accidental fright you’d given them.

“oh wow okay,” nancy bites from down below, laughing her head off, jonathan covers his eyes to give you a little privacy as you pull your jeans on, “how’d i know that you two were gonna fuck this up?”

“yeah yeah, shut up,” you rush, cheeks burning as you jump into your clothes.

steve shuffles over sliding his pants back on as he turns beetroot red, not only was this his first shift, it was also the first time he was showing everyone that he was a capable person to keep around. he’s not so sure they’ll agree now.

nancy and jonathan climb up the ladder, a bemused expression shared across their faces, “quiet night?” nancy asks, cocking her head to the side.

“something like that,” shrugging off her quick remarks as you grab your backpack and shove steve’s into his chest.

the two stand there gawping as steve flushes, stepping into his sneakers and attempts to hurriedly brush his hair into place. he wants to be embarrassed, really, but he’s still riding the high of you even kissing him.

“see anything interesting?” nancy bites, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“nope.”

“mhm i bet,” she smirks, her lips pursed as you shuffle past her, ignoring the smug look on her face as you climb down the ladder.

steve gives them both a little wave, still trying to hide his reddened cheeks as he follows you down from the perch.

you’re waiting for him at the bottom, tugging him away as the pair watch from above. it takes everything in him not to turn around and smile.

“y’wanna shower?” you ask, breaking the silence as you enter the building.

he damn near jumps into the air, clicking his heels together, suppressing his excitement with a simple nod, bounding along behind as you pull him along the corridor.

he’d take any shift if it meant ending up with you.

[cattlemons]

When The Tide Returns Lost Memories

| Wriothesley awakens in a foreign land with fragmented memories and a desperate need to return to someone he can't quite remember.

TW: Memory loss, unspecified violence, not proofread, 4k words of hurt and comfort

a.n. saw this post by @cyb-rdva about this fic idea. I just got a buzz and felt like writing it! I don't really know how permissions work on here but I hope I did it justice!

Wriothesley’s eyes find the crippling light as he squints away the last remaining darkness, pushing it to the back of his mind once more. Finally feeling himself take a breath, he hears himself grunt awake; much like a machine starting up after months of disuse. Creaking and clanking to a sitting position, he feels the cracks of his bones and the bruises of his injuries sting him.

Where am I?

Disoriented beyond belief, he let his eyes collect a view of his surroundings. The gears of his brain churned and turned but, to no avail, he’s completely lost on where he is. Panic seized him as his parched throat let out a hoarse yell– he doesn’t know who exactly he was trying to reach out to but, dear archons, let them be nice.

The door opened just as he finally found enough strength to stand. Training his eyes onto the green-headed figure by the door, his focus was sharp despite the delirium he had experienced not long ago; the tendons of his feet ready to leap like a coiled spring waiting for the undoing. 

The green-haired man placed his two palms out, ducking ever so slightly to make himself look as small and harmless as possible. Wriothesley assessed the situation with the sense of a trained warrior, looking the man up and down before releasing his tightly clenched fists, letting the white fade to a warm red. 

Wait a second!

Wriothesley pounced at the tall man and knocked him over to the ground, the thud of their fall resounding throughout the room. His knuckles which are covered with hidden bruises and healed cuts saw the light of day after a long time being hidden. Choking the man, Wriothesley sneered and gruffed, “Where’s my gauntlet, NOW! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO?”

The man flailed helplessly beneath him as he clawed at his bound neck, searching for escape. Before anything else could unfold, both men were pulled apart; the lanky man by a man in Liyuean garment and Wriothesley by a purple child.

What the fuck is going on?? SHIT, WHERE IS SHE? I NEED TO FIND HER! I NEED TO TELL HER...!

Huh? Who? Tell her what?

The child made some sort of listless remark but Wriothesley was not aware of what she said. His ears rang deafeningly as his vision wavered. His consciousness was escaping him and his panic and fight whittled down and numbed itself, leaving a sense of nothing in its wake. He can’t help but mourn if this is to be his last moment of living. What kind of defeat was this? Surely, he deserved a better battle to die on. 

His mind winds down slowly, unfinished strings of thoughts urging him along from what topic to the next before gently placing him right on the edge of consciousness. Dreary and barely awake, he wonders if anyone can hear his last words and wishes. If he could, he would’ve chuckled dryly, even now on his deathbed (or rather death-floor) he is still nothing but an orphaned boy with no one to mourn for him. Dust returns to dust, he supposes.

As he feels his eyes wane to a close, the only thing on his mind is a name with a face left unplaced and undecided, oh how he loved her.

WAIT! WHO? HOLD ON!

He was out cold, now. 

—

The second time he awoke, Wriothesley was ready for a fight. Whatever foul play, or trickery used on him that first time, won’t get him twice. Raring to go, Wriothesley opened his eyes wide and ready to jump into a fighting stance, only to be stopped by a pair of cuffs chaining him to the bed.

Something! He needs to find SOMETHING?!

Controlling his uneven breaths, he forced and willed the adrenaline pumping in his veins to subside; there’s no use for it if he’s bound and alone, anyway. For now, he chose to focus on locating where he was and (more importantly) where his gauntlets were. Sure, the normal man can’t hope to survive a fight against him but something within him is anxious to be away from it. He almost feels physically ill without it. 

Damned wrist decorator causing me separation anxiety. Just like a damned dog.

At the sound of a creak, he snapped his neck towards the open door. Behind the heavy timber, stood the green-haired man he has yet to learn the name of (but rest assured if he’s come for a round two, Wriothesley is ready to choke him; this time to sleep). Fortunately for everyone in the vicinity, the man had no ill will. With the patience of a saint, the man stepped into the room, carrying with him a bruised neck and a handful of medication supplies. 

Setting his things down on a table, he watched Wriothesley with calm eyes. The same cannot be said for Wriothesley whose sharp steel irises were pointed at him. Muscles rippling in tandem, Wriothesley pulled at the cuffs that kept him in place. Truth be told, the steel keeping him bound to the bed may just snap in a few more strong pulls had the child from “yesterday” not stepped in, this time clearly brandishing a syringe swirling with translucent liquid. 

That shut him up quickly. 

Relatively calm now (and sedated), the thin man slowly inched closer to Wriothesley, pushing back his glasses from his nose while at it. With a slightly quicker heart pace, he explained in a rushed tone, “I am Baizhu, a local physician of Liyue and owner of The Bubu Pharmacy. We’re located in Liyue Harbor. We found you unconscious outside our pharmacy so we decided to take you in.”

This “Baizhu” figure looked to his side at the small purple child as if to see whether or not he’d forgotten something. The two seem to be close because without missing a beat, the child showed him a page of her book. This seemed to jog the man’s memory as he continued, “Ah, yes. Your weapons and, ahem, gauntlets are in our safekeeping. They were badly damaged so we were worried the bones hidden underneath weren’t fairing all too well, either, please don’t misunderstand.”

Taking his words in, Wriothesley felt a slight bit of guilt for almost beating the guy up. The man, however, doesn’t seem to be waiting for an apology, rather, his eyes gleamed in a sort of curiosity. Wriothesley supposes he would be the same way if the situation had been flipped and this Baizhu man showed up half-dead at the doors of Meropide.

Wait, Meropide! Shit, MEROPIDE!

“Sir, how long have I been here?! Please, answer me!”

Baizhu’s eyebrows scrunched in slight perplexity and hesitation, he wasn’t too keen on agitating the man again. 

“Well, we found you on the sixth and today’s the nineteenth, so, about two weeks. Yes,” he answered, stepping away, in case the mild sedation was, indeed, too mild a dose. 

Shit! That’s way too long for me to be away! I won’t be surprised if the place is in shambles by now. Fuck, I need to get back! I NEED TO GET BACK! IS SHE OKAY? I NEED TO APOLOGIZE!

To whom?

Fighting against the effects of the syringe, Wriothesley tensed his forearms and willed them to move. Against his better judgment, Baizhu saw this and went to undo the locks of his cuffs. He supposes, that if he’s going to break through the chains, might as well take it off him to prevent any further injury. 

“Though I am uncuffing you, sir, I suggest you take it easy in the meantime. You have a long list of blunt traumas all over you and from the looks of it, your memory isn’t too intact. I don’t know what happened to you or where you want to rush off to with your weapons but I would be an unfit physician if I allowed you to go anywhere outside my supervision for the time being. At least, let me help you remember so I can send you off with a clear mind on your shoulders.”

“Please, just calm down, when I release you, alright… there...”

Arms now freed, Wriothesley calmed down significantly; somewhere in his mind, he felt safer knowing he could beat someone to a pulp if need be. Finally feeling safe enough to be civil, he decided he’d stay long enough to get some answers and his weapon and memory back. Wriothesley knew it’d be best to stay. He can’t be so sure he’ll find a physician who knows enough of their field of study to claim they can help bring back his foggy memories. That said, he won’t be wasting any time. 

“Mr. Baizhu, please tell me what you know about my… umm… predicament. I don’t quite enjoy being puzzled this way. Also, the gauntlets, I want them back,” he said, before quickly pasting a ‘please’ behind his sentence. 

Yes, she always liked it better when I’m civil; like a proper duke. She?

Wriothesley wasn’t sure what was going on with him at the moment. Everything’s in disarray and he can’t help but want to rip the tufts of gray out of his head. Nothing is making sense to him. The memories and facts that should be concretely sealed within the wrinkles of his brain are now fluttering in front of him. Try as he may, they flit just out of his reach. He only hopes his memories come back to him quickly so he can somehow get back to wherever he needs to be to get to whoever she is to do whatever it is he needs to do.

This is truly shit.

—

Meanwhile, you were running up and down the underground prison and makeshift factory to make sure it, ironically, stayed afloat. In all honesty, all you wanted to do was cry and wail at your husband’s disappearance. Yes, disappearance. Though you’ve heard many relegate their condolences to you, you accepted none of it. You were sure he was alive somewhere out there; he just needed to come back home. 

Some may say it’s denial but acceptance simply wasn’t the answer right now. Not when the livelihood of thousands of people rely on your emotional stability to ensure proper functions of this prison they call home. Meropide is counting on you to keep yourself together so acceptance truly isn’t needed right now; not when acceptance would mean falling to your knees as you plan funeral arrangements. No, as long as hope is free, the man you call your husband is alive.

Today’s to-do list is a mile and a half long but it all needs doing so that’s exactly what you’re going to spend your time and elbow grease on. You started your day at the break of dawn when the waters were still moving in compliance with the moon’s pull. The dull thud of the waves against the steel prison walls keeps you grounded as you check off your lover’s duties one by one. Noon soon takes hold as the water calms down relatively, now giving way to the clanks of machinery. The resounding clicks and clacks of tools and shoes signify that all was still in order. Night finally came and the mile-long list has been taken care of, well mostly. Last but not least, you’ll have to surface and meet with someone very important. 

After throwing on whatever clean and acceptable outfit you find within your closet in the duke’s Meropide residence, you are off to Poisson to meet with Navia. You sure hope she’s found something useful. 

At moments like this, you’re grateful for your long-standing friendship with the ever-kind and well-connected President of The Spina di Rosula. Navia has been spearheading the search for your husband for the past few weeks. She turned the whole of Fontaine upside down last week but it yielded no results. Though Spina di Rosula is an organization built to help with Fontanian problems, you’re glad she spared no effort to search beyond the borders of Fontaine for you.

“I just don’t know where he could have gone, Navia. One minute we fought and before you know it the clock strikes midnight and it’s the second day he’s gone,” you let out as your chest starts heaving, a poor effort to hold back the sorrow and fear you felt. 

“Navia, I can’t let that be the last interaction we have, I just… I can’t live not knowing if he’s done with me or, worse, if something bad happened to him. I just want to know he’s alright and then, if he so wishes, we can part ways.”

Navia pats your back gently as your breathing grows heavier, “I don’t know the duke all that much but I know enough to say that he’s mad for you. He’d kill for you just as quickly as he’d die for you, my dear. Give him credit that he’ll return, if only to see and make amends with you, hmm?”

Your throat is raw from keeping the dam of your rising emotions from spilling. You turned to your sole companion in all this, “Are you sure, we’ll find him, Navia?”

“All the signs we’ve found so far indicate him being alive. As long as that duke of yours is on Teyvat, we’ll find him, my dear partner, I am sure of it,” she cheered softly, conviction intertwined with a strong dose of compassion. 

With that, tears soak your face as you cry softly. Your shoulders shook as rivulets of sorrow trickle past your lashes onto your cheeks. You couldn’t possibly let them out in Meropide so you let them out here. Within the confines of the four walls of Poisson, you let your walls crumble if only for a bit. 

You hope he comes back to you soon. You don’t know what you’d do without him. 

— 

“Do you recall anything at all before your waking,” Baizhu asked Wriothesley for the umpteenth time since his wake from the sedation-induced stupor. 

The two figures, Wriothesley and Baizhu, were sitting outside the pharmacy doing a routine inspection. For the past week, Wriothesley has been fairly cooperative in working with Baizhu to further his recuperation; if only to get his gauntlet back and return quicker to Meropide and to the missing woman his heart claims to love so much.

Wriothesley still has no clue as to what his sense of urgency is based on. Of course, the meropide needs him but in the event of his absence, he’s set aside some protocols and second-in-commands that can take up the mantle for a bit before his return. This is something he recalled a few days ago and it’s helped him ease up and stay put for the time being. The exercises Baizhu has given him are certainly giving promising results on jogging his memory back but, much to his dismay, none about the mystery woman. It’s eating his heart up like a worm on an apple, plaguing his heart and making him feel rotten for forgetting her. 

