#he keeps trying to lock toes with blue it would NOT happen sorry

[choism]

A Flashy Plan | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Crew!gn!Reader

Genre: Smut, Crack

Summary: A tough day and a tired crew calls for correction in the captain's quarters

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: sub!buggy, gn!reader, but you can imagine reader with a strap or a dick, unprotected sex (bad !), overstimulation, improper use of the chop chop fruit, buggy's head is elsewhere, semi public sex, multiple orgasms, buggy is a babygirl honestly, and a brat too

A/N: I said I would write it and I did! Look at me keeping promises for once lmao. I hope you all enjoy and dont forget to reblog with your thoughts <3

Today had been a rough day for the Buggy Pirates. There were two attacks, both just outside bordering islands, which meant they couldn’t stop for supplies for quite a while. Stopping meant bringing the attacking pirates near the island, which would cause panic, which would cause bounty hunters and marines to appear at the mere sight of their flag. No, they had to flee, and quickly.

Now, afloat the east blue with no real course yet, the crew was in sore spirits, especially their Captain. Buggy had been extra mopey– extra mean to everyone, and that included you. You and the captain had a…special relationship. Sleep together occasionally, cuddle occasionally, but that was the extent of it. It was just two pirates trying to find sense in this barren sea, and you two happened to end up naturally floating together, pun intended.

You were fed up. All of the crew had suffered losses today. They were starved, thirsty, and just wanted to rest but that was impossible when aboard the ship of the man to be King of the Pirates. Buggy was just making everything worse by poking the bear.

“You all suck! Not a very flashy move to flee an island all because of some lowly pirates. We could've done better.” He spits at nobody in particular, but he looks at you briefly and it sets something off inside of you. The crew disperses and you immediately make your way to the clown.

Buggy is back in his captain’s quarters, bent over the desk and presumably overlooking something, while mumbling to himself. You walk in and quietly close the door behind you, tip-toeing behind him and whispering in his ear, “So what wasn’t flashy about avoiding us getting caught by marines, hm?” You smirk and feel him stiffen at the desk.

“I- I didn’t mean you y/n! You were fine I just think that–”

You don’t let him finish, Spinning him around and pinning him to the desk, leaning fully into his space now,

“Think what? That we are no better than lowly pirates? You know better than to insult your crew during such a hard time, Bugsy.” The nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly, sending a shiver down Buggy’s spine. Outside, he’s the captain, but in his attempt to escape the harsh reality of a Captain’s burdens, he submits in the bedroom.

You, on the other hand? You like control, dominance. You like to feel like you have a grip on whatever flimsy string life is, and this is how you take that initiative. It’s a great dynamic and there have been no complaints from Buggy’s end. Well…Unless we are talking about his rear end…

“Fuck y/n wait, I- I’m sorry okay let’s just talk this out, oh!” You press your knee into his crotch, he’s already half hard from being talked down to of course. Buggy whimpers and trembles beneath your touch, anticipating what you’ll do next. You reach your hand up to hold his jaw and place light pecks at his neck, lowering your hand to grip his neck lightly.

“Head on the table sweetheart.” You smirk and step back, starting to unbuckle your belt.

“Why what are you going to do?” Buggy takes off his hat and his headscarf, letting his long blue locks fall around his shoulders in heavy waves. You would never admit it to him, but you find Buggy so gorgeous, if he offered up anything further than some situationship at sea, you’d probably take him up on it. You stare into his green eyes, giving him an answer without even saying anything. Buggy makes room on the desk and pops his head off, gently landing on the wood.

“Well? Take off your clothes too, slut.” The degrading name causes Buggy’s cock to jump in his pants, now fully hard from the unbelievable sexual build up. He makes quick work of his own clothes, now fully nude in front of his crew mate. You’ve gotten your own clothes off as well, having grabbed the spare lube Buggy keeps in his desk and slicking up your own cock. “Turn around for me baby.” You command him and he swiftly complies.

His plump ass is fully on display, his flush cock hanging heavy between his legs and leaking precum like a faucet. You lube up your fingers, warming it up and spreading it over his hole, making sure to get him ready for your fingers.

“Mm please, please do it already.” His head begs, looking at the sight with his eyes heavy, lips pouted and whimpering. 

“You don’t get a say in this, you get to watch and look pretty.” You grip his jaw and he looks up at you, nodding. Now fully bent over the desk, some things falling over, you enter a single finger, crooking and prodding at him to stretch him properly for your cock later. Buggy lets out loud groans next to you, clearly enjoying the sensation. You add a second, and then a third finger, the lube slick sounds bouncing off the thin walls of his quarters, the crew is probably hearing everything. 

You fuck into him deeply, hitting his prostate over and over, his cock leaking all over important documents on his desk as he ruts into it, chasing pleasure.

“‘M cum…gon’ cum…” He lazily says, and you halt all of your movements. “Fuck why please nng ah!” You swiftly enter him, filling him up with your cock and mercilessly fucking into his wet hole. Almost immediately, he comes all over the desk and onto the floor, but you don’t stop thrusting. Buggy lets out strings of ‘ ah ah ah’ with each thrust.

“What? Can’t handle me being a little rough? How do you expect to handle those ‘lowly pirates’ if you can’t even take a cock properly without cumming instantly?” He’s a whimpering mess, drooling and looking at his own body being fucked. Buggy can’t even form words, the overstimulation causing him to get hard again quickly.

“N…” Buggy starts to say but you can’t hear him. You grab his hair and lift up his head, forcing him to be face to face with you as you pound into him,

“Spit it out.”

Buggy laughs half-heartedly, “Not flashy enough.”

You reattach his head and flip him over on the desk so his legs are in the air and his cock is flush against his stomach. You enter him again, fucking him even harder than before. “Is this flashy enough for you, clown? Wanna be fucked dumb like the cockslut you are?” You feel your own orgasm approaching quickly, you wrap a hand around Buggy’s pathetically leaking cock, fisting it so you can finish at the same time.

Soon after, you both finish, Buggy making a mess of his own stomach, some of it even reaching his face. You pull out of him slowly.

“How’s that for a flashy plan, captain?”

© Choism 2023. do not repost or translate.

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Triad Part 8 — Reunited and it Feels So Good

A Cazriel x Reader Headcanon

Series Masterlist

A/N: Ya'll this part is good but the next one (which is only half finished) is imho the best one yet!!!!

Click here to be added to the taglist so you never miss an update!

Warnings: Angst, some smut

Azriel falls into your open, waiting arms, body wracking with full-force sobs. You stagger back but luckily Cassian is there to catch you. He wraps his arms around both of you and kicks the door shut with his foot before sliding to the floor.

After gently manhandling you into place, he’s got both of you balanced on his lap. Az buries his head into the crook of Cas’s neck and you rest your forehead in between Az’s shoulder blades, just above the spot where his wings connect to his back. You press him against Cas’s chest and focus on sending love and reassurance through the bond to strengthen it on Azriel’s side.

It’s okay, you murmur through the bond. You’re home, you’re safe.

We’re here, love, Cas adds, sending wave after wave of shimmering gold and red towards Az. His red mixes with Az’s blue and swirls with your purple until the three strands of magic braid together, becoming one again.

Az’s sobs taper off into soft gasps and he clutches Cas.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hoarse and quiet. His shadows swirl around the three of you as an extra layer of protection, keeping all of the love and magic contained in a tight ball in order to help heal their master’s mind faster.

“Oh, baby,” you mutter against his skin, wrapping your arms around him from behind to rub your hands in slow, lazy circles around his belly button.

“I shouldn’t have blocked you out. Not that much, I just… I was so scared.” Az’s voice breaks on the last word, the sobs lurking just under the surface threatening to come back out. Words tumble out of his mouth, a waterfall of apologies and regrets. “Things are getting so bad down there—I couldn’t let them get to you. I was…I would’ve stayed there as long as I had to, until I could be sure that you’d be safe.”

“Hey, hey, hey, shhh,” Cas shushes him.

“We didn’t know what would happen, either.” You say.

“You’re not mad at me?” Az asks, bright hazel eyes blinking up at Cas first, then turning to focus on you.

“We’ll never be mad at you for trying to protect us,” you assure him, voice soft as you lean in to press a kiss between Az’s shoulder blades.

“You’re ours,” Cassian growls. His possessiveness hits you like a blow to the head; suddenly, it’s like there’s a feral cat in your chest trying to claw its way to Azriel. You tighten your grip around his waist, pushing yourself flush to his back as Cas slams his lips against Az’s.

It’s instinctual, the way Az surges forward, his fight or flight mode easily activated after his recent mission. You try to channel some calm his way, and eventually it works because he’s able to pull himself out of that dominant headspace, melting against your chest as he gives himself over to Cas.

Cas grunts, reaching one arm around to tap against your ass. Combined with the disjointed images flashing through your mind from Cassian’s side of the bond, you get the hint and scramble off of his lap, tugging Azriel back with you.

Az whimpers at the loss of contact and tugs on the hairs at the nape of Cassian’s neck, beckoning him forward.

I’m yours, he says through the bond, sending all of his pent-up arousal along with it. You feel it course through your veins, curling your toes. Cas slips out from under Az and pushes on his chest until you’ve got a lap full of dark waves.

Using your fingers, you comb through Az’s tangled locks with your fingers, channeling a bit of healing magic out through your touch. He sinks further into your lap and you move to his shoulders, working out the knots surrounding his wings.

Cas coaxes Az’s leathers open, tearing the fabric of his undershirt to reveal the planes of his abs.

“Fuck, baby,” Cas groans, sliding his hips back and lowering his lips to the crook of Az’s neck, using soft bites and soothing sucks to coax a needy whine from deep in the Shadowsinger’s throat. It doesn’t take long for him to move lower, trailing kisses down the lean, muscled planes of Az’s stomach, letting his tongue dip into every groove.

When Cas’s nose brushes against the wiry hairs beneath Az’s belly button, Az’s back arches, subconsciously trying to guide Cas lower. Cas lifts his head to smirk at you as he pops open the buttons of Az’s pants one by one until they’re loose enough to shimmy down, freeing Az’s cock. It springs up, leaking against his stomach.

Kiss-bitten lips wrap around the tip and Az’s hands reach back to clamp around your thighs, fingernails dulled by your soft linen sleep pants.

“Fuck,” he whines as Cas slowly lowers his head until his nose is buried in the thick patch of dark curls at the base of Az’s cock. Az squeezes his eyes shut, head tilting back as Cas lifts his hips off the floor. “‘M not gonna last.”

You trail your hands down his chest, grazing the pads of your fingers over his nipples, and lean down to whisper in his ear.

“It’s okay, babe. Just let us take care of you.”

With your lips sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin on his neck and Cas trying to fully swallow his dick, it doesn’t take long for Az to tense up and then fall back, eyes watering as he shoots his release down Cas’s throat.

There’s no trace of it when Cas lifts his head up and wipes the back of his hand across his satisfied smirk. Seeing Az fully relaxed with his head in your lap makes Cas’s heart clench, sending waves of love down the bond.

“C’mon, love,” he says, tugging on Az’s hands to help him up. Az’s eyes flutter open, staring up at Cas through a pleasure and exhaustion induced haze. You stand up, helping maneuver Az into a standing position, and head to the kitchen to make tea while Cas gets Az settled in the middle of the bed.

Armed with a tray of tea and pastries, you gently push the door open to reveal Az clinging to Cas, curled up on his side and tucked into the space between Cas’s arm and torso. Soft snores fill the room, making you giggle. With a wave of your hand, you send the tray to the bedside table, instructing your magic to keep the tea warm.

You wrap yourself around Az from behind, reaching your arm as far as it can go and making grabby hands at Cas. He chuckles and slides his free hand into yours, squeezing tightly.

“He’s home,” you breath, letting yourself melt into the mattress.

“Yeah,” Cas echoes, fondness shimmering in his eyes as he takes in the sight of his mates tucked safely next to him in bed. “Our boy is home.”

Taglist: @wallacewillow0773638@hnyclover @anutellaa @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @queerqueenlynn @brujitafantomatico

[vinnoa-articles]

Embers

[Image by Eiichiro Oda]

Rating: +18, you have been warned. If you are a minor, leave now.

Word count: 4,385

Type: Smut

Characters: reader (AFAB), Sabo, Portgas D. Ace, Luffy, Garp, Eustass Kid (mentioned), Crocodile (mentioned), Marco (mentioned)

Trigger warnings/content: Sex, first time, some talk of gay sex, swearing, babygirl nickname

Notes: Sabo, Ace and Luffy are not actual related brothers, but they are super close friends. Garp is essentially a guardian of these three. Crocodile is an antagonist in ONE PIECE, and Marco is actually a crewmember of Ace's. Thought it would be interesting to put some familiar names in the anime into here. Eustass Kid is just another pirate in ONE PIECE. Just another detail. Sorry its so long!

The rustling of trees, the cracked open window letting in the night breeze, the young blond man climbed down finally as his toes touched the cracked pavement. His scar over his right eye couldn't cover his twinkling happy eyes. Tight black washed out skinny jeans with a hole over his right knee, with his ankle high combat boots to offset his loose white t-shirt. There was something so tantalizing at the sight of such a rebellious boy, waving outside the window. Small droplets of rain starting to fall and make his labrador hair cling to his cheeks. He was the cute one, of course, though it was a secret from one of his brothers, the other brother knew. Waving at the cute figure in the window, he knew that this worked. His charm is what he read in novels, and this was the only time he put this little show on. She waved back, which made him grin ear-to-ear, as he felt the cold drops fall on his hot cheeks. Keeping eye contact as he started to run in the rain, right where he needed to go. The sight of the female in the window disappeared behind a tree he ran past, as the sky turned a dark ash, rain pouring above from the sky. There was a slight buzz coming from his pocket; a new message most likely. Whisking out his small phone, and letting the blue light hit his eyes, he saw the simple message. 

[5:48PM Come back, I miss you already.]

Zig-zagging through the nearest park to reach a huge tree that had a rope hanging off a branch, and above that, a tree house with a small emanating orange glow. That could only mean one thing, someone was already at the hideout. The blond grasped the rope, trying to get a tight grip, as someone above must have heard his footsteps approach, opening the hatch on the floor of the tree house to pull him in.

“Hey yo Sabo!” The brother with a loose tank chuckled, raising his eyebrow. Sabo crawled up and closed the hatch, placing the small rug on top of it so no one would trip over the hinges. Wrinkling his nose and leaning back against a small box, as Sabo started to peel off his shirt to wring it out the window. “Dude, so did you finally get to fuck her or something? I’ve been waiting here, ya know?” Shaking his head, the scar on his face shined a little bit brighter, as if it was doing all the talking.

“Ace, you can’t just ask something like that,” Sabo shook his head to get as much of the water droplets off his locks. “Besides, we only got to step one,” smirking from ear-to-ear, his ears turning a slight pink as it peeked out from the yellow wet strands. “I’m not like you that goes to phase, what, eight and just goes straight into fucking.” Ace merely put his hands up in the air to shrug, defeated almost by the truth.

“Hey man, sorry that I got game. Besides, I know how she is. A tender soft ember really,” Ace cocking his neck back and forth to stretch out his neck muscles. “I have no idea how to woo a lady, honestly,” reaching behind him to grab the pillow he was leaning on to nearly throw at Sabo. Sabo reached to grab a pillow near him, defending himself, only for Ace to grasp the pillow and hug it into his lithe. “So, what happened? Unless you did fuck after god knows how many months of you dating, then good-”

“We didn’t!” Throwing the pillow straight towards his slightly younger brother’s face. There was only a chuckle muffled by a pillow. Sabo didn’t want to acknowledge Ace’s game, especially with how frequent Ace goes on one-night-stands. College was over for both of them, and it was just summer time as they kind of caused mischief all around the city. “What’s it to you anyway? You aren’t interested in women.”

“You know me too well!” The freckled boy sat up straight smiling. “That’s because I fucked him, and still had enough time to come here and wait for your slow ass.” It was kind of ridiculous how many men Ace roped in though. His smile was charming, and it made anyone swoon for him. The main perk, however, was his body that even he was envious of. Sun-kissed skin from the Gods, abs that pulsed when he breathed, his shoulders and collar decorated in small galaxies of freckles, with his fine raven locks flowing behind him when he rode the waves on his surfboard. “My date went well, of course, he had to beg me to let him enter me. I am just too good bro. Can’t complain about that Crocodile.” Sabo pouted as he took off each boot and placed it beside him. There was no way that such a wild-cannon of a man was capable of getting this many dates. 

“I bet you any money you paid him to have sex with you,” trying to rile up the fire child himself. Ace nearly stood up, cracking his knuckles.

“Oh you wanna bet on that scar face?” Sabo quickly grabbed his metal pipe that was leaned up against the table as he stood ready. 

“Oi! What are you guys talking about?” Both their heads turn to see their youngest brother, his shit-eating grin with his little straw hat staying right near the back of his neck, as the small string kept it anchored around his neck, his red little vest hugging his small frame with his navy blue shorts soaked from the rain. “Fight? Are we fighting now?” Sabo and Ace blinked, looking at each other, then at the young boy in the window.

“Luffy?!” Both of them nearly screamed as the youngest flopped into the tree house. His sandals slipped off his feet as he laughed on the floor. “How did you even get up here?” Ace pointed, as he stood over the rug. The boy in red chuckled his typical joyous laugh and lied on the floor.

“I climbed!”

“With what?”

“My arms!” The older two brothers sigh, but it was nothing too surprising. If Sabo thought Ace was the most loose-cannon, Luffy, the youngest, was definitely the most reckless and unpredictable. Always the one getting them in trouble with their guardian, Garp, was always the way of life with Luffy.

