#considering i recalled all of these off the top of my head

[stillgotscars]

i don’t know why all the trees change in the fall. now i know why all the trees change in the fall. realized i loved you in the fall. like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lose it all. autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place, and i can picture it after all these days. windows flung right open, autumn air, jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours. the autumn chill that wakes me up, you loved the amber skies so much.

[alinathinkstoomuch]

Light Blue Shirt

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader summary: hotch's dad bod has been driving you crazy and it only gets worse when he pulls out your favourite light blue shirt that you hid from him. warnings: suggestive content, established relationship, hotch is a menace (when is it my turn!!!?!?), i have unintentionally made hotch seem like a lover of doggy style uhmm.. sorry promise next fic we will delve into some new positions word count: 1.7k ✧ masterlist

i will be making my way through tate’s new album and what about it!

Mornings with Aaron were always a bit of a blur — half-asleep kisses, shared coffee, the distant sound of Jack’s cartoons playing in the background. But this morning? This morning, you were wide awake.

And considering you weren’t much of a morning person, that was really saying something.

It had started out like any other, with Aaron stepping out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips as he rifled through the closet. Normally, you’d be groggy, scrolling aimlessly through your phone (doom-scrolling, as Aaron liked to scold you for it), still half-buried in the warmth of the covers.

But today? Today, your blood ran cold the moment you saw it.

The light blue shirt.

You had hidden that damn thing. You knew you had. Tucked it away in the spare closet under the guise of out of sight, out of mind because every time he wore it, you lost yours.

The way it stretched across his broad shoulders, how the top buttons always strained just a little too much, teasing a glimpse of his collarbones, and — oh God —the way the fabric draped over his stomach, soft but firm, inviting. That shirt was dangerous. Like super, totally, jail-worthy dangerous.

And yet, there it was, sliding over his arms, his fingers expertly buttoning it up as if he didn’t just pull a landmine of temptation out of nowhere.

You gawked. Actually gawked. Your mouth had parted, your phone frozen in your hand, every thought in your brain screeching to a halt as you watched him tuck the shirt into his slacks.

“Everything okay, angel?”

You scrambled to collect yourself. “Of course. Yeah. Absolutely,” you blurted, slapping your phone onto the nightstand and tossing the covers off like it was a totally normal morning and not an active test of your self-restraint.

Hotch turned slightly, adjusting his cufflinks, and good lord, even his wrists were attractive.

“You’re, uhm… planning to wear that shirt? At the office? All day?”

He paused mid-adjustment, brow furrowing. “That is generally the purpose of a shirt, isn’t it, honey?”

Smug. So smug.

You hummed, pointedly ignoring him as you threw yourself into making the bed at a record-breaking speed, chucking the pillows in no particular order.

You could feel his gaze, lingering on you like the press of fingertips against skin.

“You know,” he mused, voice far too casual for someone who was undoubtedly laying a trap, “it was very odd that I had to look in the spare closet for this shirt.” A brief pause. “I don’t recall putting it there.”

You swallowed, schooling your expression before turning to face him, feigning innocence like your life depended on it. “Weird,” you said, voice a little too high-pitched. “That’s so weird.”

“Almost like someone put it there on purpose.”

You exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, that’s ridiculous.”

He stepped closer. “Is it?”

His scent — warm cedar and clean linen — was a little too close, seeping into your lungs, threading itself through your ribs like it belonged there. Your eyes dropped, completely on accident, tracing the lines of his shoulders, the way that stupid shirt pulled over ever so slightly across his chest, the curve of his stomach, the fabric fitting too well in all the wrong ways.

You regretted it instantly. This was exactly why the shirt had been banned. It was not even eight in the morning, and your thoughts had already derailed into places they had no business existing before coffee — or at all, really, if you wanted to maintain even a shred of decorum.

“Did you hear that?” You pointed vaguely toward the hallway. “I think Jack’s calling for me.”

Hotch didn’t even pretend to fall for it. He didn’t turn his head, didn’t so much as glance toward the door. He simply stood there, completely unmoved, because he had long since mastered the art of seeing through your bullshit. “Jack’s at the table eating cereal.”

“Okay, well,” you huffed, crossing your arms in a weak attempt at composure, “maybe he needs more cereal.”

Aaron took another step closer, erasing the space between you like it had never existed in the first place. His hands found your hips, smoothing over the curve of your waist before settling firmly on your ass.

“I think Jack’s fine.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. Thoughts came and went, none of them appropriate for the hour, let alone for a house with a child in it.

“Just admit it, angel. You hid the shirt didn’t you?”

“I did no suc–” The words slipped off your tongue, landing somewhere on the floor when you felt his fingers flex, squeezing just enough to make you forget what you were even trying to defend in the first place.

His hands pressed you even closer to him, stealing the last bit of space you had left. “What was that, my sweet angel?”

Your dignity. That’s what you were trying to defend.

You swallowed, blinking hard, trying to reboot your entire system. “I—”

“I didn’t quite catch that,” he interrupted, his voice far too amused at your expense. “You were saying?”

You were saying something. You were definitely saying something.

“I need coffee,” you managed, the words rushed. “Lots of it.”

Before he could stop you — before you could stop you — you pushed away, slipping past him with all the grace of someone pretending they hadn’t just lost.

As you reached the door, his voice followed.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

You spun halfway, your eyes all glares and daggers.

“No, you will not be.”

With that, you took the stairs two at a time, eager to put some much-needed distance between you and the absolute menace you called your boyfriend.

Downstairs, Jack was already finished with his cereal, swinging his legs idly under the table as he drained the last of his juice. A quick glance at the clock told you Jessica would be here any second, and sure enough, a soft knock at the door signalled her arrival.

Perfect timing.

You moved to help Jack with his backpack, giving yourself the illusion normalcy. And just as you thought you had successfully dodged whatever antics Aaron had planned next, you heard his familiar footsteps behind you.

Because of course he wasn’t done with you.

You turned, fully expecting him to be put together — tie knotted, suit jacket in place. But no, none of those things had happened. And you knew it was on purpose. Because normally by now he’d be ready to walk out the door, every detail in place. But instead, he stood there deliberately unpolished. And worse? He was lingering.

He met your gaze briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching before he turned his attention to Jack, ruffling his hair as he crouched to say goodbye.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your fingers into your temples as you moved toward the kettle. But the second you heard the door click shut, your spoon wavered mid-air and the coffee slipped through your fingers.

Dark grains scattered across the counter, a mess spreading over the surface like a visual representation of your crumbling self-control. You sucked in a sharp breath, blinking down at the spill as if it had personally betrayed you.

You reached for the paper towels, determined to fix something—but before your fingers could grasp them, a hand beat you to it.

“I got you,” Aaron murmured, just as you hesitated, your retreating fingers gripping the edge of the counter instead, bracing yourself against something far stronger than frustration.

Because he wasn’t lying when he said he’d be right behind you.

He was.

Pressed flush against your back, entirely there, his body moulding into yours as though he had been built to fit against you. He calmly swept up the coffee grounds into his palm, leaving you with no room to do anything but feel him there.

You could take this to HR.

You could really get him into some trouble.

“Aaron.”

He hummed slowly, like he had all the time in the world. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“The sugar,” you managed, and it sounded pathetic, like a plea for something entirely different.

“Of course.”

His warmth retreated as he reached into the cupboard for the pink ceramic sugar jar — the one you’d insisted on buying when you unofficially moved in.

Aaron never took sugar in anything. If it were up to him, he’d leave it in the paper bags it came in, neatly folded over with a clip, untouched and forgotten. But you?

Sugar went everywhere.

Between the constant spills, the half-open bags, and the tiny grains mysteriously appearing in places they shouldn’t, you had deemed it completely justifiable to buy the overpriced but pretty container.

And despite his grumbling at the time, he never moved it from your designated spot.

Now, he pulled it from the cupboard, holding it with an air of innocence as he turned back to you.

But there was nothing innocent about the man standing in front of you right now.

You reached for it, but just as your fingers brushed the ceramic, he pulled it back.

Your eyes snapped to his, irritation flaring instantly.

“Why don’t you want me to wear this shirt?”

You groaned, dropping your head back. “Seriously? You’re denying me sugar and blackmailing me with it?”

Aaron’s eyes dragged down your body before his lips parted. “Well,” he began, “I get my sweetness from somewhere else.”

Your entire body locked up.

“Looks like you will too,” he added, holding the sugar just out of reach, “until you learn to be honest.”

You almost slammed your forehead into the cupboard behind you because oh my God.

For a full three seconds, you just stared at him, at the absolute audacity written all over his face, at the way he stood there, completely composed, smirking at you like he hadn’t just said the most heinous thing imaginable before denying you coffee.

And for what? A shirt?

“Great heavens, Aaron, it’s a stupid shirt,” you huffed, throwing your hands in the air. “Fine. Wear it. Wear it to work, wear it to meetings, wear it to court—hell, wear it to bed for all I care.”

His smirk deepened.

“Is that an official request?”

You jaw dropped, your hand flying to swat at his chest but he barely flinched.

“Or,” he continued, catching your wrist far too easily, “how about I compromise?”

Your brow lifted, suspicion creeping in.

His fingers traced idly over the inside of your wrist. “How about,” he murmured, pressing a kiss just above your pulse. “I wear it now — and you don’t have to admit what you did…”

You inhaled, a warning brewing on your lips but then —

“All you need to do,” he finished, his voice deceptively soft, “is just bend over the counter for me.”

[asidian]

This post was originally made with still images, but the extremely kind @thecaseofcas offered to make gifs for me. So without further ado, a body language post, now with motion! ✨

I want to point out a little character body language tell that Charles has that I think has flown largely under the radar. Every time he's gearing himself up for something he thinks is going to be difficult, he does the cutest tiny double-bounce.

He does it in Esther's house, while Edwin's getting ready to go into the cabinet.

Depending on how you interpret the scene, he's either gearing himself up for a potentially dangerous situation or (let's be real) psyching himself up for the temptation of watching Edwin strip his jacket off. (We see you, Charles.)

He does it near the end of episode two, talking to Crystal by the window.

He's just gotten a look into her heartbreaking issues regarding not being wanted and having nowhere to belong, and he's heading into what he expects is a fraught conversation, trying to talk her up into knowing that he, at least, appreciates her.

He does it when he steps forward to address the washer woman.

He knows the stakes here are high; people might be killed in the hundreds, and this is their chance to get the information they need to stop it.

He does it just before he lobs the Molotov cocktail at the doll-spider.

This is the one of the highest stakes we see all season; this is Charles gearing up for what he likely considers to be the most important moment of his afterlife. If he doesn't get this right, he's condemning Edwin to an eternity of torture.

And he does it again when the doll-spider reappears on the stairway, just before the final dash for the doorway at the top.

Again, the stakes couldn't be higher; he knows very well they've got to make this happen, or the consequences are unthinkable.

There are likely more instances throughout the season; these are just the times I recall off the top of my head.

But more importantly than any of these, it's really telling that Charles still does this while he's in disguise.

It shows up in the very first episode, when they go to speak to Becky's parents about her disappearance.

Here, too, he's gearing himself up to handle something he knows will be difficult. It's going to be an emotional conversation, and it's desperately important that they have it so that Crystal can get the information they need.

But this is a different actor. That means that this is such a significant character tell that they prompted the actor who plays disguise!Charles to use it, in much the same way that disguise!Edwin keeps his hand mannerisms. It's not the actor's body language. It doesn't seem to be something Jayden Revri does in interviews. It's something he's decided on for the character, a deliberate acting choice.

It's very much intentional, and it appears again and again, throughout the series.

I don't know that I had a point, here. I just wanted to appreciate the fact that this boy psychs himself up when he thinks things are about to get rough, and that he has such a charming way of doing it.

[trivia-yandere]

tape

before leaving for college jungkook doesn't know when he'll see you again after this week and wants something to remember you by… @mother2monsters @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom @yoongiwantsme @chimmisbae @whipwhoops @prettyxxxplease

word count: 1.969

warning: car sex, pseudo incest, oral sex, smut, dirty talking, protected/unprotected sex, coercion, handjob, manipulation, creampie, video taping, dub-con,

series masterlist | part one | part three

“You don’t have to record everything.” you say, panting. Your eyes, glossy and full of tears, glance up at Jungkook who’s heaving. “You have enough content.”

Jungkook blinks his eyes a bit to look at you - cheeks puffy, eyes glossy and lips wet with saliva. Your hand softly strokes his cock as you await your answer. 

“Of course I do.” Jungkook responds. He places his hand on top of your head, glancing up at the camera shining directly at the two of you. “Who knows when we’ll be doing this next.”

Jungkook loved taking pictures of you - he made it a routine. It was easier, of course, because you were his (step) sister. He took pictures of you randomly around the house, sometimes some of you and him together. At school when the two of you were together, he’d snap some pictures and it was never considered weird because you were his sister.

Some pictures were just for Jungkook’s eyes only - the ones where he would sneak up on you in the shower or the pictures he would capture while you were beneath him. You allowed him to take pictures of your naked body because he promised it was just for him to see - and it was kept privately hidden deep in his phone that only he had the access to.

Jungkook wanted something to remember you by - something that he could look back on. It wasn’t like you had an illness that was so incurable that you’d die - or that he was going off to war to never see you again. You and he were both going to college; separate ones. 

And as months went by and graduation had come and gone, he knew he only had a limited amount of time with you.

Jungkook wanted more and more pictures and videos of you - whatever he could get. He took every chance he got to shine his camera in your face especially while you were so fucked out and moaning his name desperately. 

Tonight was no different. This was going to be your last night with Jungkook and then you’d be on your way off to prepare for your college move-in day and soon, he’d do the same. 

You snicker. “We won’t be doing this again.” you say, feeling his lips kiss on your neck. “I’m going to college and so are you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Jungkook murmurs. He’s glad that you’ve already discarded your shorts long ago - all he had to do was push your panties aside or rip them off (whichever was easier). “You’re only a three hour drive away.”

“Driving three hours away for pussy is insane.” you respond, feeling Jungkook’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass. Your tongue swirls on the tip of his cock, eyebrows raising.

“Allowing me to fuck you in my car in the middle of an empty parking lot is also insane.” Jungkook retorts with a sudden chuckle. He licks his lips as he watches you. “Allowing me to fuck you at all is insane…yet we do it.”

You roll your eyes but even you could agree with Jungkook. You had allowed him to get away with a lot - taking your virginity months prior was one of them; allowing him to continue to fuck you was another. 

But you told yourself that this was just something you were going to do for now and take to your grave - as would Jungkook. 

You don’t respond and instead decide it was better to continue your sucking. You take Jungkook back fully into your mouth.

You recall the first time you’ve done this and how horribly it was. But that didn’t make you stop - you were determined to know how to do so before college and Jungkook was the perfect candidate. “Add a little pressure to it…” Jungkook had said, wrapping his own hand around yours to guide you. He then begins to guide your closed fist up and down onto his cock. “You don’t have to go too fast, but anything slower than this is a bore…” he instructs, eyelids watching you as you get the hang of how exactly he wanted you to jack him.

Jungkook adored having to teach you how to pleasure him - you were such a curious person and naturally, like him, always strived to be better. It was a matter of time until you knew exactly what to do with your hands and mouth to get his toes curling and his legs shaking.

You bring Jungkook out of your mouth to pump him a bit - your touch was his favorite. Your hands are always soft and gentle, even when you wrap them firmly around his cock. Your tongue circles the tip of his cock, eyes watching his every reaction. You run your tongue over the swollen head, passing his slit with each lick. You enjoyed watching Jungkook become the submissive one who depended on you for pleasure - thighs shaking, mouth agape and releasing such filthy moans. 

There’s a salty taste on your tongue and you know it’s precum instantly. 

“You’re teasing me.” Jungkook grumbles, gripping your hair slightly. 

“We have all night.” you say, muffled. “What’s the rush?”

“I want to fuck you now.” Jungkook responds, voice deep and pleading. “We have to be home in an hour anyways. You know how dad is.”

You release the tip and watch his cock spring back, pre-cum and saliva dripping from it. “Fine.” you tell Jungkook, already lifting from your position to sit in his lap. “Where’s the condom?”

Jungkook always came prepared, going through his pockets to remove the small, golden square package. He hastily rips it open and discards the package lazily beside him. You’re hovering above him, waiting for him to put the condom on.

“Okay.” Jungkook places his hands upon your hips, guiding you down towards his cock. 

You release a low sigh when Jungkook enters you fully, your walls automatically clenching around him. Even with the amount of times the two of you had fucked, you could never become accustomed to him inside of you.

Jungkook, however, is inpatient. He wastes no time in placing his hand beneath your thighs and thrusting upwards. He assures you’re in line of vision with the camera - he needed good material masturbation while you were away.

Jungkook is a greedy person, he wants all of you. As he continues his thrusting inside of you, your breast bounces in his face, the tank top not being able to hold them any longer. As your breast spills out, Jungkook takes the opportunity to pop a nipple into his mouth.

“You’re so deep…” you moan, your nails digging into Jungkook’s shoulders for support. His breathing increases, his tongue suckling on your nipples needily and his hands go to grip your ass.

Jungkook pushes you away slightly, you now lean between the passenger and driver seats. Jungkook groans as he watches you - so fucked out and full of lust. He begins to thrust, his hand against your stomach for support.

“Your pussy’s so wet, Y/N.” Jungkook scoffs, eyes glancing at how good you were milking him; it’s almost a shame he wore a condom. He couldn’t imagine how heavenly you felt bare. “It’s because you love me that it’s like this.”

Jungkook loves touching your bare skin and his hands never settle on anything for long. He grips your breast as he fucks into you, he holds your neck, your waist - whatever. Now, his hands trails down slowly, thumb pressing firmly against your clit. 

Jungkook hisses, “So, so, wet.” he twirls his thumb against your clit, only fucking into you deeper. “Aren’t you going to miss me, Y/N? You’ll be going to college and sex would never be the same with anyone else.”

Maybe Jungkook was selfish, he’s admitting to it. But he could never fathom anyone else having you in these positions - no other man getting to have their face between your legs or getting to touch the soft, gentle skin of your body. Another guy didn’t deserve to feel how wet and tight you were, or hear your soft, sweet moans.

You yelp when you feel a hand around your neck - and it causes you to clench even tighter around Jungkook. He was angered now at just the thought of you leaving him and allowing someone else to do what he could do to you with such love and care. 

“You’re such a whore, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts, pounding into you angrily. Your moans increase, along with the squelching of your pussy. “How many guys are you planning on fucking?”

Jungkook’s grip on your neck grows tighter at your response. “However many I feel like.”

You loved teasing Jungkook ever since the pair of you were children. He rarely gave you a reaction until now and you were going to milk it. 

“So does anyone get to feel your pussy?” Jungkook snarls, releasing your neck to hoist you back up. Your arms are holding the passenger seat for support. “I always knew you’d grow up to be a bitch.”

Jungkook’s insult don’t faze you, maybe because he was fucking you entirely too well. You have no control whatsoever and Jungkook has it all. He thrusts roughly inside of you, dark eyes shining in lust and anger; jealousy. His hands roam your body, gripping your breast and suckling your nipples. He bites along your neck and shoulders, hands gripping and slapping your skin.

There’s a kiss pressed firmly against your lips; deep and full of greed. Even now, Jungkook cannot fathom to think about someone else kissing your lips and it angers him to know that it’s something you’re going to allow.

“I want to cum inside of you.” Jungkook releases your lips and pushes you off of him. 

You stumble in the backseat, eyes widening at his request. 

“You can’t-”

“Why not?” Jungkook is already pulling the condom off of him. “It’s not fair you wouldn’t let me. I love you.”

Jungkook discards the condom out of the car carelessly. “Don’t you love me?” Jungkook asks with a tilt of his head. “If you’re going to have sex in college, I should at least be the first one to feel you bare.”

Jungkook hovers above you, wrapping you in an embrace. Your back is towards him and his hand dips between your legs to rub along your clit. Your mind is hazy and you don’t realize that Jungkook is already inching inside of you.