Who are you, damn it.

Damn, even cursing at her feels wrong. 

Alright, let him fix that-

FIX… FIX!

Just like that, the memories of the weeks prior come crashing onto him like the waves of the midnight tides. All that he’s been through, getting knocked out, the fight, everything filters through his mind like an hourglass finally filling up. Despite all of those moments being mostly shit, he’s overjoyed of remembering what he thought he lost, of remembering you.

By Archons, it’s you!

“Baizhu! That’s it! I need to see her, I need to see my girl! Oh, for the life of me, Baizhu, I need to apologize to MY GIRL,” Wriothesley yelled, joyous. 

He does not recall ever being so excited to apologize but he’d be damned if anything wipes the smile off of his face. How can he not? Imagine falling in love all over again with the woman that’s captured your very being. Imagine seeing her in the fresh light of a stranger only wishing to be within her gravity then realizing you were the moon pulling her tides of love all along. Imagine, oh archons, that can fucking wait. 

He’s leaving now!

Baizhu smiles at the breakthrough, both of his patient’s memory and of a new memory recovery technique. Calling for Qiqi, Baizhu asks her to get the man’s big boy hands because, yes, we’re finally letting him go home. No, without the sedation. 

—

On the ferry ride back, the duke sat painfully still as he stared at the gauntlets that he now wore. The gauntlets that symbolizes his power in Meropide, the ones you've basically created with him now that he remembers your significance in his life. No wonder he can't bear to part with it.

Suddenly, the vast blue separating Liyue and Fontaine seems not enough time now that his thoughts finally catch up to him.

Of course, he was beyond ecstatic to see the love of his life again but thinking back to how he left things off… he shudders at the thought. He’s downright shit for leaving this mess for you to shoulder on your own, not to mention, the fight that went down before he disappeared. 

If the roles were reversed, he doesn't know if he’ll ever function properly again. He left you after saying some nasty things and did not return. Not even after two weeks, in fact, it took him three. He wonders if you’re mad at him still or if you’ve fully given up on him. He wonders if you think he left you for good on his own accord. He hopes your heart hasn’t been damaged beyond repair. He knows he’ll do a lot worse to himself if it is. 

He just hopes you haven’t completely locked him out of your heart forever because if you haven’t fully closed the doors on him, if he even sees a sliver of forgiveness in your eyes, he’ll lay his everything down in hopes of winning you back.

Wait for me, please, my love.

—

The ocean’s gentle rhythm is the only lullaby strong enough to lure your restless heart and mind to sleep. You can’t imagine being able to rest if you were anywhere else. At least not after the stagnation of your search for your husband. It would’ve been one thing if it were slow progress but there’s nothing else to be found now. Last you heard, there were sightings of a seemingly Fontanian man in Liyue but before anyone could get ahold of him, he disappeared again. You suppose it makes full sense that a man with his extensive knowledge of the underground world and wide connections would slip away easily, after all this is well within his expertise. That’s what you chose to believe, anyway.

The murmurs of the sea continue drumming constant beats as your eyes flutter shut. You hope that this time they bring you to a distant land where all is well; where your husband is still beside you and he still looks at you like you hung the stars just for him. 

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, heavy clunking and ruckus were heard outside by the registrar of the Meropide. Soon, a crowd began to form as doors were opened and gates were unlocked, in came the man of the hour. 

The duke is back.

—

Doors were flung open as the duke marched in, passing by the stunned prisoners of the Meropide. There were rumors abuzz that the duke had fled, of course, his sentence was served to fulfillment so, technically, he did not flee. The spicy part of this scandal was that his wife was left stranded and alone to deal with the mess he’s left. Truth be told, this wasn’t so far from the truth in Wriothesley’s heart. 

Opening the massive steel doors to his residence, Wriothesley whispered prayers. With every step he climbed, he murmured a small prayer and promise of devotion to whichever Celestia deity would grant him your patience and forgiveness. Perhaps, however, he should’ve been whispering his promises of devotion to you instead. 

Like seeing a mirage in a barren desert of swirling guilt and longing, you lay there asleep but so very beautiful. The rise and fall of your chest fills him with ease as the scent of your perfume grows stronger with each step he takes toward you. His eyes begin to water as his feet grow heavy, it seems his heart grew to immense proportions just at seeing you within touching distance. 

He reaches your side and kneels to be at level with your sleeping face. He studies you, slowly memorizing all the things he wishes to never forget. He engraves into his mind, the dips of your cupid’s bow and the flick at the end of your nose. He etches into the crevices of his brain the way your eyelashes flutter just so slightly at whatever it is you sense. Finally, he allows himself to fully sink into your hypnotic gaze as your eyelids lift ever so slightly to reveal his favorite colors. He wishes to have those exact shades enshroud him forever.

The moment you open your eyes, you can’t help but smile, though you remain unmoving. 

How lovely! They did bring you good dreams. 

“My… after so long of not seeing you, I must’ve forgotten how many scars you have,” you giggled lightly as your eyes counted his scars one by one, hoping to update your foggy memory.

You smile as you continue, “two new ones over your left eyebrow and one down your neck. Even in my dreams, you’re still as rugged as ever. I guess it’s my fault for falling in love with a man so magnetized by fights. I love you that way, though. Don’t change.”

Wriothesley could only sit in pious silence as he followed your gaze, he never wanted to part from it.

“My love, why don’t you take me to where you are? I never want to wake up if this is what sleeping is like. I don’t mind remembering new scars that never happened if only to stay with you like this,” you whispered lowly as your hands went out to reach for his cheeks. 

It’s impulsive and you knew the moment his form revealed its corporeal quality, he’d fade away from even your dreams and you’d be left alone again but you just… you just had to. He compels you in a way that no one ever has and ever could. Even if only in this second, you wish to believe he’s just within reach. 

Just like you remember him to be.

Wriothesley closed his eyes as he awaited your warmth. He can’t possibly move an inch or say a word when the atmosphere is filled and doused with your affection and love. He just can’t. If anything, he leans in almost antsy with anticipation. 

But your touch never came. 

Wriothesley opens his eyes to see tears falling down your face and your hands just a hair's breadth away from his cheeks. The droplets stained the carpet beneath him along with his heart.

Breaking piece by piece, his heart shatters as more tears fall from the corner of your eyes; even more when you begin to speak.

“Wriothesley, if I don’t touch you, will you stay? Even as a memory, will you continue to be mine? Or will my mind take that away from me too?”

His heart sank as he watched his love break before him. Not standing for this anymore, he pulled your face closer to his and sealed your lips onto his, claiming this moment as real. 

You cried into the kiss letting every single feeling and emotion you’ve pent up run free. Wriothesley pulled you into him and held you as close as he physically could. He wants to absorb every piece of you into his heart to make sure he never has to part from you ever again. He’s selfish and he keeps ahold of you even after your lips part from his. 

He kisses every inch of your skin to make sure you know he’s here, to make sure he knows you’re here.

Pure, unadulterated love encapsulates his mind as he holds you close, afraid he might lose you again if he lets go. 

As the minutes faded into hours, Wriothesley murmured into your ears the undying poetry of his love for you, unyielding and true. Even if you don’t believe him right now, that’s alright. He’ll keep reminding you of it.

Every second of every minute.

Every minute of every hour.

And every hour of every damned day.

All until you remember it. 

a.n. This is a long one and I just kinda word vomit onto my laptop for a few hours and then bam it's right there. Please be gentle, I don't think I was all that awake for this banger!

Hope it's a good read!

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Naughty Nanny Chapter 2

Summary:  Bucky had a lovechild from a one night stand.  He barely even remembered it, and was surprised to find a baby on his doorstep 9 months later.  But one look at that little girl and he knew she was his and that he’d die for her.  The only problem was, he knew nothing about babies, and being an Avenger meant he couldn’t just drop everything and be a dad full time.  Then he found the perfect nanny…or so he thought.

**In this universe Steve never left, Tony never died.** **curvy reader** Warnings: talk of sexual harassment, unwanted/non-consensual touching/sexual assault, eventual smut

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“Stupid…fucking…UGH!”  Y/N grunted as she plopped down hard onto the stool in front of the vanity mirror.  She tugged her tall heels off and threw them down on the ground, then pulled the dollar bills from every nook and cranny on her body that she had tucked them into.

“Don’t tell me, he’s here again,” Tiffany, a fellow dancer, sighed and rolled her eyes as she applied more lipstick in the mirror next to her.

“Yes,” Y/N said curtly.  She turned to her mirror and started wiping off her makeup harshly.  “I’m done.  I can’t do this anymore.”

“Officially this time?” Tiffany gave her an unimpressed look.

“Yes, officially.  You just missed the screaming match I had with Benny,” Y/N said, flashing a triumphant smile.  “I quit.”

“Girl, good for you.  Get out of here.  He’s been hounding you for months.  Save yourself,” Tiffany congratulated her with a proud smile.  “What are you going to do now though?”

“I’ve been sending out my resume to a bunch of places.  I got a message from a company about a nannying job.  My interview is tomorrow morning,” Y/N rattled off as she finished wiping off her excessive makeup and shoved her things into her bag.

“You didn’t put this place down did you?” Tiffany asked incredulously.

“Are you crazy?” Y/N laughed.  

Tiffany laughed with her.  “Did you cash out?” she asked as she stood when her cue rang through the backstage intercom.

“Yep.  And hey,” Y/N stood and reached out for a hug.  Tiffany smiled and embraced her.  “You should get out of here, too.  Or go apply somewhere else.  This place isn’t worth it.  He’s not worth it.  It’s not…safe.”

“I know, I’m working on it,” Tiffany said and gave her one final squeeze.  “Text me how your interview goes.”

“I will,” Y/N agreed and hefted her bag onto her shoulder.  “Good luck.”

***

Bucky was up early and ready to go.  He handed Winnie off to Steve so he could finally watch the interviews with potential nannies.  The interviewing process was taking months, with Tony insisting on extensive background checks and finding “the best of the best” as he called it.  Bucky was needed on certain missions, and desperately needed help at night to get the rest for said missions.  Pepper was the head of HR so she would be conducting interviews, while he and Sam watched in the next room with a reflective window between them.

“How many interviews are there?” Sam asked, settling into his chair and opening a bag of candy.

“Eight,” Bucky answered, settling himself down as well while thumbing through the folders of the candidates.

“Ugh, what a great day it’s gonna be,” Sam groaned.

“You don’t have to stay and watch,” Bucky shot back at him.

“I’m an uncle, I know what’s needed for good childcare,” Sam said.

“Sure.  Weren’t you the one who lost Cass at Coney Island a few weeks ago?” Bucky replied.

Sam narrowed his eyes.  “He was perfectly safe.”

“And lost.  At a huge outdoor amusement park.  In New York City.  I wonder how Sarah–”

“Hey!  You said you’d keep quiet!” Sam admonished, throwing a few pieces of candy at him.

Bucky caught one and popped it in his mouth.  “Keep it up, Birdman, and she’s gonna learn about AJ trying out your wings.”  Sam glared at him and sat back quietly.  “That’s what I thought, ‘uncle of the year,’” he smiled mischievously.  

Pepper stepped into the next room with a young man and had him sit down.  “Man whatever.  It’s starting,” Sam griped as he watched the interview.

Bucky was bored by the third interview.  He’d read each candidate’s profile and reviewed their background checks thoroughly, but so far each of them just didn’t seem to have what he was looking for.  He wasn’t even sure what he wanted, just someone who seemed like they could take care of Winnie but also care for her personally.  

“Lucky number seven,” Sam chimed as Pepper shook a woman’s hand.

Bucky looked up from the folder and did a double take.  The woman had a wide, pleasant smile, her plump cheeks making her eyes squint.  She was short next to Pepper’s tall frame, and plus size, her curves slightly jiggling as she walked and took a seat across from her.  She was beautiful and exuded a confidence and self-assurance that made him watch her more carefully.  

“And how do you pronounce your name?”  Pepper asked.

“Y/N,” she answered.  He even liked her voice, soft spoken but firm.  

“She’s pretty,” Sam remarked, seeing the look on Bucky’s face.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed quietly, leaning forward in his chair.

Pepper asked her a number of questions.  “So it says here you got your degree in early childhood education with a minor in music, you were working in a daycare for about ten years, and all your daycare certifications are still up to date.  Is there a reason for your gap in employment on your resume?”  Pepper inquired.

“Yes, I, uh…” Y/N paused, looking down at her hands.  The confident facade slightly slipped as she bit her lip hesitantly.  “I was looking after my mother for a few years, and taking whatever odd jobs I could.  When she died I couldn’t find anything in child care again.  Everything was full.  The job market has been rough the last few years since the Blip,” she replied.  She met Pepper’s stare.  “I’m going to be completely honest with you because, well,” she gestured to the facility around her.  “You guys either know already or will find out.  Um…I was working at a burlesque club before this.”

Sam sputtered, looking down at her folder again.  Bucky’s eyes widened.  Pepper showed no sign of surprise.  “Really?” she asked.  