“Of fucking course, you did, buddy,” Ace smiled then plopped right back on the floor. “How did summer school go today?” The smiles disappeared immediately, replaced with an angry frown. Sabo already knew what was coming but wanted to hear the normal lore of summer school anyway.

“Ah! Fuck school! It’s so damn boring!” Kicking his legs around to emphasize his frustration. Ace only could laugh, trying not to laugh at the youngest’s pain but it was the same issue everyday.

“Wow, that’s new. No fight-”

“But, I fought with Eustass again. Freaking picking on me and shit, whooped his damn ass that loser” pouting towards the end. There was a groan from the fireboy, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Again Luffy? You know Garp is going to beat your ass when he finds out,” his hand covering his face in secondhand embarrassment. They all knew what was going to happen if Garp were to find out how rebellious the young teens were being at this point in life. Sabo was always doing fine on his tests, and he studied well. There were just some rules that were just straight up stupid. Such as chewing gum in school, or playing cards, or heck, wearing his hat; that may or may not obscure everyone’s view of the blackboard in the front of the class. So of course he is going to draw some questionable things on each and every blackboard, something funny that the teachers don’t approve of. He was called the “Revolutionary Army” for a reason. Then there was Ace, who nearly got away with everything he did, well, nearly. Never studying, skipping class, putting his boots up on his desk as the teacher scolds him to put his feet down. Of course, he didn’t care, because even after class, he would have some other guy being bent over the same desk, letting him teach the lesson on that table. He relished in that thought, so of course it was his desk. Then there was Luffy, the one that just struggled to understand his lessons, and that school is not where you fight. Even his friends would let him know.

“Gah! Who cares! I am done with summer school. I wanna hang out with you guys before college starts for you all!” Ace smiled in approval, encouraging his little brother’s behavior of ditching. Sabo would be lying if he was going to say he didn’t approve of his sibling’s actions, but then again, he was no better. “So what are you talking about?”

“Men”

“Women”

Luffy stared at the both of them, confused. “Huh? That you wanna fight? Cause these fists are rated E for everyone!”

“No bruv, we mean for fuck-” Ace stopped short as Sabo interupted Ace from potentially furthering the rebelliousness of Luffy. 

“What he means is someone you love,” Sabo glaring at Ace. Luffy was still three years younger than the two of them; Sabo only being 3 months older than Ace and always holding it above him during small banters, he still wanted Ace to at least be a pure boy. Afterall, his so-called “Strawhat Crew” already had a pervert or two…or more so they could tell him when he was ready. “But I just am not getting anywhere with this person,” the blond rolled his eyes. The process was so slow. The perfect gal in his eyes. Of course he only kissed her forehead when he snuck into her apartment and gave her his number on a small post-it note. He thought she was much more wild, as this girl was much more talkative from what it seemed at school; or maybe it's because she was with friends. Regardless, he was infatuated. She always stood up in math class to do math in a different way than what the teachers taught. Always going to the extreme end in class to prove that there are multiple ways of doing things, leaving the teachers flustered and scolding her to “do it our way, because that is what the whole lesson is asking for.”

“Ace, you have a lover?” Luffy scratched his head. “Is that why you always smell so nice every time you leave that hug from those guys you try to bring to the house.”

“You WHAT?!” Grabbing his pipe again, there was no way Ace was trying to bring his little toys here, it was a sacred ground.

“Woah woah woah, easy there. He means our house, not our small getaway up here,” Ace putting his hands up to signal he was unarmed, innocent, and definitely telling the truth. “B-besides Luffy, those are just a one-time friend that I might bring around. Maybe twice, so don’t worry bruv.” The smallest pondered and just smiled, winking at Ace and giving him a thumbs up.

“Oh! I see! So THAT is why in your room you two were hugging against the wall and you were saying his name. Close friends!” There was no freaking way, Ace left his damn door unlocked, again. The first time was when he, himself, walked in on his older tutor, Marco just ramming into Ace on the bed. Feral, moaning and groaning. All Sabo wanted to do was beat both of them up, but Ace pleaded and begged not for his brother to rat him out to Garp. Which is when Sabo confirmed Ace was not straight, despite all the small jokes that Ace would just drop randomly around him. Now, it was poor Luffy seeing god-knows-who screwing around in the forbidden love chamber.

“A.C.E-” Ace was sweating now, shaking a little as his smile trembled as he tried to talk, well, straight.

“Listen! Technically, Luffy has the key to my room so it’s not really my fault, ya know?” He was right though, if he locked his door, then of course if Luffy unlocked it to ask for something, he wouldn’t make a peep if he saw his brother preoccupied. Luffy knows firsthand that any friend that needs a small hug or bonding needs some space. “Anyway,” Ace’s freckles moved as he coughed to clear the air. “I think you should go back there tonight. I saw the look on her face when-”

“You are also stalking me now, you twink?!” There was no way in hell Ace was this insanely good. If only Sabo had the strength to beat his ass for everything that happened. “There is no way in hell, if you think I am just going to dive in and just show her what I want.” The “revolutionist” had his mind clouded like the current weather. This person was tender, soft, and allowed him to even get as close as he did. 

“Why don’t you go slow and see what she does? React when she does something?” All heads turn to the highschool student who is just picking at the small carpet hairs that are loose, seeing how many he could find. “I mean, you are smart Sabo. Smarter than all of us. I think you’ll figure it out.” For once, though Luffy is not dumb by any means, he is just a little sheltered and very pure. “Why are you guys looking at me?” Ace laughed a little then nodded.

“For once I have to agree with our little brother here. You are the most level-headed, but…” his face getting closer to Sabo. His scar twitched as the tan boy got close to his ear and whispered, “I had a little bird tell me she is not as innocent minded as you think. Take it from me.” There it was. He could feel his own face feel hot, his legs still wet from his skinny jeans he refused to pluck off. It was getting dark outside, and if he didn’t leave now, he wouldn’t have the chance since he has to help out with his little click in about two or three days, going on a small trip to just cause a little chaos with the cops this time. Snatching his things, he pulls the carpet off the hatch, which nearly sends poor Luffy flying as he was still pulling the loose hairs out of the darn thing. The wood scraped against each other, the hole opened right near his toes as he gave a quick thumbs up to his brothers, signaling that he was going to move, along with the unspoken code of;

“Yeah we won’t tell Garp!”

“We will let Garp know you’ll be home late!”

Which was shortly followed by a quick slap behind the youngest’s head. Luffy was a funny one, but he was right. The rain was still coming down, but it didn’t matter, the smell of fresh rain was enticing from what he read in books. Running out of the park and back to the dark backyard. Seeing the missing spots of moss that were on the bricks where he had already climbed before, up the wall and lifting up the window in one swift movement as it closed all the way as it were. The room was lit, but with a single candle. There was but not a single sound, but just a pair of eyes that just greeted him in both awe and horror. Whoops, forgot to let her know he thought. She sat leaning against her bed frame on the floor, book in hand, gawking at the wet footsteps that were leading right up to her, where he previously walked, and now again, ending at the same finish line as he did earlier today. Though Sabo is not as buff as Ace, he was definitely not scrawny neither, better yet, he was taller than him.

“I am back at your calling,” kneeling on his exposed knee, his hand cupping her jaw. His hands were still wet, but his musk, fresh cut grass, and the smell of rain wafted in the air. She closed her eyes, he waited as her lips slightly parted, her head turning as he met his lips with hers. Pulling away to see her reaction. 

“Was not expecting you so late,” her words were soft with nature’s song pitter-patter the foggy glass. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, her head leaning up to kiss him again, this time eager for more. This is what she had been waiting for, for months. He didn’t realize how much she waited and waited for a simple kiss, scared that it would go too far. He did, however, know because whenever his face did get close to hers, he would always go past and whisper in her ear, or pluck off a loose strand of hair off her clothes or shoulder. Her response was always hitting him lightly on the shoulder, always playing it off as “a missed opportunity to kiss a fellow rebel of the school.” He was always good at reading body language, especially with how he could feel her heat radiating off of her and onto him. Her breathing, her pulse was rippling through him as their lips locked in place. Soft tender kisses only fueled this little ember her flames, as she started to pull away to place kisses on his jaw, to turn back to pay attention to his lips. Sabo turned his body, glancing a little to make sure he was in the correct position to lift her up bridal style and as softly as possible place her on the bed. Y/N clinging onto Sabo with trust, but not harshly. His body started to lean forward as they still kissed, clearly past the kissing mark that he only intended on doing today to further tease her. Y/N’s need was further shown as she let go, but grabbed onto his collar with one hand, nearly toppling on top of her frame, right knee in between her thighs. His eyes darted around to make sure there were no accidental touches on her body, elbow propping hims up so it was the perfect height to look at her alluring eyes. Her eyes shined his reflection back at him, he could see his own excitement within her pupils. Leaning down, his lips hovered above hers, trying to be tender to ease her excitement just a tad. Sabo knew it was slow, especially when her other hand was running through his hair and grasping it to push him deeper into the kiss. His one arm propping him up on the bed, his left hand snaked up under Y/N’s black shirt and onto her hip, rubbing small circles and giving a gentle squeeze to let his cold wet hands get warmed up by this cute little “ember” of his. Her body tensed, but his hand went up to feel the softness of her waist, gently kneading it between his palm and thumb to get a signal if she was ready. Small mewls trickled out of her lips and onto his tongue. To pull away slightly to give a little distance, but their noses touch, as his right hand crept up to place a finger over her lips, his elbow sliding up near her shoulder to hush her a little.

“This is a girl’s only dorm, right? We can’t get you kicked out of the dorm before college starts, right baby girl?” Her body rippled with a few shakes, he could tell she was excited, but it was well past the time to be loud, to be Ace loud anyway. “Good job,” his mouth went back, but this time, his tongue explored her mouth to get to know her small little world. The hand on the waist crept up onto her peak that was covered by her bra, gently squeezing it to only feel her tongue jolt from the pleasure. Sabo was finally grateful towards highschool for making them read books that are “classics”, but really they were erotica if they really thought long and hard about it. The shifting on the bed made him pause to look down, her fingers had pushed down her pajama pants and underwear past her core, but just below it to test the waters. Gently, the hand on her valley, went to her sea, wet so that his fingers could take a deep plunge. He was ready to play the long game, unlike his brother and he knew it would mean more in the end anyway. Hand cupping her waters, his fingers dipped in, her moan almost fully out but her hand covering her swollen lips. Only one finger, all the way until his knuckle was still poking out. Curling his fingers so softly, to see where that sweet treasure was underneath it all, when her knees bent together to grab at his leg. There it was, as he pulled out his finger, he inserted his middle finger, doing the same, but he could tell Y/N was on the brink of cumming. Her walls were shaking, pulsating, hugging his fingers as if calling them to go deeper and to stay. 

“S…Sabo,” her voice trembled. Dragging out his fingers, she could feel the fingers leave, almost whining at the lack of presence within her. Those skilled fingers, digging into his wallet to grab a condom that Ace had always preached would be of good use, which was a blessing and a curse. Tearing the condom and letting Y/N catch a breath, standing up just to pry off his pants to his ankles, kicking his combat boots that he never even bothered tying up again when he left the treehouse to the side with his pants off, but his boxers still on. Sabo adjusted himself, leaning again, close to Y/N’s face, whispering in her ear so quietly, that the rain almost was interrupting their lesson.

“Oh baby, just don’t be too tense for me, I don’t want it to hurt for you love,” his voice cooing in her ear made her dripping pussy shake as if it heard it all. Gently pushing his boxers down, and rolling on the condom on his throbbing cock, he rubbed it against her lower lips. His body eclipsing hers, as he slowly welcomed the warmth around him. 

“Ah!” Her mouth parted, but he was too slow groaning himself. This is what Ace was all crazy about, and he understood. Back in the original position he was in, he started to kiss her lips to quiet her down, pushing his length as deep as it would go, her throat swallowing to try and stop her sinful moans.

“I’m going to move now, does it hurt?” Words like feathers tickled her ears as she shook her head, tears slowly creeping up in her eyes. Ah, so it is her first time too. “It’s okay baby girl, I’ll go slow”. His hips went slow, making sure she could adjust to a little movement, her small voice nearly being swallowed by his long kisses. Until after a few moments, they stopped making out entirely. Sabo’s hair touched the bed as his pants were breathed onto her ear, her teeth biting on his shoulder to try to muffle the pleasure, but it was too late. The sound of skin slapping each other, his balls hitting her thighs, his hands gripping the sheets around their bodies as her hands scratched little trails on his back. “Fuck, I am cumming baby,” his hips snapping in precision to hit that one sweet spot of hers. Her teeth sunk in as her legs wrapped around his body, a wave going through her body, as it calmed as he rode out her wave. Groaning deep as he released his seed in the wrapper. Both huffing and puffing as his body collapsed beside her, looking at the sheets with droplets of red beneath her body. Lifting her body up and onto her study chair, he switched out the bed sheets with new light blue sheets, lying her down on top without even trying to put the top sheet properly on the bed. Climbing bed to wrap his lean arms around her, planting a kiss on her forehead, smiling. 

“Love you Sabo,” her soft voice returned to normal as she pecked Sabo’s neck. Stroking her dry locks, he pulled her close into his chest, as his eyes drifted off into sleep.

He woke up a lot earlier, because he didn’t want to get chewed out, as he saw Y/N sleeping quietly as the sheets moved up and down to her breathing patterns. Tossing the old sheets in the hamper, he put on his still damp clothes, tying his boots finally and opened the window. “Hm? Sabo?” Sabo turned his head only to see Y/N sleeping, her body curled up hugging the pillow replacing his body. A smile creeping onto his lips as if he saw something he could tease her about later, his feet dangling as he hopped out the building. The window shutting as he landed. There was no silhouette this time, but he knew he would see that figure again one day. Whipping out his phone he saw he missed seven calls and had a bunch of text messages.

[10:12PM Gah! Sorry! - Little Luffy]

[10:09PM Get your ass back here! Blame Luffy for this shit. Now I am in trouble - Hothead Ace]

Only to see one message at the very bottom saying words that prompted Sabo to maybe sleep in the treehouse that night.

[9:58PM You better get your ass back here brat!! Breaking curfew and chasing girls is NOT what you should be doing. Be back here by 10:15PM or else I’m beating your ass - Angry Carpy Garp]

Well, it was already 11:24PM, but it didn’t matter if he got caught in the tree house anyway, because he ignited a fire with himself. It was worth every beating he would get when he came back with a smile on his face.

[bellarkeselection]

Burning Desire for a Dutton

Request from Wattpad VOIDRANBOO - Reader is Rip’s best friend and is a secret relationship with Kayce. Beth helps get them together but they are both worried of how Rip will react

Kayce’s horse halted outside the barn with me waiting inside the barn doorway. I was wearing one of his black cowboy hat, a light blue flannel shirt, some ripped blue jeans and some dusty boots. He dismounted his horse coming over to me wrapping his arms around my waist hugging me. “Morning darling, I’ll grab the gear really quick and then we can go.”

“Yeah that works. I’ll go tell Beth so she doesn’t freak out where we are.” Breaking the hug I headed towards the main house heading up the stairs. Entering the living room seeing her sitting on the couch with a cocktail.

She sat it down tapping her fingers against the glass. “How long are you two going to hide around this place. I mean it took almost two years before I finally got you two to get together.”

“He was married for a year, Beth. Honestly I still feel guilty sometimes that I broke them up.” Shrugging my shoulders I wrapped my arms around myself.

She scoffed sipping from her glass. “Yeah but Monica just couldn’t handle dealing with our family. But you can so that means you are meant to be in this family.”

Moving to sit beside her on the couch I tucked hair behind my ear. “I wish it was that simple, Beth. Even though Kayce and I are sneaking around like this, it doesn’t mean I like it. It’s only a matter of time before Rip finds out about us.”

“Look I’ll handle Rip if you want me to. Now go on and hang with your boyfriend.” She patted her hand on my back where I got to my feet leaving her alone going down to the barn.

Entering the barn I threw my saddle up onto the horse where it makes a noise. Kayce walked into the room with his own horse wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. Spinning around in his arms draping my arms around his neck grinning. “I’m sorry we’re having to hide this. I know that you want me to meet Tate someday. And to take me out on a date in public.”

“Hey, don’t worry Y/n. We can keep this a secret until you’re ready to tell him what is going on.” He declares leaning down kissing me slowly. Gripping his jacket in my fingers I deepened the kiss where my boots slide down when I leaned up on my toes.

Kayce and I had been hiding our relationship from Rip for almost two years. We were out at a bar drinking one night after he had a fight with Monica and it just somehow happened. I never intended to fall for the youngest Dutton but it happened regardless. He moved his right hand to my lower back he pressed me closer while his left hand before he pushed my back against the wooden stall. Running my fingers through his curly locks hearing him moan. “What the hell are you two doing!”

“Rip!” I shrieked gripping Kayce’s shirt turning as white as a ghost whipping my head around in that direction.

He was standing in the center of the doorway arms crossed over his chest slowly stomping up to me and the young Dutton. I gulped taking his hand in mine feeling nervous when he stopped in front of me. “Either you tell me what exactly is going on now or I’ll be kicking Kayce’s ass in a few hours!”

“Rip, before you think this isn’t a serious thing it is. I am not with her just to get back at Monica or something else crappy.” Kayce held up a hand trying to defend himself feeling nervous that he would get in trouble if he got into a fight with him.