“Your pussy feels so good, Y/N. You love me, right? You’d let me…” Jungkook trails off, entering deeper inside of you. His body shudders at the new feeling that the condom wasn’t allowing him to endure. 

Jungkook begins to thrust, his twirling of your clit never ceasing. Your walls tighten around him heavenly that he never wants this to end. If he could fuck into you like this - raw - the entire night, he would. It’s something he deserved - he was the only person who would ever truly love you.

“Doesn’t it feel good, Y/N?” Jungkook murmurs against your ear.

You nod your head hastily. The feeling is new; better. You never felt Jungkook’s bare skin inside of you and now with direct skin to skin, the euphoric sensation increases tremendously. 

Jungkook isn’t going to last long - not when there’s mountains of senses going through him. “Come,” he murmurs against your ear.

You turn your head to face Jungkook and instantly, he presses his lips against yours. His thrusts are sloppy and he’s determined to make you cum alongside him, rubbing along your clit hastily until he feels you trembling beneath him.

Jungkook never came so hard in his life. He’s twitching inside of you, cum reaching deep and even then, the pair of you never cease from kissing.

series masterlist

[scvrgrl]

my heart belongs to you | portgas d. ace x fem!reader

Throughout the entire night, it had been Ace's suave advances toward you that allowed you to fall at his feet. But right now, in the dim light of your desk lamp, you decided to take control — wanting him to crumble and beg from inside you.

word count: 9.2k

cw/tags: fem!reader, x reader, college/modern!au, drinking/getting drunk, slight tw for sexual harassment, smut!!, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader receiving), backshots (reader receiving), missionary sex, and other things I probably forgot, if there's grammar errors no there isn't, MDNI pls!!

“But why nottttt?”

It’s nine PM on a Friday night and your lively red-headed roommate is, yet again, attempting to drag you out from the warmth of your fluffy sheets. Nami fixes herself in the mirror, running her gold hoops through the healed tissue of her delicate ears. She was dressed in a noisy costume that resembled a belly dancer, her purple/blue skirt jingling as if to announce every movement. She’d mentioned a party with an “Arabian Nights” theme. What’s a PWI without a little cultural appropriation?

“‘Cause I’ve just spent my entire day studying for my chem midterm that’s in a week! I can’t afford to fail this one or I swear I’m gonna drop out,” you responded, hands covering your face with an exasperated sigh. It was times like these where you seriously regretted declaring a STEM major. 

“Oh come on! You trap yourself in this dorm all day, [y/n]. Why don’t you just let loose for one night? I promise you it’ll be fun!” 

Nami’s big, warm eyes tempted you for a moment. Getting your mind to focus on literally anything other than the impending exam enticed you. What’s the harm in blowing off a bit of steam?  

“I don’t even have anything to-” 

Before you could even complete that sentence, Nami raises a nearly identical outfit to the one on her body. Her teasing smirk revealed that she had gotten what she wanted. After all, it was hard saying no to her. You let out a frustrated sigh, “I hate you.” 

…

You stared at your exposed chest in the mirror, overanalyzing the way the thin, almost see-through fabric hugged your waist. There was extra room surrounding your chest, which made sense considering the top was meant to fit your blessed friend just right. You’ve never been the most secure person, body issues being your number one enemy. Comparison is the thief of joy, they say. However, no matter which way you poked and prodded at your dismal appearance, Nami never failed to boost your confidence. 

“You’re stunning!” she exclaimed, taking your hand and twirling you around. This playful gesture was rewarded with a soft smile from your lips. “Seriously, these guys are gonna be all over you.” 

“I’m not sure if I want that,” you chuckled, your laughter trailing off into a shy smile. Your hands instinctively wrapped around your exposed stomach, hugging yourself to accessorize the foreign look with a familiar feeling. 

Nami collected her things, disregarding your last comment, almost as if she was purposely ignoring you. “As long as we have fun, it’ll be a good night. Now, let’s go before the guys change their mind! Luffy and the others are already downstairs, probably looking like creeps waiting for someone to key them in.” 

You gave Nami a hearty laugh, recalling the last time you’d gone out. A tipsy Luffy and high Usopp trying to convince residents to let them enter your building after a small pregame had been a recipe for disaster. They made sure to let you know how many times they’d been met with “hell no”-’s and weird stares. Eventually, Zoro was able to coax someone into letting only him in, which hadn’t been hard since many of the girls favored the captain of the school’s ice hockey team. 

…

Arriving at the party had been enough of an adventure to make you want to crawl back in bed. The chill of the early October air prickled your skin, foreshadowing the “Bikinis and Beanies” season that was upcoming for every frat to exploit. The catcalling and wandering eyes that followed your every move is what really sent chills down your spine. You’d never been perceived so much at once that it was becoming overwhelming. Sanji, the observant gentleman he is, caught on to your discomfort, “Something the matter, princess?” 

His unrelenting corny nicknames had earned their fair share of grievances over the last few months, so much so that you’ve learned to completely ignore them overall.

 “Nuh uh, just cold. Thanks though,” you gave him a soft smile, despite the fact that you really just wanted to go back to your dorm. When you’d turn back around, he made sure to glare menacingly at the groups of men who made you feel uncomfortable. Only I’m allowed to bother these girls, he thought to himself. 

After weaving through multiple sweaty bodies, bumping into not-so-friendly women (and men), and risking your feet getting crushed under the weight of the crowd, you guys had finally made your way in. Thanks to Zoro and Luffy’s street cred, passing through “security” had been a breeze. A quick dap-up and head nod from the pair was enough to let your group of seven pass through smoothly. It wasn’t long before the crew dispersed – you, Nami, and Robin making your way to the drinks (with Sanji following close behind, of course); Luffy and Usopp spotting some friends in a nearby corner; and Zoro bee-lining to the back of the party to partake in his usual wallflower activities, surveying the area in case something went down. A brief pang of sadness struck your heart as you watched Zoro’s back move in silence. The small ember of feelings lingered from your unrequited crush. You’d never dare tell him about your feelings though, secretly hoping that they would subside to avoid conflict within the group. 

You turned back to your girlfriends, a red solo cup already meeting your gaze. Nami gives you a knowing smirk, “Looks like you’re gonna need this.”

Nami and Robin had known about your crush for quite some time, for they were the only members of your group to be trusting enough not to tell Zoro. You gladly accepted the mystery beverage, I’ll figure out what’s in it sooner or later. As the cup met your lips, your tongue was greeted with a sweet and sour flavor, accompanied by a burning sensation down your throat. Your brows furrowed instinctively, wincing at the horrid flavor, but gradually accepted the drink into your mouth. You’d always hated the process of getting drunk, but it was always worth it when you’d leave the party a giggly (and flirty) mess. 

“How is it?” Robin queried, although she already knew the answer based on your initial reaction. 

“Oh it’s terrible,” you stated bluntly, followed by a giggle from each of you. “But I know it’ll be worth it so what’s the harm?”

Little did you know, the “harm” would arrive later, a consequence of your drunken attempt to clear your mind from the yearning. 

… 

It was well into the night, music still blasting from every direction and no sign of the party dying down. Luffy had spotted a familiar face in the crowd of sweaty, gyrating bodies on his way to the bathroom (or at least he hoped he had, the alcohol made his vision a bit wobbly). 

“That you, Ace??” he shouted, gaining the attention of the muscular man. He wore long black shorts with a red scarf tied around his waistband. His shaggy black hair fit snugly under an orange cap, small beads of sweat allowing some of its strands to stick to his forehead just right. It wasn’t until Luffy could make out the constellation of freckles on his rosy cheeks and the thick tattoo down his arm that read “ASCE”, that he could officially identify his older brother.  

“Luffy!” the man beamed. “What’s up? I didn’t know you’d be here! Hey guys, this is my little brother, Luffy!” 

Ace wasn’t your typical “older brother”. Despite being three years older than him, Ace had never been ashamed or embarrassed of Luffy, but rather, embraced him proudly whenever he came around. It was the other way around, really, Ace always meddling into Luffy’s business and Luffy pushing him away. Which is why when Ace pulled him into a headlock, ruffling up his brother’s hair, Luffy pleaded to be set free, “Oh c’mon Ace! Let me go already!” 

Ace’s booming belly laughter combined with Luffy’s grunts and giggles attracted the attention of people around them, including your group. It’s not everyday you see a guy and his bungling kid brother tussle at a frat party. 

“Is that…Luffy?” Robin asked, her slender fingers pointing in the direction past your left shoulder. You turned around, immediately laying eyes on the scene of flailing arms and legs. The shorter, more lean figure uttered something loud and obnoxious, you presume. However, you missed it entirely, as your focus was set on the big, sculpted bicep that held your friend in place. 

“...and Ace, I guess,” Nami added, her voice tinged with annoyance, bothered that they had begun to cause such a scene. 

“Wait, that’s Ace??” 

Luffy had mentioned his older brothers Ace and Sabo before, but failed to acknowledge that one of those boys was incredibly beautiful. Then, as if he had heard your inner thoughts, the young man lifted his head, meeting your gaze from across the room. His strikingly dark eyes burned a hole right through yours, filling your entire body up with a familiar kind of electricity you’ve only felt once before. You felt your cheeks flush instantly, turning back around swiftly to avoid eye contact any longer. So much for “liquid courage,” you thought to yourself. Your bashful reaction made the man smile, releasing his brother and slinging an arm around Luffy’s shoulders, guiding him through the sea of people to approach your group. Anxiety flowed through your entire nervous system as you heard large footsteps advancing toward you. 

“Hello ladies,” Ace greeted, his voice deeper and mellow compared to the enthusiasm that filled it moments ago. 

Nami scoffed, Was he trying to make himself sound cooler? “What brings you here, Ace?” 

“Oh c’mon Nami, you know my school is socially dead. It’s community college – everyone goes to class then gets the hell out,” Ace stated plainly. “Plus the parties here are some of the best I’ve been to. 

You felt the presence of the man directly behind you, the warmth of his sweaty body lingering around the small of your back. At this point you’d still avoided eye contact, not even turning around to acknowledge the pair behind you. Without even realizing it, you began to nibble at the edge of the plastic cup, a nervous tick you had developed in these social settings. 

Ace knew that you were avoiding him, sparking his interest in you just a little more. “And who’s this?” 

You winced upon hearing the smile in his voice, cursing yourself for being so awkward. You decided to blame it on the alcohol, after all, you were a little rusty coming back into the party scene. 

“Oh! That’s [y/n]!” Luffy exclaimed. He was always excited to introduce you to new people because he knew you were a little timid. “She’s totally awesome and one of my best friends and- wait,” the boy turned to you, a puzzled look flashing across his face, “What’re you actin’ so shy for, [y/n]?? It’s just Ace.” 

Geez Luffy, any more obvious???? You took a deep breath and finally decided to turn around, greeting your goofy friend with a tight smile and a “I’ll kill you” look in your eyes. As you reluctantly take a step forward to bring Luffy into a hug, Ace shifts to the side to make room for the both of you. Luffy, completely absorbed in an alternate reality due to his drunkenness, gladly accepts your embrace. He lifts you into the air and twirls you around, the spinning room colliding with the alcohol in your system. When he (not very gracefully) places you back on the floor, you stumble a little bit from the buzz, almost as if the spinning accelerated the intoxication process. The brown strapped sandals that Nami had lent you didn’t help ground you either, lacking their usual traction from excessive use. Suddenly, you feel firm, hot hands stabilizing your exposed waist. Your breath hitched suddenly, uh oh. 

“Woah there,” Ace chuckled, “You okay?” 

You hadn’t even spoken a single word to this man, yet made several embarrassing attempts to keep it that way. Mortified, you decided that you had to redeem yourself somehow. The easiest way to cope with embarrassment has always been your sense of humor, so that’s exactly what you did. 

Opposed to stiffening in his grasp, you relaxed and rested your back onto his bare chest. You could feel the rise and fall, taking in the feeling of his solid pecs on your shoulder blades. As you turned your head to meet the man’s gaze, your eyes trailed the path from his glistening collarbones, to his brawny neck and tracing the sharpness of his jaw. You admired the way his jet black hair contrasted with his fair, peachy skin, allowing yourself to wonder how good he would look with a summer tan. To your surprise, Ace had already been looking down, waiting for your soft eyes to meet his gaze. 

Your eyes quickly flickered to his lips, and then back to his eyes. With the retort already in mind, you smirked, anticipating his reaction to the words about to leave your lips, “Y’know, I usually let a guy take me out on a date before I let him start touching me.” 

You had still been chuckling at the jab you threw at the man that you almost missed the words that followed, “Then maybe you should go out with me.”

Ace had said it so matter-of-factly that you could’ve played it off as someone casually making conversation next to you. The smug grin on his face is not exactly helping. What?? 

The amusement that colored your face quickly bled into horror, taken aback by the certainty of his voice. Peeling yourself off of him, you escaped his grasp and turned your body to face him correctly. A deep scoff and the giggles from your friends helped reel you back into reality. 

“Yeah right,” you scoffed. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t really just accept a date from a man you just met. Yes, you’d been one of Luffy’s (many) best friend’s, however, this friendship was an entirely new development. 

…

You’d met Luffy and his crew at the beginning of your first semester at the university. It was a warm summer evening, the blazing September sun setting on your move-in day. You watched the mixture of vibrant oranges and pinks color the sky from your dorm window, when a sudden burst of commotion startled you. Nami had burst through the door with a large suitcase in her left hand and tote bag in her right. 

“God, Luffy, can you wait five seconds?! These heavy ass bags already make it nearly impossible to open the door so the last thing I need is your fatass breathing down my neck-” Nami cut her outburst short when she saw you standing and staring at her with a frightened look in your eyes. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! I’m Nami.” 

She placed her bags down and extended a hand out to you, her fingers and wrist decorated with dainty golden rings and bangles. You nearly experienced whiplash adjusting to the sudden switch in her demeanor. Reluctantly, you took her hand, worried that if you hadn’t you’d be met with the same wrath. Taking a peek over her shoulder, you spotted the source of her anger, grimacing and mocking her with rolled eyes. However, this childish act ceased when he noticed you looking at him, holding back your laughter. 

“I’m [y/n]…and I take it that you must be Luffy,” you extended your hand to the boy, his firm and eager hand immediately taking yours. 

“Yup! Just ignore her, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I was totally helping!” 

“Yeah, if the helping was you whining and begging for something to eat, you definitely succeeded!” 

After you had helped Nami finish moving into your shared room, they had both invited you out with them to explore the college town. From there you met the rest of the group: Robin, Vivi, Usopp, Sanji, and Zoro. It was this very first night where you fell in love with the group’s dynamic. Their lively attitude and close bond made you feel as if you had known them your whole life, providing you with a sense of both friendship and family. Luffy and his group had become your home-away-from-home. 

…

It was until this very moment, however, where you let your mind indulge in selfish thoughts. You had cursed yourself for meeting such a loving and forgiving group of people, wishing that you could break the forbidden rule of hooking up with your best friend’s brother for just one night.

Luffy glared at his older brother and groaned, “Ace can you stop flirting with my friends?? [y/n] would never wanna go out with an ape like you.” 

“Yeah whatever,” Ace chuckled lightly. Whether it was the alcohol or delusion that fed your mind, you couldn’t help notice the hint of embarrassment in his tone. “I’ll catch you guys later. It was a pleasure meeting you, [y/n].” 

The man tipped his hat in your direction, accompanying the gesture with a small wink. You couldn’t help but blush, “Bye Ace.” 

As Ace begins to make his way back to his group, Luffy follows suit, saying his goodbyes and looking to return to Usopp. You giggle at the sight of Luffy carelessly bumping into others, brushing them off when they start bitching at him for being so clumsy. 

“Soooo, it looks like Ace has taken a liking to you,” Vivi teased with a knowing smile. Your group had met up with hers around the drinks table, unaware that she was even at this party.

“Does..that happen often?” you asked, worried that you had just fallen for the stereotypical fuck-boy tactic of wooing you solely for his entertainment. 

Nami chimes in, her lips smacking after finishing her drink, “Not necessarily, Ace just has a naturally flirty personality. At some point I thought he wanted me until I realized that’s just who he is — a flirty, more handsome version of Luffy.”

The thought of Ace taking an interest in Nami suddenly made your mouth go sour, a pit of envy and sadness twisting in your stomach. Then, as if she had noticed the discomfort on your face, Nami reassured you, “But I promise he doesn’t! Like I said, he’s just naturally flirty so there’s nothing there at all. Like seriously, never in a million years.” 

“It’s okay Nami,” you chuckled. “It’s not like I’d actually go after him. That’s crazy! I could never do that to Luffy. Plus I’ve already toed the line with my feelings for Zoro…I just could never risk losing someone so close to me.” 

The feeling of Zoro’s name rolling off your tongue stung, wishing you’d been using it under a different circumstance. Zoro had always failed to reciprocate your feelings, whether that was laughing off your flirty advances toward him or just simply putting you in the friend zone. 

“You know you’re one of my best friends, right?” was his famous line, a sweet gesture considering you’d seen him let other girls down more harshly. The truth was that Zoro hadn’t been interested in anything romantic with anyone. Sure, he flirted and entertained girls here and there, but it never went further than a clean cut hook up. He had been more concerned with achieving his personal goals — fulfilling his duties as becoming a great hockey player and creating a name for himself in the big leagues. He believed that a craving for a “real” romance would be a wasteful distraction. Of course, you didn’t know that (or chose not to believe it anyway). Reminiscing on such embarrassing and pathetic memories stung your throat, scolding yourself for being so bold back then. The embarrassment rising in your throat caused you to quickly grab another cup, nearly filling it to the brim with the similar concoction you had begun to drink earlier only with more alcohol.

“Hey, are you okay [y/n]?” Robin asked, her sincere voice filled with concern. 

You took a long sip, hoping to wash away the discomfort. Turning to the blue-eyed woman, you flashed her an attempt of a soft smile, “Never been better.”

…

The events of the night began to blend together hazily, the alcohol almost completely consuming you at this point. Your feet felt light, almost as if you were floating through the party, your heavy eyelids being the only thing weighing you down. Eventually, your bladder had angrily let you know it was time to relieve itself before humiliating you in the sea of people. Nami and the girls asked if you needed any help making your way over to the bathroom but you assured them you’d be okay. It wasn’t until you got a considerable distance away from your group that you realized you actually didn’t know where the bathroom was. The obnoxiously loud music and the half-shrugs of drunken bystanders led you to a dead end. It wasn’t until you noticed a familiar silhouette that you began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. However, that light quickly faded when you realized that your saving grace was the king of getting lost — Roronoa Zoro himself. 

You swallowed your pride after a small fit of whining and dragged your feet over to the young man leaning against the wall, silently praying that he at least knew the bathroom’s general direction. The sharp sensation that consumed the lower half of your body was suddenly redirected to your stomach at the sight before you, causing you to stop in your tracks. Zoro was talking to someone…and that someone was a girl. You could make out the dark, harsh shadow that traced his jawline moving slowly, whispering something intently into the girl’s ear. The smug grin on his rosy lips let you know that he wasn’t just talking to her, but flirting. And by the look on her face, he was doing it well, her dark eyes filled with lust and mischief. She began to play with the thin gold chain that draped across his collarbone, twirling it in between her long, slender fingers. Tears began to prickle behind your eyes, a lump forming in your throat as you passed the scene, refusing to make eye contact. I didn’t want your fucking help anyway. 

The combination of tears and intoxication made it incredibly hard to see, feeling your way through the crowd as your only form of navigation. You hadn’t been watching where you were going — all you knew was that you needed to find a bathroom and STAT. This fit of jealousy and carelessness led you straight into a hard surface, which would have easily been mistaken for a wall had you not felt the squishiness of flesh that accompanied it. It wasn’t long before you realized that you had run head-first into someone’s spine, causing them to frantically turn around. 

“Hey! Watch where you’re-“ the irritated voice began, however, it became soft immediately upon seeing the expression on your face. “[y/n]? What's the matter??” 