“Yes.  I’ve always loved the art of burlesque and thought I’d give it a try.  That being said, it was a toxic work environment and I felt unsafe, so I started applying to other places.  I understand if that pulls me out of the running, since it’s not exactly a very ‘upscale’ type of job to have, or could cast a not-so-pleasant light on an institution like the Avengers–”

“Not necessarily,” Pepper chuckled.  “I mean, we have the likes of Tony Stark here, so it’s not that scandalous.”

“True!” Y/N laughed.  “No offense to your husband, of course.”

“None taken,” Pepper laughed with her.  “Of course I’m just the middle man, the parent looking for childcare will make the final decision.”

“Of course,” Y/N agreed, her eyes flicking to the glass behind Pepper.  Bucky almost flinched, realizing she knew someone was watching.

“Otherwise, your resume looks good, and I have no other questions.  We’ll reach out to you with a decision by the end of the week,” Pepper said as she stood.

Y/N quickly stood with her, offering another smile and shaking her hand.  “Thank you.  I look forward to hearing from you.”

As she left the room she looked back at the window and flashed a knowing smile, waving at the people she couldn’t see.  Bucky almost waved back but stopped himself.  “Huh, I like her,” Sam said as he watched her leave.  

“Me, too,” Bucky said, a small smirk growing on his face.

@angelbabyyy99 @capswife @julvrs @bellabarnes1378 @mostlymarvelgirl @mega-kittyglitter-1 @buckitostan @drdbnkl2008 @wintrsoldrluvr @danzer8705

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 2 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley takes you back to his hotel room, and things between the two of you feel as perfect and intense as they did ten years ago - and not just physically.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, swears, and angst

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

"Sugar," he groaned. "Please tell me you're coming back to my hotel room."

Without any hesitation whatsoever, you leaned in and whispered, "Yes."

When Bradley shifted again on the bar stool and slowly stood up, you could feel his hard length rubbing against your belly. You were pressed snug against the front of him, your hands exploring his abs and chest through his soft shirt. 

He kissed your forehead and dug in his back pocket for his wallet while you marveled at how tall he was. He had always been tall and strong, but he wasn't so slim anymore. He looked like he could handle tossing you around a bit in bed, and now you were getting really wet for him. 

You watched him pull a fifty out of his wallet and hand it to the bartender. "Let me get your change," he told Bradley.

"Keep it," Bradley grunted in return, gathering up your purse and phone with one hand and guiding you away from the bar with his other hand at your lower back.

"Where's your hotel?" you asked, still all over Bradley as he tried to guide you around everyone entering the bar for the evening. 

"Across the street," he rasped, pushing you back against the exterior of the building as soon as you were outside. You could feel the rough bricks digging into the backs of your arms as Bradley pressed against you with his body.

"I fucking missed you, Sugar."

That's all it took. Both of your hands were at the back of his neck pulling his mouth to yours. He had you pinned in place, mouth mashing against yours as he tasted your lips and parted them with his. 

He was so solid and warm, and the humidity of the evening air was adding to your adrenaline rush. Nobody had ever felt as good as Bradley. You moaned into his mouth as he tasted your teeth, earning you his knee right where you wanted it again. 

You basked in the pressure of his leg against your clit through your underwear, underneath your dress. Vaguely you were aware that there were other people out tonight; it was dark, but the soft street lamps only allowed for so much privacy. But you didn't care, and Bradley didn't seem to either. 

When you rubbed yourself slow and steady up and down his thigh, he took your chin between his thumb and fingers a little roughly. You gasped and let your eyes meet his as your head was tipped back against the bricks. 

"Yeah... I remember everything," he told you. "That study room is burned into my mind. The things you let me do. The way you made me feel. Fuck, Sugar! How was I supposed to forget that?" 

"Bradley!" you whined, and his lips found yours again as his fingers tangled in your hair. 

So he thought about the study room, too. Kissing, studying, laughing, and sex; that's what you pictured every time. It had been perfect. 

And now he felt so familiar; you knew the patterns of his scars and the shape of his face by heart. But he also felt brand new, the way his mustache grazed your neck when he kissed you there. He was sucking gently and then soothing you with his tongue.

"Missed you," he whispered against your skin. You clenched around nothing as his hand skimmed down your neck and over your collarbone to your breasts. "Come to my room."

"Please," you gasped, immediately missing and still craving the friction of his leg when he removed it. 

"Jesus, Sugar," he hissed, squeezing you tighter around your waist. "Holy shit."

Your jaw dropped open when you saw that he was looking at the wet spot that you left on his thigh. 

"Oh my god," you blurted out. But he was scooping you up into his arms, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as if you did this with him all the time. Bradley kept your purse in his hand and carried you to the corner to wait for the crosswalk light like you weighed nothing.

You kissed his neck as he checked for traffic before just jaywalking toward the hotel. He held you tight to his abs as he went and told you, "You can go ahead and get my shirt wet too. I don't mind one bit." 

With a smile, you pressed your core a little more snug against him. "I guess I missed you, too, Beer Boy."

Bradley carried you through the hotel lobby as you ran your fingers through his hair and teased his mustache with your lips. 

You snorted when the concierge desk employee said, "Welcome back, sir. Have a good night."

"Oh, I will," Bradley promised with a smile. Then he kissed you as he jammed the elevator up button a few times and pressed your back against the wall. "I'm gonna have a great night, right Sugar?"

"I'll see to that," you whispered against his lips.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, ducking inside the elevator as soon as the doors opened. He set you down in the corner and reached behind him to select the fifth floor, and then you were pulling him back toward you. "I'm right here," he promised.

You wanted him everywhere. You were wet and so ready for him. You moaned his name in the small space, and you'd never sounded so needy before. He still had your purse in one hand, and some of your lipstick was smeared on his lips. His hair was practically standing on end from your fingers, and his pupils were so wide. 

"Is that true, what you said at the bar?" he asked, voice rough as you felt his free hand slip up under your dress. "In ten years, nobody else could make you cum quite as good as me, Sugar?"

Your head tipped back against the wall as he squeezed the back of your thigh. "Yes. It's true."

He grinned. "Well, I'm glad we're on the same page here." He handed you his key card and scooped you up again. "Nothing else is quite as sweet as Sugar."

You were sucking on the side of his neck as he carried you to his room and positioned you so that you could open the door. 

"I want you," you told him as soon as he had you in the room with the door slamming shut. And immediately you were on your back on the bed, knees bent and thighs spread wide as Bradley's body weight pushed you down into the soft bedding. He was hard in his pants and rubbing you through your underwear. Your head was already tipped back as he kissed your neck and palmed your breasts through your dress.

"I want you too, Sugar." He teased your nipples and said, "You still like skipping a bra sometimes? I used to love that."

Your only response was a pitiful moan as his hands traveled down and yanked your dress up to your waist. Before you had time to register the cold air on your skin, Bradley had pulled your underwear to one side and started kissing your pussy.

He was pushing your thighs wide with his big hands as he licked you up and down. "Still so sweet," he whispered against your clit before wrapping his lips around you and sucking. 

You hadn't been with a man who was good at this in so long. And Bradley was very good. He eased two fingers inside you while he licked and sucked on you, and you just knew you were coating his mustache.

It should have been embarrassing how fast and hard you came for him after rocking against his face. But he seemed to remember just what you liked, and his technique was even better now. Your legs were shaking and you could tell you soaked his face when you came. 

You were gasping for air and rubbing your hands over your face as Bradley licked your wetness off your thighs. You let him remove your shoes and then guide your underwear down your legs. 

"That was quick, Sugar," he said, panting a little and guiding his hands under your dress to pull it higher up your body. He was rock hard, his dick grinding against your core as he moved. "Nobody been taking good care of you?"

You arched your back to help him and then shook your head, saying, "I blame your mustache. It's lethal!"He smiled and guided his left hand higher beneath your dress, and your eyes fluttered closed as he traced your tattoo of Euler's identity. 

"I haven't stopped thinking about this in ten years. Right there, by your tits. Everyone's looking at you all day, and they have no idea you've got this titty tattoo that I've been dreaming about for a fucking decade."

You whispered, "Beer Boy," and his lips were on yours again. You let him push the dress all the way up and over your head and toss it to the floor.  And whether you liked it or not, he was about to see your newer tattoo as well, so you let him kiss along your skin until his eyes cracked open and he froze.

"Sugar," he gasped, pausing over your body. He read the words a few times before meeting your eyes again. "The Grateful Dead?"

You moaned as his hands both came to rest just below your breasts, caressing you there. You were suddenly feeling shy. You got the lyrics tattooed below your math tattoo shortly after your move to Chicago. 

Bradley's lips met the ink with reverence. "I sang that song to you." When he looked up at your face, you just nodded. 

He kissed you there again and rubbed his nose along it as well. "Did you get this because of me?" he asked so softly.

"Yes."

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

Bradley thought he was going to pass out. You had a second tattoo below your math equation. And it was lyrics from one of his favorite Grateful Dead songs. 

You don't know how easy it is to love you.

He wanted to make love to you now and tomorrow and next week. "Did you get this because of me?" He needed to know.

"Yes." You said it so simply. Like all of this should make perfect sense to him. As if Bradley should have known he was just biding his time for ten years until he could have you again. He had never been more turned on by anyone in his life than he was by you for those few months during senior year of college. And today. 

He groaned Sugar and nipped at your skin and your breasts until you were pulling his shirt over his head and unzipping his pants. He yanked them down along with his underwear and tossed them near your dress.

You were looking at his body the way most women did. But he had to smile, because you had looked at him the same way when he was twenty one years old and nowhere near as muscular. Bradley eased himself down to kiss you like he was doing a pushup, and your lips met his with a smile. He'd be lying if he wasn't looking at your body the same way; you were curvier now, and your ass and tits looked bigger. This felt like a dream. 

Bradley groaned when you guided your hands along his back and shoulders as your wet pussy cradled his hard cock as he dragged himself against you. "You feel so good," you gasped when he pulled his lips away from yours.

But now he was groaning. "Doctor Sugar, I don't have any condoms with me." He kept rubbing himself along your wetness, praying you'd still let him fuck you.

"That's okay. I have an IUD," you told him, gently grasping his length and guiding him inside your perfect pussy. "And you're the only guy I ever let skip a condom."

Bradley growled at the combination of your wet warmth and your words. "Sugar, you're killing me." He felt like he was still yours. Like he had never belonged with anyone else. And all the little gasps and moans you made while your fingers dragged through his hair made him throb for you. 

"I want..." you began as Bradley started to thrust. "I want you to make me stupid."

In a split second of realization, Bradley knew with certainty that he was the only man who could render you dumb with his body. So he fucked you hard and steady, and listened to you getting louder. 

"Oh, you're such a good girl."

You only seemed capable of whining his name now as he filled you up over and over. He held your bucking hips down with one hand on your hip and went harder while he touched and tasted your chest. He was never going to stop touching you. He'd do anything you asked of him.

Your breathing was erratic now, and he felt those first flutters of your orgasm squeezing his cock. He pressed his forehead to yours, grinding into you with both hands at your waist. 

"Sugar... tell me you'll stay with me all night. I need you to stay."

"Okay," you promised with tears in your eyes, and when Bradley added his fingers to your clit, you started to come. He could feel himself moving inside you against his fingers, and everything was too much. With a loud, strangled noise, he came inside your pussy and let your body squeeze everything from him.

Then your movements were languid, and the fucked out look on your face, complete with dazed smile, had him wanting to keep his cock buried deep inside you. Your fingers moved lazily through his hair, and Bradley knew he must look ridiculous from how much you'd been touching it. He nudged his nose along your softly swollen lips which had you kissing his mustache again, something he never knew he needed in his life. 

"Beer Boy?" you asked softly.

"Yeah, baby?" 

You pressed your lips together to stifle your smile. "I need the bathroom."

"Right," he groaned, slowly withdrawing himself from inside you. He helped guide you toward the edge of the bed, but his movements stalled as he watched the mess he had made inside you come dripping out. He pushed your legs wide and prevented you from standing up. 

"Did you make a mess?" you asked with a light laugh.

"Oh... it's fucking beautiful." He rubbed his fingers through his cum before it dripped onto the bedding, and then he watched you take his wrist and guide his fingers to your mouth.

"I've never had a creampie before," you whispered, licking his cum and your own wetness from his fingers. 

"Shit... I'll give you as many as you want, Sugar."

You looked up at him, a little shy as you kissed his cheek and made your way into the bathroom. Bradley cleaned himself off with some tissues and then dropped back onto the bed. The last thing he wanted to do was make you shut down at all. As he ran his hands over his face, he recognized that being around you still made him feel good. Just like it always had. 

But shit, he was itching to ask you more about that new tattoo. When did you get it? Did you think of him every time you looked at it? Did you remember how many times he had sung those lyrics to you? Because he did; nine times. It was nine times that he sang to you about someone arbitrarily being easy to love. But really, saying 'I love you, Sugar' had been on the tip of his tongue each time. 

When you came back from the bathroom, Bradley sat himself up on the edge of the bed. You strutted back toward him, tapping your lips nervously. "This feels so surreal. I half expected you to have disappeared by the time I came back out here."

He just shook his head and reached for you. "I'm not going anywhere."

That seemed to set your mind at ease, because you smiled at him before you came to stand in front of him. Bradley eased his thighs apart so you could stand between them, and he looked up at you as he let his hands settle on your waist, guiding you closer.

"I didn't let myself believe you'd be here this weekend," he whispered, stroking your tattoos and placing a kiss between your breasts. "Couldn't get my hopes up like that."

