#old man will be gorgeous and use his face and his voice in such stunning ways and i will be mesmerized regardless
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A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.
So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.
Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.
When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.
One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"
He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."
And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.
I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.
So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.
Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.
But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?
All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.
I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.
This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.
In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.
One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.
Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.
Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."
In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.
On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.
In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.
#riki babbles#I had this in my drafts for ages and I was like 'not the time' but a friend encouraged me to share so here it is#palestine
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you're no good for me.
Bucky x Reader AU
Run-through: After leaving a well-paying job you hated, you took the money you had saved and decided to roam around Europe: Paris, Monaco, Italy, Greece, trying to find a new purpose in life. That’s when you meet this drop dead gorgeous older man named Bucky. He’s respectful, funny, kind, flirty, and has a nice yacht. Honestly, he’s all you need at the moment. And together, the two of you embark on a journey that has potential to last a lifetime.
Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties), fluff, sugar daddy!bucky (basically), smut, praise kink, nicknames: princess, baby girl, daddy kink, soft!dom!bucky, HEA.
a/n: inspired by this ask. Thank you @aquariusbarnes
“I guess I never realised solo travelling could get so… lonely, you know?”
You said quietly to your best friend on the phone while you browsed through second-hand books in a small, cosy little bookstore you found while staying in Italy for the week.
“Don’t get me wrong,” You chuckled, “I desperately needed this and I needed to get out of the city but, this is not doing what it should. All I do is eat, sleep, shop, and I have no one to talk to. I guess I can’t even make new friends anymore.”
Your friend sighed, “Of course you can! You should meet new people. Go to a bar, wear something nice, and talk to some guy. Seriously, get some!”
You laughed quietly. “I’m tired of the bar or club thing. That’s what we usually do in the city.” You groaned. “I need something new, and exciting, and-,”
A deep voice spoke from somewhere behind you. “Excuse me, miss.”
You turned around and had to blink a few times to register the sight in front of you. A god of a man. Tall. Well dressed in loose pants, white tank top and a delicious light blue shirt left open to show off his muscular chest. He had longish hair, tied neatly in a low bun. Pretty face, ocean blue eyes. Sharp jaw. And a slight smirk on his pink lips.
He looked older, maybe in his early forties? He radiated elegant masculinity. Very much old money. He looked like he belonged in some fashion show, or the cover of a magazine.
“Uh, I’ll call you in a bit.” You quickly ended the call and gave the man your full attention. “Hello.” You said softly, sounding a little confused as to why would a man like that even stop and talk to anyone.
The man gave you a stunning smile. “I noticed you dropped this.” He held out his hand and there was your tiny purse, in the palm of his large, veiny hands.
“Oh.” You sounded a little embarrassed as you quickly took it from him. “Thank you.” You said, looking up and meeting his dangerously enticing stare.
“Wow,” He said, with a little nervous chuckle. “You’re beautiful.” You froze at that and then he quickly added, “I’m sorry if that was too forward. It’s just… you really are beautiful.” He sounded so sincere, and you hadn’t had a proper conversation with anyone in weeks so you didn’t know how to act.
“Oh, um,” You let out a nervous chuckle too as you looked down at your shoes, embarrassed. “Thank you.” Then you added as a nervous ramble, “I think you’re really beautiful too.”
He smiled, then let out a little laugh which made your skin tingle in the best ways. He raised a perfect eyebrow and asked in his silky smooth, deep voice, “Then how about us beautiful people go get a drink and get to know each other a little better?”
You actually felt your face get really hot as you laughed, “So this is the part where I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out you took my kidney?”
He chuckled. “No, no kidneys will be taken, I promise.” Then he gave you a pretty smile, “Just one drink. You’re too beautiful for me not to steal an hour or two from your day. Else, I’m gonna regret it my whole life.”
“I see you get your way in and out of everything by being a smooth flirt, huh?”
You gave in. And said yes to having a drink with him.
—
One drink turned into a late lunch, then afternoon tea, then an early dinner. The conversation flowed so easily it surprised you. He told you mostly everything about him. You noted that his name was Bucky, he was in his forties, no immediate family as they had all unfortunately passed, he was a bachelor, a businessman, currently taking some months off work to travel and sail across Europe on his yacht.
While on a quick bathroom break, you googled him just to confirm and sure enough, he wasn’t lying. Also, the guy was much more wealthy than he let on. But you liked that. You hated men who bragged constantly.
When it was your turn to give him your back story, you were just as transparent as he was. You mentioned where you were from, how you moved to the city after uni once you found a decent job. You mentioned how although the job paid really well, you quickly realised that being a PA isn’t as glamorous as in the movies or books, but in fact so stressful and anxiety-ridden. So you quickly began hating your job and life. Hence the resignation letter and the sudden tickets to Europe.
“So, you’re here all alone? That’s brave I think.” He said, after you were done narrating your story.
You scoffed before taking a sip of coffee, “No, it's quite the opposite.” You argued, defeatedly. “I couldn’t handle it and I just got up and left. I quite literally packed my stuff and ran away from the city. And now I’m just roaming around, trying to see if I can find a new purpose, I suppose. That’s the opposite of brave. If I were brave I’d face it properly. Like an adult.” Your shoulders drooped down a little.