Removing the hand from your forehead after the dull pain subsided, you made eye contact with the tall figure. The tight squeezing of your eyes had finally let the tears fall, small streaks of black trickling down your cheeks. The person you collided with was none other than Portgas D. Ace. He gently began to wipe the tears away, his large hand cupping your jaw and the other resting on your bare shoulder. The tenderness behind his every move made you melt into his touch. You had no time to feel embarrassed or sorry for yourself as the stinging in your bladder had returned once again. 

“I really need to use the bathroom,” was all you could muster between the soft sobs that escaped your lips. Ace chuckled softly, relieved that you hadn’t been in any actual danger. 

“C’mon I’ll show you,” he said, lightly grabbing your hand and guiding you through the masses of people. Unfortunately for you, he had been leading you right back to where Zoro had been. It turns out the bathroom was directly adjacent to where he had made his post for the night. Only a few more steps and you would’ve made it (almost) scotch-free. 

You could’ve fell to your knees at the sight of a free bathroom with no line, a rare commodity at any college party. You threw a brief “thanks” at Ace, fumbling with the door knob as the pain of an overly full bladder consumes your entire being. After relieving yourself, you stared deeply into your own eyes, your reflection warped and swaying like a fun-house mirror. You began to breathe heavily, hunched over the sink attempting to sober yourself up so you wouldn’t get lost on the way back to Nami’s group—also so they wouldn’t notice that you had been crying. The more you stared, the more you noticed how disheveled you truly were: dried mascara smeared across your cheeks, your lip liner and gloss completely gone, hair frizzy and sticking to your sweaty forehead. Wow so this night actually could get worse. Quickly, you cleaned your face up with your fingers and some warm water, figuring everyone was too drunk to notice the difference. Reapplying your staple lip combination, you assure yourself that it’s close enough to the way you always wear it. 

Upon leaving the bathroom, you’re met with the hairy chest of a larger man, beads of sweat allowing his olive skin to glisten under the faint hallway light. Startled from the sudden contact, you jump back, a small squeal escaping your throat. 

“Shit, sorry!” you shout, hoping the man can hear you over the blaring music. His eyes are drooping and his movements are slowed, the pungent smell of alcohol radiating off his body. You attempt to scooch your way past him, however, he blocks your path by putting his arm against the doorframe. The remnants of alcohol now clash with his disgusting body odor, the smell so strong it’s enough to make you heave. 

“Whereya’ off to, beautiful?” the strange man slurs, his lips turning up into an awkward smirk. This cannot be happening right now. 

You scoff, growing more and more irritated by the second. The last thing you needed right now was to be harassed by a disgusting frat brother at a party you begrudgingly agreed to attend. 

“Nowhere that should concern you,” you stated curtly, hoping the man would take the hint that you were completely uninterested. 

You aggressively shoved his arm out of the way, clearing an opening for your escape. However, you hadn’t even gotten four paces away from the scene when you felt a harsh grip pulling on your arm. Horrified at the audacity, you turn around and meet the man’s drunken glaze, his face still decorated with that terrible grin. 

“Dude! Leave me the fuck alone!” you exclaim, tugging your arm in an attempt to escape his death grip. 

“Oh c’monn,” he hiccuped, “Don’t be like that. I can show ya’ a g’d time, ya know?” 

It wasn’t long until you realized that trying to escape was going to be a lot harder than you had anticipated. As the man began to drag you further into the dark abyss of the empty restroom, your breath hitched and your heart began to race. Whatever trace of alcohol that had plagued your system merely a few minutes prior was now completely gone, the adrenaline kick-starting your fight-or-flight. You frantically begin to search around, praying to the heavens above that someone, anyone, would come to your aid. The rapid breathing made it extremely hard to speak, let alone scream. 

“Please, just let me go,” you pleaded, sobs beginning to get caught on the lump in your throat. You’d heard of the horror stories of girls who had been taken advantage of at events like these, never imagining that it would happen to you. 

Seconds before you had accepted your fate, a blur of a fleshy pink ball flashed across your face, the wind from its speed grazing your nose. The man holding you captive was suddenly thrown into the wall, a loud crash following the sound of blood splattering. The party suddenly went still, the air thick with tension. You snapped your head around, your eyes landing on Ace, who had been glaring intensely at the unconscious figure on the floor. 

“She said to leave her alone, asshole!” he shouted, his booming voice startling you. His gaze quickly met yours, and suddenly, Ace’s dark eyes had color to them. The aged yellowish lighting of the overhead lamp illuminated the deep chestnut brown that lined his pupils, bleeding into a fiery amber. Ace’s expression immediately softened upon noticing the frightened look across your face, “Are you okay?”

His eyes darted to the bruised imprint of the man’s hand that colored your arm. Ace’s brows furrowed as he watched you wince, a stinging pain radiating through your arm as you attempted to wave him off, “Yeah I’m okay. Thank you, Ace” 

Swarms of bystanders rush to the scene, some recording on their phones, others whispering and muttering “what the fuck”-s and “what just happened”-s as they attempt to assess the situation. The adrenaline quickly wears off as you realize what just happened, a pit forming in your stomach and tears stinging your eyes for the millionth time, unsure if you had any left to cry. Ace gently places a hand on the small of your back to guide you away from the scene, wincing slightly from the contact. He scans the crowd for familiar faces, hoping to see Luffy or anyone that would be able to take better care of you in this situation. He understands that he cannot properly tend to your needs because doesn’t know you. He’s afraid of hurting you any further, afraid of saying or doing something inappropriate that could lead you to resent him in the future. 

“Do you know where Luffy is?” he asks you, voiced riddled with urgency. He huffs a strained sigh when you shake your head, his rosy lips flapping as he blows a small raspberry. “Okay, I‘ll just take you to Nami—she’ll know what to d-” 

The music is suddenly cut, the clamoring of confused voices and boos filling the room. A large man climbs on top of a rather unstable and disgusting table, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify his announcement, “IF YOURE NOT A BROTHER, FUCKING A BROTHER, OR IF YOURE PORTGAS D. ACE THEN GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE WE CALL THE COPS!!!” 

You and Ace turn to each other and immediately lock eyes, your wide-eyed expressions mirroring each other. A sinister smirk creeps onto the man's face as he begins to chuckle, his velvet eyelashes brushing against his freckled cheeks as he begins to laugh harder. Annoyed groans fill the room as people begin to make their way out of the party, one voice in particular muttering a “not again”. Ace fully latches on to your wrist now, his large, calloused hands enveloping your soft skin. He rushes you through the sea of people, holding onto his hat as he quickly weaves in between them. Occasionally, he’ll look back at you to make sure you’re still in one piece as you try to keep up with him. Based on his mischievous attitude, you infer that this was not his first rodeo. 

…

It turns out that Ace had accumulated many fraternity enemies, usually for keeping the brothers in check and correcting their disgusting habits. 

“Serving justice is apparently frowned upon nowadays,” Ace had retorted. The two of you had taken refuge on a curb a few houses down from the scene of the party, the cold pavement scratching your hardly-covered thighs. You brought your knees to your chest to seek some warmth, the heat from the man next to you helped ease the chill that prickled your skin. Ace’s charming sarcasm made it easy to talk to him, almost as if you two had been friends for years. 

“So what made you choose community college — not that it’s bad or anything!” you reassured, hoping your innocent curiosity didn’t come off as ignorantly presumptuous. “I just ask because Luffy attends the university, so I wonder why…you didn’t do the same?” 

Ace gives you a soft smile, letting you know that he was not at all offended by your question. “It definitely wasn’t my first choice, but I realized that it would’ve been much easier to be closer to home.”

You notice the way he nervously fidgets with the ends of his shorts, pinching and twisting the fabric into intricate positions. I really shouldn't pry...

"Listen, we don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. Trust me, I get how uncomfortable these things can be," you chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.

"It's no big deal, really," Ace replied, a warm smile creeping across his face. He turned to look into the early morning sky, the faint constellation of the night's stars remaining. You traced the sharp curve of his jawline with your eyes, soaking in all of the features you had failed to notice before. In the crook of his neck, you found a cluster of freckles that had made their home there. You memorized the way his hair pooled at the base of his neck, dusky waves surrounding his delicate skin. His dark eyes flickered back and forth as they traced the stars — you could almost see the words he was trying to begin with.

"I never enjoyed my father's presence, not that he was at home much anyway. He always pushed my brothers and I to 'follow in his footsteps,' even though we made it abundantly clear we wanted nothing to do with him," Ace scoffed, the venom in his words causing him to grimace. The down curve of his lips accentuated the small scar that rested on his bottom lip. "He never cared much for any of us, always leaving for days on end. Hell, I got so used to him being gone that I had to step in and help my mom raise my two brothers. His main target was always Luffy, just cause he's the youngest he thought he could easily be manipulated. That obviously didn't get him very far though — you know how hardheaded Luffy can be when he really sets his mind to stuff."

You chuckled softly at the thought, oh do I ever. The memory of the time Luffy had helped you rearrange your dorm sprang into your mind. It was originally Nami's idea, believing that a "change of scenery" would help clear her mind from her impending statistics exam. Luffy had relentlessly insisted that you loft your bed a little higher to "make more room for activities," ultimately clearing some of the clutter that gathered across the floor. You had argued that it would make getting comfortable in your bed 1000x more difficult. However, as much as you pleaded, Luffy refused to listen to you, believing that it was his way or the high way. You reluctantly gave in to his suggestion (which had actually been an incredible upgrade as you were able to organize the room much easier — but you'd never admit that to Luffy).

"Yeah, he's a handful," you smiled, deciding to relieve your hair from its exhausted updo. "but I love him, nonetheless. He talks a lot about you, y'know."

Ace smiled, "Yeah well, it wasn't always like that. At the same time, him and I always butted heads — selfishly, I wanted him to stay closer to home to help me with mom, while he wanted to get away and have his own freedom. It took me a while to realize that I was just projecting my feelings onto him, a funny habit I learned from my father"

You hadn't expected to get on such a vulnerable level with Portgas D. Ace, but here you were — sitting on a curb listening to him open up about his childhood. The way his body completely relaxed while he spoke to you made you forget about your romantic feelings toward him. The facade of the flirty older brother had slipped. Instead, the comfortable silence between you two allowed you to admire him at a respectable distance, taking in every syllable that escaped his lips as he revealed his heart to you.

"...which is why when he got accepted here, I knew that I had to let him go be his own man. I owe everything to my mother, and I just couldn't leave home knowing that her life would be a living hell."

"I'm glad it all worked out for you guys. Your selflessness led me to meet the best people I've ever met in my entire life," you jested, bumping into his side with your exposed shoulder. The ease surrounding you caused you to be a little more bold. "...including you. If it weren't for you tonight, I would've gotten seriously hurt. So thank you again, truly."

The air between you two grew unexpectedly warm, the gap filling in with his heat as he leaned in. His large, calloused hand gently cupped your jaw, tracing the smooth skin as if to memorize your delicate features. Ace's firm fingers raked through the hair that resides on the nape of your neck, pulling your closer to him. His lips stopped millimeters before clashing with yours, his breath mingling and teasing yours.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his honey-colored eyes burning holes into yours. Speechlessly, you nod your head, eyes flickering back and forth between his eyes and his lips. Your eagerness dragged a husky laugh from his throat "I was hoping you'd say that."

So much for non-romantic feelings

Ace's warm, plushy lips smashed into yours, drinking in the way you taste. His tongue peeked through to part your lips, creating an entrance to the deep labyrinth behind them. You allowed him to dominate the kiss, your back arching to meet his warm chest as you both breathe heavily into each other. Ace places a gentle hand on the small of your back, gesturing you to relax your weight into his arms. You do so with pleasure, using his strength as leverage to meet his pace. Your hands hungrily find their way into his hair, ruffling up the sides as you grip onto his jet black locks. The two of you momentarily break away, catching your breath before Ace's red-hot lips travel down your neck. He ravenously suckles on the exposed skin before biting down, causing you to huff a moan from the painful sensation. Your hands escaped from his hair as you brought his face to meet yours, the two of you smiling through the kiss as you briefly locked eyes. It was as if you had never sobered up — drunk on the pheromones and lust that radiated from his body. The two of you were so enveloped in each other that you hadn't noticed the large, white vehicle pull up in front of you. The moment was over as quickly as it began, a long, blaring horn echoing down the street. The sudden change in volume caused you to jump, Ace accidentally biting your bottom lip. You pulled away instantly, wiping your mouth and refusing to make eye contact with anyone as the horror settled in on what you had just done.

"Sanji??? What the hell are you doing here?!" you shouted angrily into the void, carving out the silhouette of the man in the driver's seat through the dimly lit tip of his cigarette.

"What am I doing here? You're the one perched up on the curb sucking face! Get in the car, I'm taking everyone back to the dorms."

"Don't worry, [y/n]!! Luffy's in the back passed out, didn't see a thing I promise!" Nami hiccuped, the slight slurring of her words alerted you that she was intoxicated.

Reluctantly, you enter through the side door, climbing over the seemingly lifeless bodies of your friends. A pang of guilt strikes your chest as your eyes land on Zoro, peacefully sleeping with Luffy on his shoulder. You quickly shake off the feeling, preventing your heart from getting caught in a web of conflict, spiraling out of control. Instead, you allow your heart to beat for someone else — turning back to Ace and giving him a warm smile as you take a seat next to his little brother.

"Why don't you join us? I'm sure your buddies won't mind you staying with one of the guys," you said, your random act of kindness earning a grimace from Sanji in the front seat, cursing you under his breath.

The glimmer in his eyes shifted from excitement to mischief, his bright smile curving into something more sinister, "Why don't I stay with you?"

Your breath hitches, the air in the car becoming tense as you feel pairs of wide eyes burning holes into the side of your face. Sanji nearly tips the car over as he whips his body around, the ash of the cigarette falling on the center console as his jaw hangs open. The boy behind you stirs as the Zoro wakes, his brows contorting into an expression of disgust and confusion.

"She's not easy, y'know" Zoro argues, his voice raspy from the combination of sleep and alcohol. "I know you're used to that kinda thing but [y/n] is different, so have someone else pick you up. There's not even room for you in here."

Ace's expression never faltered. In fact, it quirked into something even more playful as he shrugged, "Well then I guess [y/n] will just have to sit on my lap."

Your cheeks burned hot, anger and embarrassment morphing your face into a bright crimson. Why is Zoro acting out now?? Since when has he ever cared about my love life? Zoro sucked his teeth as he turned to face the window, huffing a sigh of frustration as he shook his head.

"Since when do you care?" you snapped, your previous bout of irritation rising in your throat.

"I don't. I'm just looking out for you," Zoro replied, hardly maintaining eye contact with you. He'd never admit this to your face, but you kinda scared him whenever you got upset — almost as much as Nami did.

"Well don't. I can make my own decisions." You stepped out of the car to make some room for Ace, whose eyes watched you with admiration. As soon as he made his way in, you hoisted yourself onto his lap, Ace's rough hands guiding you to a spot that was comfortable enough for the two of you. You had become hypersensitive to his touch — the feeling of Ace's legs spreading beneath you, the way his hands never left your waist, his warm breath huffing against your exposed back caused warmth to pool between your legs.

"Are we at McDonalds?" Luffy queried, his eyes half-open as he bobbles his head to assess the situation. His silly question relieved some of the tension that had built up in the car, everyone chuckling and releasing the breath they had been holding throughout the small quarrel.

"Lemme get a Big Mac and large fries," Usopp shouts from the back, his legs sprawled across Vivi and Robin's laps.

...

After sneaking past the RA's room with a giggly Nami, Vivi offers to take her off your hands for the night.

"Don't worry [y/n], we'll take her for the night," the blue-haired woman smiled, "She can borrow a pair of my pajamas for now. I'll make sure she stays in one piece."

You gave her a small chuckle, thanking her and Robin for their service.

"Be safe and let me know if you need anything! We're just down the hall."

"Use protection!" Robin added, chuckling as you gave her a stern, mortified look.

Upon opening the door, you pave the way into your dorm room by picking up the articles of clothing left sprawled across the floor. You shove them into your closet quickly, hoping Ace hadn't seen the disgusting mess you and Nami left the room in. He did.

"You can take my bed if you want," you said, smoothing out your sheets and fluffing your pillows so that it's comfortable for your unexpected guest. Ace watched you as you did so, his bare back pressed against the large wooden door. He took note of the way your back arched to pull the sheets straight, your hair draping over your right shoulder to reveal the tone of your back muscles. His eyes traced over the curve of your ass, wishing your skirt had been just a little shorter so that he could see your silky legs. Using his heels, Ace pushed off the door and made his way over to you. You turn around to meet his gaze, attempting to read his thoughts through his dark eyes. His hands wrap around your waist as he leans in, planting a soft, yet hungry, kiss on your lips. Your arms travel to drape around his neck, pressing your body against his. Ace picks you up in one swift motion, gripping the back of your thighs for support as you straddle his waist.

Ace pulls away, lips a deep red and slick with your saliva mixed with his. "We both know that's not what you want."

His sly words worked their way straight down to your core, huffing a laugh as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, "Is it that obvious?"

Ace trails gentle kisses down your neck, his warmth bleeding across your skin as he works his way down your shoulder, "Maybe a little."

You cup his cheeks between your hands, bringing his attention back to your lips. Ace shifts your entire weight onto one of his arms, using his free hand to fumble with the strings of your top. Once undone, you shrug off the fabric, revealing the supple skin of your breasts. Ace spins around and throws you onto your fluffy comforter, admiring the way your tits bounced upon impact. You kept your arms raised by your head, allowing him to take in your curves as you maintained eye contact. Before you knew it, Ace is already fumbling with his shorts, kicking them off to reveal the length pitching underneath his boxers. He slowly peels off your long skirt, leaving just your white lacy panties. Ace makes room for himself between your legs, his hard cock grinding against your slick entrance. You gasped from the friction against your swollen clit, unsure of how you were gonna handle the way he would fill you up.

"Please, Ace. I need you," you gasped, begging him to take it further. You can feel his smile against your skin. Ace never would've taken you for the submissive type. Recognizing your request, Ace makes his way down to your core, leaving kisses from down your stomach to the inside of your thighs. Getting on his knees, Ace lifts you up from the small of your back, dragging you down to meet his mouth. He leaves small hickeys dangerously close to your already-throbbing cunt, biting and suckling the thin layer of skin that resides there. Frustrated from the teasing, you direct your attitude toward the black waves that decorate his head — tugging and ruffling his hair. Ace huffs a breathy laugh into your core, the warmth from his mouth causing your back to arch off the twin-sized mattress.

After what felt like ages of foreplay, Ace finally peels your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He places a long kiss onto your swollen clit before relieving you of your bottoms entirely. You spread your legs wider out of instinct, inviting him to drink in the way you taste. Ace brings your legs to rest over his shoulders as he dives into your core, hungrily exploring every fold with his tongue. His strong nose glides across your sensitive bud as he eats you out, his tongue rhythmically sliding in and out of your entrance. The sweet sounds of your slick against his mouth fill the room, your moans following closely behind. You begin to squirm underneath his grasp as you approach your climax, pressure building inside your stomach.

"I'm close, Ace" you plead breathlessly. "Please don't stop."

The trembling of your thighs was Ace's queue to increase his speed, lapping and suckling harder and faster to help you finish. He inserts his long, girth fingers into your slick entrance, hooking them up to find your sweet spot. The hiss of pleasure that escaped your mouth let him know that he succeeded, pumping his fingers in and out until your nectar coated them entirely.

"Fuck, Ace! I'm comingggnh ah-" you shouted, the combination of his strong fingers and his nimble tongue pushing you over the edge, your cunt squirting its sweet release all over his face and your freshly washed sheets.

"That's it, baby," Ace reassured, using his tongue to clean the mess from between your legs. He's always been a firm believer of prioritizing a woman's pleasure over his own, making sure you were attended to before he got his share. Once his hunger was satisfied (and you were a pulsing, shaking mess), Ace placed a kiss on your lips, giving you a taste of your own slick. Hungrily, you accepted the favor — wrestling against his tongue to absorb every fiber of his being. Ace pulls away abruptly, moving upward to nestle his mouth into your ear.