You melted against him as your hands found his shoulders. "Can we cuddle?" you asked softly. Bradley pulled you down into his lap and turned so that his head rested on the pillows, and your head rested on his chest as you both sprawled out together on the bed. 

You shivered against him when he wrapped his arm around you. "Too cold, Sugar? I'll turn the air conditioner down."

"No," you demanded, keeping him in bed with both arms around him. Instead you and he burrowed under the covers and you settled down on his chest again. 

"Comfy?" he asked. 

"Very," you murmured against his neck.

Bradley rubbed your back for a few minutes, working up the nerve to ask you what was on his mind. He cleared his throat. "You wanna tell me about that new tattoo of yours?"

"It's not exactly new," you whispered. "I got it when I moved to Chicago."

Bradley's arms inadvertently wrapped around you a little tighter. "You really missed me?"

You looked up at him and nodded. "Enough to get a damn tattoo."

Bradley grinned at you, and then his stomach started growling. 

"Hungry, Beer Boy?"

"Is that pizza place we really liked still around?" he asked, kissing your nose. "I'm feeling real nostalgic today."

You smiled. "Yeah! It's still open. Same angry guy making the pizzas, too."

"Well, holy shit. Wanna share one with me?"

The way you were looking at him was too familiar. Your smile grew as you agreed with his pizza idea, and Bradley kissed you as he told you not to move. He stood up to retrieve his phone, and your eyes tracked his every move. 

"You still like the same toppings?" he asked as he found the phone number online. 

"Yes," you said with a laugh. "You remember what I like on my pizza?"

"I told you, I remember everything."

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

You listened to Bradley order your favorite kind of pizza, and then he joined you in bed again. He was just so sexy now. Lord, he had always been adorable and sweet, but this was unbelievable. 

And you did realize there was still a lot to talk about, especially if you were going to spend the whole night here with him. But you weren't in any rush to make things awkward, especially since he was gently rolling you onto your back again and easing himself on top of you with a grin. 

"Alright, Professor Sugar. Tell me more about these schools you're looking at. Where were they? Miami and San Diego?"

He was eyeing you with a look you couldn't quite place. He seemed anxious, maybe, to know which colleges were trying to hire you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he used his massive biceps to hold himself just above your body. "Yeah. Miami and San Diego. I'm planning on visiting both in person in the next two weeks. Want to see which one I like more."

You were bending your knee and easing your thigh up around his hip, trying to keep your composure as you could feel him getting hard against your leg. 

"Hmm, yeah, it's a good idea to look at both options. What criteria do the schools need to meet for you to want to move there?" he asked in his soft, raspy voice as you ground your core up against him. 

"Um, well they need to have updated lab facilities," you said, your eyes drifting closed as Bradley kissed your neck. "And, I'd need a really impressive office, you know, if I'm going on tenure track."

"Sure. Absolutely," he agreed, and now you were feeling up his biceps. 

"And of course, I can't work at a university that has a library with subpar study rooms," you said. A laugh escaped your lips as he gently bit your neck.

"And just who are you going to test out those rooms with, Sugar?"

"Nobody," you promised as he teased your earlobe with his mustache. 

"Ah, some solo action, then. Nothing wrong with that."

You both jumped as the hotel room phone rang. "Must be the pizza," Bradley said, kissing a trail across your chest and ending at your tattoos. You were already turned on again, and watching him parade across the room with a half hard dick was not helping you calm down. He answered the phone as he started to pull his pants on, skipping the underwear. Then he pulled his shirt on and walked back to the bed. 

"I'll be right back, Sugar," he said, placing a kiss on your lips before grabbing his wallet and the room key. "If you're cold, grab something out of my bag."

You nodded and climbed out of bed, making the decision to turn the air conditioner down and then stopping by Bradley's open suitcase. You saw a quirky looking Hawaiian shirt and slipped it on, doing the two middle buttons to keep it closed. Then you moved everything off to the side of the desk and took a seat on top, saving the chair for him, just as the door opened. 

"Fucking pizzas cost twice as much now, if you can believe it," he muttered as he came to stand in front of you. You reached for the box, but he pulled it away and shook his head slowly. He set the box down on the wheeled chair and then kicked the chair a few feet out of his way. "You look good in my shirt."

"Do I?" you asked, glancing down at yourself. "I was just kind of cold, and you told me I could-"

His mouth was on yours, cutting your sentence short, and you were reaching for his pants zipper. He moaned into your mouth as you carefully got his fly open, and his erection sprang to attention. 

Bradley spread your legs apart just as you were clenching against nothing. "I want you," you whispered against his lips, and he was gently guiding you closer to the edge of the desk. 

"I'm all yours," he told you, pressing just the tip of himself into your pussy. 

You wanted more. Your body was demanding more as you clenched and clenched. But Bradley was taking his time undoing those two buttons and sliding deeper, one slow inch at a time. He ran his fingers along your nipples, and you were already practically shaking. 

"Fuck me again. Fuck me hard like you did on the beer pong table."

Bradley's eyes were so lust filled, you almost screamed as he slammed his cock all the way deep inside you. He was going so hard, you were grabbing along the wall behind you, searching for something to hang on to while he held your hips.

"I fucked you so hard on the beer pong table, because you were wearing that ridiculous little skirt. Somehow, this shirt on you is even hotter," he said, gasping for his words.

You were getting loud; you should have been covering your mouth, but your hands finally grabbed on to something to keep you upright as Bradley railed you. 

"Oh shit," you cried out, accidentally knocking the lamp on the floor with a crash, but neither of you stopped going. You gave up and grabbed his shoulders, and somehow he went even deeper as you spread your legs wider for him.

The wet sounds and his skin slapping against yours had you reeling. You were going to need this all the time again. Your head tipped back and Bradley brought his mouth down to your nipple, sucking hard as you came. 

No other man had ever managed to give you three orgasms, let alone three in two hours!

"Oh fuck, Bradley!" you moaned, and you saw his face and neck tense up before going slack. He bottomed out one last time and groaned. His sweaty forehead came to rest against yours, and as you both caught your breath, he kissed you so gently. 

"I always did like sharing my clothes with you."

You giggled against his lips, threading your fingers through his hair again while you kissed him. 

And this time his cum dripped out onto the desk. Bradley offered to get a washcloth to clean you and the table, but he just stood there, looking at your spread legs and smiling. Finally his eyes snapped up to yours before he went to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up. 

"Don't step on the broken lamp," he reminded you as he helped you off the desk and guided you into his arms.

The fact that you ended up eating cold pizza while straddling Bradley Bradshaw on a desk chair in a hotel room was so surreal. You'd have never believed it if someone told you that this morning. But he was kissing your neck and nudging your breasts with his nose between bites, and you were telling him funny stories about your students. 

You couldn't remember being this happy in such a long time.

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

You were going to wear him out, and he was one hundred percent here for it. When the pizza was finished, you lured Bradley into the shower with you. He could remember how it felt when you showered together in his fraternity house, and this was just as good. 

But now he was afraid he was going to get his heart broken by you a second time. He had dated Miranda for almost a year before ending things two months ago, and she never made him feel this way inside. He had dated you for less than four months ten years ago, but he always kind of felt like he never got over you.

And now it was abundantly clear that he hadn't. 

"You okay, Beer Boy?" you asked softly, looking up at him as you ran your fingers through his hair to rinse out the shampoo. "Or maybe I should be calling you Beer Man now?" you asked with a smile. "You're so grown up."

He just shook his head. "I'll always be your Beer Boy, Sugar."

You let your palms come to rest on his cheeks, and you were gently rubbing his mustache again like you did at the bar. "Do you want to be my date for the reunion?" 

"Hell yes," he whispered immediately, making you giggle again. "I'd love that."

"Me too," you whispered with a yawn. Bradley turned off the shower and got you bundled up in a towel.

"Here, I grabbed you a toothbrush when I was in the lobby. And you can use anything from my bag there," he said, kissing your cheek and then leaving you in the bathroom with some privacy. 

He pulled on some clean boxers and then dug one of his tee shirts out of his bag for you. Oh, he was screwed now. Asking you to sleep over with him was probably a bad decision he would never recover from. But he was having a hard time regretting it at this moment, when you walked naked out of the bathroom and right into his arms. 

"I'm chilly," you said with a little pout. 

Wordlessly, he pulled the shirt over your head and guided you to the bed once again. 

"I'll keep you warm," he promised, climbing into bed behind you. He let you get settled, and then he wrapped his arm around you and acted as your big spoon, something he remembered doing before.

"Will you tell me about flight school and the Navy?" you asked softly as Bradley kissed the back of your neck.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Bradley told you about how cold it was in Rhode Island and how everyone made fun of him for whining about it all winter. You told him that's how you felt in Chicago, too. Then he told you about all of the different places he lived; barracks and apartments and sad rental housing. He told you about the first time he flew an F/A-18 solo. And he tried to describe what it felt like to take off and land on the deck of an aircraft carrier. 

He left out the parts where he missed you so much that he occasionally cried and was rather moody, and found it hard to make friends at first. But he did tell you about Nat and Bob and how much he loved his friends now.

Bradley thought you had fallen asleep by how soft and even your breathing was, so he was surprised when you asked him where he lived now.

He gently caressed your side and belly with his big hand, trying to figure out how to tell you where he lived. If you were seriously considering a job at San Diego State University, he didn't want you to know that he lived there and worked at Top Gun. 

He had to stop himself from indulging in a fantasy where you chose that school to be near him. Where you wanted to date him again. 

No, it was better if you made this decision on your own, because he was also selfish. He didn't want to feel the rejection of telling you where he lived only for you to choose Miami. 

"West coast," he whispered, holding you tight as you hummed in response. And now you really were drifting to sleep, and Bradley was drifting off into a dream where you never broke up with him in the first place.

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

They really have a lot they should talk about... Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

PART 3

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[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute, Chapter 2 - Kid

Source for pic

Word Count: 2347

Warnings: Fem!Reader, swearing, minor sugestive behaviour. This is going to be a series featuring Ace, Sanji, Law, Zoro and Kid.

Special Warning: English is not my first language!

Summary: You had your life in Grand Line City all figured out. A wonderful job, a fiancé and a shared apartment. Until you found out he was cheating. Your father, Shanks, had a horse riding accident and you decided that this was just the right time to return home. You were expecting a peaceful, uneventful life back in the Calm Belt, but, fate had other plans.

|Chapter 1 - Ace| / |Chapter 3 - Zoro|

Kid:

“How’d you sleep, bug?” Shanks asks as soon as you descend the stairs. You're still in your PJ’s, which consist of shorts and a tank top - no bra, it's 8 in the morning for Christ's sake and you've been woken by the rooster call three times already. 

You actually had a nice night. Your childhood bed is still as comfortable as you remember it being and the light snores coming from down the hall in Shanks’ bedroom were oddly comforting, lulling you to sleep almost instantly.

It wasn’t until you woke up in the morning that you remembered why you were in your childhood home and just how much your life sucked at the moment, since all of your life’s plans and goals had been thrown down the toilet. 

“Like a rock until about 6. Then that stupid rooster made it his personal mission to get me out of bed.” You say in between yawns as you fill yourself a cup of coffee. “Hey I was going to make you breakfast!” You whine with a pout while you stare at the eggs and bacon strips on top of the stove. 

Shanks gets up and sets his mug in the sink with a wink. “Bug, if you want to make me breakfast, you need to get up when the rooster tells you to.” 

“I don't know if that is going to happen…” You mumble, stifling another yawn. “And where are you going?” You place a hand on your hip trying to look menacing but failing miserably. “Shouldn't you be resting? Do I need to go speak with the doctor?”

“I'm fine! I was bedridden for a week and a half and I only felt better when I started to work again. If you want your daddy happy and healed, you need to let me work.” You flash him an angry look and he raises his hands defensively. “I'll take it easy, I promise!”

You give him a small, resigned nod and he kisses your forehead with a chuckle as he sets his straw hat on his head. At the same time, the front door springs open and a bulky man with red hair walks through the door, straight to the kitchen. 

“Morning, boss.” He grunts as he passes Shanks and approaches the coffee pot which is right next to you. “Morning, Miss.” His hand reaches for the pot but stops mid-way. 

You stare at his orange eyes and he blinks twice, a crimson blush capable of rivalling his hair spreads across his cheeks. His hand falls back to his side as he finally turns to you, an embarrassed look upon his features as his eyes settle everywhere except on your face. 

“I… um… I… you must be… um…”

“The boss’s daughter.” You add with a smirk and extend him your - still untouched - mug of coffee. “Coffee?”

He grumbles a timid yes and takes the mug from your hand. 

“Hey, Kid. I see you've met my daughter. You remember I told you she was coming to live with me?” Shanks comes into the kitchen, a smirk spreading on his lips at Kid’s evident embarrassment. 

Which is rather cute, you can't help but think. He is really tall and muscular and he's wearing jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks very similar to your father, with his red hair and a missing arm. Secretly you hope he's not a long-lost brother. On his head, holding back his red hair, lays a set of goggles. He looks tough with his scarred face and heavy bulky body, but his embarrassment is endearing. 

“Yeah, I do.” His eyes wander back, up and down your exposed legs until he hears a dry harumph from your father and turns slightly away, never quite meeting your eyes. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same.” You smile back and tell him your name before you turn and open the cabinet door to get another mug for your coffee. The mugs are all the way in the back so you have to bend and stretch over the counter, your arms raised above your head, unintentionally exposing your belly and making your shorts ride up, almost flashing your butt cheeks. You hear a very audible gulp followed by loud coughing from Kid and turn back around, alarmed. 