Rip and I lived near each other and I was there the day he met John. I’ve been through everything with him and the Dutton’s. I owed them everything that they had given me even when I worked hard for it. He walked towards us pushing me away from him grabbing Kayce by his shirt getting in his face. “What made you think that you could just go and date my best friend. She isn’t a bunkhouse girl you can just knock up like you did that Indian girl.”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that.” Kayce held his hands up in surrender glancing in my direction.

Stepping towards them I didn’t want them to fight over me. “Rip, please let him go. He isn’t an asshole. We we’re just afraid to tell you because you would overreact like you are now. I just need you to trust me. I have never lied to you and I never will.” I begged him with some puppy dog eyes.

“Does anyone else know about this?” He asked shifting his gaze downward to me.

“I got them together, baby.” The three of us turned our heads back in the direction of the doorway. We caught sight of Beth stomping towards us placing her hand on his shoulder. “And do you want to know why. Because I have to listen to Y/n go on and on talking about how much she hated that it was taking forever for Kayce and Monica’s divorce to go through. I couldn’t stand it anymore so I sped up the process and then they just let their desire do the rest.”

“Bethany!” I grumbled running my hands through my hair.

She shrugs her shoulders not moving from her position. “I’m not wrong.”

Rip finally released his grip on Kayce dropping him onto the ground where I moved past him helping him to stand on his feet. He grunted leaning into my chest where he nodded at Rip. “I would never hurt her, Rip. If anything…I think I’m falling in love with her.”

“Awe I love you too, Kayce.” Grinning up at him I leaned up kissing him where it turned into a passionate kiss very quickly. He wrapped his arms around my waist never breaking the kiss even though the other two were standing right in front of us.

Beth nudged her lover. “See I told you. She can’t help her burning desire for a Dutton.”

“I suppose none of us can.” He wrapped his arm around her waist kissing he forehead.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Lights

CW: Pet whump, whump of a minor (OC is 17), some conditioned internal ableism, Oliver Branch is a goddamn creepy intimate whumper, isolation, captivity, referenced drugging

For @amonthofwhump day 4: Holiday light show

Chris’s masterlist

-

The grounds of the governor’s mansion are nearly silent as Baldur moves nervously, following his Sir. The blindfold - really a sleep mask, soft as fur against his eyelids and with elastic holding it on - keeps him dependent on Sir’s hand in his. It feels like being led by a leash. It should be comforting but it only makes Baldur shiver harder as a chill breeze seems to find its way up his sleeves and underneath the hem of the perfectly draped blue sweater his Sir had allowed him to wear with his usual soft pants.

His feet are bare, and the ground is so cold it makes his toes burn and tingle. Eventually, though, he doesn’t feel the grass very much at all.

“S-sir-”

“Ssssshhhh. Be quiet, sweetheart.” Sir’s hand squeezes his, once and then again. There’s laughter in his voice, and Baldur turns towards it like a flower finding the sun. If this is a game, he hasn’t given Baldur the rules. Not that it matters - even when he does know the rules, Sir almost always makes sure he loses anyway. “Remember your most important truth, darlin’?”

“Statue boys… are good boys,” Baldur says. His tongue hates the words, moves thick in his mouth around them, but he doesn’t have a choice. He says it anyway. It’s the first thing he learned from his handler, beaten so deeply into him he could say it in his sleep, he probably does say it in his sleep. “Silence is better than… than stammering. Stillness is better than what-... I do.”

“Good boy.” Another squeeze, and warmth that feels like rotten honey blooms in his chest. He finds a smile, but he doesn’t know if Sir can even see it or if he’s even looking. It feels good to be praised, but it feels like poison, too. Like the news story he saw on how sometimes animals eat antifreeze because they think it tastes sweet.

He can’t remember what antifreeze is.

But he knows what it means to have poison given to you like ice cream. 

The two of them move over the grass, the blades tickling Baldur’s bare feet. Dew hasn’t set in, yet, the grass is still dry. Then he is stopped, and Sir puts hands on his shoulders, turning him around in circles until he cries out with dizziness and tries to grab on to anything he can to keep his balance.

Sir’s hand claps over his mouth to muffle him as he comes to a stop, the man’s warmth and solidity just behind him, something to fall back against as his chest heaves with rough breathing. If only Baldur could trust his Sir to catch him if he fell, and not simply to watch him, and laugh, and bring his belt down again.

“Did I not just tell you to shut that pretty mouth?” Sir whispers against his ear, slowly pulling his hand away and back to his shoulder. Baldur’s eyes close as tightly as they can behind the blindfold to try and keep back the rush of hot tears, the only part of him that feels warm. “I still have security here at night, you know.”

“I, I know-”

“If they found you, I would go to prison, darlin’.”

“... Sir-... I’m sorry, sir-”

“And you know what would happen to you?” The whisper is suddenly vicious where before it was soft, and Baldur’s spine straightens, every muscle locking. But he can’t even begin to remember how to pull away.

“... I, I do, I know-”

“You’d go right back into WRU. They’d wipe you and start over again, only you’d be even worse off this time, sweetheart. Do you want to go back to WRU?”

“No! No, sir, please no, please-”

The hand claps tightly again. “I said be quiet, Baldur!” This time those fingers clamp painfully, jamming his lips against his teeth, until he whimpers. Only then does Sir slowly lift his hand, hovering, ready to press down again. 

Baldur swallows, his voice thick, heart racing just beneath his breastbone. His hands are shaking, his stomach has frozen inside him. “I’m s-sorry, sir, I’m, I’m, I’m-”

“Baldur.” His Sir’s voice drops, suddenly low and threatening. 

“I’m… sorry.” He fights his voice to keep it calm and low, soft and even, only a little trembling and not stammering at all. “Silence is better than stammering, silence is better than… I’m sorry, sir.”

“That’s better. Now… I did the unveiling officially earlier, I couldn’t show you that, but…” He lays a hand over Baldur’s eyes and pulls off the blindfold in the same smooth motion, keeping him in the dark. “One… two… three.”

Sir pulls his hand away.

There’s a pause.

“Well?”

“Um… Sir, may I… open my eyes now?”

Sir laughs, harsh and mocking, and Baldur feels blood pool hot in his cheeks. “Yes, Baldur, darlin’. That’s the idea. Oh, you stupid pretty thing. Look!”

Baldur opens his eyes, embarrassed that he didn’t understand that the game had changed, but then all sense of being worried and frightened fades as he takes in the sight of the governor’s mansion, just over the swell of the small hill they stand on. 

It’s lit up, not only the warmth of the lights inside and the grand Christmas tree in the big window, but with strand upon strand of lights hung from every conceivable surface all along the outside. His hands creep up to cover his mouth, instinctively muffling his own gasp. There are white lights, blue lights, red and green. Baldur’s eyes follow the shapes they create, draping from awnings and curving over the high doorways. His mouth drops open without him knowing it, and he leans back against the support his Sir provides behind him. There are warm arms over his chest and around his stomach, and he slowly rests a hand on each of them, ignoring how his skin crawls.

That’s less important than the lights, than the gift he is being given of getting to see them from the outside, not trapped within. 

“Sir… the house-”

“Mansion,” Sir corrects him, voice low and affectionate. “Let’s not sacrifice accuracy just because we’re a little bit starstruck, darlin’.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” He whispers, but he can’t be frightened enough of the words. He can’t feel the fear he should feel. All he can see is the beauty of the lights. His eyes follow the trail of one set. It’s decorating the window to the room Sir eats breakfast in sometimes. Baldur has peeked through that curtain to watch the school buses come and memorize the knock-kneed nervous stride of the teenagers, so like him and so entirely different than he will ever be. “It’s… beautiful.”

“I know.” Sir rests his chin on top of Baldur’s head, and it’s the gentlest and sweetest he’s ever been. The pet closes his eyes briefly in something that would be contentment, if he wasn’t still terrified of the man who holds his entire life in his hands. His collar is buckled safely around his throat, a sign that he can’t be hurt too badly, not with it on. 

He’ll be safe, as long as Sir doesn’t take off the collar.

He never really feels safe, though.

“I’ll get some good press for this,” Sir murmurs. His voice is a low rumble, the vibration traveling through his chest into Baldur’s back right through the thin sweater. Baldur is still shivering in the cold, but Sir doesn’t seem to notice. “I was able to get some local businesses involved, so it didn’t cost the taxpayers extra. It’s good for my reputation. I’ve got an interview with the morning show tomorrow, Baldur darlin’, so you’ll need to sleep in a little bit until I’m done, hm?”

Baldur takes a breath, the beauty of the lights fading.

Sleeping in is a code, he knows, for being given extra pills to keep him unconscious in the bed while Sir sits across the room calling in using a camera on the television. Sir likes to flirt around the edges of being caught with Baldur, likes the adrenaline rush of it. He doesn’t care that it gives Baldur headaches when he wakes up, leaves him helpless and weak and nauseous, unable to eat and throwing up into the toilet sometimes, crying on the bathroom floor until finally he feels able to crawl into the shower and lay there under the hot water until it turns cold.

No, Sir doesn’t care about any of that. 

He likes Baldur that way. Likes to be the one who carries him back to the bed.

“Maybe if you look at them long enough,” Sir says, his smile in his voice - Baldur doesn’t even need to see his face. “You’ll dream about them while you’re sleeping through my interview. What d’you think, sweetheart?”

Baldur bites back and shoves down any honest answer that tries to fight its way out. Instead, he says softly, “I hope… I do dream of it. Thank you, Sir, for… showing me.”

Maybe if Sir is distracted enough, he can palm the pills, let them sit under his tongue and then spit them out and hide them behind the bed. Even if he has to lay still under the covers and pretend, curl up in the shower and plead feeling sick and listen to Sir laugh at him for being so weak, it’s better to pretend to feel those things than to actually have to feel them.

But, for just a second, when the hand first came off his eyes… he had seen only the lights. He had seen only the beauty of the house, and he hadn’t thought, in that second, at all about the ugly days he lives through inside.

Baldur stares at the Christmas lights until his eyes blur with the tears he hopes his Sir cannot see and punish him for. 

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlinthesnep @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things

[kagedbird]

Cicero Loves You, Listener!

TESSDE AU - Dark Brotherhood route

~ [First] ~ [Next] ~ [Prev] ~

When I opened my eyes, it wasn’t because of something startling me awake in the living world, nor from my dreams.

It was from a simple, gentle light from the sun laying directly across my eyes.

I stiffened momentarily, filled from head to toe in shame at having left the sanctuary without a word. Night Mother and Dread Lord Sithis were surely angry at my delayed return, but—

Kaidan nestled himself closer to me in his sleep, arms circling around me like a protective shield. Trying to bury himself impossibly close, clinging desperately onto me in his dreams.

I relaxed, despite our closeness, and let out a soft sigh.

Whatever wrath was left waiting for me, whatever I incurred from my actions, I didn’t regret them in the least.

Right here, with him, was home. And I longed to return to the other two just the same.

It was a shame I woke up so late. I would have enjoyed relaxing with him further, but with the sun all ready so high, it was only a matter of time before the others started looking for me.

And by others, I meant Cicero.

I couldn’t go back without knowing who I was and what I was meant to do. These dreams— the dragons, the prophecies, the bright blue and white lights from Nordic scripts— I had to know what was happening to me.

So with great remorse, I carefully nudged my sleepy companion. “Kaidan… wake up. We need to go.”

“Five more min’tes…”

I huffed, wondering if the old me had to deal with this too. “I’m sorry, I really would like to, but we need to get moving.”

He took in a deep breath, squeezing me tighter against him. I squeaked, the force of his hold closing in our proximity, and he stiffened, pulling away to look me in the face.

“Allora?”

“In the flesh,” I joked weakly, giving him a small smile.

He gaped, mouth opening and closing not unlike a fish, hands coming up to my face and inadvertently squeezing my cheeks.

“Allora. You’re here?!”

“Shh,” I tried shushing him, moving his hands away from me so I wasn’t spitting everywhere. “It’s still fairly early. But yes, I’m here. You were… fairly out of it last night. But I’m glad you’re back to—!”

I was pulled into his arms again, now pressed against his chest as he curled around me; a ragged drag of air pulling into his lungs. I paused, feeling his body shake against mine, and held a hand against his arm.

“Kaidan…?”

“Gods,” he half sobbed, hand carding into my greasy locks. “I thought you were gone fer good. I thought— I thought—! When I saw you last—!”

“Shh, honey, it’s okay,” I murmured, shifting up to reach up to his face and wipe away his tears. “I’m sorry I ran. It was to keep you safe. I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure what the others would do to you if they saw you talking to me. But that’s why we need to get moving now, okay?”

“Are you in danger?” Kaidan asked, looking me in the eye. I smiled softly, wiping away his remaining tears.

“Less than you. I’ll explain on the way. Okay?”

“Where are we headin’?” He asked, letting me sit up to grab my bag.

“Home.” I said, feeling a smile curl over my lips. “Take me home, Kaidan.”

There was no response for a moment, before his body shifted across the bed and he held me from behind; tucking his face into my neck once more.

I stiffened, feeling flushed across my cheeks, and coughed lightly into my hand. Goodness, were we together? Is that why he felt so strongly about me?

I was unsure how to proceed.

“Come on,” I urged gently, reaching up to the back of his head. Still rather tousled from the night. “There’s… plenty of time for this later.”

“...Aye. Sorry. I just…”

“Missed me.” I said, smiling at him as he reluctantly pulled away. “I know. I… I missed you too.”

“Did you really forget?” He asked, his eyes stricken with pain.

I nodded, hand gently touching the back of my head where a goose egg of a bump used to be. “Yeah. I remember some small things here and there, but a lot of it is… jumbled. It’s hard to loosen that knot.”

“We’ll set you straight.” He nodded firmly. Whether with confidence or unwillingness to believe otherwise, I wasn’t sure. Maybe both. “A’right. Let’s get going.”

Biting my lip, I touched his shoulder to keep him from moving, before giving him a soft kiss on his cheek. His face gained a pink hue, dusted across his cheeks and nose.

That was cute.

“Thank you.” I murmured quietly, gripping my bag’s straps in my free hand. “For looking. For continuing to search. For not forgetting me.”

Kaidan’s adam’s apple bobbed along the length of his throat, unable to speak. He instead chose to nod, watching me with a molten gaze.

“I’m… going to see if I can bathe here,” I said softly, turning from his heated stare. “I need to make sure Arnbjorn can’t find my scent. You should take one too.”

“...Aye.”

Sithis, this was… so much.

‘Night Mother guide me,’ I begged as I scurried out of the room, face impossibly flushed. ‘Guide me or take me to the Void. I’m not sure how much more of him I can handle.’

[ask-thebrothers-kaiba]

Seto's upper lip curled upward visibly, one brow raised, his eyes near about burning holes into hers in their intensity. Why was he here, wasn't that completely obvious? He hardly felt the need to justify a question like that with an answer. It didn't matter, anyway - it seemed to be a moot point, given that Mai had accepted his peace offering for the time being. Seto couldn't help but feel the least bit satisfied when she took the bouquet, her pretty face lighting up as she took in their fragrance. He held back a grin trying to escape from the corners of his mouth.

She had left the door open behind her after leaving to find a suitable vessel for her flowers, and taking this as an opening for himself to enter, Seto did so and closed the door behind him - locking it for good measure - and leaving his shoes behind in the entryway as a courtesy. He acknowledged her thanks with a rather acrid "You're welcome", following Mai to her kitchen. He watched her closely as she rummaged around her cabinets for a vase, his gaze lingering just a tad longer as she raised herself onto her toes, her nightgown lifting just high enough for him to see the rim of her underwear caressing her bottom...

He was staring, he knew, so when Mai eventually turned back to face him, he averted his gaze. Now was not the time. Not yet. There was a moment of shared silence between them as she put the bouquet away, the only sound in the room being the water from Mai's kitchen faucet filling the vase that now housed her bouquet. For Seto, this silence was an adamant refusal to continue the conversation they were having over the phone - he would not bring himself to apologize over this matter, no ifs and or buts about it. He'd already brought her flowers, shown up without causing a scene - that really should have been enough to tell her he was sorry; for the thing that really mattered, anyway. His attitude. Being too harsh, perhaps.

Seto contemplated letting her know right then, as her eyes met his, that he was still angry, still intended to make her redeem herself - but this would be easier done than said. Once Mai was finished with her vase, arranging her flowers just-so, Seto made his move. It took him all of about three long strides to meet her where she stood, his body coming up so close to hers she'd have to look up at him from below. Towering over her would be her first clue to the mood he was in, dually vexed, and the second would be how he leaned over her, forcing her to back up against the kitchen counter. Seto rested a hand behind her, his frame tense and unmoving. One more gracious movement and his face stood inches from hers, two ardent grey-blue eyes staring back at her with an intensity he was known for.

". . . Now, isn't this a predicament?" He drawled quietly, his free hand pushing the vase further away from them; the flowers didn't deserve what he intended to do with her, after all. He paid good money for those.

"You aren't entirely innocent in this either, Kitten. I find myself rather insulted, you have no idea who you've involved yourself with. You should've chosen better." Was that supposed to be self-deprecation? An insult? An apology? Anything to keep her guessing.

This was by no means a threat, but rather a callback to dialogues they were familiar with using in the bedroom. Despite what she may have thought, Seto knew her well enough - Mai was a sucker for romance, and in spite of his own ego, he found himself willing to oblige.*

*Let me be SO CLEAR right now, for anyone wondering: NO! This is not forced, this plot has been discussed over DMs and I repeat!!! I would never force a muse onto another! That is wrong and sickening and COMPLETELY out of character for Seto Kaiba. It simply would not happen. These characters have a somewhat preestablished relationship and a history of kinky behavior. He just knows what she likes. Thank you!