"Get up and turn around," he ordered, pulling back to give you enough room to do so. You complied with ease, climbing onto all-fours waiting for his next command. Ace places a firm hand between your shoulder blades, slowly applying pressure to push your chest and face into the mattress. He grabs a handful of your ass, playing with the plump flesh that steadies before him, ready to take him in at a moment's notice. Ace frees his pulsing cock from the confines of his boxers, lining his dripping tip with your buzzing entrance. Gripping onto your hips to stabilize himself, Ace slowly inserts himself into you, memorizing the way you snugly fit around him. A loud groan escaped your lips as you feel Ace bottom out, his cock being way bigger than you had expected. You gripped the sheets underneath you as he began to slide in and out of you, the friction both painful and overwhelmingly good as you're still riding out your previous orgasm.

"God you feel so good," Ace moans, eyes mesmerized on the way you bounce off his cock. Your slow, rhythmic pace increases as you crave more and more of his length, pushing your ass into his hips as you rock your own. You can feel Ace's hips buck and tense as your core pulses along his sensitive shaft, a rewarding whimper fleeing from his lips. "Fuck [y/n], slow down."

Strings of saliva connect your mouth and the sheet beneath you as you lift your head, turning around to meet Ace's eyes. You huff a laugh as you sinisterly decide to use your effect on the man behind you to your advantage. "Pull my hair, Ace."

Throughout the entire night, it had been Ace's suave advances toward you that allowed you to fall at his feet. But right now, in the dim light of your desk lamp, you decided to take control — wanting him to crumble and beg from inside you. Ace's concentrated expression quickly faltered, a mix of shock and excitement flushing his cheeks. "You sure?"

You nodded breathlessly, maintaining eye contact becoming more difficult as his pace quickens. He crouches over and plants kisses down the nape of your neck, traveling further down your spine as his lips mingling with the beads of sweat that pool in your curves. Ace places one final kiss before grabbing a fistful of your hair, swiftly wrapping it multiple times around his large hands to ensure a tight grip. The stinging sensation from your scalp causes you to wince, a moan of pain overrides the previous melodies that poured from your throat. Ace immediately loosens his grip, checking in and making sure you were okay.

"We can stop if it hurts too much," he reassures. You cursed yourself for worrying him, and let him know that you were okay and wanted to keep going. Ace trusted your word, easing back into his rhythm. The sounds of flesh slapping together fill the room as his pace quickens once more — this time you can feel Ace's knees begin to buckle as he reaches his climax. Sweet moans and whimpers rise from your throat, you thighs shaking as you come dangerously close to finishing once more.

"Don't come yet," Ace ordered, the authority in his voice returning, thick and firm. "I wanna see how beautiful you look when you do it all over my cock."

Before you could argue with him to keep going, he pulls out and flips you onto your back. The hair that was once in his firm grasp was now pooled behind your head, wet and sticky from your sweat and his mingling in his palm. Ace makes himself comfortable in the space between your thighs, scooping his arms underneath you to lift your chest to his mouth. He places kisses along your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples as he suckles gently on the skin. Slowly, he inserts himself back into your slick entrance, navigating through your warmth to find the center of your pleasure point.

Your face contorts into an expression you were entirely unaware of being able to create, eyes lolling to the back of your head as Ace slams into your g-spot just right. The words of encouragement that coaxed out from his mouth pushed you further and further to the edge, "That's it, baby. Just relax. You're doing great, mama."

"Fuck Ace, please go faster," you pant, begging him to ravage your body. Thankfully, he complied — quickening his pace, leaving loving bites on the soft skin of your shoulders. Ace's gaze returned to yours, watching intently as you reach your climax. He grips the handles on your waist as you shake and moan uncontrollably beneath him, letting you ride out your orgasm before releasing his own. You feel the thick ropes of Ace's cum fill you up, his pace slowing to watch the river of white pour out of your already-leaking hole. Ace releases you from his grasp, placing one final kiss on your cheek as he pulls out.

...

"Luffy's gonna hate me y'know," Ace teased, playing with strands of your hair as he spoons you from behind. The two of you had abandoned the soiled sheets and cuddled beneath one of your clean back-up blankets. Laundry day is gonna be a pain.

"He's gonna have to get through me first," you retorted, chuckling breathlessly as you catch your breath. Every problem, every stressor you had completely washed away at this moment. It was as if you had never felt peace and contentment until this very moment. You smiled to yourself, knowing that Nami would put this night into your never-ending pool of debt.

y'all have no idea how long this fic took me omg my chains are gone and i've been set free. but jokes aside this is one of my favorite things i have ever written and i hope u enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :))

[wandagcre]

push it for the pleasure | wanda maximoff 🔞

(College!Perv!Bestfriend Wanda Maximoff x Innocent!Fem Reader)

Wanda’s perverted thirst gets the best of her. You were irresistible and simply for her taking. And what does she do? She doesn’t resist. Instead, Wanda feeds the gnawing, filthy, and hungry monster inside of her by having her way with you even while you’re unconscious.

WARNING: heavy dubcon/noncon themes, fingering, perverted actions such as implied stealing undies, staring, touching and taking nonconsensual nudes, daddy kink (W), corruption kink, somnophilia | 18+ men & minors dni. Words: 3.6k Note: part of the perv!wanda series. you can consider it as a backstory that happened before this oneshot ;)

[perv!wanda series] | [masterlist]

Wanda had an affinity for your tedious nature. Whether it comes down to your personal interests or university workload; not solely rooted by your clear determination written in your adorable face that she admires, but rather, how it leaves you exhausted to your very bones. Tired meant the manifestations of neglect — one that left you comfortable on your bed as the aftermath. 

You were so lucky to have her, not only Wanda has slid a bottle of water or a snack on your side, but on a good day with a less constricting schedule of hers, she's got the privilege of pressing firm around the strained muscles of your shoulder — feeling you succumb into the comfort and her ears being rewarded of your soft moans.

 

A purr escaped your mouth. "That feels so good Wands..." Your body slumped in a relaxed state.

Wanda bit her lip at the innocent play of your words. "Anything for you, dorogaya. Do you want me to press harder?"

"Ah... yes, if- if it's alright with you," came a meek response out of your lips. 

Wanda knew the effect of her native language on you. She couldn't help but lightly pinch your burning cheeks.

As Wanda kneaded the kinks out of your tired muscles, she couldn't help but thirst for more. The tendency of her insatiable want when it comes to you only grows impossibly bigger every day. Whether it was her dying need to touch you or your attention fixated on her - Wanda needs it all.

"It would be better if you took off your shirt. It’s more direct and effective," She murmured at the shell of your ear. Excitement coursed through Wanda's body as you squirmed in your seat.

You turn your head to the side in question. "Wouldn't that be too much of your time?"

"Nonsense. I love doing this for you."

Wanda wolfishly grinned as she saw you eventually nod in agreement.

Oh, you were so pliant and ready for her.

Your bestfriend had to stop her scandalous thoughts of wanting to bite and mark your back as you undressed your top in front of her. She admires the view of your back and its dimples, her mouth-watering and well-awareness of how soft they were. Wanda didn't waste any time on touching you — the breathy innocent moans and soft tilts of your head as you succumbed to her touch whenever Wanda hit a satisfying spot made her mind go haywire. Her thumb applying pressure over the bottom of your trapezius; just where your nape rests upon particularly was a sweet spot. 

You looked lost; wrapped in complete bliss. 

"Can I touch you whenever?"

"Like this?" 

"Yes," Wanda doesn't miss a beat. It was risky and ambiguous, and so she adds, "I love your skin and how soft it is under my touch. It’s so… comforting.”

She decides to take more than she should've and ran her hand across the expanse of your back to caress — how you shivered was hard to go amiss for the woman. 

You know nothing can go wrong especially when it's Wanda. She's the best at attending to your needs, a thought that mildly scared you of how attuned she was, but you knew it was always rooted in benevolence and affection.

Therefore, you couldn't help but recall how come this woman stuck out negatively to other people — having alleged issues of her temperament combined with her altruistic nature. They felt nothing more than a made-up childish rumor in the playground to you as to how Wanda easily conversed with you on that first week when you'd approached her brazenly.

Wanda had figured it out not so long ago; how the double-edged sword trait of yours was how you always believed to see the goodness in the people first. It was a debatable display of strength and flaw.

Besides, you liked having her attention for some reason. Wanda's perfect smile was often so reassuring for you, effortlessly putting you at ease.

"Okay, Wands." was your good-humored reply. Your bestfriend couldn't help but press her lips against the top of your head. You smelled wonderful. Wanda really couldn’t get enough of you.

Your unwavering blind faith-filled Wanda with so much pride.

The cherry on top of it all was how Wanda has taken care of your pretty princess parts; one between your legs and the occasional massages on your breasts. 

It was so easy. 

Wanda thrived on seeing your beautiful irises filled with innocence and gleam as you met her mischievous emerald ones. You've given her the opportunity of a lifetime and she intends to relish every given chance that she can get. It took her baby steps to get here – once she figured out where your affection levels lay, she initiated simple touches – whether it was a hug, tugging you close to her proximity, or now her intentions that stood morally corrupt; Wanda will find a way to accidentally brush against your private parts.

While you lay on one of her arms, Wanda gently ran her fingers through your soft cheeks as you faced her. She soaked in the sweet smell of your shampoo and the distinguishable scent of yours that Wanda could not get enough of. You looked angelic and waiting to be cherished. Soon enough, Wanda seeks for another type of comfort; her hands descending underneath your shirt, tiptoeing almost, with an unstoppable grin on her face — two fingers pushing under the band of your bra. 

"Daddy's here. She'll always be here for you. I'm going to take care of you, dorogaya." Wanda whispered voice lilted with pure desire before her naughty hand came to cup one of your breasts. The recessed night glow that came from your dorm’s window was the only source of light, her actions being done in the darkness amplified the thrill in Wanda’s actions.

A suppressed moan came out of her lips. God, you were so fucking full — supple and fitted perfectly to her palm. One squeeze was followed by a dozen more that inevitably led to pinching and enclosed her fingers from your areola to your now perked tip. 

"All for Daddy..." 

Her thumb came to play for more, in circular motions around your nipple. Your breathing pattern was nuanced although still haven't shown clear evidence of you waking up anytime soon. Wanda rolled the sleeves of her sweatshirt, knowing she had a whole night ahead of her.

Eventually, it wasn't enough. She needed more. 

And so Wanda will make sure to get more. 

Careful not to wake you, she pulls out her arm that served as your pillow from earlier. You now lay on your back, still unphased, Wanda raised the hem of your shirt to reveal your indoor bra. Her eyes darkened at how pure and dainty you were presented in front of her, your blemishes and moles make up a beautiful constellation in Wanda's eyes.

Because of this, she's somewhat still in disbelief at your admission that no one has taken you yet.

But fret not, Wanda thought, because she's here and she's certain that you won't need anyone else other than her anytime soon.

"Daddy's going to play with you dorogaya, trust that it will be so much fun."

Wanda carefully rolls and pushes up your bra and now reveals your delectable breasts, cushiony and hanging free. This simply calls for another photoshoot. 

She quickly retrieved the Polaroid camera that was atop your nightstand, just beside her rings. She's always brought it for a good reason.

Wanda had three subjects; one was nature and the other was you and no one else. What can she say? you've got her wrapped on your finger as much as she does over you. Her last subject was more risqué and controversial, it was still you — although it was a special one — meant for Wanda's eyes alone.

Wanda had placed her lips on your buttery soft breasts and wet them as she suctioned, her tongue coming into play to swirl them around. Her open-mouthed sucks and kisses filled your skin with red and purple marks. Wanda almost had a heart attack at the hoarse, high-pitched timber, a little trait of yours that you randomly let out before you sleepily stretched your limbs. 

You were so cute.

"Dorogaya? Dorogaya..." Wanda hummed in a sing-song, checking if you were still unconscious. 

Once sure that you're in deep sleep again, Wanda doesn't waste a moment to point her camera at your goodies — another one of the latest artworks she had done over you.

Soon as Wanda wrapped up and brought your bra and shirt in its unrattled state, here she was — pensive and debating whether she should ruin your pussy next.

Her greed over you took over with ease. Quickly, Wanda gathers her cascading hair in her hand and ties it up. She masterfully tugged down your shorts and as it reached your ankle, threw it away somewhere in your room. You even wore the red socks she gave you years ago! Wanda swooned at the cute sight. She caressed gently the expanse of your smooth legs where childhood scars and a few more moles came into better view. 

You weren't wet just yet, of course. Wanda immediately wanted to change that and feel the heat you've been hiding away from her — to feel you around her fingers. 

"You're so ready for Daddy, dorogaya. You don't know how much I want to eat you right now... to get a taste directly from its source, my tongue against your pretty and puffy pussy," Wanda knew you couldn't hear her, but it doesn't stop the wanton monologues of her feverish desires over you. "You're just for Daddy, aren't you?" She ran her fingers sultrily across your lower tummy, down to your pelvis.

It simply made her journey worthwhile. She somewhat wanted to communicate how fuckable your virgin self was for her. It was no longer the case as crossed this bridge a few months ago, but her filthy soul relished in corrupting you — with Wanda in complete control and taking you.

Luckily for Wanda, you've raised one of your legs — caught in a folded position, enough for her to pry you open. 

Setting your ribbon-designed undies aside, Wanda’s mouth watered at your inner walls coming into view that she could not help herself and immediately inserted two fingers inside of your velvety walls. 

"Fuck, you're so warm for Daddy!" Wanda rasps out, her body burning. As though in a cue in response, you huskily moaned in your sleep as well. "You love this, don't you? This won't take long, don't worry, dorogaya..."

Your bed rocked and creaked slowly, as Wanda fucked you asleep. The wetness came pouring and coated her until she was knuckle-deep in you. She stretched your now sopping hole, and the breathy moans tumbled out of your pretty lips now and then.

How you did not wake up yet was a miraculous thing for her.

Before Wanda gets carried away in roughly fingering you enough to rouse you out of your consciousness, she pumps and curls her fingers inside of you once more before reaching for her camera. She spreads your inner thighs apart — the viscous wetness that she loved to see was there. The repeated clicks reverberated and the white flashes of her camera came in the knowing four walls of your dorm.

She even inspects your wetness, rubbing and playing with them with her pinched forefinger and thumb.

A wicked smile breaks out of her in glee and satisfaction as Wanda admires for a moment the mess she has made; successful once again as she looks at the polaroid photos she recently took of you.

She pressed a soft kiss on your temple. "You did so well for Daddy."

Almost half an hour later, you wake up confused. You were wet — your cheeks burned. This was becoming a frequent occurrence and you were too old to pee in the bed. You're more than sure that your bladder was well-adjusted. But was there anything else that was wrong with you down there? You tightly crossed your legs.

Wanda appeared from your bathroom. Right, she stayed the night. She was beautiful even if the constant turning in bed had ruffled her appearance. Although, there were much more pressing matters — this is nothing but humiliating for you, surely this spot did not go amiss for your best friend...

"What’s the matter?" Wanda approaches your side. 

You were hesitant, quick to try pushing her away. "Don't come close! I'm wet... I don't know how it happened. Goodness, I know for a fact I didn’t pee myself. Or did I?"

"You did not, dorogaya. Dummy, it was my fault." Wanda gave out a hearty chuckle at your immovable confusion. 

"How was it your fault?"

"I spilled my drink on the bed," Wanda played with your hair and you immediately folded. You were so easy to please. "I was just about to wake you so you can change your shorts and underwear."

You let out another relieved sigh. You were happy to know that it wasn’t your bladder acting up.

"Oh, that kinda explains it. But I think it wasn't your drink that caused this the other nights…”

“Other nights?” Wanda echoed in feigned confusion.

“I-I often find myself wet down there," You confided to Wanda who nodded attentively.

Like a lightbulb moment, Wanda seemed to understand. "It's normal. Our vagina does it by nature, as a way of cleaning itself. It's called a discharge, dorogaya."

As you digest Wanda’s words, confidently assuring you, you take one of her hands and lace it with yours — giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I don't know what I would do without you, Wands. All this time I thought something was wrong with me." You nervously chuckled, beyond glad that the case was sorted out.

"That's why I'll always be here for you." Wanda shoots you a pearly smile. She tilted her head, "Now, why don't you change your clothes?" She brought her other hand that carried your clean panties and shorts. 

Though you were grateful, embarrassment filled you again as you took it from Wanda with your head down and moved away from to bed to start changing.

Wanda sat quietly at your bed and peered curiously over your timid movements. Unbeknownst to you, she was waiting for whether you'd instruct her to look away as you strip down your ruined shorts and undies. She orchestrated the whole thing after her secret session with you, after all.

"C-Can you look away for a bit, Wands?" You requested, but your timid voice cracked in the process.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "We have the same parts, dorogaya. Besides, I also change in front of you – why does it matter?" She counters and you can't rebut anything else because it is the truth. "I won't judge you. I'm just... impatient to cuddle with you again."

There isn't harm in it, you suppose. Wanda has always been there for you and has proven herself worthy of your trust. So, you affectionately smile at Wanda's needy self.

Your whole back view almost faced your bestfriend, much to her delight — only that her jaw slacked as she got a brief glimpse of your bare ass. Wanda was certain that it was buttery soft just as your hypnotizing breasts were. 

You saw the clear, gooey, and viscous substance that left a mark in the center of your underwear. Your face curled up in a slight grimace. Even if you knew better about it now — all thanks to Wanda — it was somehow still icky for you to look at.

Wanda hands the clean replacements and before you can tug up your new shorts, she pulls you in her direction unexpectedly and brash to your liking.

"Wands– what?" Wanda didn't speak, touched you gently as though you were going to break. Her hand remained on your hips. 

"Hush now, dorogaya. I need to check something." Her tone sounded serious so you let her. Although it felt too intimate, blood immediately came rushing to your ears and cheeks. "I think you need to replace some of them..." 

You try to protest out of timidness, "But—"

"Let me inspect you first. Promise I'll be gentle. It won't be weird," Wanda gave you a condescending smile and you easily caved in.

You feel Wanda everywhere in your body. Her touch was electric on your lower back, the other was too close to your private parts — all wandering. Wanda's fingers came to trace underneath the garter of your underwear. From your pelvis to your innermost thighs, you almost closed your legs shut in reflex.

The air felt ambiguously thick.

Her hands continue to roam around the material — excruciatingly, it was underneath your buttcheek and the pubis area especially, where Wanda’s hands gravitate and wander back onto — doing motions as though smoothening it out.

You let out a sharp inhale and your stomach twitches each time in sync.

"This shouldn't be too hard and tight for you. Not only does it leave marks, but it's uncomfortable, isn't it? The material also is too thin. It's bound to tear off soon." Wanda lists out and all you can think is holy shit, she's right. You weren't confident with your picks when you shopped for them, in all honesty.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure what to pick..." You admit with your eyes looking at your sock-covered feet and your hands clasped in shame.

Besides, you somehow keep on misplacing them. You were baffled by now because you were getting understocked with the amount of undies you had. Where have they all gone?

"Tell you what," Wanda calmly calls your attention and tilts your head up with her hand, "I'd take you to shop some and help you throughout the process so I can teach you too. Don't worry, it's all my treat dorogaya."

Your eyes beamed. You need as much help as you can. "You'll do that for me? But... isn't it too much? I can’t ask that of you.”

"I don't mind, it's not like we do it often. I’m personally offering." Wanda shrugged. She had a point. You'll stop her the next time she insists... maybe in return, you'll do something nice for her.

Sneakily, one of her hands that rested on your lower back descended to your ass cheeks and came in contact to slap them. You sharply gasped and flinched upon the sudden contact, giving Wanda an unamused look. You hoped that she wouldn't detect the fluster in your appearance underneath it.

You didn't understand how it was somewhat satisfying for you. It was a mere play, an act that was nothing more but to tease you — but it felt good against your ass.

You whisper-yelled, calling out her outrageous act.

"Wanda!"

She sports a mischievous smile, her perfect teeth biting down her lower lip. Wanda shook her head and finally raised her hands in defeat.