He seems to be struggling to get some air, having choked while drinking the coffee, as Shanks just guffaws in the background. “That’ll teach you not to ogle at my baby girl!” He slaps the man's back with more force than necessary, and that helps him breathe again. “Come, Kid. The tractor ain't gonna fix itself.” Then he places a hand on the scruff of his neck and drags him away from you. 

You follow Kid with your eyes as your father drags him away and he flashes you a cocky grin, making you chuckle. 

Between Ace and Kid, your stay in the Calm Belt is sure to provide you with some very nice eye candy. 

-*-

After fixing yourself a plate of breakfast, you decide to scroll through your socials, trying to see what your big city friends are up to and how much of the social life you are missing. 

Obviously you end up depressed because, being an idiot, you didn't delete any of your ex’s socials and he doesn't seem to be the least bit fazed about your breakup or your departure since there's about a dozen different photos with him and three different bimbos latched onto his arm. 

“Having the best time of my life; Wasted and in trouble; Come and get your man!” You make a disgusted sound. “Ugh, what a jerk!”

You groan and block your phone in fury, all hunger forgotten as you get up, throw the plate in the sink and go get dressed. You need to vent. And you might have just the thing to help out with your stress relief. 

Choosing some jean shorts and a white, off-shoulder top, you search your closet from top to bottom before finding out what you were looking for: a bb gun! Shanks had offered you this when you were little and had helped you practise your target shooting with some cans, near the barn. Grinning in victory, you grab a can of pellets and place the bb - which resembles a shotgun - on your shoulder, fetch a hat to protect you from the heat, and head outside with a determined pace. 

On the way, you fill a bag with some empty cans from the recycling bin in the kitchen and draw something that resembles your ex on each of them with a sharpie. To be truthful, it's just a stick figure with his most characteristic traces, but it's the thought that counts, really, so you're satisfied. 

The barn is not far from the main house but the sun is very hot and you feel yourself starting to sweat before you reach the shade. That just adds fuel to the fire that's already burning your insides. 

Grumbling you line up the cans on top of the fence, making sure there are no animals nearby, and fall a few paces behind, aiming your gun as your father thought you to. You try to concentrate but all the clanking coming from inside the barn is distracting you, so you have to take a few deep breaths before you calm down. 

You shoot five times, one for each target, and you fail all of them. 

“What the hell?” You mutter between your teeth as you reload the gun. “I'm gonna have to do this like a freaking child.” You keep grumbling as you take a few steps forward, approaching the target. “Now I have to hit the target.”

You take another deep breath and notice that the clanking noise has stopped, so you can concentrate better. Another five shots and-... 

Another five misses. 

“Son of a nutcracker!” You exclaim while huffing and kicking a nearby rock. 

“Colourful vocabulary. Be careful, you might offend some five year olds.”

You turn around and meet the amused expression of Kid. He's leaning against the barn wall, his hand in his pocket and a smirk on his very red lips. He doesn't seem to be embarrassed by your presence anymore. It might've been just the shock of meeting you. 

You roll your eyes at Kid’s remark, your own smile tugging at your lips despite your frustration. “Why? Are you offended?”

“Sparkles, the person capable of offending me is yet to be born.” 

“Sparkles?” You don't know whether to feel insulted or flattered. “What am I, a dog?”

He smirks again, completely ignoring your question, and you stare him down with fire in your eyes. “You're doing that wrong.” He points at the cans. 

The dormant frustration in your belly roars and rises to meet his taunts. “What do you mean? Dad taught me how to shoot the cans.”

“Your father is great with many things, shooting ain't one of them.” He approaches you and you have to look up to meet his eyes. He has to be at least 2 metres tall. “I'll teach you how to do it properly.”

You tilt your head to the side and grunt, annoyed by his arrogance, and get into position again after loading the gun. “I got it, thanks.” But before you shoot, his foot nudges yours to spread your legs open some more. 

“Spread ‘em, Sparkles.” Your eyes widen and you're about to show him some of your frustration when he gets behind you, his strong arm surrounding yours and raising your elbow, adjusting your aim. The rush of heat to your cheeks and the lack of air in your lungs makes you stop your fussing and actually do what he says. 

“Your weight needs to be evenly distributed or your aim will be shit. Rest the butt of the rifle  against your shoulder to help with the kick.” He adjusts the rifle accordingly and, surprisingly, his touch is gentle. 

You face the targets as he adjusts your arm a bit more, suddenly you're very conscious of the heat coming off of him in waves. He smells faintly of metal and rust, sweat and… gasoline?

His breath comes in hot waves against your ear and neck when he speaks. “You're going to want to aim with one eye closed and focus on the top of the can so you can compensate for the gravity. And then,” His hand wraps around yours and it's impressive how tiny your own hand looks against his, “squeeze the trigger, don't jerk it or you’ll ruin the aim again.” 

Kid removes his hand and you do exactly what he told you to, closing one eye and focusing on the top of the can. “Grip firmly, breathe deeply, let it out slowly and then hold your breath before you press the trigger.” He adds. “Take all the time you need between shots, don’t rush it. Got it, Sparkles?”

You hum softly, trying not to move and waste his efforts with adjusting your aim. You inhale through your nose - yup, gasoline - and exhale through your mouth, feeling Kid's taut muscles against your back.  He falls back just a little, giving you space, and you shoot. 

You try not to lose your cool as the pellets start knocking cans. You want a perfect score. You need a win. This is your inner revenge for those social media photos you had to put up with this morning. You imagine your ex’s stupid face on each of the metal cans, and they keep dropping down with resounding clangs. 

Five freaking hits. 

Taking just a second to absorb the feeling of accomplishment, you then squeal and jump, a victory roar rumbling from your chest as you approach the fallen cans and kick one of them into the air. “Take that, you fluffernutter!”

Kid follows you to inspect your handiwork and his laugh is thunderous but, somehow, it makes you giddy. “Still keeping it G? Not even PG? After hitting all the marks?” He tuts and shakes his head as he picks up one of the cans. “I'm disappointed, Sparkles.”

He guffaws before you have a chance to reply. “Who's this supposed to be?”

Leaning back against the fence and huffing a lock of hair away from your face, you sigh deeply. “An asshole.” You shrug and point at the can he's holding. “That deserves to be in the trash can.” You extend your hand waiting for him to pass it to you, so you can collect the rest and be on your way, but his grin widens, his brows scrunching down into a menacing scowl. 

“Fuck him, then.” He crushes the can with his bare hand into a pile of useless metal and you gasp, finding the action alluring and blushing against your will. 

“That was not PG. You should mind your tongue.” You whisper, your eyes never leaving his. 

“Sparkles,” Kid approaches you and deposits the crushed metal in your hand. Then he leans forward, his head lowering as his lips hover near your ear and his hand grabs the fence beside you, caging you between it and his larger frame. “Swearing is not the only thing I can do with my tongue.”

He groans in your ear - sending a shiver up your spine and catching your breath - and turns around, heading towards the barn and you're positive he's wearing that cocky smirk again.

He halts and turns - yup, the smirk is there. “Sparkles, you know? Like a lively, glittery, bright little thing. Something that brings joy. Not a dog.” He guffaws loudly and disappears inside the barn, leaving you flushed and flattered at the same time. 

Twice this morning you have been stirred against your will. First by the rooster’s wake-up call, and now by Kid’s cocky behaviour and arrogance. If the first one left you annoyed and bothered, the second one left you hot and bothered

You’re used to predictability but if all your days grant you surprises like this one, maybe being stirred awake is not such a bad prospect.

[xylianasblog]

A time to remember.

Pairings: Jake Sully x FemHuman reader

Summary: uhh uhh

Warnings: MDNI, face sitting, oral (fem receiving), maybe edging?

A/n: Day 12 of pandoras glow! I’m sorry it’s so late babies, my son has been sick as well as myself so my time has been occupied. Not proofread.

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦MDNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

You had did very little to muffle your small moans as you worked your fingers in and out of your drenched cunt. There was no need for you to be quiet you had your own room to yourself within hells gates.

Biting down on the palm of your hand to muffle the louder your cries got, your frustration grown with each pump of your fingers inside yourself. You were so desperate, the need to come filled your entire being. “Ya know, I could have you comin instantly babygirl.” The sound Jake’s voice had your eyes popping open, and as quickly as you could you pulled your fingers free from your cunt and pressed your legs together.

“For fucks sake Sully, don’t you ever, I don’t know Knock?” You grumbled as the embarrassment of getting caught showed on your face, Jake could only chuckle as he took in your disheveled form, his eyes looking over every detail as if he were engraving the image of you slightly fucked out into his mind.

“Yes, but not when my favorite person has been MIA for the last few days.” He filled walked into your room, the sliding door closing behind him. He crouched down in front of your bed. “Here I thought you were hurt, nope.” He tilts his head to the side a little. “Turns out you just need to be fucked.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the pout on your lips as you looked around shyly. “You should have told me, I’d have you fucked dumb and coming back for more each time your pussy needed a fillin’.”

His words played over and over in your ears, him saying this and offering was definitely something you never imagined to come from him. You lowered your legs as you stared at him a look of surprise on your face, you contemplated it, how you had always wondered how good it would be, how good it would feel to be touched by Jake in any sort of way. You tilted your head letting your eyes trail over his crouched form. “Get on the bed. We’re gonna do this my way.” The order from your lifts was soft, sweet, Jake instantly knew despite your surprised demeanor you meant business.

Jake chuckled quietly to himself as he positioned himself on his back, legs hanging off the bed bent at an awkward angle as he tried to make himself comfortable. You eyed his form, taking in just how tall he is before your eyes subconsciously trailed down his stomach and over his budge. You looked away you couldn’t eye him much longer, no matter how many times you’ve fantasized about him this was different, real. Your mind wasn’t coming up with scenarios, you glared down at him once more as you clumsily made your way over to him.

Placing your hands on his chest, Jakes hands immediately found your thighs and effortlessly lifted you up. Your slick cunt in his view now, he felt himself twitch in his loincloth. “You look so good for me, babygirl.” He took a deep breath as he filled his lungs with your scent. “Can’t wait to taste your pretty little pussy.”

You were unprepared as he lowered you down onto his face with little to no effort, his hot breath fanning over your folds before you felt his tongue licking a long strip along your slick cunt. You gasped, body jerking forward as you tried to collect yourself. “Fuck.” You grumbled.

Your hands scratched at his stomach, trying to find your bearings as you tried to place to keep yourself grounded. His long slimy tongue thrusting in and out of your soaking wet pussy after he got a good taste of you. Your whimpers and whining filled the room, mixing with his grunts. His hands gripped tightly onto your thighs as he held your body down over his mouth.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He groaned. The feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, the feeling of his tongue thrusting so deep inside your cunt had your mind reeling, your body lurched forward as you came, juices making a mess of his face. Jake all but purred as he devoured you, sucking and licking to his heart's content. Not even caring about your limp body, face pressed into his abdomen as your body shook. “Fuck.. This is definitely my new favorite meal.”

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @blue-slxt @justcaptiannoodles @neteyamyawne @oakbuggy @eywaite @luvv4j4ybe11 @quicktosimp @cardi-bre91 @torukmaktoskxawng @rivatar @thepeonysbackup @tallulah477 @anemonelovesfiction

[slaymitchabernathy]

Playpen

| this story was inspired by the unreleased song ‘Playpen’ by Billie Eilish |

| “this is my playpen, borderline thinking like barbie baby, can you play ken?” |

Coriolanus does not want to be here.

He all but drags his feet on the pavement as they walk to the front door. “Stop sulking Coriolanus,” his mother snaps, shooting him a stern look from over her shoulder. It’s hard to take her so seriously when she’s shorter than him but he’s seen her and his father get into enough little arguments to know that height is nothing compared to a woman’s scorn.

Even as she holds his father’s arm she exudes power and regalness.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and chews on his inner cheek, “I just don’t see why I had to come. I don’t even remember her.”

His father grunts as they walk up the few steps that lead to the front door, “Well, you remember her father and that’s more than enough.” His mother nods and turns to look at him, offering him a small smile, “It’s been years since we’ve seen either of them, darling, it’ll be good to reconnect before school starts.”

Coriolanus manages a nod but he’s not too convinced. Not when he could be at his friend Festus Creed’s house doing anything but going to this boring dinner with his parents. Still, he came along.

His father presses the doorbell and stands up straighter, “Besides, don’t you want Soarynn to see what a strapping young man you’ve become?”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes because he highly doubts that Soarynn Nightingale gives a fuck about how he looks. He hasn’t seen her for twelve years and hasn’t thought about her much until right now as he stands on the front steps of her townhouse.

He remembers how well their parents got along, both their mothers would have tea while their fathers would talk for hours about business and politics. Boring stuff really. He and Soarynn would often go up to her room and play with her dolls which at the time, he thought was ridiculous. Playing with dolls was so…girly.

When the door opens, they’re greeted by the familiar sight of Glen Nightingale who doesn’t seem to look any different from what Coriolanus remembers besides the obvious fact that he’s now wearing glasses.

“What a wonderful sight to be greeted by,” he says with a smile before extending his hand out for a handshake. Coriolanus watches his father and Glen both grin as they shake hands, watches how Glen then presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek and then…it’s his turn.