[robobee]

ronan and henessey share the same pair of crusty doc martens

[quickiesgirl]

Pleasuring Sensations - Chrissy Cunningham

Paring: Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+, Smut, Soft Sub/Dom, Vaginal Fingering, Chrissy Is A Senior.

Sleepovers in your house would never be allowed if your parents knew that someone you were dating was staying the night. The two of you being alone, locked away in your room, with endless possibilities would never happen.

But, they didn’t suspect a thing when you asked if Chrissy could stay the night, especially since she was another woman.

Yeah, that’s right, Chrissy Cunningham. You were with a fucking babe.

Chrissy came over after her cheer practice. She stood in front of the big mirror in your bedroom and told you about her day as she did her nightly routine, removing her blue eyeshadow with some of your wipes and pulling her blond hair out of her ponytail.

“Jason was being such a douche today.” She softly sighed, staring back at her reflection, “Ever since I broke up with him, he's always so rude to me.”

You listened to her talk as you grabbed a silky pair of pajamas you found in your closet so that Chrissy had something comfy to slip on.

“I'm so sorry, baby.”

You came up from behind and wrapped your arms around her waist, giving her a comforting kiss on her inner neck, “I'm here for you, and if you need me to, I'll go kick his ass.”

You gave her a little devilish smile as she turned around in your arms and stood on her tippy toes, reaching up and kissing you.

Chrissy was a good girl. She was so pure and perfect. She was the Queen of Hawkins High. When the two of you met, she wasn't like other teenagers. She wasn’t out trying to get drunk, party, or have sex.

In fact, she was extremely new to sex when you met. She’d never truly touched herself, pleased her body with a well-deserved orgasm. But, after the two of you started secretly seeing each other, you changed her. She became the horniest she's ever been and was constantly desiring you.

Her lips hungrily devoured yours, catching you off guard for a moment before you pushed yourself into the kiss and placed your hands against the small of her back, holding her into your body as her breasts heaved against your chest.

“Please, take me, y/n..” She breathily cried between your lips, earning a smirk from you. “You need me, baby?”

“I need you so badly.” She gave you those adorable puppy eyes and a little pout that you couldn’t refuse.

“Alright… But, you have to be quiet. You know my parents are home.”

Her head bounced, and you slid your arm around her waist, guiding her to the bed. She laid back in that cute, little Hawkins cheer uniform. You pulled back her green skirt, revealing her new crotchless panties.

“I-I put them on before I left the locker room. I thought you’d like them.” She told you, anxious about showing them off since it was a little out of her comfort zone.

“They're pretty, Chrissy.” You opened her thighs, staring at her perfect little pussy that was sticking out. Pale, smooth lips with wet, pink folds between them. “... so fucking pretty.”

You ran your middle and index fingers between her folds, sending a shiver through her body as she let out a little shuddered sigh and wrapped her legs around your waist. Your wet fingertips positioned themselves on her sensitive, untouched clitoris and began rubbing in a clockwise motion.

Your fingers teased her little bundle of nerves as you ghosted over her clit in a rhythmic motion. Chrissy gently gripped onto your bedsheets and breathed out, trying her best to keep her voice down as she watched your hand from below, working between her thighs, pleasing her like never before.

It didn't take much for you to give her an orgasm since she was still so new to the sensations. “Y-y/n?” Her gentle, shaken voice spoke up.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you do that thing where you curl your fingers inside me?”

You softly grinned, “Of course, I can.”

You ran your fingers down her slit and collected some of her arousal that was dripping out before you slipped your middle finger deep inside her, feeling her inner walls stretching and engulfing around you. She was so fucking wet and tight. It drove you wild.

Your fingertips caressed her plush inner walls as she let out a little moan, and her body fluttered below you.

Chrissy loved feeling your fingers inside her. It was such a comforting and sexual feeling all at once and was too much pleasure for her to handle.

You found her g-spot and rapidly curled against it as you rubbed her cute, bulging clitoris at the same time, watching her mouth drop open and let out a shuddered moan as she squirmed beneath you.

Her inner walls, squeezing and contracting around you.

“I’m- I’m going to-'' She lost her words as her head grew hazy and empty, her body dissolved into orgasmic pleasure as you fingered her through her orgasm.

“Good girl.”

You leaned forward and gently kissed her inner thigh, slowly pulling out. Your fingers coated with her thick, milky arousal.

You softly smiled down at Chrissy who was glowing with lust, and crawled up beside her on the bed, patting your lap, “Come here sweet thing.”

Chrissy let out a tiny hum as she scooted into your lap and wrapped her arms around your body, snuggling her face into your chest, using your breasts as pillows.

“I’ll get up in a few and make some popcorn. We can watch Better Off Dead while we cuddle.” You looked down at her and ran your fingers through her soft, dirty blonde locks.

“That sounds perfect.” She smiled at you before suddenly lifting up and positioning her thighs on either side of yours, her soaking pussy seated in your lap.

Chrissy wrapped her arms around the back of your neck and gave you a sweet, little kiss. “I love you.”

Your hands sneaked up her green skirt and squeezed her ass cheeks as you pulled her closer, gazing into those beautiful blue eyes, “I love you more, Chrissy.”

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

September prompts are giving me LIFE - I am so ready for fall.

Hope you're doing well ✨✨ Perhaps you can bless this feed with a rare deep conversation moment between Darry and Dally with 1, 3, and 16?

Take care 💅

I'm Sorry

A/N: Hope you like how it turned out! It's a little sad, but deep conversations often are <3 thanks for requesting!

“Did I ever tell you I was sorry about your parents passin’ away?”

Dally’s words were soft in the empty living room. He didn’t look at Darry, just stared into the mug of coffee the eldest Curtis had poured for him when he came loping in the front door. It had gone lukewarm now, just warm enough to drink but Dally’s appetite had vanished the second his eyes landed on the rocking chair sitting in the corner of the living room.

“No,” the other boy replied simply, no offense in his tone. It was a fact. “Didn’t show up to the funeral neither.”

Dally remembered coming into the Curtis house late at night with busted lips or bloody knuckles, only to find Mrs. Curtis sitting quietly in her rocking chair, a basket of yarn by her feet as she worked on her next project under the warm light of the lamp. She’d patch him up in the kitchen, tutting while she cleaned about how he needed to be careful next time and how fights never solved anything. Whenever he’d try to slide out the backdoor after she finished, she’d always give him that look, and Dally would end up spending the night on the couch and eating breakfast at the kitchen table the next morning. The last time it happened was only two weeks ago.

“What are you gonna do with it?”

Darry followed the nod of the hood’s chin to the rocking chair and laughed softly, the noise coming out sad and broken.

“Probably put it in their room. She’d want that. I can’t imagine gettin’ rid of it. Might just shove Ponyboy over the edge.”

Dally only nodded and swallowed another mouthful of coffee.

“Y’know,” Darry said, eyes still locked on the rocking chair as his fingers dance across the speckled blue mug in his hands. “I don’t think they’d be mad at you for not comin’ to the funeral n’ all.”

Setting the mug down on the coffee table, Dallas ran his hands over his thighs a few times, trying to stop the shaking of his fingers. Two weeks. Two weeks ago, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were here, sitting at the kitchen table with their sons, eating breakfast without a care in the world.

“They knew how you were. Couldn’t keep you in for too long without you gettin’ all jittery. They liked havin’ you around though. Should’ve heard the way Momma went on about you sometimes,” Darry laughed quietly again, shaking his head. “Swear she worried more about you gettin’ into fights than she ever did for me and Sodapop.”

The silence returned to the living room, settling heavily over their heads.

“You should probably be headin’ out soon if you don’t wanna run into Ponyboy and Sodapop,” Darry murmured a moment later. “Soda said he’d start headin’ out to work again today, but Ponyboy’s stayin’ here with me.”

Nodding again, Dally stood slowly. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and finally tore his eyes away from the rocking chair. They landed on the photos hanging on the mantle and that jittery feeling returned. Mr. Curtis stood next to his wife, all smiling as they each held one of their two elder sons. Ponyboy stood next to his father, grinning proudly with a track medal in hand. Mrs. Curtis stood next to Sodapop as he did a handstand, smiling softly at her son. A family picture, the five of them, standing in front of the house, all holding onto each other.

Dally dropped his eyes to the carpet and tried to focus on the toes of his boots as he walked towards the backdoor.

“Thanks for stoppin’ by Dal. You know the door’s always open. Couch is here if you need it.”

“Hey, Darry?”

“Yeah, Dally?”

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

“I know you are. I know.”

[ticklishtimothee]

our final night alive (simon kalivoda x reader)

summary: the reader and simon are in the bathroom together before it all goes down. and hey, since all their friends are going to “pound-town” as simon would call it, why shouldn’t they?

a/n: i just watched fear street 1994 on netflix and totally fell in love with simon, so i wrote this. i promise i’m working on the requests in my inbox as well, i just had to get this idea out while it was fresh.

words: 1,740

While Kate and Josh go into the girl’s bathroom, you and Simon figure it’s best to leave them alone. So, you follow Simon into the boy’s room, the clothes you’d snatched from the lost and found clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, I’ll trade you this Iron Maiden t-shirt for the cardigan,” Simon grins.

“You want to wear this thing?” you ask, raising a brow and holding up the blue knitted nightmare in your hands. You can already tell how itchy the fabric would be against your skin.

Simon nods. “I think it would really accentuate my shoulders. I’ve been told they’re my best feature,” he says, winking.

“Whoever told you that was a liar,” you reply, but toss him the cardigan anyway.

He catches it easily, then tosses you the t-shirt in return.

He wastes no time in pulling the white t-shirt over his head, and you’re thankful to see it gone. It was bad enough that he’d been wearing it for all that time, regardless of the blood stains. You avert your eyes as he strips off his jeans as well.

“Nice tighty-whities,” you mutter.

Simon snorts. “Sorry for putting practicality over fashion.”

“Says the guy putting on a girl’s cardigan to fight monsters.”

“Touché.”

You turn to face the wall, pulling your own shirt over your head, checking your torso quickly for any traces of blood. Finding none, you pull the new t-shirt on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize Simon still isn’t making an effort to get dressed. Instead, he’s checking himself out in the mirror, and you can’t tell if he’s goofing off or actually looking for any stains to wash off of his skin.

“You have some blood on your back,” you tell him. “Can’t tell if it’s Sam’s or yours, but better safe than sorry.”

Simon looks in the mirror, tilting his head to catch a glimpse, and furrows his brows. “I don’t see it. Help me out?”

You grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the sink. “Turn around.”

He does so, and you find the blood in question and wipe it off.

He jumps under the touch. “You couldn’t have used warm water?” he asks, difficult as always.

“I could let this sink run for five minutes and it’d be warm at best,” you reply. “You think this place has the budget for hot water?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a pause, and you’re still standing behind him, your eyes scanning over the pale expanse of his back, taking in each freckle. His shoulders were pretty nice, actually.

“You know you’ve gotta change your pants, too,” he says.

“Oh, right,” you say, cheeks burning. You go back to the pile of your things. When you look up, he’s watching you. “Am I allowed a little privacy?” you ask.

He smiles. “You could go into the stall.”

You roll your eyes. “Or you could turn around and not be a pervert.”

“Hey, you already saw me in my underwear,” he points out.

You scowl at him, then hook your thumbs into the waist of your pants and pull them down in a quick, fluid motion. You toe off your shoes to take them off entirely, leaving them on the tiled floor. “Happy?” you ask.

His smile fades. “What happened to your thigh?”

You look down and see the injury he’s referring to. Honestly, you’d been so caught up in everything going on, you’d barely noticed the shallow gash in your skin, but now that it was brought to the forefront of your mind, the dull ache began to settle.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I guess one of those psychos grazed me.”

Simon takes another wad of paper towels. “May I?” he asks.

You nod, and he dampens them under the faucet. “Come put your leg up to the sink.”

You do as he says, wincing at the first contact he makes with it.

“Sorry,” he practically whispers. “I don’t have anything to bandage it up with, but the least we can do is get it clean, okay?”

“Okay.”

His face is close to your bare leg, making goosebumps rise where his nose and lips brush the skin. He’s gentle with you, one hand holding your leg steady while the other dabs at the wound tenderly, and you watch as the red mess slowly begins to clear up, leaving the wound still open but no longer bleeding.

“There, that should be better,” he says. “When we find the others, maybe they’ll have something to patch you up with.”

“Thanks.”

You place both feet back on the ground, standing before Simon, both partially undressed (him more than you) and trying to hide the feelings of terror in both of your chests.

“Do you think Deena and Sam are gonna make up?” you ask. “Oh, I think they’re probably fucking as we speak,” he replies.

You give him a light smack to the back of his head. “You’ve got such a dirty mind.”

“I’m serious! Kate and Josh are probably doing it, too. The whole last-night-on-earth thing gets people horny, don’t you know?”

“Oh, so we’re all gonna be killed by some freaks, so we should be banging?” you ask.

“Are you asking in general, or about us?”

You pause. “Both.”

His cheeks flush pink, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “In general, yeah, I think it’s human instinct to seek out some pleasure before the end. As for us, well...If you’re down, I’m down.”

You stare at him for a second. “Really?”

“Only if you want to, I mean—”

You grab him by the shoulders and kiss him, effectively cutting off his rambling.

In no time, he’s pushed your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom, kissing you back fevertently. You thread your fingers through his blond curls, and he sighs against your lips.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and he brings a hand between your legs, fingers running over your underwear teasing, making you shiver. 

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, unable to meet your eye. “But I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”

“Me either,” you tell him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

He nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this time rubbing you through your panties. You whine softly into his mouth.

“Does that feel good?”

“Try doing it a little gentler—oh, yes, like that…”

You can feel his hard cock against your belly as he reaches his hand down the front of your underwear. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”

Carefully, he finds your hole and presses one finger inside, making you clench nervously at first.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Try to relax for me,” he all but coos in your ear, and you do so.

He lets his finger slowly curl and uncurl inside you, stretching you out.

“Do you want to…?” you ask.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

“Well, if you get me pregnant, we’ll probably be dead before it’s even got arms and legs.”

He chuckles, and you appreciate that he’s able to find humor in the fucked up things, just like you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He yanks down his underwear, and while you’d teased him about it before, the tight, white fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. Simon wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up, bringing you over to the sink and sitting you down on the brim of it.

“There’s no way this thing is gonna hold us,” you say.

“If we break it, we’ll be dead before they make us pay for the damages,” he replies, and you laugh.

He makes quick work of pulling your panties down, and they fall to the floor as he parts your knees. “Please tell me if I hurt you,” he says. “I want it to feel good.”

You nod. “I promise.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward. He misses the first time, sort of poking the head of his cock into the crease of your thigh, and you both chuckle awkwardly at the mishap. The second time, he gets closer, but his cock slides upward and between your folds, making your legs jerk in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The third time, he succeeds, and the initial stretch of his head entering you makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Should I stay still for a sec? Let you adjust?”

You nod, and so he does.

“You can move now.”

Slowly, he rocks his hips forward, and you manage to take more of him. Without you asking, he waits again, letting you get used to the feeling.

Your nails dig into his back. “You can go, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Simon, I’m sure,” you reply.

“Alright, I’m just double-checking!”

He fucks you carefully, his own movements a bit robotic at first, but when you pull him close to lock your lips together once again, he falls into a rhythm, and your ass hurts from sitting on the stupid sink, but he feels so good, his hot breath tickling your neck as he fucks you.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I’m already—”

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. You can come, just try to pull out,” you say.

He nods, and you can see him scrunching up his face, trying to gain some control and keep from cumming. It doesn’t make him last much longer, and he pulls out just in time, and you scoot to the side in a hurry, his come landing in the basin of the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I can try to finger you again, or something.”

You laugh. “Simon, it’s fine. Some dudes would have come just from seeing me in my underwear. It’s fine.”

He nods, and his forehead is slightly sweaty, hair sticking to it, and his cheeks are flushed.

“I feel bad if you die and I didn’t give you an orgasm,” he says.

“Well then let’s both try our hardest not to die, and you can give me one another time. Deal?”

He grins. “Deal.”

[witch-hazels-musings]

I'm curious of how characters would use their visions in the bedroom 👀 Like, Kaeya would totally do temperature control stuff.

Could I request headcannons or narratives for how Diluc and Albedo would use their visions for your pleasure? (or for theirs 😳)

Note: I believe vision can only be used when they are in the possession of the person they were gifted to ( primary reason: Diluc giving his away - if anyone could have used it he would have given it to his father, and if he didn’t really need it to use his vision, he wouldn’t have taken it back ) 

Warning -> slightly funny? 18+ OMG PLEASE RESPECT THE 18+! NS_FW!!!! ( foreign penetration, voyeurism (Alb), burning clothes, no injury, held against wall (D), orgasm denial, foreplay, hydro bondage, hydro foreplay, voyeurism (C)) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

( okay … so this one is gonna be the strangest one I’ve ever done?, and I’m apologizing right now for it --- i’m literally so embarrassed, ima hide under my desk DONT JUDGE ME T.T )

Includes: Albedo (i’m sorry), Childe, Diluc 

Albedo

A vision in the hands of Albedo is a tool for many uses - he sees it less as proof of his power and more of a means to an end  - it’s an extension of what he has available and he’s learned to adapt it to any possible scenario 

Now he’s learned there are ways he can use it to satiate you while he continues to do his work - and, if he’s feeling especially devious, inquisitive to the point of combustion, he may just watch 

“Alb--bedo …” You adjusted, legs pressed together so intensely that you thought you might break your kneecaps. Shaking hands gripped onto the closest thing they could while you did your best to stay seated just where he placed you. 