"Come on! I thrive on riling you up. It's essentially my duty. Now come back and get comfy here in bed. You deserve more sleep. I'll take care of these," She points to the clothes you stripped out of. "And no complaints. I don't mind, I've seen all of you now dorogaya."

"You will be the death of me."

"I love you too," She teasingly replied before disappearing into your view and the words of your best friend made your heart jump.

You groaned in the soft pillow in surrender although it was too much for you — you knew that Wanda's intentions were coming from a good place. She's nothing but thoughtful to you. Soon, the harmony of cold and warmth of your sheets and duvet became too comfortable. You have proven Wanda right and easily succumbed to sleep once again.

Meanwhile, Wanda gathers the polaroid photos she took just a few minutes ago. She closes the door and threw your shorts to the hamper. But your pretty and soaked underwear? It's coming with her.

With the still-damp material of your undies, Wanda strips out her bottoms and sat to the closed toilet seat. She places the fabric over her now exposed pussy; not wasting any time rubbing it against her wet cunt, starting slow, and even thrusting it inside to stimulate and tease her filthy fantasies of you even more. 

God, here she was, touching herself at the thought of you and the photos she had taken of your pretty princess parts. 

Wanda took a good look at it; albeit with much effort as her eyes were threatening to shut at the sensation. It was easy to recall her indecent touches — the feeling of your folds ridiculously soft and unearthly, stretching your labia so she can insert her fingers inside of your opening and how it sucked her in slowly — fuck, you were so tight!

These thoughts spurred Wanda to rub herself with harder pressure and dared to tug and play with her clit — all while covered with your soaked undies. It was somewhat rough against the vulnerable lines and ridges of her labia and provided the undeniably irresistible friction that she craved, doing it repeatedly until Wanda stretched herself out.

It was your cum coating her own pulsating and clenching pussy. She can't help but moan at the thought as she touches herself inside these four, cold walls. How Wanda can only wish instead of her fingers, it was your dainty ones. Even better, you're on your knees for her... eyes wide, expectant, and obedient to her orders. You always looked at her in a certain way that made her stomach flip in adoration and glee. In her filthiest imaginations, Wanda is calling the shots, ordering you to go flatten up your tongue like a good girl and to lap her faster—!

Wanda finally cums hard, a guttural low moan tumbling out of her lips. 

Fuck, she got so wet that it seeped out, the woman was sitting in her mess. Gripping and glancing at the jerking-off materials, she couldn't be more proud of herself today. 

Another for her beloved and favorite collection — all thanks to you. 

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Nine.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Ten. The Playlist. Series Masterlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky are holding it together. Until you aren’t.

Pairing - DadsBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - cursing. hospital setting. talk of illness/health issues. panic attack.

Word Count - 3k

Authors Note - I probably sound like a broken record, but… thank you all so much for your patience and support. couldn’t do it without you. can you even believe that next chapter will be chapter ten? thanks for sticking with me. sorry for this rollercoaster of a chapter. there is still more to come - don’t worry!! <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You don’t remember the journey.

One minute, Bucky’s grabbing your hand and bundling you into the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in as your hands shake. The next, he’s undoing your seatbelt, telling you that you’ve arrived as he puts the car in park. You don’t recall speeding across town and into the city. You can’t even think back to the roads flying past in a blur as your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.

The only thing that’s on your mind is your Dad.

You and Buck take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together tightly. When you reach the reception desk, you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Your words have dried up, dissolved and evaporated into thin air. Your soulmate saves you, once again.

“We’re here to see a family member in cardiology. Can you tell us where to go, please?”

The receptionist looks up at you both, before nodding her head in the right direction.

“Follow that hallway, then through the double doors and up the stairs. Go left, and you’ll see the sign.”

You’re on autopilot, heading straight towards the doors. Bucky follows you quickly, throwing a chaste but genuine thanks to the lady behind the desk as he goes.

“Baby,” he calls after you when you reach the top. “Baby, hold on.”

You spin around, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your bottom lip quivers as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your cheek gently.

“Take a breath, please. You’re gonna faint before you get there.”

You inhale as deeply as possible, your lungs only filling to half capacity. You grab onto his hand for a second, squeezing as hard as you can.

“Okay. Breath done. Let’s go.”

You take off down the hallway, leaving Bucky to jog after you. Finding the big blue sign that reads Cardiology, you storm through the doors, looking around frantically. You spot Room 4 and head straight into it.

The room is all white, clinical and clean. There’s sunshine beaming through the window, but it doesn’t seem to warm the space. It’s cold, almost ominous. It makes it hard to breathe.

The bed is empty, crisp sheets tucked tightly into the plastic sides. Your Mom is sat in the chair beside it. She looks small, swallowed by the blue material.

“Mama.”

You don’t recognise your own voice. It’s choked and strangled, foreign to your ears.

She practically jumps up, striding across the room to wrap you in her arms. Inhaling the familiar scent of home, you hug her back as tightly as you can.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in surgery.”

You breathe a half sigh of relief. You’d feared the worst, when you’d walked in and seen the empty bed.

“What happened?”

Bucky’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you both carefully but giving you space. The tone of his voice is calm, collected. He’s holding it together for you.

“I honestly couldn’t understand it all. They were telling me so much information so fast.”

She sits down in the chair while you and Bucky perch on the edge of the bed, facing her.

“It was supposed to just be an appointment, wasn’t it?”

She nods.

“They did the EKG and weren’t happy with the results, so the nurse put us in this room while she waited for the Doctor. Then the Doctor burst in, talking about blockages and bypasses and emergency surgery.”

Her hands are trembling, neatly manicured nails being picked at repeatedly. Bucky reaches over and links his fingers with hers, all grounded and reassuring.

“They put him in a gown,” she continues, “and all of a sudden they were wheeling him away. I can’t even remember what I said, or if I said goodbye or I love you.”

“Mama, you will have said I love you. I promise you that.”

“She’s right, Lori. You will have said exactly the right thing. You always do.”

She squeezes his hand gratefully, taking a deep breath.

“The Doctor said he had a blockage, and they were worried about blood clotting. That’s why they rushed him in. The nurse said she’d update me when she knew anything, but I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You know what Jack’s like,” Bucky laughs. “He’s the toughest guy I know.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, freshen up a little. Call me if a nurse comes in, won’t you?”

You nod, clasping her hand tightly for a moment.

“Promise, Mama.”

She stands up carefully, inhaling before leaving the room. Your posture instantly crumbles, faked bravado leaving you as soon as she’s out of view.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper.

Bucky hears it clear as day.

He slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around your frame. Pressing a kiss into your hair, he runs his fingertips up and down your spine gently.

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re allowed to be scared. But everything is going to be okay. I know it will be.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble into the cotton of his shirt. “It should, but it doesn’t. That scares me, too.”

Bucky traces the features of your face gently with his thumb, his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours. He dances his finger over the slope of your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. His skin is warm and calloused against yours, polar opposite to how cold you feel.

“I’m your soulmate,” he murmurs, “but I’m not a miracle worker. Fuck, I wish I was. There are gonna be some things that I can’t fix for you, no matter how badly I want to. We just have to ride them out together, sweet girl.”

You nod, leaning in to rest your head against his pounding heart.

It still beats to the rhythm of your name. Even after all this time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You don’t jump apart when your Mom walks back in.

Upon first glance, the picture is simple - a girl being comforted by her Dads best friend. A hug. Reassuring words.

If you look closer, the image becomes a little more complicated - her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. His hand cradling the back of her head. Familiar lips softly pressed to her temple.

Any other time, someone might question the sheer intimacy of the moment. But not now.

Now, all focus is drawn to the nurse in sky blue scrubs that appears in the doorway.

“You’re all Jack’s family?”

You all spin to face her, nodding frantically.

“Thought so. He’s out of surgery, and he’ll be brought up here shortly.”

“Is he alright?” your Mom asks, standing up. You can physically see the tension rising in her body.

“He’s doing okay. The Doctor is going to come up and talk to you a little about some… complications. But he’s okay.”

The reassurance at the end of the sentence doesn’t make any of you feel any better. You’re stuck on the word complications.

As if on cue, your Dad is wheeled in, all laid up cosy in crisp white sheets. He has oxygen tucked up under his nose, tubes and wires attached to his hands. He looks fragile, which is a state you’ve never seen him in before. Usually, he’s larger than life, braver than a bear, with a booming laugh that can make anyone smile. In this current moment, he looks like a little boy again, put to bed softly by his mother on a school night.

They get him situated as the Doctor approaches the three of you, huddled by the chair to stay out of the way.

“The surgery went well. The blockage has been fixed, and hopefully shouldn’t reoccur. We’ll put him on medication for the future, blood thinners most likely, to prevent anything further.”

Your Mom nods, lips pressed together.

“The nurse said there was complications?”

Bucky’s voice is low and careful, the timbre of it reverberating next to you.

“We ran into some trouble with the anaesthetic. We struggled to wake him for quite some time, and then his blood pressure completely bottomed out. We managed to get him steady again, but it was a little touch and go for a minute.”

Your Mom sits down slowly, holding onto the arms of the chair with taut knuckles.

“Your husband is going to be just fine, ma’am. We’ll manage any future worries with meds. Some people just don’t respond well to anaesthesia, especially if they’ve never had it before. We’ll monitor him over the next few days, keep him under observation just in case. But it looks positive. I assure you.”

She inhales, leaning back and exhaling the breath.

“He’ll probably just sleep it off for the rest of today, so don’t worry if he’s barely conscious. His body has been through a trauma, and he needs some time to recover.”

You all nod, Bucky’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours momentarily. He subtly presses a kiss into the nape of your neck, as if to melt the tension away.

You all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“If you need anything, there are always nurses walking around on this floor. They’ll call me if necessary.”

She smiles before leaving, picking up her clipboard as she goes.

“Thanks, Doctor!” Bucky calls after her, making both you and your Mom laugh softly.

The three of you remain still for a while, scared to make any sudden moves. Eventually, Bucky stretches his legs.

“I’m gonna grab some coffees. The usuals?”

You both nod at him.

“Be right back. Call me if you need anything.”

You can’t take your eyes off him as he leaves. You miss his warmth instantly.

“He’s a good guy,” your Mom whispers to you from the chair, where you’re perched on the armrest. She’s watching him go too.

You hum in agreement.

“He looks out for you.”

You hum in agreement once again, albeit this time a little quieter.

“You guys are close, these days.”

You inhale calmly.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s got my back.”

“He likes you a lot.”

Before she can continue, your Dads eyes flutter open slowly. You both jump up, standing on either side of his bed.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.”

He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh lighting.

“How you feeling, tough guy?”

He smiles softly, and the relief that fills your body is so overwhelming, you feel as if your legs might give out. You hold onto the metal bars of the bed for support, praying you stay upright.

He groans a little, throat hoarse.

“Water?”

Your Mom puts the straw in his mouth, nodding in approval as he sips.

“I’m good,” he croaks. “Got my girls with me.”

You both laugh.

“Jack, as much as I’d love to be your girl…”

Bucky is stood against the doorframe, keeping a careful distance from the family moment. Your Dad chuckles, shaking his head.

“You’re the prettiest one, Buck,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. You all can’t help but laugh even more.

“How you feeling, honey?”

“Fine. Tired, though.”

“The Doctor said you’d most likely just sleep it off all day. Go back to sleep, if you want to. We’re right here.”

He nods, closing his eyes instantly. Your Mom settles back in the chair as Bucky hands her a coffee. He goes to give you yours, but you place it down on the side table.

“I’m gonna get some air. Be back in a minute.”

He gives you a look that says are you sure?, but you’re already out the door, not glancing back.

“She doesn’t like hospitals.”

Bucky nods in recognition, but can’t focus on anything except the severe levels of rising anxiety in his chest.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.

You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.

Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.

The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.

You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.

Suddenly, there are two strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into a solid chest. You relax against it, tired of fighting.

“It’s me, baby. Shit, it’s me.”

The voice is panicked, almost frantic in the way it hits your ears. There’s a hand stroking over your hair, strumming over your cheekbone, squeezing your shoulder. You wonder for a second if anyone has ever died from something like this. You feel as if you’re pretty close.

“You’ve got to start slowing your breathing, honey. Can you hear me?”

You think you nod. You assume you do, because the voice continues.

“Put your hand on my heart,” he says as he does it for you. “Just like that. Can you feel the beat of it, underneath your palm? It sounds like a drum, right? One two, one two, one two. Can you focus on it?”

You try to hone into the sound. You think you might be able to distantly feel it, where your hand meets his shirt.

“How about if we create a pattern together? And we’ll both follow it? Like this.”

The voice tilts your chin upwards, so you’re looking into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you choke out.

“Breathe when I breathe, okay? In, and out,” he inhales and exhales. “In, and out. There we go, atta girl. In, and out. You got it.”

You stay collapsed on the sidewalk for what feels like hours, breathing when he tells you to. You focus your vision on his ocean blue irises, finding your home in them. Eventually, you feel like you’re somewhat filling your lungs, and the world stops spinning.

“There she is.”

You drop your head onto his chest, warm tears soaking into the material of his shirt.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You finally let yourself relax, sagging against his body as he holds you close.

“Fuck, you scared me. Are you hurt?”

You don’t even know the answer to that question yourself.

Bucky starts checking you over, looking for any visible injuries. When he reaches your knees, he inhales sharply.

“Shit, baby. We’ll have to get some antiseptic on these grazes of yours. You’ll have some badass bruises tomorrow, tough girl.”

You realise, slowly, where you are. You’re on the sidewalk outside the hospital, sat on the floor, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. You try to stand up too quickly, and wobble backwards.

“Woah, easy. There we go. Come sit over here with me.”

There’s a wooden bench not far from the entrance, tucked in between a hedge and a flowerbed. You take a seat, surveying the bloody mess of your knees as you do.

“They look worse than they are, baby. Promise. We’ll fix them when we go back upstairs.”

You rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you and tugs you into his side.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”

“Don’t like hospitals,” you whisper. “Never have.”

“Is there… any particular reason? Or is it just one of those things?”

“Spent a lot of time here when I was younger,” you admit quietly. “I was kind of a sick kid. Had my own set of issues. Lots of appointments and stuff.”

Bucky nods against the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.

“You never mentioned anything.”

“Didn’t think it was relevant.”

He hums.

“I’m sorry,” you confess. “For causing a scene. Being dramatic.”

“Honey,” he scolds. “You’re not dramatic. We’ve all got our fears, the things that make us tick. I promise you, no one thinks you’re dramatic. You feel how you feel, and that’s okay.”

You sigh in defeat, pulling your knees up under your chin.

“I think I was holding it together until I saw he was okay. When I knew he was fine, I just… crumbled.”

“That’s a perfect reflection of your character, you know. Keeping it together for everyone else.”

You chuckle dryly.

“Maybe. I suppose.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The two of you sit outside for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in each others embrace.

“We should probably go back up. They’re going to wonder where we are.”

You go to stand up, but Bucky pulls you back down onto the bench.

“Honey, wait. There’s something we need to… talk about, before we go.”

You turn to face him, and instantly tense up. He looks worried.

“Buck, what is it?”

“I… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Or how we’re meant to handle this. I really, really don’t know what the best angle is here.”

“You’re scaring me,” you say as you cradle his face. His scruff tickles your palm, and any other time, you both would have laughed.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[cc--2224]

I'll Show You Heaven

Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader

Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair

Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Word Count: ~6.4k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 

You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.

You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.

You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 

He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 

And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 

You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.

"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"

You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 

Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 

He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 

"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 

"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.

"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?

Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 

Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.

You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 

Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 

"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.

"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."

The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.

You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.

He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 

"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.

You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 

You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.

He hummed in response.

"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.

"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.

— — —

“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.

Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.

“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”

“Again,” Tech chimed in.

“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 

“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 

His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”

The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.

Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 

“No promises.”

He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.

This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.

But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 

The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 

Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 

He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 

He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 

He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.

He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 

As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 

This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.

He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.

But would it be so bad if you did? 

— — —

Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 

Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 

He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 

"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.

He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."

He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."

You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."

Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."

"Did the Reg apologize to you?"

"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.

"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.

"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."

He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."

Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.

"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 

"Crosshair." 

You smirked then told him yours. 

"Where's the rest of your squad today?"

"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."

He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.

You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.

"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 

You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.

Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.

You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 

You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.

— — —

Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 

It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.

You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 

"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.

"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."

He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.

"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."

He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 

Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.

You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.

He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.

"What are you doing?" 

"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."

He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."

"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.

"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.

"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."

He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."

"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."

"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.

"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”

He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.

“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.

He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.

“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.

He walked back over to you, “Of course.”

He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.

"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.

"You sure?" 

You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.

He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.

He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.

"Make yourself at home." You told him.

He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 

"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 

You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.

"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."

He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  

"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"

"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."

You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.

"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.

"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 

You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 

His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.

"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.

"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”

His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 

He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.

Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 

Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.

His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.

His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.

"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 

You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 

You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.

He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.

"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."

His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."

"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."

"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 

You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 

When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.

He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 

When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.

He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.

"Come here," you said, your voice low.

He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.

"Closer." You breathed. 

He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.

"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.

"Yes, please, Crosshair." 

He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.

You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 

He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.

He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.

Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.

"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.

"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.

"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 

His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.

His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.

"Say it again." He said against your centre.

"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.

"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.

"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.

He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.

You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.

You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.

"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 

He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.

His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.

"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."

He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.

Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."

His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.

It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.

He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.

“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.

He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 

“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”

His cock twitched against his jeans.

“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.

“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 

Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 

You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.

“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.

Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.

You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.

“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.

You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 

You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”

Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 

“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 

“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.

You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.

He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 

You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 

“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 

You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 

You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.

His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.

“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 

You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.

“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 

You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 

He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.

He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 

“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 

You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.

His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 

“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 

His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.

His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.

“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 

He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.

You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.

“You gonna be good for me?” 

He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.

“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.

Heaven. 

That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 

Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 

You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 

“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 

He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 

You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.

“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.

“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 

You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 

His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 

“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.

His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.

“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.

“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”

You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.

“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 

He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.

“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”

The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.

“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”

“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 

His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.

“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.

He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.

Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 

“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 

You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.

“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.

“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.

“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.

“Please.” 

He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.

“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.

“Hm?”

“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”

You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 

He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.

“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.

“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”

You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.

[branded-rose]

Adam sat upright in bed, a shout on his lips that dropped off as his wings shot out, smacking his lieutenant in the head and nearly pushing her off the mattress.

Lute met the rude awakening with all the urgency it deserved, springing up and drawing her fists in front of her defensively as Adam let loose a string of profanity.

She quickly drew up the blind to let light into the room before she darted around the bed; her eyes scanning the room quickly for signs of danger even if she knew there shouldn’t be anything. 

It was Heaven. What threat would there realistically be?

When she was satisfied she returned to the bed, about to ask her superior officer what sick joke he was pulling when she stopped.

Adam was pale, his hands trembling as he brought them up to wipe cold sweat from his brow. A string of curses still fell from his lips, albeit strained.

She tentatively reached a hand out, placing it gently on his shoulder.

“Uh… Sir?”

Adam flinched, turning his head to meet Lute’s concerned expression. He forced a smile and shrugged, trying his very best to play the whole thing off.

“What? Just a nightmare. Geez you’re acting like we’re being attacked or something. @#$%#@ relax.” He forced a laugh and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Lute fell silent a moment, examining her commander closely. It wasn’t often she saw him so… uncertain. So shaken. Even in times he was unsure of himself he typically covered it up with bravado.

She scooted closer, pushing on his shoulder to encourage him to turn so she could realign some of the golden feathers in his wing that had dislodged when he’d struck her.

“What was it about?” Her fingers very delicately and precisely moved over the wing, sliding the feathers back into place and easing any discomfort. Something that was visible as she watched Adam’s posture relax.

“Just… human stuff. You wouldn’t get it.” He ran a hand through his messy hair.

“I was human once too.”

“Yeah well-“ He scratched the back of his neck, agitated. “-You wouldn’t get it. And besides that was @#$%#@ forever ago.”  

“You were an angel hundreds of years before I was.” Lute retorted.

“Yeah… and? What’s your @#$#@% point?”