“Coriolanus, you’ve grown so much since I last saw you,” Glen tells him, “you used to be this tall,” he holds his hand up to his thigh. Coriolanus manages a polite smile, “Yes, a lot certainly has changed since we last saw each other.”

Glen chuckles, “They certainly have. Come in please.”

꧁ ꧂

The Nightingale townhouse is exactly how Coriolanus remembers it, with the grandfather clock and the chandelier. He looks around for any signs of Soarynn but she’s nowhere to be found. “Soarynn! The Snows are here!” Glen calls before turning back to his guests, “It’s been an…adjustment for her coming back to the Capitol after so long.” Mother sighs and nods as if she’s the one who spent all that time in District Two, “Yes, I can imagine it might take some getting used to.”

Twelve years ago, Glen Nightingale left the Capitol to go live in District Two on the conditions that it would only be for a year. The man has several investments in Two’s weapons industry and they needed him there in person. So, after much debate, he and his daughter packed up and left.

Coriolanus remembers how sad he was when they left. Watching them climb onto that train and seeing Soarynn wave through the window as the train pulled out of the station. His young mind couldn’t really comprehend the concept of leaving the Capitol but he knew they’d come back soon.

Then they didn’t.

Business plans shifted and Glen stayed in Two for twelve years per the President’s request. Coriolanus hadn’t asked about it much and hadn’t heard much about it either but his father told him that President Ravenstill wanted someone truly Capitol to oversee production in Two. Not some Peacekeeper who only does what they’re told so long as they get paid.

So for twelve years, the Nightingales lived in District Two. They’d come back to the Capitol a week ago so that Soarynn could have some time to adjust before starting her final year at the Academy.

“She misses her friends, how simple things were in Two but, she’ll come around eventually. Perhaps you could help her Coriolanus,” Glen suggests. Coriolanus looks around the foyer to make sure that there’s not another Coriolanus that Glen is addressing but he’s the only one. He gives Glen a tight-lipped smile but he really doesn’t want anything to do with some girl who longs for the Districts. Not when he’s seen how filthy and backward those people are.

“Of course, I suppose I could try to find some free time in my schedule to…”

His voice dies off as he looks at the top of the staircase, his attention suddenly drawn to a very, very pretty young girl.

It’s Soarynn.

She looks so…different. So grown up as she gracefully descends the stairs. She’s wearing a navy blue dress that cinches at the waist and flows right above her knees, held up by two thick velvet straps. Her blonde hair tumbles down her back and it looks so soft. She’s wearing very high heels but she walks in them as if walking on air. The moment they lock eyes, Coriolanus forgets his own name for a moment.

She’s beautiful.

He had forgotten how striking Glen Nightingale’s daughter is. When they were little he didn’t pay much attention to it because girls were gross and he didn’t want to have a crush on anyone.

But this is very different.

Her tan skin compliments her beautifully and her face is dotted with freckles. What’s truly striking about her is her eyes, blue and gray.

Soarynn gives him a smile before turning to their parents, “I do apologize for being late, I had to make sure Petunia was all settled. It’s wonderful to see you again Mr. and Mrs. Snow.”

Coriolanus watches as she embraces his parents. His mother pulls Soarynn in for a true and genuine hug, she always adored Soarynn. His father gives her more of a side hug and runs a hand over her hair before releasing her with a nod as if he’s pleased with the young lady she’s become.

Then it’s his turn and for some reason, he’s nervous.

But he’s a Snow. Coriolanus clears his throat and gives her a slight nod, “It’s nice to see you again Soarynn.” He holds out his hand and Soarynn being the well raised Capitol lady she is, places her hand in his, allowing him to place a swift kiss onto the back of it before releasing her.

“You haven’t changed a bit Coryo,” she says with a grin. Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at the nickname, the nickname he hasn’t heard since she left. It’s surprisingly nice to hear it again.

Coriolanus offers her a small smile, “Thank you. It’s nice to see you back in the Capitol.”

Her perfect society smile falters before she straightens back up again and nods, “Yes,” she agrees, “it’s lovely to be back home.”

꧁ ꧂

“It’s hilarious really, how different they are from us,” mother muses while sipping wine from her glass. Her statement earns her an approving nod from his father who always has and always will hate the Districts and those who live in them.

Coriolanus notices how Soarynn says nothing, her lips pressed into a thin line while her father merely nods, “They most definitely lead a different life than we do,” he finally says.

Coriolanus clears his throat, feeling the need to ease the slight tension in the room, “What was the school like? You attended the District school didn’t you?” Soarynn looks up from her plate where she’s been pushing her chicken around for the last ten minutes and nods, “Yes, I attended school with the other District children.”

Mother lets out a sad sigh and shakes her head, “It's a shame you had to take her with you Glen. She’s missed out on such a fine education here in the Capitol. Why, surely we could’ve stood in as her parents while you were down in Two. We discussed it didn’t we?” She asks father who grunts.

Coriolanus can’t stop the look of surprise on his face and neither can Soarynn although she seems more upset than surprised. “You would’ve let me stay in the Capitol?” She asks her father and it sounds as if she’s accusing him of something horrible, not the opportunity to receive the best education money can buy.

Glen, who is a quiet, passive man for the most part, sighs and gives her a tired look, “I only considered it for a moment when your education was brought up. But I didn’t want you to be too far away from me and the rest is history.” Soarynn still doesn’t look happy and she shoots him an angered look, “What was wrong with the education I received in Two?”

Coriolanus watches his parents exchange looks but they say nothing, this doesn’t concern them it seems. “Nothing was wrong with it honey,” Glen says gently, placing his hand over his daughter’s hand, “for a moment I simply…I worried for you and how you’d conform but everything was fine. Besides, we’re back home now aren’t we?”

Soarynn pulls her hand out from under his and pushes back her chair, “Yes we are. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling too well. I think I’ll retire early.” Soarynn doesn’t wait for a reply and the sound of her chair scratching across the hardwood causes Coriolanus to cringe.

She’s out of the room before anyone can say a thing.

Glen sighs and shakes his head, “As I said before, she’s having a difficult time adjusting.” He’s met with sympathetic nods from all the Snows and his mother reaches her hand across the table to give his arm a squeeze, “She’ll come around Glen. If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll bounce back in no time.”

Coriolanus barely remembers Mrs. Nightingale. Only that she had a kind smile and smelled like vanilla.

She died right before the Nightingales left for Two and Coriolanus can’t help but wonder if that’s why they truly stayed away for so long, if they couldn’t bear to come home to a house without her in it.

Glen offers her a small smile, “It’s been strange not having her around. We were barely able to process her passing before we packed up and left. Coming home felt…different.”

Coriolanus tunes out the rest of their conversation, his mind keeps drifting to the girl upstairs who’s probably hurting more than she’s letting on. She won’t survive her final year of the Academy if she keeps acting like this. Glen would do well to keep her home if this behavior continues.

He’s moving before he can stop himself, “Where are you going, darling?” His mother’s question is what draws him out of his thoughts and Coriolanus realizes that he’s standing up, “I thought I might check on Soarynn,” he explains.

All the adults nod and Glen nods towards the chocolate-covered strawberries sitting in a bowl in the middle of the table, “Bring that up. It’s her favorite dessert.” I know, Coriolanus wants to say but he just takes the bowl and heads to the foyer.

He hasn’t climbed these stairs in years but he still remembers the way to Soarynn’s bedroom. It’s near the back of the house and she even has a balcony that overlooks their backyard.

The door is shut and he knocks once, twice, three times.

He gets no response but he doubts that Soarynn is asleep so he carefully opens the door. He’s greeted by something brushing against his leg and looks down to see a fluffy white cat looking up at him. Her eyes are almost the same color as Soarynn’s and she has a pink nose with a pink ribbon tied around her neck.

If Soarynn were a cat, she’d look just like this one.

The cat meows before turning to go back into the room and Coriolanus follows her, gently closing the door behind him. He remembers how badly Soarynn wanted a cat when she was little. Looks like she got her wish.

The cat leads him to the balcony where the doors are slightly ajar and they creak when he pushes them open. He finds Soarynn sitting on the ground, her knees pulled to her chest as she looks out into her backyard. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture,” she says.

Coriolanus awkwardly shifts on his feet, she must think her father came to see her. “Are you in the mood for dessert?” He asks and Soarynn turns to look up at him, her eyes are wide, “Oh, I’m sorry. I…I thought you were my fa—“

“Your father? Yeah, I figured,” he says, taking a few more steps towards her, “I came up to check on you. And I come bearing gifts,” he adds, holding up the bowl of treats.

Soarynn smiles a little and brushes her hair behind her ears, “Alright. I do hate to miss dessert.”

꧁ ꧂

It’s strange to be back in her room when it looks so different.

Her bedsheets are still pink but the walls are no longer that color, they’re now a light blue, and all the toys that used to be scattered around the floor are gone. There’s a vanity and a dresser and Coriolanus can see into her closet where there are tons of clothes.

Soarynn doesn’t seem to be put off by the mess of several moving boxes on the floor, she just slips onto her bed and scratches her cat behind the ears.

Coriolanus sits on the very edge of the bed. He doesn’t want to get too comfortable. “What’s her name?” He asks, watching the feline purr as she’s given attention. Soarynn smiles and gently picks up the cat and places her in her lap, “Petunia. I got her for my sixteenth birthday.” That was over a year ago considering that Soarynn is now seventeen. Coriolanus is too although he’s a few months older than her.

“Are you…happy to be back?” He asks with some caution in his tone. Soarynn frowns and plays with the hem of her dress, “Happy? No. Overwhelmed? Most definitely.”

He can understand that, it must be a lot to come back into this lifestyle. Especially after living in the Districts. From what he was told, the Nightingales lived in one of the houses in the Victor’s Village with the finest Capitol things money could buy. He still would rather live in the Capitol, but as it seems, beggars can’t be choosers.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it again,” he assures her, placing the bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries in front of her. Soarynn nods but she looks like she doesn’t believe it.

She looks very pretty.

“There’s a boy in our class, Sejanus Plinth,” Coriolanus remembers, “he’s from Two. His family moved here after the war.” Soarynn raises her eyebrows, they both lived through the war although he can’t imagine what it was like in Two. It was the Capitol’s main military base but he can bet that there were moments of pure fear.

“Maybe I can befriend him," Soarynn decides before taking a strawberry and popping it into her mouth. It’s hard not to notice how her lips wrap around it and how she swallows and…he’s losing focus.

Soarynn pushes the bowl towards him, “Want one?” He feels his face getting hotter by the second, “No thanks. Um, you got rid of your dolls,” he says stupidly.

Soarynn smirks and looks around at her room, the room that has now grown up with her. Dolls for dresses and stuffed animals for shoes. She’s all grown up now.

“Well I’m not that little girl anymore Coriolanus,” she says and his throat tightens at how low her voice has gotten. Soarynn is very attractive but he barely knows her anymore it feels like.

“So what? You mean to tell me you got some experience under your belt out in Two?” He asks, a hint of jealousy in his voice. Three hours ago Soarynn didn’t mean a damn thing to him. But now, now things are different. Their dynamic is different.

Soarynn looks so soft and delicate. The mere thought of some District scum putting their grubby, dirty hands on her. No, Soarynn Nightingale deserves the hands of a Capitol man on her body.

She tilts her head and offers him a smile that tells him that she certainly isn’t that little girl playing with dolls anymore. “You could say that,” she replies.

Coriolanus swallows because now he has to know what she’s done and compare to what he’s done.

“Go on,” he encourages and Soarynn shifts on her bed, her legs tucked under her as she thinks, “Well, my first kiss was behind the school, I don’t quite remember his name though.”

It’s like he can feel his jaw tightening, his hands curling into fists. Soarynn doesn’t stop though, in fact, it seems like she’s trying to piss him off. “Then there was my first time doing anything orally, we almost got caught too, but it was well worth it.” Coriolanus nods but doesn’t say anything, “And my first time, well, it was a Peacekee—“

Coriolanus is lunging across the bed before he can stop himself and has Soarynn pinned under him in a matter of seconds, her wrists held together in one of his hands while his knee keeps her thighs apart.

“Tell me you didn’t let some lowlife Peacekeeper fuck you for the first time,” he grits out. Soarynn blinks up at him so innocently that he’s starting to gain some hope, “Of course not. It was one of the winning Tributes from District Two. You remember the boy from a couple years ago don’t you?”

She’s trying to rile him up and she’s succeeded. His lips are on hers in a matter of seconds and she’s kissing him back with the same amount of passion. It seems that she feels some type of way about him as well. This feeling goes further than friendship.

His teeth nip at her bottom lip and Soarynn gasps, allowing him to explore her mouth and claim it as his. If she's as experienced as she claims, she should have no problem showing him what she's learned. He slips a hand down between her thighs and relishes in the moan she lets out. She's so sweet and soft even in the most lustful moments.

He can feel how soaked she is through her lace panties, how desperate she is. Was this her plan from the start? To lure him up here? If it was, she succeeded. "Already soaked," he whispers against her lips, "makes me wonder if you're as loose as those District girls." Soarynn's reaction to those words is immediate and painful as she grabs a fistful of his golden curls and yanks his head back.