“Try not to move too much, it will alter the drawing.” He sat with his leg resting over his thigh, the large sketchpad he had propped up there was bouncing vigorously as his hand ran across the paper. The pencil, when you could see it through your blurry vision, was dancing across the parchment in unbelievable speed as if to capture what was before it. 

The vibrations that shook your body seemed to fluctuate from intense stimulation to slow, steady pulsations. Every dip in frequency allowed you room to breathe, your hands moved to your face, teeth bit onto your fingers as your hips rocked against nothing as they sorrowfully tried to help you get off. 

“Be-do, please …” You whined, eyes glossing over as you looked at him. Did he laugh, did he smile at you, how heartless could he get. Under your rippling vision, you saw how it glowed brighter and richer in color, and yet, as if you didn’t comprehend its meaning, your hands flew down to grab onto the chair while the resonating stimulation grew between your legs. “Ah!” You slid further into the chair, your head resting on the back of the chair as your fingers gripped and pushed against the edge of the seat. Arching your back, lifting your legs up onto your toes you couldn’t help the moans and pants that fell from your mouth at an unreasonable pace. 

“Hold that pose.” Albedo’s voice was calm even if the speed at which he turned the page wasn’t and, as you gazed at him you couldn’t help but lose your mind at the way he observed you. The intensity of it was so powerful that even though you knew he wasn’t inside of you, it felt like he was. 

You crashed like a runaway cart into your orgasm, it shook you to your core, and even though you were screaming moments ago all that came out now was a high-pitched whimper. Deep breaths were all that you could take as you clenched around the object Albedo had placed inside of you, it was so hot that you started to pull at your shirt, and soon your hands found their way to the spasming place between your legs. 

Albedo’s voice suddenly sounded much closer to you, his lips pressing to your forehead while his hand rested on the one you had near the object. “You did excellently, but I’d like to see more of you if I could, will you assist me again?” 

In your dizzy haze, you glanced at his bright eyes and with a gaping, air-sucking mouth, you gave your reply. 

 Childe

There was no need to keep his skills at manipulating hydro out of everything that he did, why would he when he was so beyond capable at making it do exactly what he wanted. Whether that be from creating blades out of it, spears in its likeness, or even shackles to hold people down - he was learning just how versatile water could be 

How could he not give everything he’s ever wanted to try to his partner who had shown him on multiple occasions a level of trust he knew he didn’t deserve, and a willingness to let him do what he wanted -- you always gave him permission, and you were doing it even now 

Your back arched as his hands slid under your pants. The way he touched you so perfectly made your vision go dark before lighting up under the stars. As soon as he put pressure right where you needed it, fingers bending and flexing to let you know how much control he had over you, the sound of pleasure and excitement that slipped from your mouth gave him access to the tongue inside of it. 

He played with you, toyed with the tightness in your stomach. Every time you were about to break under his stimulation he pulled away just to watch how much you’d whine. 

“Childe, please …” You shifted under him as he slowly, painstakingly began to remove your clothes. Each layer, every article which fell to the floor next to the bed felt like an eternity in your sinful sentence. The way his hands ran down your legs as he slipped off your pants, the sensation of his gloved fingers trailing down the center of your chest as he watched the way you squirmed and grabbed at his arm - he was enjoying it all and he had barely done anything to you yet. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you need, remember,” He pressed his lips to your neck, your collarbone, and in the center of your chest before continuing, “If you want to stop, tell me immediately.” You nodded your head and he sealed your promise with a passionate kiss. 

In no time, he had you exactly in the state he wanted you, his eyes observing the beauty and perfection that lay before him and as your own gazed longingly, eagerly back at him, you noticed how his vision began to hum. It pulsed like a glowing heart and in your curiosity, you reached your hand for it only to find it was impossible. 

Tilting your head, you noticed there was a stream of water around your wrists. Funny, you couldn’t tell that your skin was wet at all. That’s when a new sensation began to work its way up to your legs and when you looked down to investigate, you noticed a swirling blue like rope beginning to creep its way further up your body. 

“What’s …” The smile that stretched his lips and seeped into his dangerous eyes made it so hard for you to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest, your stomach rippled with excitement, and the build-up in your body began to increase so much you were sure he was going to make you orgasm just from his stare alone. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, ready for wh-AH!” The flowing water reached your ache. The wetness of it made your body nearly seize as he worked its way into you. The moans and cries that left your burning throat were so loud you were sure someone was going to hear you. Desperately, you wanted to cover your mouth but your wrists were still locked above your head so instead, you tried to bite your lip but that only sealed in so much noise. 

“My, how adorable you look like this.” Childe hummed, his hand moving to stroke your chest as he leaned down to pepper kisses against your throat. “Let’s push a little further, what do you say?” 

The girth of the water increased and no amount of self-control was capable of holding back the scream released from your body. Your feet struggled against the mattress, futile attempts to assist you in raising your body off of the mattress came with frustrated huffs and whines in your throat. You called out his name and soon you heard the sound of rattling metal. 

“Damn, I made myself jealous.” Suddenly, all the water around your body ran down your skin and before you could understand what was happening, Childe positioned himself above you and worked at finishing what his hydro vision started. 

Diluc

He usually has so much more control - he had to learn in order to survive, but there were times, there were moments when all he knew was instinct and all he could do was feel 

With you, these moments came up more frequently than he would have ever anticipated - there is no switch to turn himself off when he gets lost in your body. You learned to never get him so worked up while his vision still rested at his hip (things were bound to burn) 

He backed you into a wall, his fever to have you was apparent by the intense way his hands ran over your body, tugged at your clothes, manipulated your hands with his. He was almost like another person, a delusion of himself. There was no way you could have known riling him up would lead to this and while it was incredible, the ferocity of him, the unreserved nature that he was capable of showing, it was also incredibly hot. 

“Diluc wait -” You tried to reach for his vision but his hands plastered yours to the wall. His lips claimed any part of your skin that they could and the pressure of his body against you, the feeling of his growing and dangerous erection crushing against your stomach made every rational thought in your brain fall to the floor he hardly let you touch. 

His strength always shocked you. For someone so thin it was often hard to remember that he was capable of it - even though you watched him fling his claymore around like it was nothing, even though on countless occasions he lifted you like you were a freshly sprouted plant; how deceiving his true abilities were to you and everyone else.

Your clothes began to cling to your body. The sweat dripping down your back, in between your legs, your neck all made you wildly informed his vision was active. You didn’t even need to see how it burned like a beating ember to know he was calling on its ability. He let go of your hands and began to work himself out of his jacket, undo his vest, and any other article of clothing he could all the while his mouth kept yours occupied. 

The heat from his tongue was near scalding, how was he able to let this fire seep through every single part of his being - was he not experiencing it too? When his chest was exposed, your hands ran over his rippled torso and the question you just asked yourself was answered as you felt how slick he was becoming. 

You pulled him closer, the resulting action making his body come into immediate contact with yours and the feeling of his cock digging into the soft and sensitive area between your legs made you burst in exclamation. Your head landed on the wall, hands slid around the hem of his pants and gripped so tightly onto them his hips pushed further into you. 

“It’s hot, it’s so hot.” You panted, gazing at him and hoping that your words made sense. Your body was hot, everything was hot, but while you wanted him to alleviate the heat, you hoped he’d remove one primary cause of it.  

Pinning your hands above your head, he quickly began to work on your pants. He wasted no time undoing the buckles and buttons that kept you clothed and as he helped you remove them there was a distinct smell filling the air. When you looked down, the fabric was starting to burn even with you still in it. 

“Diluc! Hold-ah!” Struggling against him, you began to shake your lower body and in his complete daze, he slowly came back to realization. In an instant, he let go of you and grabbed the nearest item to him to put out the flames. He was on his knees, his black shirt tightly wrapped around your chard pants afraid that if he didn’t keep it there the flames would get worse. 

“Y/N … I cannot apologize enou-” Your laughter cut him off, the expression he shot up to you was one of mass confusion as he searched for understanding. 

“If I had known you were going to burn my clothes, I would have teased you without them.” He shook his head and tried to apologize again, his eyes dropping to your legs, assessing them for any damage. “I’m fine, you didn’t burn me.” 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, his cheek pressing against your stomach as he held onto you tightly. Chuckling, you rested your hand on his hair and began to caress him, the soft movements reassuring him until he composed himself again and lifted back to his full height. Looking at his face, you could tell he was nervous, so you lifted onto your toes to give him a kiss of redemption. 

“Next time, let’s leave this,” you reached for his vision and easily removed it from his pants, “out of the action. What do you say, hot-stuff?” His eyes narrowed at your nickname but agreed to your suggestion anyway. 

--

( no one is tagged because I am too embarrassed to do that! ) 

[muffindaddystyles]

Will mafia!h and Y/N will have babies? 🥺💓

IM SO SORRY TO TELL YOU THIS BESTIE BUT.... </3

39. " I'm not saying a goodbye."

It was raining. Skies a gloomy shade of cinereal. Harry’s sleek car came to a screeching halt infront of the vast threshold of his home -- his grin pearlish, eyes twinkling a spark as he gets out of the car not caring to close the door behind. He greets his staff and strides two steps together with a gorgeous bunch of his lovie’s favourite flowers now dewy with raindrops and his nose twitched upon sniffing the vanilla-y smell while passing the kitchen and with his beam never vanishing he leaned into the doorframe asking the people inside, “’Ave y'seen Y/N?” Only for them to shake their heads in uncertainty.

She hasn’t showed herself downstairs since morning and even though it’s very odd of her not to chirp around the mansion nobody went to knock at her door to inquire, they think she deserves privacy.

This time they should have because when Harry barged inside their room it was caliginous with curtains shut and lights dimmed to zero.

“Lovie?” His cheery voice clamoured against the walls, a sour feeling he couldn’t be aware of pinches him in throat as he bobbed his head around to look for her and it perked up when a shadow falls on his feet.

“Baby?” His smile quirked back onto his confused features and he narrowed his eyelids to take in her presence through the darkness of wardrobe, “Harry.” A shaky whisper floated towards him and before that sweet call she was falling against his chest.

“Y/N ... baby —-,” His stumped chuckle halted, his brain numbed for a moment when his fingertips brushed up her back to push her closer to him and they trembled as they collected the wetness there. His heart bleaks a stinging pain into it’s cords, his breath shuddered coldly, flowers falling sadly beside their feet and his eyes earths with tears of panic, angst and torment.

His fingertips coating in his love's thick blood.

“I –- ‘m .. you –.. you’re h-hu —- hurt,” He stammered through a whimper hand wrapping around the dagger whose half end’s stabbed into Y/N's spine, her weak frail body unresponsive though she could listen to him.

“Who did this to you! Who did this to you!?” His screams and cries startled everyone downstairs and they rushed up to see what’s happening, to be shocked by their sights of Y/N limp in Harry’s embrace.

He turned his neck to shout at them, “I need a hand t’help me!!” His eyes bloodshot and Niall his best-man scurried over to them as Harry carried Y/N and laid her on her tummy on the bed, he slips onto his knees putting his chin on the mattress to look in her hazy painful eyes -- tears caged in them but never flowing down.

“Harry ...” She mumbled grittily in agony lifting her shaky fingers to pet his face and like an affection starved kitten Harry doesn’t let her tire herself and gets closer to her himself, “Niall bring the first aid, it’s under the sink.” He commands him not letting his eyes drift from over her angelic face.

“You’re okay baby. You’re okay, I know how to stitch up knife wounds.” He sniffled sucking in a breath trying to be brave for her and she just smiled gorgeously, lips blue and cheeks draining out of her usual berry stain.

“Jesus. Harry she’s been stabbed thrice, those fuckers,” Niall’s words wavered in fear and sympathy for Y/N. He squeezed Harry’s shoulder as Harry sobbed upon hearing that, “No –-... no, no! It’s still okay yeah poppet? I’m g’na get y'alright.” He wanted to covers his eyes to block the hurting groans Y/N elicited and he cradled her soft face in his warm palms in comparison to her temperature, touching their temples to pray together.

“Harry li .. listen to —- to me,” She gasps eyes flittering over his shoulder towards Bambi and Thumper the two dogs that had gotten overly fond of her, Harry’s blurry gaze follows her enfeebled gesture for them to come near her.

They whined and howled sadly flopping beside Harry and Harry hiccupped into his elbow shaking his head when Y/N put her hand under their ears in effort to scratch them but wasn’t able to unfortunately, “Hi babies. You’re gonna look after dad after ‘m gone?” Everyone cried at that watching her soul leave their dull lives that watered colourful upon her arrival.

“Don’t say that! Don’t y'dare say that!” Harry sobbed rushing to hug her tightly, the front of his shirt loathing crimson and she hissed looping her arm against his neck when Niall pulled the dagger out from her lower spine gradually and slowly not to hurt her.

“’M so sorry baby, sorry for being the reason of y’pain.” His tears dampened her already sweaty crook of neck, “Pr – promise me t-that that you’ll have some —.. someone who lov‐-.. loves –--,” She whimpered. Her body jerked into him with a force and she pushed him weakly away to stitch her lips tenderly against his's.

“Tell me bubby. Ha—- have I loved y'enough?” She cooed into their kiss and Harry bolted his eyes shut, poisonous sobs wrecking out of his chest.

“Tell me before, I go ...” Her heartbeat started dropping insanely, her lips wobbled, toes curling with life excavating out of her, “Y'have. Y'have don’t go baby, I’m not saying a goodbye!” He cried showering her in kisses for the one last time and pets her hair, eyes closed praying she takes him with herself because he'd never recover from the pain of loosing the only person he loved more than himself, the person who made hum love himself.

“I love you ..” She whispered, her loving kind eyes locked against his’s and the pool of honey around her rims expanded, her lips parted around the gasping breaths and Harry begged and pleaded — a side of him no-one has ever witnessed as he twisted in anguish considering himself the unluckiest man on the earth for letting his lover go like this, in the worst possible way.

“I love you, I thought I’d never be capable of, y'made me worthy darling. I'll always love you baby....” He shrieked into her chest heaving her up gently to embrace her properly and even though he knew she was no more with him, he fooled himself into thinking so.

If it was possible he’d have clawed his ribs to pluck out his heart in return of hers and he felt like the sun and earth had crashed vanishing away the time spaces as he sat there crying and crying mourning the loss of his lovie that could never be healed by anything in this whole word.

He keeps on holding her, rocking back and forth as he lulls her to slumber of death.

It hurts. It hurts so bad.

His heart weeps.

His soul aches.

When rain stopped and that tranquil silence doomed over them, rage filled his every pore and vein.

He knew who did this. Harry has played dirty but he has never played unfair. It was this gang of companies who sabotaged and destructed the orphanages at the property which belonged to his mother (but the papers weren’t clear) to build restaurants and apartments there so Harry took revenge by burning acres of their illegal drug running underground factory and rebuilt the orphanages and took Y/N to one of their charity events.

She was the happiest he had ever seen her.

It’s like a gun barrel clicked in. A firecracker catching the fuse of ashe to burst everything into flames as Harry laid her with ever most tenderness and kissed her temple, her lifeless eyelids and her chapped lips.

Cleaned the streak of blood with his sleeve and didn’t wipe his tears away bashing out of the room, everyone stepped away as Niall lunged infront of him to stop him before he goes to cause damage to himself more than to them for being in such a vulnerable and weak state.

“Step away.” He growled angrily, gaze fiery and dangerous.

“No.” Niall sighed.

“I wouldn’t get her buried in sucha cold blood. She didn’t deserved this, hell nobody does.” Harry kissed his teeth together gripping at his hair ruthlessly, cheeks dry with tears, his limbs trembling, his head spinning.

“Anyone who wouldn’t follow my orders gets their kneecaps blow-off.” He grunted -- nostrils flaring and saying this he went away, snatching his guns from the console and ordered his men to find the security guards that had their duties at the main gates.

In just a day he hunted each of those monsters down like a hungry wolf and gave them such punished, tortured deaths that each one fell in Harry’s feet for his mercy but his heart was turned into a stone already because the only warmth it had there was because of one person and that person’s gone leaving him to survive in this hellhole alone while he dragged these bastards to the depths of firepits.

Once, coming back home to her. To his sunshine, to his soul and life, to his reasons of getting up every morning so he would get to spend time with her —- he broke down. Into shattered bits and pieces of remorse, guilt and sadness feeling himself so small and hurtable as he cried to himself all alone in their garden with no-one to console him where he’ll come to meet her daily.

He wants to rip his skin apart and set it on fire for his beating heart to stop, for it stop feeling.

He feels sick. Fainting, in urgency and desperation to hold his baby and never let go.

To lay down with her under the soil if that's possible.

his only reason to live.

His only beloved.

.

The wind giggles through pink leaves of cherry blossom tree, lush grass resting peacefully and Harry smiles to himself treading towards his two most favourite people in the world.

The spring being their heartiest month.

“Azalea! What y’chattering ‘bout t'mum?” He asks and nods proudly when his lil boy stands up from his cross position on the ground from beside his mother and brushes the grassy spikes from his cherry printed shorts with his little pudgy hands.

“My first day at school dada!” The four years old squeals and Harry scoops him up in his arms, kissing his cheek again amount less times, “Is that so, huh! huh!” He tickles his little bun.