The exorcist felt her eyebrow twitch, yanking on his wings to pull him towards her.

“You’re not the only one who understands the horrors of living.”

Adam paused for a long moment, considering his lieutenant’s words ever so briefly before turning so their faces were just inches apart. 

His expression softened. “I thought you were ‘reborn’?”

“I was.”

“So then when was the last time you had a nightmare?”

Lute’s jaw opened only to close again. She hadn’t had a nightmare in decades. Or if she had she couldn’t recall what it was exactly. Certainly nothing to startle her awake.

He turned away from her, pulling back briefly to rub his face.

“That’s what I thought. Must be nice.”

She watched him for an additional moment before she got up and closed the blinds, allowing the room to fall back into darkness.

“You should go back to sleep.” She uttered softly, her chin grazing against his shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh… yeah.” He waited for her to get comfortable before he drew close, his arms and wings wrapping around her small frame, almost protectively.

Possessively.

Lute settled into the embrace, familiar and warm as it was. She couldn’t help but smirk softly as she rested her chin on top of his head, his ear against her chest.

“Hey… Lute. You… won’t betray me or whatever, right?” He muttered softly, his tone laced with uncertainty.

Lute’s brows furrowed slightly, confused by the suddenness of the question.

“Of course not, Sir.” Her grip on him tightened ever so slightly, a small smile on her lips.

“…I wouldn’t dare.”

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

Idea/prompt from the amazing @kimik0hippie! Seriously, their stuff singlehandedly inspired me to come out of my 800000 year hiatus and actually do illustrations again. So please go check their art out. ;D

Adam & Lute © Vivziepop/A24

Artwork © Branded-Rose

[cumbunnywitch]

I've seen at least one, but posts saying not to blame the people who didn't vote for Harris because whatever are fully in the wrong and they always will be.

You chose moral high grounding and purity culture over the possibility that our protests would work. You chose "she leaned too right in her campaign" over "Trump and the people who want to puppeteer him are going to get a lot of people killed." You chose the democrats being idiots over the republicans want a racist rapist.

You didn't choose? No, you had a choice. You used yours. If you chose not to vote because you wanted to use your non-vote as a voice to show the democrats that they have to win your vote, you're still going to get your face eaten by the leopards. They aren't going to hear you anyway.

Protests work on the left side of our shit-ass two party system because they at least pretend to care.

Here's just, off the top of my head, the things you decided were less important than telling the democratic party "No you have to be good enough":

Student Loan Forgiveness or Relief

Healthcare

Trans Rights

LGBTQIA Safety

Abortion rights

Palestine/Gaza

Ukraine

Industry Regulation(notice all those recalls on food lately?)

Cost of Living

Police Reform

Taxes

There's no such thing as a single-issue voter, not anymore. The right is diametrically opposed to making any of the above better for anyone, whether or not they voted for that shitstain, unless you're very rich, and very white, and a very straight man.

Honestly, if you voted for Jill Stein, at least you fucking voted. Her numbers won her absolutely nothing but at least you voted.

But no. "Don't vote for Harris because she's not good enough! She's running a campaign to secure moderate republicans!" Yea no fucking shit. That's what they've been doing for the last forever. Yea, it still sucks. But most moderate liberals who actually vote still struggle with that list up there. There's literally a democrat trans woman who just got voted in who wants to support Israel's genocidal campaign of murdering every Palestinian.

And you know what? If she sees that line, she might actually stop and think and move a little bit over to my perspective. Every conservative sees that line and immediately thinks "Yea kill the fuckin' brown people!" because they don't consider them fucking people.

If you didn't vote because you saw people saying Harris wasn't leftist enough, not liberal enough, she was a former prosecutor or the democrats haven't done enough for you in the last 4 years, you fell for the Russian psyop. You fell for the propaganda.

Does it suck that Harris wanted to court the swing states and their moderately conservative voting base over to vote for the first woman president? Yea, it's been a shitty idea for decades and they've been doing it for as long as I've been voting. Obama was the center-ist centerist ever, and he still got healthcare reform passed. He also drone striked a lot of people and gave banks billions of dollars when the financial sector faceplanted after trying to balance on a pin for the longest time.

I was gonna add a read-more or chop this up better but no. You get to read the whole thing. If you didn't vote, or you voted for trump, I want you gone. Unfollow me, block me, because you clearly either don't care enough to prevent our slide into authoritarianism and a fixed court for the next 60 years, or you actively hate me.

[purinfelix]

hi!! I really love your work! I was wondering if you could do one where Gavi and the reader hate each other, but one day the reader had nobody to turn to so for some reason she found comfort with Gavi if that makes sense

i don't want to talk about anything ₊˚⊹ - pablo gavi

pairing: (academic rival) gavi x reader w/c: 1.5k a/n: ANON i love this idea and im sorry its been sitting in my inbox for so long - i decided to sort of involve it with the academic rivals fic i wrote, since it made sense to me, hope u don't mind! <3

No matter how many times you blinked, the words of your essay refused to stay still on the laptop in front of you, the feeling of your eyes growing tired only adding to your frustration. According to the irritatingly loud clock on the wall, you had been at the university library for almost five hours now, on top of an entire day of lectures and tutorials. Your head ached, and your mouth was dry ever since you had run out of water an hour ago but had been too engrossed in studying to go get more, and every time you closed your eyes you considered falling asleep right there and then. You hadn't even gone insane before, but you were pretty sure this was as close as you were going to get.

Forcing yourself to stand up you tried your best not to dwell on how unprepared you felt for your upcoming finals, or how many assignments you still had to finish. Even with how tired you were, your brain still managed enough energy to stress you out, even as you definitively shut the textbooks you had brought with you. You were more than aware of how childish this was, having thought you'd outgrown your ridiculous study methods years ago. But something about your recent dip in grade, how frustrated and helpless it made you feel, had spurred you into a frenzy you were too far into to stop. You couldn't recall the last spare hour you hadn't spent studying or the last conversation you had that hadn't been about exams.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder you reluctantly left the desk that had been your home for the majority of the evening. After a struggle, you managed to get the library doors open and were immediately. met with the miserably biting cold of the late winter night - the thought of the long trek back to your dorm room acting as salt in the wound. Your hands are already freezing as they dart into your jacket pocket in search of your phone, and you flick it on to check for any response to the many, many texts you had sent to your friends. Most of them were invited to study with you or questions about lectures, but all you were met with was a pathetically empty inbox, the reflection of your own tired face once it switched off, and the stinging realisation of just how isolated you had become, and how lonely you felt. Perhaps it was this, or the howling wind whipping around you, that caused tears to prick up in your eyes as you bit your lip painfully hard to stop them from falling.

You're overcome with a sudden desperation to get back to your dorm as quickly as possible before anyone can see you crying like an idiot. The added barrier of your own fatigue makes this difficult though, and the immense cold doesn't help. Before you know it though you're already halfway there, passing by the campus football court which is still brightly lit and lively despite how late it's getting - a fact you curse as you make out a familiar figure, and the single last person you want to see right now.

Gavi seems to spot you too and even though you hand your head to prevent any more tears, you can hear his loud footsteps as he leaves his friends and game to jog up to you. He calls out your name and the smug tone in his voice is enough for you to will your legs to move faster. When you don't stop, you hear him pause before running up to match your pace.

"Long day at the library, huh?" he jeers, walking beside you and clearly not taking any notice to the fact that you're not in the mood to entertain his ego. Usually, you would've jumped at the opportunity to flex your work ethic in his lazy face but not now, not with how you're feeling. All you wish is for him to leave you alone before he sees you crying and it gives him another thing to make fun of you for - but just as this entire day has turned out, your wishes are far from granted.

"You know, I did notice you've been slacking a little lately. Even I found the last quiz pretty easy and I could tell you struggled with it."

You scoff loudly at his words but don't offer a response in fear of him being able to tell something's off from the quiver you're bound to have. A small part of you does question why he's been paying so much attention to you lately but has little time to when you feel him reach out to grab your hand, suddenly jerking you back and stopping you in your tracks.

Finally, you crane your neck up without thinking and lock eyes with his, and you hear the next comment he was preparing catch in his throat. It happens so quickly that you almost don't notice it, but his smug expression softens immediately and you can almost make out the concern in his eyes once he sees your tear-stricken face. The contrast from the teasing way he normally looks at you is so stark it almost stops the flow of tears from your eyes, and you almost wish it had because now you're standing here sniffling like an idiot, and he's standing there watching you.

"Hey…" he mumbles, and the pity in his voice is enough to make you want to run away, even as he drops your hand. Still, you can tell he's not enjoying the awkward situation any more than you are but is trying his best.

"I'm fine," you blurt out instinctively, messily wiping the stream of tears from your cheeks before laughing - at what you're not entirely sure, but you're desperate for an opportunity to lighten the mood.

"You don't look it," he sounds so mature that it almost takes you aback.

You hang your head, half in shame and half so that you don't have to look into his eyes when you lie. "I'm just really tired."

It's almost irritating how sudden his movements can be and how easily they can catch you off guard, but his athleticism has never blended itself to subtlety. Still, it's hard not to be shocked when he pulls you once more and before you realise it you're enveloped in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. His body still radiates heat from the exercise he was just doing, a fact that you find comfort in. Before you can stop yourself, you're already sinking into his touch, its catharsis being exactly what you needed, but hadn't realised. You wrap your arms back around him and close your eyes as you rest your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heart is bold and quick as you listen to it, and you chalk this up to the exercise as well - an excuse you're not lucky enough to have for your own quickening heart.

He's the first to break the silence. "You're the smartest person I know, you know." He says it barely above a whisper, and he seems to be confessing more to the night sky than to you.

If you had just a little more pride in yourself, you might've met this with one of your usual jabs. Strangely enough though, all signs of the competitive nature you reserve for him have gone missing. Maybe it's because of your surprise that he seems to know exactly what you need to hear, but you're sure it's more because of how tired you are.

"Thank you," is all you can quietly muster up, but given how earnestly it comes out, you hope it'll be enough.

"I don't mean to stress you out, not just now but all the time. I'm sorry for that," he sighs, and you can tell without seeing his face that he really means it.

"It's alright, I appreciate it," you laugh softly, before adding, "sometimes."

He squeezes you a little harder and standing there in his arms, despite how mind-numbingly strange the situation is, you allow yourself to forget about some things for a bit. Forget about how late it is, about all the work you still have to do, about how you're not meant to like him at all, how you're hoping no one you know sees the two of you right now. For just a minute, the two of you share a world you had only gotten teasing glimpses of during your heated conversations in hallways, your quick comparisons after grades get released or quippy comebacks. Only now, not a single word needs to pass between you two - the sound of his beating heart and the strange sense of comfort that falls over you being all you need.

[ladykailitha]

Staking My Claim Part 1

Hello! Because of my flu, I've been working on low stakes stuff to help with my foggy head. I promise this week to be back on to the WIPs I have going to be build up my backlog again.

This started off as a silly "let the boys be goofy" and turned into a "found family with ONE goofy moment in it". Sorry about that. I blame the cough medicine honestly.

***

Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened.

Now, Cora’s Den wasn’t gay bar per se, but as it was one of the most inclusive places in Indy, the normies considered it one.

So when he came back from going to the bathroom he leaned into the center of their table so he could whisper. “Tell me that’s not Steve Harrington at the bar in a crop top and cutoffs.”

All three of his friends turned to the bar as one.

Gareth smacked his lips. “As much as I would love to, man, no can do.”

“And is he really flirting with that dude?” Eddie asked with a wince.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I’m seriously doubting that. Looks like Stevie could use a rescue.”

Eddie turned and looked over. Sure enough the guy that had been flirting with Steve had been replaced by a new guy. And one that didn’t look like he was getting the hint to fuck off.

“Go on,” Brian said. “You know you want to. He’s clearly got a thing for the guys and you might even get laid for the first time in months.”

Eddie nodded curtly and slapped the table. “Right.”

*

Steve was having a good time until this guy came along. He just wouldn’t take no for answer. He wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. His parents had just blown out of town again and Steve was looking for a way to blow off some steam. Relax after the last week of sheer exhaustion of dealing with them and their judgments. He usually went with Robin so that people would leave them alone. Only she had the late shift tonight and the early shift in the morning.

He was going to wait until the weekend when they could both go and have fun, but Robin insisted that he go, otherwise he’d be moping around Family Video all week. So he came out tonight, not really out to get drunk, or laid, just to have a good time.

This was not that.

Suddenly an unopened bottle of his favorite beer was being pressed into his hand as a warm arm wrapped around his waist.

“There you are, baby,” a soft voice cooed. “Sorry I’m late, work was a nightmare.”

Steve let himself relax into the man’s side. “I’m just glad you made it, Eds.”

Eddie grinned at him. “I swear old man Thacher is getting worse in his old age.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right? I went in for an oil change and he berated me for twenty minutes on why couldn’t I just do it myself.”

Eddie frowned. “Don’t you have a BMW that requires a special oil?”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup!”

Eddie turned to look at the guy who was standing there with his mouth open. “Are you still here?”

The guy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was here first.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said, straightening up, but still remained plastered to Eddie’s side. “Eddie Munson. Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin. You know, the band that plays here every weekend?”

“Yup,” Eddie lied easily. “So where’s Birdie tonight? Working the late shift?”

“Ha!” the man snapped. “That’s not his friend’s name. His friend’s name is Robin! I knew you were a fake.”

Eddie blinked at him as if the man had grown three heads. “Robin Buckley. Robin is a bird. Bird plus Buckley, ergo Birdie. I have nicknames like that for all my friends. And any friend of Stevie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s jaw affectionately. “And how did you know what her name was?” he asked, not even looking at the guy. “I don’t think I recall seeing you around before.”

The man’s face paled and he turned on his heel, storming off in a huff.

“Thanks for that,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear. “I’m usually pretty good at getting assholes to lay off, but he wouldn’t take no for answer.”

“Your inner mean girl couldn’t make him go away?” Eddie whistled. “That is persistent.”

Steve giggled. Then he blushed and looked down. That was when he remembered the drink in his hand. “So what’s with the unopened beer?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was another creep by bringing you an open bottle.”

Steve looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “Wow, you really are my knight in leather armor tonight.”

Eddie took the bottle and popped it open with his bulky ring on his middle finger. “There you go.”

“That was so hot,” Steve said stupidly.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

*

Steve was invited back to their table and had an absolute blast.

He was coming back from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hands when someone bumped into him, almost making him spill the drinks.

“Hey, watch it!” he hissed.

Immediately Eddie was at his side in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked taking a couple of the drinks from him.

“Yeah,” Steve groused. “Just some asshole not watching where he was going. I didn’t even get a drop on my shoes.”

Eddie snickered. “Yeah, okay. You and your jock reflexes.”

Steve leaned over and whispered, “I’m also very flexible in bed.”

“As in top or bottom or are we talking positions?” Eddie asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

“Both.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “No need to go so hard, baby. I was already wanting to take you home with me tonight.”

“What about your friends?” Steve asked grinning back. “It sounded like you all share the apartment.”

“We have a signal for if we bring anyone back,” Eddie assured him. “Also we know to keep it down because the apartment walls are thin and not just inside the apartment.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O. “I got you.”

He knew there were pros and cons to living in an apartment. Having your neighbors that close were definitely a con.

“You still living at home?” Eddie asked as they made their way through the crowd.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like my parents are ever there. Though it would just be my luck that they’d come home while I’m out the queerest bar in Indy.”

“Not a fan of queers?” he asked once they reached the table.

“They’re fans of Reagan,” Steve said with a grimace. “I’m pretty sure that automatically puts them on the opposing team.”

The entire table recoiled in sympathy.

“Fuck, that’s harsh!” Jeff said. “Thankfully my parents aren’t Reagan supporters, though they have raised many an eyebrow at Eddie here.”

Eddie face turned into a feral grin.

Brian shrugged. “My parents don’t care as long Eddie doesn’t shove it down their throats.”

Steve rolled his eyes. That old nugget. Walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same gender was shoving it down their throats as far as they were concerned.

Gareth looked at his friends wide eyed. “Um...sucks to be you guys I guess, but my parents adore Eddie, don’t mind him or I being gay and threatened to sue the school over the devil worshiping allegations about our D&D club. So...”

“Three cheers for the Hughes family!” Eddie said.

They all cheered and clanked their glasses together. They downed their drinks and roared with unrestrained joy.

Steve could feel a rush of blood around his ears. The room faded in and out and it sounded like Eddie and his friends were under water. He staggered off his stool and nearly stumbled to the floor.

Then the world went black.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Also I'm not sure if this post canon or no monster AU. I can't decide, but it's ambiguous either way.

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[delirious-donna]

Demon In The Mirror [Sebastian Michaelis]

an: this is a rework of an old fic for a different character/fandom. I liked this fic idea and lovely Sebby really fit it, or at least I think so! I've been hyperfixated on the world's best butler so this scratched an itch for me.

pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x female reader

warnings: canon Sebastian, mirror sex, rough touching, praise, light degradation, biting, mark marking, dirty talk, pussy fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mentions of blood (tiny)

Masterlist

A mirror–polished and unassuming as it stood in the corner of the room. It never lied, never hid the truth behind a veil of deceit. All it could do was reflect what it hungrily absorbed.

Truth laid bare for all who peered into its depths. The reflection of not only your physical reactions–the jerk of your limbs, soft quiver of your stomach–but your emotions poured into the surface and were somehow magnified back. Magic, perhaps?

On its own, the mirror was a beautiful thing, decoratively ornate and standing on claw feet. You gazed into it every morning to peruse your outfit and ensure your hair was coiffed exactly as intended. However, when you added what was showing on the calm surface at this moment, the mirror became a truly magnificent beast.

Two bodies entwined in a lover’s embrace.

Every detail was laid bare in exquisite detail, and this outcome was entirely your doing. Slender fingers with midnight nails flexed deliberately into your jaw, testing the strength you had long known against the delicate frame of your mortal body. The angle forced you to stare straight ahead, to witness what was happening to you in such clarity it stole the little air remaining from your lungs.

“You wanted this, did you not?” He lilted with an air of amusement that curled your toes. “I believe you were rather forthright with your desires this evening, at least you were once I coaxed them out of you.”

Sebastian Michaelis, the head butler and right-hand man to your father was a demon. As the eldest daughter in the family and well into your twenties, you were an anomaly to your father. He would have married you off years ago if it weren’t for your ability to chase away every suitor that called. The only person who had been able to get close to you was Sebastian if you could even call him a person. Except, you liked that he wasn’t human—humans were boring.

You cared not for whatever mysterious and demonic bond had been formed between him and your father. All that mattered was that he saw the real you beneath the prickly exterior you presented to the world. It had taken many months of flirtatious glances, heated whispers promising you all manner of carnal pleasure and touches that only grew in intimacy, but you considered Sebastian to be your lover for close to half a year now.

The only problem… he treated you with kid gloves.

“Sebastian… You know, it would be okay if you held me a bit tighter. If you wish to, that is.”

That was what had started it all, the words that led to this path of twisted pleasure. 

You recalled the delicate touch of white-gloved fingers, how they curled around your biceps to draw you into his lap. His carefully fastened tie and top buttons were messily undone by your hasty fingers and his midnight hair was just the tiniest bit dishevelled from where you had brushed through it.

The demon gently pawing at you was more than capable of tearing people apart with his hands, the white of his gloves rarely soiled by the crimson remnants of the deaths he bestowed, and yet he held you as if you were fine china. Didn’t he know that the times you bore witness to his feats of strength had resulted in ruined undergarments beneath your gown? He was a sight to behold, tall and lithe with a presence that demanded respect despite being a servant by occupation. What you wouldn’t give for him to direct some of that power and strength towards you, on those intimate late-night visits to your quarters.

“But, my dear, you are so soft. I wouldn’t wish to hurt you.” The sentiment was huffed into the sweet crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin whilst he smeared lazy, wet kisses to your jaw and the pulse hammering beneath the surface. It sounded almost bemused, and that irritated you.