"I am not some District whore," she spits out, attempting to sit up. But Coriolanus can't have that and he's quick to push her back down, using his full body weight this time to keep her pinned to the bed, "No?" He taunts, "Because you certainly couldn't be a polite Capitol lady who saves herself for marriage. Which begs the question Soarynn, what do you want to be?"

Soarynn gasps when his fingers graze her clit and she bucks her hips up before whispering the word that makes his cock throb, "Yours."

So she did plan this. Well, he's not going to be the one to ruin her fun, not when he's just as eager as she is. His fingers pull her panties to the side and he groans when he's finally granted access to her cunt, it's so wet, so eager for him to play with. Soarynn is moaning and whimpering as he drags two fingers up and down her folds, "Stop teasing," she whines.

Coriolanus chuckles and places several kisses on her neck, "Stop whining." Soarynn scoffs but the attitude fades the moment he slips the fingers into her cunt and they both moan at the sensation. Her walls wrap around his fingers as he drags them in and out at a leisurely pace, warming her up for bigger things. "Oh, please," she moans, "feels so good. Fuck Coryo."

Her cunt feels so good and he's only got two fingers in. And Soarynn is something else, the way her hips buck up and her eyes squeeze shut. She's a vision.

He can't believe that this is the same girl he used to play dolls with.

He can feel his bulge growing bigger and bigger as the minutes pass, straining in his boxers. Coriolanus glances over his shoulder at her bedroom door, the door that could open at any moment and expose them.

But he's not too worried, not yet at least.

He turns his focus back to Soarynn whose moans are music to his ears. He wants to see more of her, feel more of her. "Take off your dress," he says, pulling his fingers out from her cunt which earns him a frustrated whine. "Why would I do that?" Soarynn asks rather defiantly, her eyes holding his in a delicate yet dangerous staring contest. He's forgotten, he thinks, how feisty she can get.

But Coriolanus doesn't let that stop him. In fact, he ignores it and begins unbuttoning his own shirt, casting it aside once he's shrugged it off, revealing his sculpted abdomen. Soarynn stares for a moment and bites her lip, "Fine." He almost wants to laugh at how easy it was to get her to agree to his request but perhaps the Districts have changed her in more ways than one.

The dress is a bit more tricky to get off, Coriolanus had found that all women's clothing is far too complicated for his liking. But, being the true gentleman he is, Coriolanus helps Soarynn out of the dress, revealing the pair of dark blue panties stuck to her cunt and her bare breasts.

He swallows because she looks just like the dolls they used to play with. He remembers them well, blue eyes with long lashes painted onto their faces with their blonde hair styled however Soarynn wanted. Every once in a while she'd want to change their outfits and he would be tasked with dressing them. As a young boy, he didn't really like that part. There was of course, nothing to see when it came to dressing the doll, but now he can't help but notice how alike Soarynn is to them.

A small waist and long legs, breasts that are the perfect size, and a pretty face.

"You look like a doll," he blurts out and she gives him a nervous smile, "In a good way, or a bad way?" She asks, tilting her head. Coriolanus grabs her waist and pulls her back under him, his lips ghosting the shell of her ear, "In a good way," he says, his voice deep and husky.

He has to fuck her now or he might just combust, "You don't happen to have a condom on you?" He asks, somewhat embarrassed at asking such a stupid yet necessary question. His mother often talks about wanting grandchildren sooner than later but now is not the time to get started on that.

Soarynn smirks and shakes her head, "I'm on the pill." Well, she doesn't need to do any more convincing. Coriolanus works quickly to unbutton and unzip his pants, desperate to feel Soarynn's walls wrapped around his cock. Soarynn whimpers at the sight of his cock straining in his boxers, "Am I bigger than the Victor you let fuck you?" He asks, wondering how those two even crossed paths.

Does Glen Nightingale know about his daughter sleeping around?

Soarynn wraps a leg around his waist, her heel pressing into his back, "I guess I'll have to feel you to find out," she snaps and now he's pissed. Coriolanus nods and finally pulls out his cock, hard and ready to fuck her the way she needs to be fucked. "It'll be the only thing that fucks you," he tells her as he slowly pushes into her entrance.

Soarynn gasps as her walls wrap tightly around his cock, she feels so fucking good, so wet and warm. "Fuck," he pants, "you feel so good Soarynn." He's almost all the way in and Soarynn's eyes are already rolling to the back of her head, her hands fly to his shoulders and her nails dig into the skin.

Once he bottoms out they both take a breath, his forehead rests on hers. He watches her face for any signs of discomfort or pain but finds none. Her eyes are closed as she takes in deep breaths and she really is the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

He decides then and there that they're now an inseparable pair, she won't have to worry about fitting in at the Academy and making friends as long as she's at his side.

He begins to thrust in slowly, setting a nice steady pace while he thinks of their future together. They'll be quite the attractive pair, and from what he's heard, Soarynn is very intelligent which is good, he could never date some ditzy girl. They'll go to all the parties, galas, and events that are thrown in the Capitol. His parents will be thrilled that he's finally settled down and Glen will be pleased and relieved that his daughter has assimilated back into the Capitol culture.

Soarynn rakes her nails down his shoulders once he picks up the pace and she moans loudly, too loudly so he's quick to press his lips to hers, both of them tangled in a passionate kiss. "Is this better than some District scum?" He asks her, his hips slamming into hers relentlessly, "Or do you still need to find out." His hand slips down between her legs and his fingers find her clit, rubbing it in circles and Soarynn makes a pitiful noise at the stimulation, "No!" She cries out, her entire body seizing, "You're the best Coryo," she says, "you're the best."

He smirks and presses one last kiss to her lips before pulling away so he can look at the ungodly sight of his cock thrusting in and out of her tight little cunt. She takes him so well and he meant it when he said it, he'll be the only one fucking her from now on.

He picks up the pace, wanting to get Soarynn to her peak before he reaches his and watches how her face twists in ecstasy. Her lips are parted, her cheeks flush and her eyes rolling back. "Oh, please," she whimpers, "please, please, please let me cum." Out of all the girls he's fucked, Soarynn is definitely the most polite.

Coriolanus grabs her hip with the other hand and keeps her pinned to the bed as he fucks her towards her orgasm, her body is spasming now, too overwhelmed and overstimulated to do anything but lie there and take it.

He loves it.

"That's right," he says, "take it like the good girl you are Soarynn. You look so perfect like this, stuck on my cock, taking everything I give you like my own little fuckdoll."

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut and he can feel her walls fluttering around him as she finally hits her peak. She's a sight for sore eyes when she cums, her back bends off the bed like a puppet on a string and her mouth is open in a silent scream as she works through her orgasm.

But Coriolanus isn't finished with her, not yet. He still has to finish, even if she is sensitive and tired. He bends back over her body, his elbows on either side of her head, caging her in. "Look at me Soarynn," he orders and he's truly taken aback by her startling blue-gray eyes. "Did you let that Victor finish inside of you? Let him finish deep inside your tight little cunt?" He's taunting her but he also does want to know, wants to know if she's been tainted.

Soarynn bites her lip and looks away for a moment, "No," she manages to get out before he lands a particularly hard thrust abusing her sweet spot, "No, I...I didn't let him finish inside of me," she gasps. Coriolanus hums and takes a hand to wrap around her pretty little throat, "Well I fully intend on finishing inside of this cunt every single time. Do you understand?" Her eyes are wide but she also can't breathe very well so she nods, wheezing for air.

Coriolanus smiles, pleased that she didn't put up any arguments. He sits back up, wanting to see this all unfold as he finishes inside of her for the first time. "Good, now take it like you should."

꧁ ꧂

"Coriolanus! Let's go, darling," his mother calls before getting into the car.

Coriolanus looks over his shoulder and nods before looking back down at Soarynn who's smiling up at him. They're both at her front door, leaning against the doorway. She stands on one side of the threshold, inside her childhood home with Petunia sitting right next to her. He stands on the other side, the cool evening air sending chills down his spine.

"When do you have your uniform fittings?" He asks, reaching out to take a piece of her soft blonde hair, twirling it around his finger. Soarynn watches him for a moment before answering, "In two days, I got in last minute thankfully." Their school year starts next week, its a good thing they managed to squeeze her in before she ended up walking around in the most unflattering of clothes.

"I'll come with you," he decides, "keep you company." Soarynn giggles and takes a step towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck which causes her to stand on her tiptoes, "I'd like that," she whispers. Coriolanus presses one last kiss to her lips, his hand coming to hold the back of her head as Soarynn sighs into the kiss.

When they pull away he's breathless and still can't believe how the night has ended for them. "I'll see you soon," he promises, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she releases him, watching him walk to his car. He looks back at the Nightingale's townhouse one last time and sees Soarynn holding Petunia, using one of her paws to wave goodbye although the cat does not look too happy about that.

Coriolanus laughs and gives them both a final wave before getting into the car and closing the door. he's met with expectant looks from both his parents who he's sure are very curious as to why when he and Soarynn came back downstairs an hour and a half ago, they were extremely cozy with each other.

"Well?" Mother asks, leaning forward to get the scoop. Coriolanus shrugs and looks out the window at the Capitol streets blurring by, "We simply reconnected. Soarynn is a lovely girl and I think we might pursue something more serious."

His mother almost lets out a sigh of relief and smiles at him then at his father, "Well that is wonderful news darling. She is rather lovely, and it helps that we already know her father." Coriolanus nods but his gaze finds his father who still hasn't said anything. His opinion matters the most.

He clears his throat and gives Coriolanus a simple nod, "It's a good union," he decides, "two powerful names joining together and securing the bloodline. Keep her safe and by your side at all times and everything will go the way it should."

Coriolanus swallows, "Yes sir."

Mother is beaming the entire car ride, ecstatic about the young couple while Coriolanus looks out the window again. He can't help but smile as they pull in front of their apartment building.

Snow lands on top once again.

| Part 1. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[holylulusworld]

Walkered (1): Frustration

Summary: You’re getting on is nerves. Right?

Pairing: August Walker x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy August, sub/dom undertones, implied mentions of subspace

A/N: This is the first part of my sub/dom drabble collection with Dom!August Walker.

Walkered masterlist

“You think you’re funny, huh?” He growls in your direction.

You don’t know what you did to deserve August’s wrath today, but that’s all you get from him. A cold glare in your direction, and snarl as you don’t give him a reaction.

“No. I think I’m cute,” you give him your sweetest smile and bat your eyelashes. If you want to survive in this world, especially at your working place, you cannot let a man walk all over you.

He releases a frustrated huff. Most of the women he met in his life would’ve cried when he barks at them.

But you. You are a whole new level of frustration to him. “You’re neither cute nor funny. Do you think it’s funny to mess with my report?”

You bend down to open the drawer of your rolling file cabinet to get a lollipop from your secret stash. If you must face August Walker today, you’ll not do it without something sweet to make him more bearable.

He’s the epitome of a grumpy bear with an attitude.

You sit back up, looking around your small cubicle to calm your nerves. There’s a fake sunflower next to a unicorn plushie. You smile as you remember the day you got it.

“Did you even listen?” He grunts and snaps his fingers in front of your face. August steps into your personal space to stare down at you. “Where is my report?”

“It’s not my job to take care of your reports, Sir.” You dare not to tell August what's on your mind. He’s fucking tall and beefy and the way he squares his jaw makes you whimper.

He dips his head to look at all the knick-knacks on your desk. “What’s all of this?” He asks. “Plushies, toys…sweets.” August nods thoughtfully. “Do you like surrounding yourself with fluffy things, princess?”

You swallow thickly.

His hand. That large paw is suddenly on your face, and it’s surprisingly gentle and warm. Your eyes flutter shut as you bask in his warmth.

“Hmm…you don’t belong here.” He murmurs. “You hate this job, and you’re not good at it. I see the way you dreamily look out of the window.”

Usually, you would protest, but his hand is so warm, and you feel yourself drifting away. “What is it that you want, princess?” His breath fans over your face, making you whine.

“Hmm…” you’re so sleepy and just want to curl into a ball on your bed, wrapped in a warm blanket. “Warm.”

He chuckles at your reaction. August never took his time to get to know more about you. Now he found your weak spot. You’re a natural sub and love giving up control.

“You want to be safe and warm, huh?” He furrows his brows. It’s been a long time since he found a natural sub. Most of the girls he spent his time with lately wanted to try new things to spice up their sex life.

They never lasted long. Not with a dominant man like August. “How about I take you home tonight? We could talk about my report too.”

“Hmm…Julie took care of it,” you murmur, afraid to be any louder. “I don’t know what happened to it.”

“Good girl,” he lowers himself to whisper in your ear. “I want you to get off work earlier today. Meet me at the garage. We have a lot of things to discuss.”

You blink your eyes open the moment he takes his hand off your cheek.

“I—” you don’t know how to react, or what to say. August was nothing but vile towards you, and now he made you feel things you haven’t felt in a long time. “I can’t. You’re so mean.”

“No when it comes to my girl,” he brushes his lips over your forehead. “If only I knew you’re looking for someone like me to take care of you.”

Walkered (2): Revelation

Tags in reblog.

[clown-friend-gt]

Up, Up, and Away Chapter 14

No Future

1.7k words

Link to Masterpost

************************************************************************

Miranda tapped her pen idly while she waited for her client to arrive. This meeting had been postponed several times, so she was starting to get impatient. In order to get her plans in motion, she needed him to be on the same page as her.