Y/N was right. Isn’t she always. Harry chuckles. Even if she’s gone he still feels loved from her, she’s in the rains, in the sweaters he wears when he feels shallow, in the scent of his pillows, she’s in the vanilla smell of their favourite cupcakes – she’s in his dreams and that name of their son, Azalea.

She always wanted to name their first born Azalea, a blooming flower that happens to be a vibrant pink, a gift of spring, are floriferous in sunshine and she'd always say that Harry would be their sun.

Their ever source of happiness.

Azalea was three days old when his mother died and Harry took him home even though not sure of his own decision but something in those little eyes that matches his mommy made Harry’s heart attract towards him so much he brought him without another thought.

A home he built with Y/N. The curtains of the mansion still remains pushed back wide, flower vases on every furniture, not a day goes by when anyone doesn’t misses her and the ducklings has grown so much that Y/N would have been spinning in happiness around.

Nothing has changed, life’s fleeting for everyone except for Harry. He counts each day and night that goes without her beside him in his sleep, in the little picnics with Azalea and Niall, in the story reading at nights with his baby, in kitchen to watch the winters first rain prattling against that one window that’s old enough to carry the remains of his ancestors, she’s never there to share a noodle pot with him while he sits and eat alone, never there to patch his favourite socks back, to kiss his forehead whenever he leaves home, to call him sweet names and to laugh with him on his silly jokes, to do thumb fights, to get angry with him whenever he refuses to layer himself in cold.

Never.

Never physically. But, she’s always there in his heart, her presence lurks around him and he could feel the warmth of her wrapping around him whenever he falls asleep watching telly.

“What did y'learn today bubba?” He asks Azalea and grins cheekily when Azalea babbles, “Colours!”

“That’s fuckin’ amazin'!” At that a huge gush of breeze hits him in face a tiny branch of the tree they’re standing under falls on his head.

“Kay' kay fine! No cursing.” He squeaks in defence pouting down at the grave of his lovie and his face splits into a grin when his hair glittered up with cherry blossom leaves.

“We miss you very much,” His voice heavy and sad. He gulps chokingly and blinks away the glossiness, stroking a thumb up Azalea cheek who’s sitting in Harry’s lap.

Every evening they come to meet Y/N, the hole in his heart couldn’t fill up of her void but the soothing feeling of relief that she’s in their garden and nearer to him has lessened the grief.

“G’na meet you tomorrow, our baby’s mighty hungry.” He chuckles hearing the grumbling noises coming from Azalea’s belly.

“You’re so cheeky baby.” His eyes glimmers and he feels himself swooning into breeze, “How’s it going in heaven?” He asks airily tracing his initials beside her beautiful name engraved at the tombstone and it’s like she’s scolding him when he gets a nip on his pointy finger.

“Azalea kiss mommy a goodbye.” Harry breaks into laughter when Azalea bobs his head and almost tumbles of his daddy’s lap in the effort to reach the tombstone.

“Goodbye beautiful.” Harry whispers kissing the top of her tombstone and his heart bursts into lilacs when once again he’s showered into petal like leaves.

“I love you too, baby.” Finally he has accepted to say goodbyes.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Yours, Mine, and Ours [7] Finale

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, general sadness and shittiness.

This is dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You must face change.

Author Notes: I got another old series tied up and I’m editing the last chapter of another one as well. I’m trying to clear some stuff out as best I can.

A special thank you to everyone who reached out to me over the last few days. And extra thanks to @lokislastlove​ for always encouraging me.

Please let me know what you think, like and reblog <3 love ya

Masterlist

Bucky knelt beside you as your ass throbbed in pain and your head thrummed. He touched your arm gently with his metal hand, his other on your cheek as he cradled your face. You met his blue eyes but he quickly lifted his head and glared across the room.

“Don’t fucking move or I’ll hit you again. Harder.” His snarl was so harsh and deep, it made you shiver. He turned his attention back to you as he helped you roll over and sit up, “Are you okay? Careful…” he backed off the bed slowly as he guided you to the end of the mattress.

You clung to him and glanced over at Steve as he spat blood onto the floor. His eyes darkened and his nostrils flared as he looked back but he made no move towards you, his head lolling just slightly as he sat straight. 

You let Bucky usher you to the door as he turned back and searched around the floor. He huffed and took off his jacket instead, draping it over your shoulders.

He pointed you through the door and followed, snatched the throw from the back of the couch and offered it as he urged you on. You found your purse where you dropped it and stopped to grab it, groaning at how your body ached. You continued to the door as he opened it and followed you out.

You were silent as you descended, cloaked in his jacket and the thin blanket. You came around the building and neared your car. He kept away from you but hovered as if you might keel over.

“I can’t drive,” you let your purse dangle weakly from your hand.

“I’ll take you back,” he said softly, “and then you don’t have to see me ever again.”

You nodded and rounded his car. You opened the door and slumped into the seat, your purse on your lap as you hung your head. It was over. You knew it was. You thought there would be a way to hold onto Steve, to find the man he had been, but he assured you that that Steve was gone. Everything you had was lost.

The engine turned and you barely noticed the blur of the city as it passed outside the windows. You fought against the wave of grief that swept over you and leaned your head back.

“You said I’ll never see you again,” you croaked, “but you saved me.”

“So? I did all those other things too,” he gripped the wheel and sniffed, “I’ll keep my distance. I started all this. I never should’ve-- I’m fucked. I try to act like I’m not but I am.”

“Bucky…” you said weakly.

“Don’t. I know it’s the truth and I know everything that happened to you is because of me. Steve’s an asshole. I don’t know what changed in him, but I’m worse,” he sighed, “I’m gonna resign. I’m gonna… look into rehab or therapy, whatever they got for me. I can’t stay near you or Steve. I can’t do any of it.”

You nodded and rubbed your hands together. Your body hurt but your soul hurt worse.

“No, I’m going,” you said, “I’m leaving. I’m not a hero like you or Steve. I don’t matter. And I can’t stay with him. I can’t even stay close because I know he won’t stay away. Right now, he’s getting up off that floor and you can’t tell me he’s not coming after us right now.”

Your voice cracked and you muffled it with a corner of the blanket. You hunched over as suddenly you felt nauseous and you held in a retch. Your body shook but you kept the sickness in and murmured.

“Please, just get me back,” you begged.

“I will,” he vowed, “I’ll make sure you get out and I’ll make sure he doesn’t stop you,” you heard him gulp between his words, “and after, if you ever need me to knock him on his ass again, I’ll be there. No strings, no expectations, we don’t even need to talk.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the door, watching the pedestrians and other cars. You could only think of everything that needed to be done; grab what you can, email Tony, go back and get your car and drive without stopping.

“Shit,” you sat up as you neared the compound, “I forgot my phone.”

“Good,” Bucky said, “he’s tracking it. Get a new one.”

👥

Bucky closed the yellow taxi door and watched the cab pull out into the swell of New York traffic. She’d packed the remnants of her former life in a single backpack but he could see, she didn’t even need that. He backed away from the curb and tucked his hands into his pockets. His chest was tight and heavy. He was guilty but he didn’t feel sorry for himself. He felt sorry for her.

He was almost thrown off his feet as a hand gripped his arm and swung him around. Steve was white with anger as a vein popped out in his forehead. His lip was split and his nose bruised from Bucky’s fist. The men faced each other in mutual detest. He never expected to look at his oldest friend that way and feel it so succinctly.

“Where is she?” Steve growled.

Bucky shrugged and shouldered past him, “gone. Far from us.”

Steve followed him and stopped him before he could pass through the door. He shoved him back against the façade of the building but Bucky hardly felt it. He just stood, staring at the man he didn’t know any more, and lifted a brow.

“You gonna beat it out of me?” he asked, “then you’ll have to kill me.”

Steve’s eyes searched Bucky’s and he growled under his breath, “all you had to do was follow the fucking rules.”

“I never liked those rules. I only wanted to be close to her. It was selfish. It was abuse.”

“She liked it,” Steve snapped.

“No, you told her she liked it and she loved you so much, she believed you,” Bucky’s voice turned raw, “she loved you and you threw it all away.”

“You ruined it,” Steve accused.

“Fuck you,” Bucky snarled, “you deserve to be alone.”

“I’ll find her,” Steve curled his fingers into a fist and puffed his chest, “I know exactly where she’s going. She won’t get to her car before I do.”

“No, she will,” Bucky pushed away from the wall and grabbed the front of Steve’s shirt and pinned him, “you won’t make it past me.”

Steve narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned. He gripped Bucky’s shirt in kind and the pair rolled against the wall until they stopped in a bitter stalemate. They stared each other down as their soles scuffed on the pavement and grunted almost in unison at their opponent.

“You won’t keep me from her forever,” Steve said calmly.

“She’s not the only one leaving, Steve,” Bucky hissed, “and I won’t feel bad at all when you wake up one day and realise how lonely you are.”

👥

Your new apartment was mostly empty but it was yours, unlike that seventh floor box Steve had made your cage. It was far from him, far from Bucky, far from everyone you ever knew. You knew you couldn’t hide with your parents or your sister or even those distant university friends who you knew would have your back. You had to be alone. It was your fear of that which got you into all that mess.

You didn’t see Bucky again but he did get a message to you. He left a gift for you at a safe house on your way out of the state. New identification, an unopened cell, and a wad of cash. It wasn’t atonement but it was what he could give you. You kept driving and exchanged your car at the stateline. You kept on until you felt as if you were in an entirely different country.

You took a job at the grocery store as a cashier. You remembered when you were a child and your mother had the same position. She went back to school and made you promise you’d never end up in the same boat. If she could see you now…

If you could see her.

You dropped your bag on the side table as you entered and turned the lock on the handle and the latch above, the deadbolt over that, and hooked the chain last. You clutched the pepper spray you kept up your sleeve and searched the single bedroom, the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom. Your paranoia was your only companion.

You kept the curtains drawn day and night, even those stolid nights when you couldn’t sleep for the thick sweat that coated your body. Those nights came more often and even during the day, you found yourself suffocated in fits of unbearable heat. And at night, you were trapped by the dreams of the past.

You sat and opened up the novel you kept on the coffee table. When you’d been with Steve, you never had much time to read between his need for attention and your work. Your relocation was freeing in more ways than one. 

You laid back and wiggled, still in your stiff grocery store uniform and lost yourself in the fantasy adventure of a young warrior. It was a fight you could control; that you could win.

👥

Bucky held the position and breathed out slowly. His muscles vibrated as he strained and slowly lifted his leg, the toes of his other foot firmly planted on the mat. He turned and outstretched his arm and leg to the ceiling and inhaled. He let out another breath as he reached the next position then returned to downward-facing dog.

He pushed himself back to sit on his knees as the noise of the lapping lake reached his ears and sent a cool breeze over the dock. He pulled his legs out from under him and bent his legs as he leaned his sweaty arms over his knees. He looked out at the glistening water and listened to the noise of birds and critters.

Peace. He couldn’t call it that. Exile, more like. He didn’t trust himself to be near people. His therapist visited once a week and he attended daily video sessions with him. One of his tasks was to find hobbies and to face himself. Yoga was both of those. It cleared his hand and ate up his time.

But then he found himself wishing she was there. He knew she wasn’t in some serene lake house, she didn’t have all the support offered by SHIELD and Stark, she didn’t have anyone. He did what he could, what she would accept from him, but there was nothing he could give her in that life that would ever be enough.

Then he felt awful about those thoughts. She was never his to have.

He stood and walked up the dock and the dirt path to the house. He climbed up onto the large deck and through sliding doors. He poured himself a glass of water and added a slice of lemon. He took it with him as he went to the bedroom where he slept alone, where the shadows of trees loomed over him in the night and swayed like the wraiths of his remorse.

The white cat hopped up on the bed and twirled in expectation, in demand of his attention. He scratched Alpine’s head as he neared and got a nip when he pet him a little too long. The moody feline retreated to the corner of the bed and watched him with his pale blue eyes. The creature was his only friend now.

He took a deep gulp and sat on the edge of the bed and set the glass down. He slid open the drawer of the hand-crafted night table and dipped his fingers inside. He pulled out the pink fabric and held them in his metal hand and stroked the dainty elastic. He should get rid of them, like he had the rest, but he just couldn’t. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t. He would never forget about her.

👥

You pushed the boxes and cans over the scanner and onto the next belt so that they were carried down to the end of the counter. You smiled as you asked the usual questions and waited for the customer to punch in their pin. You waved on the next in line as the former bagged their goods and you kept the distant tune playing from the low speakers in your head.

The routine was your only comfort. It was easy. Even when you got those fussy customers, the ones with the expired coupons or the wrong flyers, it was simple work. You rang them through and saw them off without concern. Their tantrums were not the worst you’d faced in your time.

When it was your time to clock out, you stopped by the café in the same plaza as the grocery store and ordered a tall iced tea. You came out with your purse on the arm that hid the pepper spray and made your way to the end of the pavement and around the corner to the street. 

At the first corner, you turned off onto a small side street then cut through to the park and passed the memorials and statues set along the winding path. It was a longer walk than your normal route but you took it once a week. You liked to watch the ducks but you had to avoid the geese.

You sipped from your straw and smiled at a dog as he passed with his owner and looked over at the kids laughing on the monkey bars. Your uniform tented in the heat of the summer sun but you pressed on, refreshed by the fruity tea.

When you emerged from the park, the grit of the small town returned. The chipped bricks of your building rose above you and you unlocked the front door after a struggle with the ancient keyhole. The door closed heavily behind you and you headed up the dingy stairs.

As you got to your apartment, you went through the usual to-do; lock, search, and settle in. Two months, maybe three, it felt so long ago and yet it felt like only yesterday. You couldn’t help but feel watched, followed, and you knew that sensation would follow you for the rest of your life. But if it was only ever a thought, you could be okay.

👥

Steve didn’t know what to do with himself at first. First, his girl left and then his best friend.

In the early days of his solace, he told himself it wasn’t true. They’d be back. They couldn’t live without him. They would apologize because they betrayed him. They would realise that he wasn’t the villain. He wasn’t wrong. He busied himself with his missions and waited.

But after two weeks, he saw no signs, heard no tell, nothing. He tried to follow her trail but there wasn’t anything past the state line. He asked where Bucky went but Stark wouldn’t tell and SHIELD kept that information classified from all, even him.

Then, he felt bad and he lingered on those questions that tugged at his mind. Was he wrong? Was he the bad one? Had he really hurt them? Did he deserve it all? He felt awful and fell through on a mission and no one asked any questions. No one knew the reasons for the sudden departures and the downcast captain.

Then he was mad. He was breaking things. He was growling and shouting in frustration. He ripped a door off its hinges and punched a hole through a wall. He paid for the repairs but was told in no short terms to leave the compound. He was all too happy too. He still had that apartment and it wasn’t too bad being in his own space.

But it made him think of her. And as he thought of her, he missed another mission, this time without telling anyone. Phone calls, emails, knocks on his door, they all muddled together in the haze of his thoughts.

He remembered those days, decades ago when Bucky had been his only friend. When he was a boy, when he still felt young, when he still felt like him. He remembered everything that came after and how he fought to save the only man he ever admired. Then everything he’d made him do. He didn’t make him do that, he gave him exactly what he wanted.

Then she made his chest squeeze. He thought of the first time they met. He didn’t think much of her but she somehow won him over with her kindness. He recalled the realisation of how much he liked her, he wasn’t even reluctant enough not to think it was love in that instant. When she saw the loose stitch in his glove and pulled it away like it was nothing. She remarked on the little fix as ‘perfect’ and he couldn’t help his doofy grin and the line he spouted after, ‘not as perfect as you.’

And as he thought of her, he conjured all those hopes he had for them. The life he made for them in his mind. He was going to give it all to her but he just wanted a little fun first. That wasn’t so bad. He could still give it to her and that was all she wanted after all. She wanted the Steve she knew. She wanted the nuclear family and white picket fence. He wanted that too.

When the papers came to announce his dismissal from SHIELD, it felt like freedom. He didn’t care about saving the world anymore. He got out of bed these days and worked out, went for a run, and came back as he went about his own work. As he searched through the servers they tried to block him from and overrode the new restrictions. They always thought he was some clueless idiot from the past.

He could still have that life. All he had to do was find her. He smiled at the screen as he went over everything he had so far. The whiff of her blew out at the stateline but now he could go wherever he wanted without a leash. He could find her if he only tried a little harder.

👥

Steve gave notice on the lease and traded in his car for something with better mileage and more space. He sold everything that was his life before and headed out on the road with a new lease on life. He wasn’t the Captain anymore, he wasn’t the saviour, he only wanted to be one thing; a husband, a father, hers.

When he reached the state line, he stopped for a while at a motel and asked around. He had her picture and everyone was all too eager to talk to Steve Rogers. He found her car at a used dealership and got the plates and make of the one he’d switched her for. That was a start.

Then he moved on, stopping along the way for a day here and there to relax. He had time. He had confidence again. He did this everyday, this was her first time, she couldn’t outrun him forever. He had the skills and the savings to get him a lot further than she ever could.

He drove through several more states before he hit another block. A second car traded but the dealer was not as talkative. That meant he had to break in after dark and that was time he didn’t feel like spending on some stubborn bitch. But he got it done and moved on.

Then there was a week of doubt and desperation. What if he was wrong? What if this was all a part of her plan? Maybe she was smart enough to lead him in the wrong direction. Maybe Bucky was helping her. Maybe they were together. That thought made him livid.