You were no porcelain doll only to be taken out when it suited and arranged delicately upon pristine sheets. You were no silly girl. You were a woman, goddammit, and you wished above all else to be treated as such. Apparently, your expression gave away your frustration, either that or Sebastion was simply well-tuned to the emotions swirling in your complex mind.

“Have I said something wrong, darling girl?”

With today’s gown laid neatly atop your dresser, the petticoats beneath bunched around your thighs and hips, you sat back on your haunches to glower at him. His finger idled with the lace fastens of your bodice, doing little to stop you from moving away from his embrace.

A petulant huff passed your lips, arms folded across your chest, and his easy smile dimmed in response. It should have been your first warning, but ire had a way of dulling your senses to danger. 

“I will remind you that I am not made of glass, nor will I break if you…” The remaining words of your tirade seemed to become stuck in the back of your throat as your gaze met with Sebastian’s. The subtle carmine of his irises caught fire, glowing coals of ember that spoke of something… unknown? Worryingly unknown.

Maybe you had misspoken, your tone a little more harsh than you intended but it was too late to remedy. Your shoulders sagged, your body deflating rapidly from the hot air that filled you only moments ago. 

The room charged with electricity, you could feel it press atop your head like a physical manifestation of a weight trying to crush you against your bedspread. Something was most assuredly wrong and it wouldn’t be long before you found out the consequences of your little outburst.

“If I what?” he hissed from between gritted teeth, white and gleaming.

Your eyes snapped to his face, and the stark lines of displeasure traced his cheekbones and brow. No longer were you gazing into the face of Sebastian, your lover, this was the demon that lurked beneath. The one you longed for and were going to suffer his wrath no matter if you tried to back peddle or not.

He sat up straight with a start, forcing you further back and almost tumbling you right out of his lap. A palm anchored around your wrist, tightening against the fragile tendons until they nearly popped and wrenching you forward until you were nose to nose. His breathing was harsh, your own picking up pace to match it perfectly. For a moment you thought he would speak but after many moments of staring back and forth, he pushed back and looked towards the periphery. 

With a precision no man or demon should have, he caught the fingertip of his virginal white gloves between his teeth and slowly pulled each one free in turn. You squirmed watching him reveal his hands, the intricate design that you always did your best to ignore caught your attention but it was quickly stolen away.

That same hand shot forward to wrap around your hair, yanking on the length in one swift motion until your roots tugged painfully and your throat bared in front of his eyes. The breathless whine you expressed sounded truly pathetic, only matched by the arousal pooling in your underwear.

“Hm, so you won’t break if I do this?”

Sebastian reared back and bit around the slender column of your throat, not enough to break the skin but it hurt—it hurt bad enough to spark tears in your eyes. The sweep of his hot, wet tongue licked across the mark he made, tracing the indents his teeth had created along with a low grunt that sounded from the depths of his chest.

Cool, nimble fingers reached into the front of your bodice, teasing against your heated flesh before rending the garment clean in two. The noise of expensive fabric ripping thundered in the room and you gasped at the sudden chill covering your naked breasts. 

It was hard to navigate the sudden flip in his demeanour, although you had all but asked for it. You braced your trembling hands over the lapels of his double-breasted jacket in an attempt to find grounding and solace, but there was none to be found. It appeared that your demon lover was bowing to your whims, you should be pleased, and yet there was a beat of trepidation in your heart. What had you let yourself in for?

As if sensing your wayward conviction, Sebastian moved with alarming ease to the edge of the bed. It was evident that your added weight meant nothing to him, and that alone made you moan into the shell of his ear.

He placed you down in a puffy cloud of your petticoats and stood to shrug out of his jacket and waistcoat but annoyingly left his shirt in place. It didn’t stop you from ogling him openly, knowing what lay beneath even if it was rare to spend the night with him completely nude.

A finger and thumb pinched into the fat of your cheeks, lifting your gaze from the blatant lust-filled staring to meet his eyes that had mellowed to a sparkling fuschia. He was so pretty, so devastatingly pretty that you clung to his wrist, blinking up at him with heat-filled cheeks.

“You will direct your eyes up here, and wherever I instruct, is that clear?”

Only when he was satisfied he had captured your attention and you had given your clear understanding did he release the grip of his fingers, settling beside you. He patted his lap in invitation and you were crawling before he could even raise a sleek black eyebrow.

Smooth palms decorated your sides, pausing to grope your breasts. Sebastian exhaled a laugh when the excess spill from your breasts squished between his splayed fingers, pebbled nipples grazing the hearts of his palms. You whined and rocked against the bulge beneath his tailored trousers, only feeding the frenzy of his wandering hands and how roughly he was exploring your smooth skin. It was a perfect storm of demonic lust and ardent excitement, the result of which resided in the pit of your stomach. You were drooling between your thighs, flushed by the thought of it and you knew he’d tease you when he discovered how wet you were.

“A needy little thing, aren’t you? Darling, surely you aren’t this desperate for my cock?” His hand was beneath the plumes of petticoats, zeroing in on your soaked panties before you could blink. Sebastian tsked whilst his finger stroked the sizeable wet stain that traced the length of your slit. “Deary me, you’re already soaked. One might think that this side of me excites you.”

Without warning, he bounced you from his knee, your feet found the plush rug by your bed but your balance was not to be trusted and you were thankful for the firm hands at your waist keeping you steady. That was until those ruthless hands were twisted in your petticoats and tugging them down your legs to pool around your twisting feet, followed by the sudden removal of the final piece of clothing.

You tried to shield your modesty–an arm slung across your breasts and a hand cupping your sex whilst stepping out of your panties when suddenly you were dwarfed by Sebastian’s taller frame. He appeared even taller than usual, though you weren’t sure if it was an illusion aided by the long shadows cast by the candles on your bedside.

A mere flick of his wrist and your hand dislodged from protecting your decency. He stepped right into your personal space to force his hand exactly where yours had once been and began to dig deeper. Your nails scrambled against the stiff white starch of his shirt, blinking up at him much too fast whilst he took no care to spread you apart with his fingers.

“A-ah, Sebastian!”

Again, he tsked you and clicked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment when a slick covered finger rose into your vision, sparking a fresh wave of heat in every inch of your body.

“Clean it off like a good girl,” he cooed, his voice dripping in honeyed sweetness that you did not trust.

This was not something you had participated in before, but you were determined to meet the challenge in his eyes and earn a sliver of praise that would bow your spine. The taste was surprisingly sweet, a little heavy on your tastebuds but you sucked the long digit between your lips and twirled your tongue around and around to better understand why Sebastian so loved to lay between your thighs and indulge.

He patted your head affectionately, lowering his hand to caress your cheek and smirked when you turned your face to press a kiss to his palm. Unknown to you his attention had snared on the standing mirror in the far corner of your bedroom, eyeing it with first curiosity and then wicked amusement.

You were uncertain why he was interested in the mirror, leaving you by the bed naked and vulnerable, to examine the gold-gilded frame and moving it with ease towards you. What on Earth..?

“What are you–?”

Sebastian cut you off, turning you roughly and sitting with you on full display for the mirror. It made you uncomfortable to see yourself this exposed, you barely looked at yourself in this state whilst bathing or dressing so to see the thick strands of lust hanging from your parted lips was jarring. A sensation writhed in your chest, a mixture of embarrassment mingling with a little pride. Your demon that stared from over your shoulder was here of his own free will, no contract or binding bid him to your side and that was an empowering thought.

He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to your flushed cheek. “I am merely doing what you asked of me. You wished me to hold you tighter and be used like a pretty whore for the night, so I am doing just that.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Ah, but you may as well have, my darling. Your body speaks far more readily than your mouth and I can hear it loud and clear.”

Before he had finished speaking, his thumb found your eager little pearl, stroking around and around in maddening circles without touching it directly. Sebastian shuffled beneath you and you felt the blunt tip of his cock trace along your cunt for the first time that night. 

A thread of power pulled through the length of your spine, straightening it and you knew deep down that it was his doing. Your eyes flickered to his blazing ones, biting your lip enough to cause blood to bead. A heated kiss cleaned the offending crimson from your plump bottom lip. The scene was like nothing you could ever dream of. No book or play could conjure such images. It was enough for sweat to roll from your temples and he hadn’t even slipped inside yet.

“Can you see what I see?” He cooed, stroking the curve of your jaw with his thumb.

You weren’t sure you did. Sure, you were a carnal feast for the eyes but wouldn’t any woman be in this position? Evidently, he disliked your silent uncertainty.

“A strong woman who stood against her family and chose to take a demon as a lover instead of marrying into dazzling wealth.”

Your chin rose as the words hit home, the cool ferocity of his tone enough to make you clench around nothing but air and the promise of what was to come.

“You are mine. No one else could hope to take you from me. I speak these words now and I will die by them. Mine. Do you understand?”

Nodding weakly, you watched his features twist in the reflection of the mirror. The desperate hunger and possession stoked the fires of the demon. It was at that moment that he pushed the bulging tip into your leaking cunt, pushing deeper past the tight ring of muscles with an exalted sigh of triumph. Sebastian held you still, fingers gripping the meat at your waist to prevent you from trying to run from the stretch you were sure to be experiencing.

It only took one forceful rut of his hips to sheath himself halfway, forcing your silken walls apart, to accept him as you always did. The remaining air from your lungs expired from the sudden pressure and overwhelming feeling of fullness.

Steady hands braced on the inside of your knees to prevent you from closing your thighs and it only made your whimpers sound all the more desperate. You were met with a warning growl directed into your ear, fiery pain following from the sharp teeth that tore at your shoulder until the marks were clear in the watery image in the mirror.

You blinked through tears, struggling in the clutches of a beast you had never mated with before. This was different, and you knew that when he stroked himself to the hilt in your cunt, he felt bigger, wider even, and the tip of his cock knocked painfully at your cervix.

It was near impossible to keep your eyes open, not when they were filled with unspilled tears and your head and heart were pounding from the lack of movement. Scrunching your eyes closed was natural when all you wanted to do was roll your hips and surrender to the build of friction but you couldn’t.

“Watch.” He demanded, wetting two fingers in his mouth and smacking them against your jumping clit as punishment for daring to close your eyes. “This is what you wanted and you’ll see just how rough I can be.”

Here you were. Nude and being used for pleasure. Wrapped in a strong embrace that forced you to witness what you had brought about. Expert fingers pinched at your tender nipples and rolled the taut buds between finger and thumb whilst the other hand abused your puffy clit.

Your body trembled as another orgasm neared–you had no idea what number this one was and it certainly wasn’t the first.

“Oh. Oh, fuck.”

The words tumbled out in velvet tones, eliciting a dark chuckle from Sebastian. He delighted when you cussed, knowing that your usual etiquette was entirely lost and your decency stolen away by how he fucked your pliant body.

With every new wave of pleasure, you understood more and more about the monster holding you tight and you didn’t believe you could love him any more than you did right now. He could destroy you without so much as breaking a sweat and yet he chose to hold you like this. Yes, it was rougher than ever before but you knew there was still a gentleness to his ministrations.

This demon had found a mortal interesting enough that for the first time in his long existence, he had no desire to ever see his contract fulfilled. 

His pistoning hips stopped; twitching cockhead buried against your cervix and the pulsing veins that ran the length of his thick shaft throbbed for release. He had assaulted the softy tissue buried behind your clit for long enough, it was time for him to find release too.

You were witnessing the birth of a million stars–a fucking cosmos--behind your eyelids as Sebastian massaged your insides in slow, deliberate circles. Every time you found the reflection in the mirror and met his potent stare, it made you whimper and rut even harder against him.

He was close, you could feel it with every laboured breath at the nape of your marked neck.

“What a picture you make, my dear, one I would love to hang in my room. You are all blissed out and ready for me to spill. Should I cum inside or paint your pretty stomach?”

Your head fell to his shoulder, and for the first time, he let you take your eyes off the show in front of you. Instead, he narrated it to you and that was almost worse. The seductive silky smooth tone of his words heated your blood beyond the boiling point.

“Oh my... look at this thick creamy ring around my cock… I could watch your pretty pussy drool over me all day.”

With a final shove of his hips, jets of heat coated your walls and you were spared from the embarrassment of begging for him to cum inside you. Sebastian grunted into your neck, the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin and the continued lazy pumps deep in your cunt tripped you over the cliff edge and into freefall.

Boneless, panting and mind blank except for the pleasure, your dazed eyes lifted to stare at the mirror.

Hair as black as a starless sky fell over your shoulder, strong arms clinging to your midriff and a mixture of viscous arousal dripped from between your trembling thighs.

Flushed and shivering, you bit your lip at the sight—your demon in the mirror.

[throatgoat4u]

will you be my valentine?

word count: 1.5k

summary: matt's made a valentine, but for who?

warnings: none!

a/n: happy valentine's day lovelies! hope you guys are having an amazing, amazing day! this one is actually surprisingly proofread and so it's probably better than most fiics i put out cause like i don’t proofread…. this is based of this comic. um so yeah… enjoy!

toodles {lovers} ♡

today was valentine’s day and just like every other year, you didn’t have a valentine. it wasn’t that nobody had asked you—plenty of people did—but you turned them all down because you were convinced that this was going to be the year. matt was going to ask you to be his valentine.

“this is the year, guys. i can feel it,” you declare, beaming with excitement.

“i don’t know cutie. you’ve been saying that ever since we were in pre-school. we’re in college now,” violet says with a sigh, earning a nod from patty.

“well… well, this year is different. this year, my gut is telling me.” you insist as you run around the room, trying to find your lucky blue ribbon. of course, you had plenty of blue ribbons to choose from, but this one was special—it was the ribbon matt gave you on your eighth birthday. ever since then, you have worn it on the most important days—birthdays, exams, finals—and it never failed to bring you good luck. you can’t recall a single time that you’ve failed an exam while wearing it (though, to be fair, you’re really smart… but the ribbon makes more sense).

“what are you looking for?” patty asks, a bit concerned as you toss things around in search for the object. 

“my ribbon.”

“cutie… this one?” patty sighs, holding up your lucky ribbon from the vanity. 

“oh… yeah… that one.” you mumble, snatching it from patty’s hand and tying it into a bow at the end of your braid.

after your classes, you head over to the sturniolo house, like always. at this point, it’s a ritual—for (both)  you (and matt)—that you show up and yap about absolute nonsense. you skip up to the door and give it a quick knock. commotion erupts from inside, making your eyebrows knit together in confusion. what the hell is going on? you wait for a moment, until their mother—mary lou—opens the door. she wipes her hands over her apron as she greets you with a hug.

“cutie! i’m so glad you could make it. come inside,” she says quickly, ushering you inside and closing the door behind you. “please excuse the mess—i was making cookies, but someone decided it was a good idea to start a food fight,” she mutters, hooting a stern look at her youngest son, chris.

“hey! i didn’t start it! nick hit me first and i just hit him back with food.”

“don’t put the blame on me! you started it and don’t you even dare lie.”

“nuh uh.” chris says sassily, his hand on his hip, shaking his pointer finger. this definitely set nick off as he began to chase chris around the kitchen. you turn to mary lou, absolutely astonished. you’d seen the boys like this—considering you grew up with them—but the amount of things that just happened barely even rendered through your brain. the kitchen looks like it got invaded by the pillsbury doughboy. nick is covered in flour, chris is drenched in some sort of mystery jam, and mary lou is a mixture of both. to top it all off, they’re running around like feral animals. it feels like you’re watching a live action tom and jerry episode before your eyes right now.

“i- wha- am i- did you- huh!?!” is all you manage to stutter out. mary lou just smiles and shakes her head. 

“they must have eaten something different because i swear they’ve been off their rockers all day. even matt. i saw him making a valentine card for someone. cutie, when i tell you i was beyond shocked. matt has never once in his life done anything romantic for any girl and swore he would never. i just feel like he’s finally found someone and i can’t be more happy.”

“pardon?!?!” you exclaim, a hint of excitement but also nervousness. that valentine could be for you, but it could also be for another girl. well, it can’t be for another girl, it has to be for you. you are his future wife after all.

“yeah, i mean he even looked excited,” she says, a twinkle in her eyes. she’s never ever expected matt to find someone since he was so obsessed with his piano, but she couldn’t be happier that he did. “ hey, why don’t you go check on him now? i bet you could find out who his secret valentine is?” she teases, wiggling her eyebrows and nudging your side slightly. 

you shrug softly, thinking about it, though you knew what your answer was going to be. “yeah… maybe i should.” you turn on the balls of your feet and made your way upstairs. you get to the door of the piano room and knock softly. from the other side, you can hear matt playing a soft melody, one you recognize to be the moonlight sonata. not that you genuinely care to remember, but because matt always gets mad at you for mislabeling it and is always screaming at you about it. gosh, the anger issues that kid has could make the hulk look like a meditation instructor. when he doesn’t answer the door, you knock harder, starting to lose your patience with the kid. but to your dismay, he starts to play louder.

at this point you’re frustrated. you know he hears you knocking. it’s rude to ignore your future wife when she’s knocking at the door, it’s like… common knowledge. you knock a little louder and he starts playing a little louder. you huff, finally at your wits end, and open the door, letting yourself in. you make you way to the piano, your little kitten heels clicking against the floor. matt glances at you, drinking you in for a second. your little blue dress, you white kitten heels, and the way your hair was done—just the way he liked. the loose braid that always made him go feral, the way the front pieces of your hair fell in front of your face. his eyes drift down to the end of your braid, where your lucky ribbon—the one he gave you—rests, its lace slightly frayed from years of wear. | he drinks you in for a moment before turning his attention back onto his piano.

you roll your eyes and huff. you know he knows you’re here—he looked at you! so why won’t he acknowledge you? you walk up to the piano, propping yourself on your forearms. “hey matt,” you say innocently.

“hello,” he mumbles.

“whatcha doin’?” you hum, leaning in closer to matt, resting on the piano

“playing the piano,” he mutters.

“whatcha playin’?” 

“fur elise by beethoven. not only is this one of his most famous pieces, but also it’s my favorite.” he says matter-of-factly. 

elise? who’s elise?

“who’s elise?” you huff, pulling back and folding your arms.

matt stops playing the piano and looks up at you, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “you… don’t know… fur elise? why it is only one of the best pieces of classical music written on planet earth,” he snaps, standing up from his seat, causing it to push back creating a loud screech. “how is that even possible? it’s one of the most famous pieces ever composed! beethoven—beethoven—wrote it! it’s legendary!” he throws his hands up in the air, his frustration palpable.

you look at him with a dumbfounded expression, “it’s a song…?” 

“no, it’s not just a song, it’s ART! ART! ART! ART! ART! ART! something you would never understand!” he shouts

“right… got it,” you say, watching as matt sits back down all proper and poised—as if he didn’t just scream his lungs off bouncing on beethoven’s wood—and picks up right where he left off. “so ummm, do you know what today is?” you ask, leaning back onto the piano again

“yes. it is february 14th which also happens to be valentine’s day. the day that everyone pretends they care about each other because society says so.” he states, pausing for dramatic effect, “i’d rather celebrate fur elise—now that’s real love.”

you scoff, shaking your head. “i still don’t understand what’s so great about elise and not me?” you mutter. you shake your head a bit, as if you were shaking off that thought. you needed to know who the valentine was for. was it for you? was it for tessa? was it for elise? fuck elise and tessa. that’s your valentine.

you sigh, twiddling your thumbs in thought until you get an idea, “you know, i find that there is a very big misconception on what and who valentine's day is about,” you say, turning over to your side, “i mean, people make the mistake of thinking you have to be madly in love with someone for them to be your valentine”

“oh. so does this mean that you’d have to love her a little?”

“well no, not necessarily.” 

“sooo what if you only like her and not love her?”

“that works.”