She sat at a free table in the empty cafeteria. Distantly, she could hear the clattering of pans in the kitchen as the staff cleaned up from breakfast. It wasn’t completely secluded, but it was the best place she’d found at the prison to have meetings like this, at least when classes were in session.

Her attention was drawn by the sound of the double doors opening nearby. At first, it seemed to be a false alarm, as the only person who entered was a lone prison guard. Then she noticed that they were holding the door for her client, Trevor.

She’d never really thought about how difficult it must be for someone his size to fit through a doorway. He had to fold himself nearly in half to get his head underneath the doorframe. Then he stuck his arms through and braced them against the walls on either side. Finally, he pushed the rest of his body through the doorway with a grunt.

Thanks to the tall ceilings in the cafeteria, he was able to stand up straight. He breathed a sigh as stretched out his back. Then he turned to the guard at the door.

“Thanks,” he said to them. They nodded and left the room.

Trevor looked around the room for his counsellor. When they made eye contact, she waved him over. He approached slowly, but she didn’t seem as jumpy as she was the first time they’d met.

Miranda was a tall thin woman with brown skin and straight brown hair. At least, she seemed tall when in comparison to others. It was funny, before all this, when he was the shortest person in any given room, most people felt tall by comparison. Now it was the opposite, with even the tallest people around him only coming up to his waist.

“Take a seat,” Miranda prompted him, gesturing to the chair across the round table from her. She appeared to have had plenty of time to settle in; her folders and papers were strewn across the table already.

He went to grab the chair to move it out of the way. But then he froze when he made contact with it, remembering how badly this went the last time. He retracted his hand and tried to scoot it out of the way with his foot instead. It dragged awkwardly across the floor, then tipped over onto its side. But at least he didn’t accidentally toss it across the room again.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized as he sat down where the chair had been.

“It’s fine,” she said, shooting a glance at the fallen chair.

Then she turned her attention back to him, picking her pad of paper up off of the table and clicking the pen in her hand a few times.

“So, how have you been settling in?” she asked.

Trevor rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. Things were not going well for him, and she likely already knew it. He’d been in two fights in about a month. Neither of which were really his fault, but that he still got blamed for.

He thought about lying and saying that he was fine. But really, what good would that do?

“Not great,” he admitted.

She tilted her head. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He sighed heavily. “I just…want to be left alone. Serve my sentence in peace, you know?”

He looked down at his lap and fiddled with his hands. “But everywhere I turn, it seems like there’s always someone who has it out for me.”

Miranda nodded. “Any idea why that might be?”

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. “It’s like, anytime I walk out in that yard, some new person is just—offended by my presence, or something. And they always want to fight about it.”

“That sounds frustrating.”

“It is!” He ran a hand through his hair. “And there’s nothing I can ever do to stop them. I try to talk to them; they just get angrier. I try to walk away; they attack me from behind.

“It’s like they just don’t understand…” he shook his head sadly as he trailed off. “They might get seriously hurt if I touch them.”

He looked down at his hands. They were trembling slightly.

“I can’t control it…I can’t stop myself if—if,” his voice was quivering now too.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Miranda offering a sympathetic smile. He hadn’t noticed her getting up.

“Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

“…Okay,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

She walked around the table back to her seat. She picked up her pen and her notes again.

“Have you thought about what you might do when you get out?” she asked.

He cleared his throat to get his voice back to normal. “Not really.”

“Really? No thoughts about your future?”

He chuckled dryly. “I’m not sure I have one.”

She frowned. “Don’t be like that. Everyone’s got a future.”

“Yeah? Well mine’s looking pretty bleak.” He gestured down to himself. “Look at me. Even if I stopped growing tomorrow, I can’t live a normal life like this. And according to the doctor’s here, I’m not going to stop having these growth spurts any time soon. I’m just going to keep growing and growing until I finally turn into the monster I’m apparently supposed to be.”

“Hey,” she asserted. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not a monster.”

 “Oh yeah?” he scoffed. “Try telling that to everyone here. Everyone treats me like one.”

“People can be quick to judge based on appearances. You don’t have to take their opinions as fact.”

Trevor crossed his arms close to his chest. “What makes you think they’re wrong?”

“Because I’ve taken the time to talk to you. In all of the conversations we’ve had, you’ve only ever come across as a caring and sensitive young man.”

She indicated the fallen chair with her pen. “Maybe a little clumsy at times, but that hardly makes you a monster.”

Trevor was silent, unsure how to respond. Miranda continued.

“Look, the reason I bring up your future is because I think you have more options than you realize.”

She rifled around in her folder, then took out a pamphlet and slid it across the table to him. He picked it up and examined it. It was a brochure for the Future Heroes Training Program.

“I think it’s a little late for this,” he said weakly, setting it back down.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because I’m a criminal now. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t want someone like me in their program.”

“Don’t be so sure. You wouldn’t be the first superhero who started out here.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”

She nodded. “Wildfire got his start in corrective custody. There is a track you could take that would set you up to start in the program after you’re released.”

“It can’t possibly be that easy.”

“I didn’t say it was. You’d have to prove that you’re a good candidate, first. They only look at inmates with a good academic and disciplinary record.”

His shoulders slumped. “Then I think I’m disqualified on both of those counts.”

“Your record doesn’t have to be perfect. As long as you show improvement, I think we can make a strong enough case for you.”

Trevor mulled it over for a few moments, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I still don’t think being a superhero is for me.”

“You said you were struggling with control, didn’t you? If anyone can help you with that, it’s these guys,” she said, tapping the brochure again.

He gave the pamphlet another look. “Do you really think they can help me?”

She offered him a small smile. “I’m sure of it.”

Trevor was silent for a little while longer. Then he breathed a small sigh.

“Fine. How do I get started?”

Miranda’s smile widened. “That’s the spirit.”

The door to the cafeteria opened again. They both turned to see the same guard as before had entered.

“Castillo. Time to head back to class.”

Trevor looked back at Miranda for confirmation.

“Go ahead. You can start by getting invested in your studies.” She waved him off.

He stood and gave her a small smile, though it looked more worried than anything. “I’ll try.”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way. You can do this,” she assured him.

“Come on, Castillo,” the guard urged.

“I’m coming,” he replied. But before he walked away from the table, he bent down and grabbed the pamphlet for the FHTP. Then he waved to Miranda and left with the guard.

Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. She really hoped that this worked out for Trevor. She hated to admit it, but she wasn’t really sure how to help him otherwise.

Her phone ringing knocked her out of her thoughts. She looked down at her phone to see that her friend Sam was calling her.

She looked around. She wasn’t supposed to answer personal calls during work hours. Then again, she had some time before she had to be at her next appointment. No one else was around.

She pressed the button to answer the call. “Hey, Sam, what’s up?”

“Miranda, hey!” came the voice on the other end. “I just got off work, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

“Oh?” she said, slightly amused. “Anything interesting?”

Sam laughed. He had a kind of booming laugh that made her hold the phone away from her ear. “Nothing really worth talking about.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“So what have you been up to?”

Miranda’s eyes lit up. She might have a good reason for taking this call at work after all.

“I actually just finished a meeting with a client. Do you remember the kid I was telling you about the other day?”

“Your newest candidate for the program?” She thought she might have heard a slight edge to his voice. She paid it no mind; he’d surely come around eventually.         

“That’s the one. You might get a chance to meet him after all.”

First/Last/Next

[zzzallnite]

Royal Stallions

(Please enjoy this for the time being for I'm working on new some comic drawings; and sorry for the blur - otherwise Tumblr will flag the post)

"Prince Robert, Sir! Please slow down, you are not wearing your helmet!..." cried Mr. Hank Steward, Prince Robert's personal valet. For almost fifteen years he has been taking care of the young Prince, although, as the third brother in the family, he is still long down the line for the crown. Being pampered his whole life, the twenty-year-old Prince is rather rebellious, and often give the royal family a hard time keeping him in check. It appears that, out of all of the staff, Mr. Steward is the only person he listens to, and therefore, he was assigned with the task of keeping an eye on Robert.

Today, they were out for the weekly polo training session, but only Robert and Mr. Steward, because their instructor had been calling in sick, and both men were, at this point, quite confident in their ability on horseback. The men used this opportunity to explore the area around the palace - covered by tall woods and large meadows. As the reckless young man as he usually was, Robert was fast ahead; the adrenaline kicked in and he couldn't stop. And this proved to have grave consequence...

After a minute or so, he stopped hearing Mr. Steward's voice. Robert knew that Steward was a more experienced rider, and the fact that the man was left far behind gave him an uneasy feeling. Robert turned the horse around and he quickly spotted Mr. Steward from a distance - not on the horseback, but on the ground. And Mr. Steward's mare could be seen running back the dirt road, and the clopping echo made by its hooves slowly quietened, replaced by the sound of bird chirping in the green foliage.

Robert quickly rushed toward Mr. Steward, who was lying motionless on the ground. The Prince hopped over to the injured man's side; he noticed a massive goose egg on the left side of the ginger man's forehead, where a small droplet of blood ran down his temple, along his hairline. It seemed that the man hit his head as he fell down the horse and was stunned.

"Hank, Mate! You alright?" Robert tried to revive Steward, but the man's eyelids just flickered as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he passed out. Robert leaned closer to his servant's face, hoping to catch a glimpse of vital sign. The young man let out a sigh of relief as he heard a faint grunt coming out of Steward. He proceeded to remove the man's constricting tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt, allowing easier breathing. As the collar slowly opened, the Prince was mesmerised by the mature man's auburn chest hair, and the mixture of sweat and cologne scent was almost... intoxicating. The next thing Robert knew was that his tongue softly pecked on the man's lips, and slowly found its way inside the unconscious fox's mouth...

The young Prince had always had a crush on Mr. Steward. Hank Steward had been with him for many years since his pre-adolescence. He saw him as his own father figure, who teaching him everything about royal manner, how to dress, how to behave, who's who..., while his own father was too busy with the duty, that he forgot to be a dad... Deep down, Robert knew that this hole in his heart was the reason why he's attracted to mature male figures in his life.

The Prince leered down to Mr. Steward's feet and was completely captivated by the brown riding boots hugged tightly to the man's calves. Robert remembered that, earlier today, I had seen Steward sporting a pair of black OTC socks for the occasion, as he was peeking at the ginger stallion while he was changing. Robert often fantasised about sniffing the royal valet's boots and socked feet when they were still warm, but the thought of how hard it would take to remove those boots might awake the man, and he did not want Steward to regain consciousness too soon...He wanted this very moment to last a little longer, because it was really a rarity that he had the chance to appreciate Mr. Steward's masculine beauty... So he kneeled above the downed man, pretending to be triumphal over his opponent in an imaginary wrestling match - one that Robert had always daydreamed about, but too afraid to do... Seeing Steward down and vulnerable oddly aroused him, and he started to feel the pressure growing in his crotch area, but the tight breeches was holding it back like a dam about to break... He had no choice but...

Too preoccupied by his fantasy, Prince Robert didn't notice the footsteps coming toward his direction. Suddenly a sharp pain exploded on the stud's back of the head. After twenty years of pampered lifestyle, the young Prince quickly succumbed to the force crashed upon his cranium. Everything immediately turned pitch black as he collapsed on the moist grass...

Three men stood above Robert's unconscious body. One of them was holding a pistol by the barrel and used it as a club to render the unsuspected Prince senseless. The other two rushed over and check their target's vitals. They had this kidnapping scheme all planned out, by spooking out the royal valet's horse and got him injured - a perfect lure for the concerned Prince. And it worked.

"He's unconscious, but alive" said one of the goons, while the other caressed the Prince's back over his sweaty polo shirt, then slowly moved down to the young man's buttock and thigh area, which was hugged tightly by a tan breeches. The anxious, lanky kidnapper then started squeezing the sleeping Prince's black boots; licking his lips, he was wondering what kind of high-end equestrian socks were hiding underneath these royal leather footwears...

The kidnappers soon turned their attention to the other man who they had used as a bait to lure the prince to their trap. They immediately noticed that the ginger man's cock is out of his breeches, cover with some kind of fluid, which was also all over his abdomen area.

"So, the Prince is a freak, heh? Ha ha ha, bet a hundred pounds that he is a closeted one too!", laughed the bald goon as he checked Hank's pupils. His green eyes showed reaction to the light, but the poor manservant remained unconscious. When Mr. Steward woke up this morning, he didn't expect to lose all his dignity this way, taken advantage by the one royal Prince, and now he became the laughing stock for these three low-life scumbags as well. The only solace was that he's completely unaware of the current situation...

"Told you so!" When the kidnappers rolled Robert over, his private part was out of his breeches and slowly shrunk from a throbbing one to a floppy, uncut dick. A strand of pre-cum was dripping out of the slit. It was hard to tell whose semen is whose; did the Prince manage to empty his load on the sleeping man before he got hit over the head himself, or was the foxy valet able to ejaculate even during his unconscious state? Maybe both, who knows? But right now, the abductors' concern was to get out of there as fast as possible.

"Should we take the boy only? I mean, the other is not in our plan...", asked the lanky goon, while holding the Prince's penis in his hand, gently stroking it. "Take the both, and their horses," said the ringleader, "We leave no trace behind. Besides, I have another plan for the other one..." He glanced over the ginger man's cock limping over his damp dress shirt as he was carried away and loaded on a truck parked not far away from there, side by side with the out cold Prince. The ringleader smirked as the vehicle took off toward the sunset, with many dirty thoughts swarming his mind...