He took off in the opposite direction but ended up with nothing but desert heat and rural nothingness. He turned around and assured himself that neither of them were smarter than him. He returned to the same point and slowly pieced together the clues until he was sure enough to keep on.

He was getting close. He could sense it. He pulled out his phone and opened those videos he’d taken from Bucky and the pictures of that day they’d made a mess of her. His hand was nothing compared to her and even if he came, he found himself dissatisfied. He ended up cursing only to start again a minute later.

That night he started in the bed then ended up in the shower and before he could get out of the bathroom, he was gripping his dick as he leaned on the counter and muttered her name over and over. He was impatient. He needed her soon or he was going to go mad.

He hardly slept as he tossed and turned in the hotel room. He checked out early but pulled over on the country road to get off again. It made him angry. She should be the one fucking him, he shouldn’t be using his own hand. He shouldn’t be alone. She should be there with his dick down her throat as he drove them to their suburban paradise.

He passed another city sign and spent a day running circles without a catch. He pressed on through the night, not wanting another motel bed, and pulled in at a station just outside a small town. He gassed up and chewed on jerky as he set out once more.

On a whim, he stopped in the small town and stopped for a meal at the local fish and chip place. It was unusual for the area but the fries were crispy and not overly salted and the fish breaded perfectly. He kept his hat on and his face down. He didn’t need to be recognized although his poor disguise seemed to draw attention.

“Louise,” the voice chimed with the bell, “gosh, I’m so sorry, I almost forgot.”

Steve looked up as his heart fluttered. He saw the green uniform shirt and black pants and at first, he was ready to deflate. But the way she walked, and her face, the way she glowed and smiled at the woman behind the till, he knew it was her. He’d found her.

“I am so stupid! I keep forgetting everything,” she counted out the money from her wallet, “I’ve been craving this all week and I’m halfway home and I’m like oh my god,” she chattered on, that way she did when they’d first met.

“Not at all, darlin’,” Louise handed her the parcel of fish and chips, “you go on enjoy.”

“Thank you!” she sang sweetly and scurried back through the door.

Steve stood slowly and left his tab on the table with a thoughtlessly generous tip. He adjusted his cap and headed out the door slowly. She wasn’t moving as fast as she made her way down the street. She swung the tied parcel from her hand and he noticed how her hips swayed. There was something different about her, something he liked.

He kept the same pace, sure to hang back so that she didn’t notice him. She led him through a park and she stopped to smile at a party of ducks in the small pond. She carried on over the small bridge and he sat on a bench when she looked back. She didn’t seem to notice as an older couple passed him and he hid behind them.

He got back up just as she was at the exit. He trailed her back to the streets and to an old brick building with an iron sign above the front door. She let herself in and he stood outside with a smirk.

“Perfect,” he said to himself as he backed away and strode down the sidewalk, “always so perfect for me.”

[tennessoui]

Ummmmmm can i please request 5

This was written all on my phone waiting for my train and I’m trying to post it through my phone which tumblr is being a lil bitch about but here is

5. Falling Pregnant After A One Night Stand (3.6k)

(squick: a/b/o dynamics, mpreg)(two tags I never thought I’d write lmao)

Anakin’s working on the couch when he hears the key in the lock of the apartment door, signaling that finally—finally—Obi-Wan’s home from his week-long hastily planned stay at Bail’s place.

Bail and Breha’s place, Anakin reminds himself. Obi-Wan’s mated friends pose no competition to Anakin’s inner alpha, which definitely thinks of Obi-Wan as his omega.

Obi-Wan comes into the main room quietly, putting his bag on one of the barstools and leaning against the counter for a second, head bowed.

When he lets out a sigh and a heavy curse, Anakin can’t stop himself from speaking up, alarmed. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Obi-Wan jolts and turns around to face the couch, clearly startled. “Anakin!” he yelps, one hand flying to his stomach and the other to grip the counter behind him, as if Anakin is an intruder, and not the man he’s been living with for six years. “I thought you’d be at work!”

Anakin fights the urge to flush. The truth is, he’s tried to go into work for the past three days, but Obi-Wan’s absense has kicked his alpha hindbrain into a special kind of panic mode, where he can’t stand to leave the den until the omega returns to it safely.

It’s not like Anakin’s going to say that though, not after five years of pining for the older omega from afar. He’s a pro at this by now.

“Working from home today,” Anakin says. And then so Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s spent his entire week alone on the couch waiting to be not alone anymore (he has), he lies, “Woke up hungover.”

“On a Thursday?” Obi-Wan says, sounding a bit concerned.

Anakin purses his lips and tries not to pout. He rakes his eyes over the omega, taking in his messed up hair and untrimmed beard and the dark circles that have popped up beneath his eyes. “You didn’t answer, Obi-Wan,” he accuses. “What’s wrong?”

The omega’s scent tinges with distress, which only proves Anakin’s point further. Obi-Wan never lets his scent leak through his blockers, not if he can help it. Anakin’s always made sure to luxuriate in his unbridled scent when he can, one that smells like maple and rain and cinnamon. But to smell it now just makes him feel more worried.

“Are you going into—“ Anakin stutters over the word heat. Obi-Wan’s at least feeling well enough to roll his eyes fondly. The older omega thinks Anakin’s one of those alphas that get wildly uncomfortable talking about an omega’s heat. It’s not true. Anakin’s helped friends through heats both platonically and sexually. Look, he’s run to the corner bodega at two in the morning to get Padmé heating pads to be left outside her door. He’s no stranger to heats.

But the idea of his prim and proper roommate writhing around in his nest, begging for something to fill him up the way he needs—that makes Anakin stutter and blush and trip over his words.

“No,” Obi-Wan says, but there’s something off in his tone, something sour in his scent. Anakin puts his laptop aside—the screen’s gone dark already anyway—and makes to stand, his inner alpha baying with the need to run his hands over the omega, to make sure he’s not bleeding or hurt or injured—

“I—I’m going to unpack and take a shower,” Obi-Wan decides, pushing away from the counter and closer to the couch. Not close enough. But closer. “And then I need to talk to you about something.”

“Are you…” Anakin casts around for the right word to say. Ill. Leaving me. Sick. Sick of me. Done with all of this. Dying.

Obi-Wan pauses and gives him his own sort of once-over. Whatever he finds in either his body language or his scent brings a soft smile to the omega’s face. “I’m fine, dear one. I—I need a shower. I don’t—smell right.”

Anakin blinks after him, hands balling into fists and relaxing as he processes those words. Usually it’s Anakin who wants Obi-Wan to shower off the stench of other alphas after his business trips or stays at his friends’ places. Obi-Wan’s always insisted he smells fine, but he’ll cave if Anakin’s mood gets bad enough.

It’s not something he’s especially proud of, but it’s worth it when Obi-Wan curls up onto the couch beside Anakin and he smells only like the shampoo and soap they share.

Sometimes if he’s tired enough, he’ll even let Anakin scent mark him so that next time he goes out, everyone will automatically assume he’s already in possession of an alpha and not looking for anything.

Sometimes, he even asks for it. Those times are the best.

Anakin tries to sit still while he waits for Obi-Wan to come back, but it’s impossible. He moves to the table, then to the kitchen counter, then back to the couch. Where should he sit, where would be a place he feels safe enough to receive whatever news Obi-Wan’s putting off telling him?

In the omega’s arms in his own bed, is the answer that comes to mind. But can he really ask that of Obi-Wan? They’ve done it before, when Anakin’s mother had died, when Ahsoka had left the city to get a degree abroad, when Anakin feels as though he’s going to shake apart if he doesn’t hold onto his omega and make sure that he at least can’t leave him too.

When Obi-Wan comes out of his room, all flushed from the shower with his hair still damp and messy, wearing a blue sweater Anakin’s pretty sure used to be his and a pair of sweatpants that are definitely currently his, there’s hardly a choice to make. If Obi-Wan wants to wear his scent, Anakin will give it to him.

Silently he takes his hand and leads him to his bedroom, toeing out of his shoes and tugging him into his bed and into his arms.

Obi-Wan goes so easily that it only makes Anakin more worried. His heart cannot take this level of stress and he has to hide his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and inhales greedily at the pure scent of omega—Obi-Wan omega—his omega.

“Obi-Wan,” he says nonsensically, just to feel the way the omega in his arms shudders at the sensation of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck.

But then Obi-Wan doesn’t stop shaking and Anakin can feel a growing wetness against his shirt. He can’t stop the distressed rumble that comes out of his throat, but he bites his tongue just in time to stop the alpha command to tell him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t like that and Anakin wouldn’t like doing it.

His hands stroke soothingly over the omega’s back as he starts purring from within his chest. An alpha’s purr is supposed to reassure an omega, make them feel safe and protected, but Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to realize this because he doesn’t stop crying.

“Talk to me,” Anakin murmurs nosing at the short hairs behind Obi-Wan’s ears. “Baby. Obi. Omega. What is wrong? What can I do?”

Obi-Wan wipes his eyes dry on Anakin’s shirt and looks up at him with a heartbroken but strangely resigned expression. Like he already knows what Anakin’s going to do, and he thinks nothing he says will change anything.

As if.

When Obi-Wan went on a two month long business trip three years ago, Anakin grew out a beard and it only took one look from the omega upon his return before Anakin was shaving it off. The point is, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to speak half the time for Anakin to agree. He’s just that in love. It’s pathetic. He can’t remember who he was before it.

“I’m a mess, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan finally gets out, retracting one of his hands from the tight grip he has on Anakin’s shirt to rub at his eye. “I told myself I wasn’t going to be like this, but. I don’t—it’s—“

“Hey, hey,” Anakin soothes, leaning back a bit so he can knock their foreheads together. Packmates do that all the time. “It’s okay.”

Obi-Wan nods slowly, and his scent expands with the pleasant notes of a comforted, protected omega.

“Do you remember…when I went to Seattle at the end of August for that conference?” he starts slowly.

Anakin hums in acknowledgement. He’d wanted to go with Obi-Wan, instincts demanding that the other side of the country was too far for the omega to travel alone, but he’d not been able to get time off of work.

His heart drops into his stomach at the idea that somehow maybe Obi-Wan met someone there during his four-day trip, and he’s in love with them and is trying to find a way to tell Anakin he’s moving.

Would it be pathetic if Anakin followed him? Would Obi-Wan’s new alpha allow Anakin to live with Obi-Wan still? Would Obi-Wan’s alpha be amenable to telling Anakin how he made Obi-Wan fall in love with him in a matter of days when Anakin’s been trying to get the man to love him romantically for six years?

Anakin’s heart rate is up, but it’s nothing compared to the staccato beat of Obi-Wan’s. He tries to send out more calming pheromones, but he can’t even find them for himself.

This is it. He’s about to lose Obi-Wan. The alpha inside of him whimpers, and it takes all of his willpower not to crush his omega tighter to his chest.

No. Not his.

“I met a man there, just at the hotel,” Obi-Wan says. It would have been kinder if he’d just stabbed Anakin with the kitchen knife. There’s no relief to be found in this slow death. Because—because surely, Anakin will die without Obi-Wan. Not physically, of course. He’s not one of those alphas who doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

Actually, it’s Anakin that cooks most of the time for both of them. And Anakin will do the shopping, will keep an eye on the amount of cleaning supplies they have, how much toilet paper, how many garbage bags.

But what would be the point of cooking anything if Obi-Wan isn’t there to taste it and shower him with praise? What’s the point of cleaning the apartment if Obi-Wan isn’t there to tuck himself into his arms on the couch and thank him for the work? What’s the point of anything if he’s doing it without Obi-Wan?

“Anakin, I—“ Obi-Wan stutters and falls silent. Anakin braces himself for the end he should have seen coming. “I’m pregnant.”

White noise. Anakin doesn't even think he’s breathing. Obi-Wan is pregnant. Obi-Wan…had a one-night stand in a city 2,400 miles away from Anakin, and he’s pregnant. Someone touched Obi-Wan, someone made Obi-Wan come, someone got Obi-Wan pregnant, and maybe…maybe there’s a chance they’ll get to keep Obi-Wan too.

The alpha in his chest howls at the thought. The idea that—that someone else will have a better claim on Obi-Wan’s heart. What’s six years of living together compared to a child?

Except Obi-Wan presses further into his chest, with a shaky whine. The omega is here now, not with any other alpha, not in any other city. He’s in Anakin’s bed, in Anakin’s arms.

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it, how to speak. He needs to know so much more. He needs to know what Obi-Wan is going to do, if he’s in contact with the father, if he’s planning to move, if he’s planning to raise the—

As if he can hear his thoughts, Obi-Wan starts talking again, very fast as if he’s afraid Anakin’s going to kick him out in a few minutes and he needs to get the whole story out before he does.

“I’m keeping it. Them. I—I’m so old now—“ he’s barely 38– “I’m afraid this could be my only chance at…at a family.”

Anakin closes his eyes and hides his face in the still-damp strands of Obi-Wan’s hair. He doesn’t want Obi-Wan to see how devastated he is at this response. Anakin’s family is Obi-Wan. He’d thought…he’d wanted….

“I understand if you want to move out before the lease ends,” Obi-Wan mumbles, but his hands clench tightly around Anakin’s back. “I know…a baby…another alpha’s baby…you shouldn’t have to take care of them. I know it’s not what you signed up for, I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t hold it against you.” His voice gets smaller and smaller until Anakin has to strain to hear him. “I can do this alone.”

He sounds as if he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling Anakin. But Anakin can’t even focus on that because his entire attention is caught by everything else Obi-Wan’s just said. Because it sounds…it sounds as if Obi-Wan is planning to stay in the city. In the apartment. Without the sire.

Alone.

As if Anakin would ever let Obi-Wan be alone, given the choice. As if Anakin would ever leave Obi-Wan to struggle through any difficulty without him.

Obi-Wan presses impossibly closer to him. “Say something,” he demands, running his nose up and down Anakin’s neck, over his scent glands, as if he expects Anakin to be able to form whole, coherent sentences when he’s doing that with his mouth.

The pregnancy must be messing with Obi-Wan’s instincts and emotions, Anakin realizes distantly. His body must know he’s not mated, that he’s about to be a visibly pregnant, unmated Omega in a dangerous city. No wonder he’s trying to cover himself so completely in Anakin’s scent. He has to wonder if Obi-Wan even understands what he’s doing. He’s never been one to try and he in touch with his Omegan side.

“Alpha,” Obi-Wan pleads, and Anakin has a second realization that it’s been ages since he’s said something. The room fills with the scent of distressed, in pain omega.

Anakin lets out an involuntary purr and tightens his hold on Obi-Wan’s body. It would be nice to look him in the eyes, but he thinks they both need as little distance between themselves as possible. “You’re going to make a great parent,” he soothes, nuzzling along Obi-Wan’s hairline. “And I’m not going to leave you unless you want me to.”

Obi-Wan stills completely as if shocked to his bones, and then he relaxes bonelessly into Anakin’s arms. This time, Anakin feels the tears as soon as they start and he goes about stroking up and down Obi-Wan’s spine again.

“I was so afraid,” Obi-Wan admits between sobs. Anakin thinks to himself privately that he definitely knows how that feels, but one of them shouldn’t be crying. “I didn’t know how to tell you—I didn’t want you to hate me for making such a stupid mistake—“

There’s nothing Obi-Wan could do to make him hate him. Sure, Anakin’s absolutely filled with hatred for whoever caught Obi-Wan’s eye on that business trip, but none of those emotions bleed over into what he feels for Obi-Wan. Not when his love is too strong and entrenched.

“Bail said you’d understand but I’m just—a mess, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and these goddamn hormones are making me feel out of control—“ Obi-Wan continues. The fact that Bail fucking Organa found out about Obi-Wan’s pregnancy before Anakin did will drive him crazy if he lets it, so he puts that aside for now and focuses on comforting his omega.

“We’ll figure it out,” Anakin says, scenting Obi-Wan back. “It’ll be alright.”

————

A few hours later, Obi-Wan awakens from the nap he’s fallen into with a start. Anakin’s gotten no sleep, too busy drawing nonsense lines on Obi-Wan’s back and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the future. About what’s going to happen to them, around them.

No matter how much he hates the sire of the child in Obi-Wan, he already feels attached to the baby. It’s part of Obi-Wan. Maybe they’ll have his hair color or his eyes. Maybe they’ll have his compassion, his wit. Maybe they’ll let Anakin teach them how to play soccer or swim or cook.

The possibilities are endless and all of them involve Obi-Wan falling in love with him because of how amazing of a father he is to his child.

It’s not the most pressing thought in his mind, but he has to admit at least to himself that it’s there. That he’s just as in love with Obi-Wan as he was when he woke up in the morning. Now he just has another part of Obi-Wan to love: his child.

Maybe their child.

“I need to tell him,” Obi-Wan mumbles from his spot laying across Anakin’s chest. “I don’t—I don’t particularly want his involvement or, or money, but he should know. He should have the option to be in his child’s life.”

The part of Anakin who has just spent the past three hours getting used to the idea of raising Obi-Wan’s child as if he’s his own bristles at the idea of the sire being involved at all.

“Do you have his number?” Anakin asks reluctantly. He can’t imagine getting to sleep with someone as gorgeous as Obi-Wan and not trying to give him a means of keeping in contact.

But Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“His address?”

Another negative. “I…know his name and where he works.”

Anakin bares his teeth at the ceiling. “And?”

Obi-wan sounds more than a bit embarrassed. “Ah. He was the bartender at the hotel. And his name tag said Set.”

“You went to a medical conference full of alpha surgeons and researchers and you…slept with the bartender,” Anakin says blankly, before he can stop himself.