“and if you are just barely being able to tolerate her?”

you turn around once again, finally facing him and his gorgeous face as you rest your arms on the piano. “well that could work but-” 

he grabs a card and hands it over to you, “happy valentines day!” he says with the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face.

your face drops as you look at the card and then back up at him, slumping down into your arms, “rats...”

taglist ♡

@sturns-mermaid. @chonicallyalone. @storyteller32. @mattscoquette. @55sturn. @queen-of-beees. @xoxopetalzblog. @lilysturn. @ilavlilpeep. @weepingdelusionobject. @ju2tm30. @funkybananas101. @xxkylie906xx. @courta13. @p3r3j1l. @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan. @ireadtoofast. @rippeanuts1950-2000. @reigengyattataka. @a-s-h-t-o-n. @anime-4-u. @maggot3647. @watercolorskyy. @matthewsturnsgf. @lemonhoney2460. @snoopychris. @oopsiedaisydeer

nini’s stamp of approval ♡

[slippinmickeys]

Keva sent me a Funfetti prompt on Bluesky, which was fun because it was just a picture. Of...you'll see.

A February day like the world cracked open, crystalline and pure. There was snow in the air, there was frost on the glass. 

“Gonna need to replace those windows,” said Mulder into his pillow, though Scully couldn’t help but admire the paisley hoar, the delicate whorl of paper thin crystals. “Item 161 on the Shit The House Needs List.”

“You’re the one who begged to buy this house, Mulder,” she reminded him, rolling toward him and shoving her feet under the warm meat of his legs. From beside the bed, the baby monitor hissed quietly.

“You agreed to it.”

“The price was right.” 

“I paid for it.”

“It’s only redeeming quality,” she said jauntily, rolling closer to him and pushing the cold tip of her nose into his neck. “And now you get to pay for its upkeep.”

The first eleven months of William’s life had been a slow merging of their individual ones, until the night of Mulder’s fortieth birthday when he wondered aloud why he was still paying for his apartment when he hadn’t set foot in it in months. Upon blowing out the candles on his Snoball, he declared the desire to buy them all a house. 

She pressed a kiss into his skin. “It’s hideous,” she murmured into him. 

“It’s got good bones.”

“It’s got zero curb appeal.”

“There are cathedrals everywhere for those with the eyes to see,” Mulder said, then rolled over quickly, pinning Scully beneath him in one slick move. 

She looked up at him with surprise. With interest. 

“I won’t sit idly by while you lay there and burgle my warmth,” he said, a sly grin creeping up one cheek. 

“I was once told that the best way to regenerate body heat was to crawl naked into a sleeping bag with somebody else who is already naked.”

Mulder smiled. “Sleeping bags aren’t necessary Scully, I intend to get lucky,” he said, lowering his mouth to the curve where her neck met her shoulder. She felt the flick of his tongue. 

And then from the baby monitor, the dulcet tones of “Dada! Dada!”

They both groaned, and Mulder thunked his head into Scully’s shoulder. 

“Well…” she said, giving his back a conciliatory rub. “Maybe tonight.”

Mulder lifted his head. 

“Here me out,” he said. “I think we have time.” He thrust himself almost experimentally against her once. 

Scully considered for a moment, turned her head so she could better hear the smaller noises William was making over the baby monitor when:

“DadadadaDADADA!”

Mulder fell to Scully’s side in defeat. 

“I’ll keep the bed warm for you,” she said, checking to make sure she didn’t need to change into a different pajama top for easier nursing. 

Mulder made a whining sound. 

“Why do I have to go when it’s you he wants?”

“He’s not calling for me,” Scully said innocently. He was one hundred percent correct. The boy would be thrilled to see his father walk into his nursery, but the second Scully came into view, he would attempt to tip himself out of his father’s arms with all the strength he could muster until he found himself in his mother’s.

“‘Dada’ is the only word he can say.”

“A fact I recall you bragging about to anyone within earshot for the better part of the last week.”

“Scully…” he whined. 

“To the victor go the spoils,” she said, and shimmied herself further under the covers. 

Knowing he was fighting a losing battle, Mulder rose from the bed and quickly donned sweats and a tee shirt, shuffling out of their bedroom in a leather pair of slippers ‘William’ had gotten him for Christmas. 

“Good morning!” Scully heard him say good-naturedly over the monitor before she leaned over and switched it off, smiling to herself. 

A few minutes later Mulder came shuffling back in carrying their son, who squealed happily upon seeing his mother. 

“Good morning, William!” she said with a happy smile. 

As they approached her side of the bed, Mulder grinned. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom,” he said, then turned to look importantly at their son. “Want to give her her present?” 

“Da!” the baby babbled, and leaned out of Mulder’s arms and into Scully’s. 

Scully sat him on her lap briefly, and in the hand that had been tucked into Mulder’s side appeared a small red and yellow plushie that went directly into his mouth. 

“My goodness!” Scully exclaimed happily. “What’s this?” 

Mulder flopped into the bed next to them and propped himself up on an elbow.

William took the opportunity to tilt himself forward and reach for Scully’s top. 

“Breakfast first, huh?” she said, and adjusted both baby and herself so the boy could nurse. 

He waved the plushie about as he latched, and Scully finally got a good look at it. 

“Wait,” she said. “Mulder is that a…” She turned to look at him and he grinned. 

The plushie was a bee. Slightly anthropomorphized with an adorable chubby face, smile, and antenna, holding a heart that said “BEE MINE” in looping cursive. 

“You’re kidding.” She turned to Mulder, who chuckled. “Where’d you two find this?”

“The grocery store,” he answered airily.

“My Valentine’s Day gift is from the grocery store?” Mock outrage. 

“Your birthday is in nine days and I’ve got a mortgage to pay,” Mulder breezed. “Besides, he really liked it.”

“That much is apparent,” Scully said, looking down at her son who was happily suckling, his hand wrapped around the bee in a death grip. 

“You like it?” 

“It’s charming,” she answered. “And as inside jokes go, it’s very…you.” 

Mulder leaned forward to press a kiss to her cheek and then one to the side of William’s head. “I think of it less as an inside joke and more a message of devotion.” 

She quirked a look at him. 

“I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Scully,” he said simply, then rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, leaving her in a state of rather stunned emotional tumult. 

She sat in silence for a moment, her equilibrium shaken. Mulder chose that moment to bring her back to herself.

“Oh,” he said, reappearing in the doorway with a toothbrush sticking half out of his mouth. “Be careful. I think it’s got a lot of drool on the one antenna.”

[gurugirl]

The Ex | ex!harry

Summary: Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

A/n: This will have a jucier, alternative ending but you'll only find it on Patreon! I consider this Tumblr version to be what happens in 'real life'. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3435

Warning: 18+ only, mentions of smut, emotional cheating, angst

You had no way of knowing he’d be there. But then again, he also had no clue that you would be there either.

You spotted one another right away. It was as if by magic something had drawn your eyes to his. He was already casting his gaze toward you, those soft green eyes taking you in as he held the hand of the woman to his right.

Your heart skipped a beat and looking at him again after all those years felt like there hadn’t been a day that aged him. He looked just as youthful and vibrant and handsome as ever. Dark curls placed carefully on top of his head in a flattering style, broad shoulders, a slender waist, and nicely fitted pants showing off what you remember being very sturdy and masculine thighs.

“Oh! Here are our seats!” Your husband, Les, spoke from your side and pulled at your hand, drawing your attention back to where it belonged.

You shook yourself of the direction your thoughts had been headed just before. What good did it do to remember how things were once upon a time? When you were young and in college, no kids or a career… things had been so different back then. And seeing your ex, the man you thought you’d marry, the one you thought would be by your side until you grew old and ugly…

“Are you okay, babe?” Les asked you with concern on his face.

“I’m fine… yeah! Just looking around and seeing a bunch of old faces. People I haven’t seen in years.”

You were at a friend’s wedding. Someone you, by some miracle, had stayed in touch with since high school. You had grown apart from Seria over the years but she still invited you to her wedding and you couldn’t imagine missing it even though you had to find an overnight sitter for your two kids and drive five hours to a different state to attend. Something told you it would be worth it.

You turned slowly to glance around the room again, your wine glass in hand and caught his eye again. The woman he was seated next to was as lovely as she was when you first met. You remembered her. She was in your senior graduating class. An acquaintance. Someone that Harry had grown close to but that you hadn’t gotten to know all that well. At first, her presence didn’t threaten you. But after you all graduated she and Harry became inseparable and he slowly began spending less time with you and more time with her. They had a lot in common, as you recall. They were both music majors, they’d write music together and play at bars in tiny scraped-together bands occasionally.

You found out on accident about how serious he was about her. No one thought you didn’t know.

You had visited a mutual friend’s apartment and stopped in for tea and a little chat. Sarah had a whiteboard hung up on her front door, facing the inside. People would write on it. Doodle pictures, scrawl their names in different colors, or just leave funny messages.

You didn’t take note of the whiteboard at first but when you sat down on Sarah’s couch you looked up at it and saw what had been written in black with red hearts all around.

harry + ginny = really good stuff

It took you a moment to let it all sink in after you saw that. You and Sarah made small talk but you couldn’t stop thinking about what was written on the whiteboard. And the hearts all around it told you it meant more than just something friendly. So you had to interrupt and ask, “Is that… my Harry?” You already knew the answer.

Sarah followed your gaze to the whiteboard and she let out a small gasp, “Oh! I forgot that was there. Are you okay about all this? I know it’s still fresh. You and Harry were together for years.”

“Am I okay about what? What’s fresh?” You began to feel yourself tremble and your heart was racing. You were suddenly having a hard time taking in any new information because it all came crashing down on you at that very moment. The reality of what was going on. You were the last to know about Harry and Ginny. He hadn’t even had the balls to break it off with you first.

You hardly remember leaving Sarah’s apartment after she told you that they’d been dating, and from what she said, rather openly. No one had bothered to talk to you about it. Everyone just assumed you knew.

Of course, you went directly to Harry’s apartment and found Ginny there already. They hadn’t been doing anything bad when you barged in. Ginny was on his couch with a notebook in hand and Harry was on the floor with a guitar in his arms.

He looked up at you from his spot on the floor and it’s like you blacked out. You can’t quite recall what was said but in the end, he wound up telling you the truth. That he’d fallen in love with Ginny and he was going to tell you soon but that he didn’t know how because he didn’t want to hurt you.

After that, you still saw Harry. He was part of your friend group and so it was inevitable that you’d run into him from time to time. After a couple of years, things were fine between you two and you’d met Les. You’d both moved on. Things had changed. And then you moved away with Les and you got pregnant, twice, and now six years later, here you were again looking at the man who once was your everything. He’d broken your heart but you were both so young and dumb back then that it was all but forgotten.

The past was the past, but you could still feel that small clench in your heart at how things had ended with Harry.

More drinks were drunk, snacks were served, and dancing commenced… the night was fun. Les was hilarious. He was an awful dancer but he insisted on taking you to the floor with him. You both laughed and swayed to the music in the crowded spot in the hall designated for dancing.

And as much fun as you were having you couldn’t stop thinking about or catching glimpses of Harry. It appeared he couldn’t get you off his mind either. It was rather flattering in a way. To have him looking at you from across the room. The subtle smiles and nods. You felt really good about keeping your distance, though. Even though at the very end of everything, you and Harry were on good terms and had been friendly, it had been so long. Too long. You felt there was no use in having a chat. Nothing good would come of it. You’d grown apart. Lives took separate paths. Old exes at a wedding had no good reason to catch up when you’d likely never see one another ever again. It was easier to stay away. Better for everyone.

Les ordered another round of whatever he’d been drinking and suddenly wasn’t feeling so hot. You both sat at your table with a couple of the other guests who were still there. Many were dropping like flies, as tends to happen at weddings. Luckily the hotel was connected to the reception hall so getting Les to your room was not that difficult.

You knew you should have stayed with him. Just called it a night and tucked in for your early morning back home to pick up your children. But against your better judgment, you decided on just one more drink.

The band was still playing, slower music than when you’d left. Most of the tables were empty as people mingled and danced slowly. You sat at the bar and searched the room for Harry. You figured he and Ginny had gone to their room, or back home depending on how far away they lived from the venue. It was nearly midnight. The band would wrap up in a half hour and that would be that.

You sighed and turned back to face the bar and sipped your last glass of wine of the night. You’d said your hellos to everyone you wanted to. Except Harry. Deep down you really did want to say hi to him but you knew better. There was something that was telling you to keep your distance and you were glad for it. Maybe it was subconscious or perhaps there were still feelings there after all this time. You knew the truth. But you weren’t ready to admit any of that to yourself.

“Hi, Sunshine.”

You felt a wave of heat and excitement thrum through your bones. It was him. He used to call you Sunshine. Sunny. Used to sing You Are My Sunshine to you every day.

You turned to see Harry taking the chair next to you at the bar, “Hi, Harry.”

You took him in. All of his handsome face. Those pink lips you used to nibble, the nose you used to smush yours into for wispy nose-tip kisses. His intense gaze was just as it had been all those years before. You wanted to reach your fingers out and stretch them over his jawline and feel the stubble on the pads of your fingers. He was so grown up. So unchanged and yet more mature. More handsome in some ways.

He drew his arm along the back of your chair and leaned in close as he spoke to you as if you two were a couple. As if nothing had ever come between you nearly 8 years prior, “You are more beautiful than I even remember, Sunny. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you at least once.”

You hadn’t expected him to let that be his leading comment. The first thing spoken to you in so long. But Harry didn’t follow conventions or rules. He never had. So it shouldn’t have surprised you that his first comment to you was how he thought about you every day. You wondered if that was true. Because there were days you thought about Harry still too. It wasn’t every single day. Some days he didn’t cross your mind at all. But of course, you did often think of him.

“I doubt that, Harry. You’re still big on flattery, I see,” you smiled shyly and peeled your eyes away from his to sip your wine.

When his thigh brushed into yours you could smell his cologne. It was different than what he wore in college. It was more grown up. Smelled expensive. Smelled more like something Harry should wear, “I wrote a song about you not too long ago. Ginny doesn’t know, but it brought back a lot of old memories.”

His voice was soft and deep and the timbre traveled from your ear down to your neck and your bare shoulder. You swallowed thickly and dared to turn to look at him again, knowing he was too close. Knowing what this would look like if anyone were to see you two.

“Where is Ginny?”

Harry’s small grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at your lips and shook his head, “In our room. She was tired. Just like I imagine Les is in yours.”

You blinked and looked away. You were flying too close to the sun, you knew it. This was dangerous territory and Harry was orchestrating something very wrong. Something you’d only regret. But you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Maybe curiosity had you sticking around. Maybe it was for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was just that you missed him and missed this and missed the way things had been.

You didn’t know how to respond but your body was on fire. Harry’s warm leg was pressed into yours and his large frame practically had you caged in. You loved it.

“Look at me, Sunshine,” he whispered as he softly touched your chin and nudged your face toward his, “There we go. Remember that time we loaded up my old Bronco and drove straight through to San Francisco? Thought we were gonna find an apartment and live like hippies in the big city and just write and paint and make music and that’s how we’d make all our money?”

You laughed and nodded, “I do. But instead, your Bronco broke down in Oakland at 3 am and we had to stay the night in the back of your car and get a tow back home.”

Harry laughed through his nose as he nodded his head, eyes still pinned to yours, “Wish it would have worked out between us. I miss all the fun we used to have. Me and you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you were stuck. He was laying it on thick. He was never one to beat around the bush. He hadn’t changed. It was part of what drew people to him. His magnetism. His confidence.

“Don’t you miss it, Sunny?” He brushed his knuckle over your wrist and you inhaled sharply. Just the smallest touch had you spiraling. You would have to fight your way out of his trance if you intended on not allowing this to go any further.

You shook your head and looked down at your lap, “I don’t know, Harry.”

“We’d stay up all night making love until the sun came up. Miss classes. Skip out on parties we promised people we’d go to. Just in our own world all the time. It never got boring with you. For years we were like that. It’s never been like that with anyone else. All that passion we had, Sunny. My Sunshine girl. Never.”

You sighed and… yes. You did recall all that passion. And it was true. For nearly four years you and Harry were insatiable. It was like every day was your first date. Your first time. Like you were still getting to know one another after all those years. Sex had never been better. Harry was your best by far. You didn’t like to compare anyone to him but that’s only because it made you miss him. Made you miss the way you felt. Missed that lust and that passion and the vulnerability.

“I know you know what I mean,” Harry slid his hand down to your thigh discretely. No one in the room could see but you knew he was touching you in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. In a way that was only reserved for your husband. Felt that familiar, big palm spread over the expanse of your soft thigh, his thumb lightly grazing the bottom hem of your dress.

“Harry…” you breathed his name in warning.

“My Sunshine, girl,” he spoke the pet name back to you without an ounce of teasing. He was perfectly clear in what he wanted. And even though he hadn’t said it outright, there was no denying it.

“I’m married.” You reasoned weakly as you let your gaze rove his features and drop to his plush lips.

“So am I.” He squeezed your thigh and your limbs were on fire. You didn’t know how to escape the moment. You didn’t know if you wanted to. He was “the one who got away”. Even though everything hurt when it happened and he’d done you wrong, you’d long ago forgiven him and now it was just two old lovers feeling that same heat and desire they once felt. Some things from the past could be forgotten. But the way things felt between you, that constant spark, the wild lust every single day for all those years would never be forgotten.

You still dreamed about him. Would wake up hot and panting and roll over to see Les fast asleep with his face tucked into his pillow and you’d close your eyes and remember the time… Remember his voice and his hands and the way he made you feel. How free and exciting life was with Harry.

And it was all coming back to you in an insane, surreal, mind-bending rush. Everything about him was the same as it was before you graduated college. Before he fell for Ginny. Before you two grew apart and you got married and moved away. You could almost taste the skin on his hips near his laurel tattoos. Could smell the scent of his sex mixed with yours. Could hear the laughs and the moans and neighbors beating on the wall telling you to keep it down. Could feel the way you loved him once upon a time, the way he loved you so deeply it scared you. Loved you so much you never could imagine that he’d ever love another.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” you whispered with a grin.

He shook his head, “I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.”

You licked your lips and closed your eyes. Every time you thought you’d wake up from the dream you felt him move against you, felt his fingers on your skin and you were continuously dropped down into your seat at the bar at your friend’s wedding with your ex at your side and his words snaking into your ears.

The only thought that kept you grounded was knowing that there was nowhere for him to take you that was private. Because that had already, obviously, crossed your mind. To have another taste. One last time just for old-time’s sake. But it seemed impossible. It seemed ridiculous to even entertain. And yet there you were.

“Remember that small room with the table and chair on the second floor of the library we used to go to? Had a lock,” Harry’s warm hand stayed on your thigh as he spoke.

You did remember that. You found a room in the 2nd-floor corridor that connected to a small hallway off the library. The hallway had four doors. They were all locked but one of them just so happened to unlock if you lifted the knob upward and jiggled it just right. The room was bare of furniture except a small wooden table pushed against the wall and a fabric swivel chair with wheels. Both of which you learned to make good use of. It wasn’t hard to find a use for random surfaces with Harry back then.

Nodding and squinting your eyes at the man you spoke, “Of course I do.”

“I want to get you alone in a room again,” he lowered his voice and leaned in so that his voice was close and the front of his shoulder was pressed into the back of yours, “Just one more time. Something just for you and me, Sunny. I miss you.”

You couldn’t believe the way he’d gotten you worked up in almost no time. The way you still reacted to him and the need crawling up your spine made you dizzy.

“There’s no place to go here, Harry. No free room. We can’t anyway… you know we can’t,” you looked at his face and held your breath. You couldn’t do this. It was wrong.

“We can find something. A hidden spot where no one will ever know.”

You looked away from his fierce gaze and down at your glass. You swallowed thickly and shook your head as you reluctantly pulled yourself from his side and stepped off the stool, “Harry. We can’t. I have kids. My husband is… I love him. I don’t love you anymore. I could never forgive myself.”

He clenched his jaw as he nodded, “No one would know.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. You could tell he knew this wasn’t going to happen.

“I would know,” you dropped some cash on the bar and looked back at Harry as you squeezed his shoulder, “But it does feel good to know that you regret replacing me with someone else even after all this time.”

As you walked away you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You could have said yes. Could have found yourself in some room or bathroom stall with him getting exactly what you knew he could deliver. But you didn’t regret saying no. You didn’t regret walking away from him. It felt good to have the upper hand. Something you had no idea that you’d had all along. The man who you thought you’d lost really turned out to be the man who’d lost you.

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