Obi-Wan huffs. It’s the most Obi-Wan response he’s given since he got home from Bail’s. “Sorry my one-night stands don’t meet your standards.”

Anakin hums. The truth is the only person who will ever meet his standards as a romantic partner for Obi-Wan is Anakin. “So what do you want to do? Call the hotel and ask for Set?”

Which, by the way, is the most pretentiously Seattle name he’s ever heard of. Set’s given name is probably, like, David and he just wanted to sound cool and grunge.

“I can’t just—this isn’t something I can say over the phone, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. He falls silent.

“It’s mid-November,” Anakin points out. “Neither of us are hurting for money, but plane tickets are going to be astronomical until January at least. If they’re available at all.”

There’d be shitty seats available, of course, but Anakin’s not going to let his pregnant omega cram himself into an uncomfortable, smelly seat for eight hours.

“You don’t—I don’t expect you to come with me,” Obi-Wan mumbles into Anakin’s collarbone.

Anakin just manages to bite back a scoff and the urge to point out that last time Obi-Wan went off to Seattle without him, he got pregnant. Who knows what would happen if he does it again?

“Well, I’m gonna,” he says firmly. “But I think we should drive. It’ll take longer, but I’d feel much better about what you’re exposed to, not to mention how much more comfortable my car is than a coach seat. We can share a motel bed to cut costs, and—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Obi-Wan picks himself up off his chest to stare at him quizzically. “What if your job won’t let you take the days off? They didn’t even let you leave for the original Seattle trip and that was only a few days. We’re talking weeks here, Ani.”

Anakin sets his face into a scowl. He’s worked at the same finance firm since moving to New York, but if they won’t let him take time off for this, for Obi-Wan, he’ll quit. Simple as that. “Then I’ll go anyway and they can fire me.”

Predictably, Obi-Wan has several protests. Anakin will hear none of them. If he is fired, if he can’t find another finance job in the city that makes the same amount of money, then they’ll move out to somewhere else. He’s heard good things about Denver. And if Obi-Wan doesn’t want to move that far, maybe they can move upstate. It’ll be easier to raise a kid outside of the city anyway.

He’s not dumb enough to tell Obi-Wan this, knowing it makes him sound literally insane, but he is just stupid enough to cut Obi-Wan off and say, “you’re the most important person in my life, Obi-Wan. You….you both are.”

Hesitantly he moves his hand down to rest it gently over the slightest swell of Obi-Wan’s tummy. The omega’s breath catches in his throat, but he lets him touch.

“I’m going to be there with you, every step of the way if you’ll have me,” Anakin adds, stroking his thumb over the impossibly soft skin. Pregnant. Obi-Wan is pregnant.

It’ll take a few days more to get completely used to that idea, that’s for sure.

Obi-Wan studies his face with eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from all that crying a few hours ago. Slowly he raises his own hand to Anakin’s neck and rubs up and down his scent gland with something almost like longing in his expression. They’re so close together. Anakin would let him have anything—everything.

Everything.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan agrees with an air of strained incredulity in his voice , placing his other hand over Anakin’s on top of his abdomen. “Yes. Let’s drive to Seattle so I can tell my one-night stand that I’m carrying his child.”

Anakin nods and adds privately in his head, And so I can tell him that that kid’s gonna be mine in everything but blood and he better stay on his side of the goddamn country.

He’s not losing his family to some stupid Seattle alpha.

[maddiwrites]

Scared to Love

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: You go from being best friends, to friends with benefits, to strangers with JJ Maybank. You tried your best not to fall in love with your best friend, but how could anyone not love the infamous Pogue?

Note: Sorry, I really suck a summaries. But I wanted to post something outside of my OBX rewrite so I hope you like it(:

Word Count 3.3k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and divorce.

The beach is loud with teenagers holding red solo cups and cheering on their friends as they compete to out drink one another. The sky is dark and glittered with bright stars, but the night is still young, filled with both promises and threats. It’s another typical Friday night, surrounded by friends and strangers alike. You usually thrive at these kind of parties - the queen of beer pong, the hot girl dancing in the middle of the crowd like no one’s watching. You attract attention from all Outer Banks social groups - Pogues, Kooks, and Tourons. But now...

Now you wish you could hide from all of it.

If it were up to you, you would be at home, locked away in your room, watching Nicholas Sparks movies until you were no longer capable of crying. But lucky for you, you have best friends who don’t allow you to wallow in self pity. Sure, they let you cry on their shoulder, they rub your back, and tell you everything’s going to be okay. They compliment you. They tell you that you’re gonna go far in life and that you don’t need any man to make you feel like you deserve the world. But they also make sure that you don’t stay in your dark place. They would drag you out of there by your teeth and skin if they needed to. At the time, you can be pissed about it, but you learn to love them for it.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you smile once tonight.” John B walks up to you and offers a teasing smile. He moves to stand next to you, shoulder to shoulder, as you look out into the depth of the party from the edge. 

“I’m trying to find a reason to,” You answer honestly. Your eyes stay trained on the blonde Pogue with a cute redhead wrapped in his arms. They’re swaying to the beat of the music that plays loudly through someone’s portable speaker. They both look happy, and the sight of it makes you physically nauseous. 

John B follows your stare and sighs when he sees what’s got you so down. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two -”

“It doesn’t matter.” You sip on your now lukewarm beer and tear your eyes away from the happy couple, or whatever they want to call themselves. 

“It does,” John B says, making you look at him. “Because I can’t be in the same room as my two best friends anymore. I mean, seriously, what happened? Did you guys have a fight or something?”

You gnaw at your bottom lip and flick your gaze down at the sand. What you and JJ had was different than what you have with the rest of your best friends. The two of you have always been the closest. Your friend group first started as just you, JJ, and John B. John B always felt like the brother you never had. You loved and fought like siblings usually do. He told you the cold hard truth even when you didn’t want to hear it. You loved him, but not like you loved JJ. You were always aware of the way your heart swelled when JJ laughed, or how your skin tingled when he touched you, or how your chest tightened when he would come back to the Chateau and brag to everyone about his most recent hookup from the night before. The blonde held a special place in your heart that no body else could replace. Not even now.

It all started when you and JJ were left alone at the Chateau for an entire night. John B was somewhere else - probably with Sarah Cameron, who knows. JJ had come from another run-in with his dad and asked that you stay with him because he didn’t want to be alone. The two of you ended up getting high off of JJ’s good stuff. You think it was the most you ever smoked in your life. The two of you ordered pizza, and laughed at dumb youtube videos. For a few hours, you forgot that JJ had an abusive father or that you were caught between a custody battle with your own parents. 

You don’t remember how or when it happened, but the air grew thick with tension and neither of you were laughing anymore. You remember looking into his blue eyes, the color of the ocean, which you always said fit the surfer perfectly. Next thing you know, his lips are on yours - softly at first, then into a rhythm that most resembled an insatiable hunger. He took you into the room he claimed as his, and then....and then he claimed you.

You woke up first that morning. Your stomach swirled with some kind of emotion you couldn’t exactly pin when you looked over at JJ’s bare back as he slept on his stomach. Maybe it was excitement, joy, bliss. Or maybe it was dread, guilt, fear. It wasn't a secret that you and relationships...well, they never ended well. You never stayed long enough to catch serious feelings for the other person. Kie seems to think it’s due to the disastrous relationship your own parents had, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. Your parents spent the second half of your life tearing each other down, competing over who was able to hurt the other one more. You spent a lot of nights hiding under your covers as if that would protect you from your mothers screams or glasses breaking from your father’s rage. You saw what loving someone could do to people. Loving someone can make you hate someone.

And you didn’t want that to happen with JJ. You knew you were already in too deep. You became a bubbly school girl whenever he came around since you were ten. But you refused to let you and JJ become like your mom and dad. If you wanted to keep JJ around, you we’re going to have to keep him at a distance. 

You knew you should have stopped it after the first time, but JJ was like a magnet you couldn’t detach yourself from. You both made a silent agreement that this would be a no strings attached situation. So off the books that even your closest friends didn’t know about it. At first it was fun and harmless - each of you got what you were craving the most, whether it be the comfort of the other person’s company or the high only that person could give the other. But inevitably, lines started to blur. You found yourself staring at your phone on days you didn’t spend together, wearing his hoodies just to feel closer to him because it hugged you in his scent, staying latched to his side at boneyard and Kook parties. You didn’t know if he felt the same way, and you didn’t let yourself find out. You put space between yourself and the infamous Pogue, only showing up in the middle of the night once a week instead of three to four. You tried talking to Tourons at parties - never going home with them but always having them as a back up option. You chose the seat furthest away from him during lunch at The Wreck, and made up excuses as to why you couldn’t go surfing with him in the early mornings. Slowly, you tried to go back to the way things were, but the further you separated from JJ, the greater the crack in your heart became.

Surprisingly, it was JJ who cut things off completely on a night you wanted to use to take your mind off the latest fight between your parents. Even with your father moved out of your family home, the screaming matches never stopped, and now they were trying to use you to pick sides. In the end, JJ did take your mind off your own family, but never in the way you expected him to.

“I don’t think we should do this anymore,” he told you as he slowly lifted your arms away from his shoulders. 

“What? Why?” You looked at him with a tilted head and narrowed eyes. Your breathing became static and shallow, like you were on the verge of a panic attack. 

“Because this was a bad idea, and it’s not healthy - me using you to forget about my dad, you using me to forget about your parents -”

“Using you?” You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “You think that’s all this is?” “Why did you come over here? Why today? Why right now?”

You clenched your teeth together and looked away from the boy who was now staring at you with a look that resembled pity. You wanted to tell him that sex wasn’t the only reason you find solace in his company. He made you feel safe and happy. He made you forget about the world’s problems with his jokes and stories. He made you laugh harder than anyone else could dream ever could. JJ is the first person you think of when you wake up and the person you dream about at night. But you couldn’t tell him this. Because that would mean admitting your stronger feelings for him. That would mean possibly destroying the relationship you already have with him,

Little did you know, not answering him would do the same thing.

“Fine,” You swallow back your tears and turn away to leave. You couldn’t stay here, standing in front of him for another second. Your felt embarrassed and ashamed. Like you had made a mistake that you can’t take back.

“Y/N -” JJ tried calling out to you, but you ignored him and slammed the door behind you.

You down the last of your beer and shake the empty cup. Ignoring John B’s question you walk past him. “I need another drink.”

John B shakes his head with frustration. Rolling his eyes he says, “He asks about you all the time. Talks about you non stop but won’t tell me why he won’t just call you up himself. And I don’t know what to tell him because by shutting him out, you’re shutting me out too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and look down at the sand covering the toes of your sneakers. You hate that what John B said is true, and you hate even more that you don’t know how to fix it without seeing JJ Maybank. And you’re just not ready for that.

You didn’t see JJ turn his head at the sound of his best friend’s rising voice. No one in the crowd seemed to recognize the tension only a couple feet away, but he did. He watched from afar, noticing the space between you two and how stiff your bodies are. His heart tore into two, knowing he was the reason for their dispute. But he didn’t know what to do or how to fix it. 

He thinks about you everyday, contemplates calling you up, or going to your house and apologizing personally. He misses you. He never meant to hurt you. But...he had to think of himself. And staying with you was killing him slowly. Because he knew you wouldn’t give him what he always dreamed of. A lifetime with you as his partner in crime. The love of his life. The mother to his children some day.

But everyday without you felt like another year had been tacked onto his life. Sometimes he thinks he’d rather just live through the heartbreak than never having you at all. 

“You know what?” You say, “This was a bad idea. I’m just going to go.” 

John B doesn’t stop you. He just watches you walk away. He bites his tongue because he knows whatever he wants to say in anger will only mask how he really feels - which is pity and sadness. Because he know something is is going on with you and he can’t help you - not until you let him.

“Leaving so soon?” A certain voice makes you stop in your tracks on the edge of the beach where people have parked their cars. 

You squeeze your fists together to stop your hand from shaking and take three deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You slowly turn to look at him and suck your bottom lip in between your teeth. He looks the same. Shaggy blonde hair, beautiful tan skin, sparkling blue eyes. Although, he looks sheepish with his hands tucked into his cargo short pockets and his eyes narrowed in your direction. He looks sad. But that doesn’t make sense because he broke it off with you.

“I guess I’m just not in the party mood tonight,” You respond. JJ takes note of how empty your voice sounds.

“Y/N Y/L/N not in the party mood?” JJ tries to joke. “That’s unheard of.”

“What are you doing, JJ?” You ask impatiently. The longer you look at the boy you...well...the boy you don’t want to love, the harder it is to breathe. “Don’t you have a girl to entertain? She’s pretty, clearly into you-”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” You play dumb.

JJ sighs. “Look, I understand if you’re mad at me or something -”

“I’m not mad,” You deny with a shrug. “We fucked around for a little bit and then you moved on-”

“Don’t do that. Don’t act like what he had meant nothing -“

“Well did it? Mean anything?” You narrow your eyes and take another step closer to him. “Because from what you said, I was only using you! And you were only using me. That’s what you said!”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I -”

“What did you mean then?” You challenge him. You feel your eyes heat up with fresh tears and no matter how many times you try to blink them away, they threaten to fall. You feel a red blush rush up your neck as you look deep into his eyes, remembering the shame you felt that night. You never meant to make him feel like that’s all he was to you - a distraction or a quick fuck. He was still your best friend. And you ruined that, and there’s no one else to blame but yourself. Yet here you are, yelling at him because it was easier that way. 

“I never meant for any of this to happen. I just - I just wanted my best friend back!”

You take a step back and look at him like the blonde just grew two heads. “I never left. I was there the entire time. You’re the one that ended things.”

“Because I loved you!” JJ yells at you, rendering you absolutely speechless. His words ring over your head like a chime, dancing beautifully through your ear drums. Despite his outburst of admittance of affection, he glares at you because how could you be so stupid not to see it? 

“What?” Your voice is barely above a whisper and your own scowl is gone. 

JJ runs his hands through his disheveled hair and curses to himself. “Fuck, Y/N, I loved you. I still love you. But I know how you feel about relationships and love and -” JJ sighs. “I didn’t want to lose you, but my god, it was killing me that I was giving my all and you would never -”

You feel your feet moving forward despite your brain and thoughts freezing completely. 

You didn’t know how to feel.  You just knew you needed to be near him. You wanted to feel his heart beat against his chest and his breath on your skin. You wanted to look him dead in the eyes and read his brain like an open book. You just wanted to be near him and somehow show him that you felt the same way.

Your hands cup his jaw to make him look at you. He looks pained - like a boy who had just been punched in the gut by his worst enemy, and it killed you to know you were the cause of it. You didn’t mean to. Little did he know you felt the same way. It was the reason you distanced yourself from him in the first place. You loved him. Fuck, you loved him so much. But you were scared. You didn’t want to end up like your parents. You’d rather die than learn to resent the blonde Pogue in front of you. But by trying to save your relationship, you ended up hurting yourself and JJ. 

He keeps his eyes closed and tries to move his face out of your hands, but you stay strong and move even closer to him so that you’re chest to chest.

“I would.” Your voice is a whisper and your breath sends a rush of goosebumps down his neck. “Hey..” You whisper again and JJ opens his eyes to look at you. “I would. Because I love you too.”

JJ’s brows furrow. “What?”

“I was scared. I am scared.” You correct yourself. “I tried to turn it all off by distancing myself from you. I thought that maybe if I stopped -” You pause as a silent tear runs down your cheek. “I tried not to love you. God, I tried so hard. But I do, JJ. I love you so freaking much. But I’m terrified that -”

“Hey, hey.” As your hands fall, JJ’s go to your face to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “We’re not like them.” He reads your mind perfectly. He knows about your parents’ divorce and the mental damage it’s caused you. “We’ll never be like them. You hear me?”

“How do you know that?” Your voice cracks.

“Because if I’ve got you, what do I have to be miserable about?” JJ grins as you giggle. You turn your head to place a kiss against the palm of his hand, ripping open a set of flutters through JJ’s abdomen. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. And I won’t hurt you either. I promise.”

You sniffle and bite your bottom lip as a smile spreads across you face. “So, are we really doing this?”

JJ nods as he leans in closer to you and pulls your chin up. “Yeah. We’re doing this.” He leans down and kisses you gently at first, letting the fireworks spark throughout your entire body, then moves his lips more passionately against yours. 

Neither of you knew, but from afar, your best friends were watching behind a couple of trees with open mouths and wide eyes. 

“Oh my god!” Sarah jumps up and down like a school girl. She always knew you and JJ had something stronger than the rest of the Pogues but never said anything. 

“I knew it,” Kie shakes her head with a smirk. 

“It’s about fucking time,” John B wraps his arms around his own girlfriend and kisses the top of her head. “I was going to kill them.”

“What?” Pope looks between his two best friends with furrowed brows. “You knew about this all along?”

John B scoffs, “How could you not?”

“Even I had a feeling something was going on,” Sarah giggles. 

“Why do they have to be so fucking stubborn?” Kie says.

“Should we...I don’t know...congratulate them or something?” Pope asks awkwardly. 

Kie pats Pope’s shoulder as she walks past him to go back to the party. “Absolutely not.”

“Yeah, I’m not going near them until morning,” John B says and grabs Sarah’s hand to lead her back to the keg to get another drink. “In fact, we should just steer clear of the Chateau for the entire night.”

You still had a lot to learn, but not letting your parents’ divorce dictate your life was the best lesson you learned. They can take whatever they want from you, but they weren’t going to take away your relationship with JJ. Because he’s the best thing that could have ever happened to you.