“Hey,” He said softly. Then reached for your hand and held it in between both of his warm palms.
This was the first time in the past hours where he touched you. He’d been so respectful so far, not once getting too close. But right now, as he held your hand lovingly and as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles, you realised you loved having your hand held by him.
“That’s not true at all.” He said. “You were strong enough to walk away from a situation you no longer wanted to be in, do you realise how brave that is?”
His voice was so understanding and soft, you immediately melted.
He continued, “I mean, you’re braver than me when I was twenty something.” He chuckled at the memory, “My father had just passed, and I was suddenly responsible for the family businesses. And…” He sighed, “How I wish I could’ve packed a suitcase and travel at that age, but I couldn’t. I was so lost at that time too.”
You watched him as he spoke. The intelligence and experience in his eyes. The crinkles by his pretty eyes as he smiled at something he remembered from the past. The sad smile when he mentioned his now dead family. He seemed older and wiser than his age.
“What I’m trying to say here is that you’re so young. This is your time to be selfish with your years. You don’t like a job? Leave it, find another. You don’t want to be in the city? Leave that too, travel the world. Of course, you must have some sort of makeshift plan of where you might want to be in the next five or ten years, but for the most part, live for right now.” He gave you an enchanting smile. “So tell me, where do you want to be right now?”
The sky began to turn darker. The golden lights from the restaurant made his eyes look magical. Deep blue, and shining like jewels. The chain around his neck caught the light and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to yank on it with your teeth…
Woah. Where did that come from?
“Just… away. For everything.” You answered, truthfully. Wasn’t that what you were looking for? An escape? Something new and exciting. And right now with your hand in Bucky’s warm ones, this felt new and exciting. And you selfishly wanted it. You wanted this.
“Come with me. Just for tonight. We won’t sail too far from the docks, I promise.” He said, holding your hand firmly in his. “I’ll bring you back tomorrow morning. Kidney and all still in place.” He teased.
You laughed. And said yes because fuck it.
—
Bucky walked with you till your hotel, and waited downstairs in the lobby while you got your things for the night. Once you met him back downstairs, he offered to carry your backpack while the two of you walked towards the docks.
Once you reached his yacht, you had to refrain from dropping your jaw. “Oh, she’s pretty.” You whispered as he held your hand and helped you onto it.
He smiled and said, “She’s my favourite.” Because of course he owned other luxury yachts.
The more steps you took inside the boat, the more mesmerised you got. He had a full staff even. Bucky gave you a quick tour, showed you the bar, the hot tubs, the main deck, and all. Then led you to a spacious bedroom.
“Get settled,” He said, “I’m just gonna get us out a bit further into the water.” He traced a gentle finger down your cheek and you found yourself nodding immediately. Then he paused, and said, “If you don’t wanna be down here alone, come find me at the helm. Okay, babygirl?”
You froze for just a fraction of a moment, then quickly smiled and nodded again. Bucky left with a wink and once the door closed behind him, you let out a loud sigh. Fuck, he was so dreamy.
Once he left and you explored the room a little bit, you realised you didn’t in fact want to be here all alone. So as the boat moved smoothly, you took a quick shower, got changed into your swimsuit, with a flowy beach cover up and went to find Bucky.
Finding the helm was easy. On your way there, you saw two staff members and they both smiled at you. For a moment you wondered if they were thinking of you as just another young girl on a rich man’s boat. Oh well, whatever.
You found Bucky standing in the middle of the area, facing multiple screens and the helm itself and so many buttons and switches it made your brain hurt.
“Hello captain.” You said, stepping closer to him. The sun was setting now, and it was all orange and pink, quickly becoming dark blue.
Bucky gave you a bright smile, “Hello you.” He grabbed your hand and placed it on the helm, “Here,” He came up and stood right behind you, both of you steering the boat, “There you go, keep it straight. Just like that, see?”
You laughed, while your heart raced both at the excitement of manoeuvring such a giant boat, but also because of how close Bucky was. Your back was right against his chest, but he was still keeping a good inch or two between your bodies.
“Alright,” He said after a while, “We’ll stop here for tonight. Come, the stars look great from the deck.”
He held your hand and led you out onto the spotlessly clean, spacious main deck. There was a circular fireplace in the middle, surrounded by sofas and a large hot tub in the corner. And the view… oh the view was to die for. The moment Bucky let go of your hand, you rushed to look over the handrail. The water reflected the colours of the sunset, and the sky. The stars began twinkling, the more you looked the more of them you found. The light summer breeze was just cool enough.
“It’s so beautiful out here.” You whispered, looking over at the shore, where more and more lights were turning on. You could see the place at which you’d just had dinner. You could also see the bookstore if you squinted. Just then, you felt a warmth press up against you.
You smiled as Bucky wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder and holding you close. “Just like you, baby girl.” He whispered into your ear.
You froze again, a familiar warmth washing over you at the nickname. A tingling sensation between your things which made you want to clench them together. Bucky must've felt the way you tensed up because he pulled away immediately.
“I didn’t mean to make you-,”
You cut him off quickly as you turned to face him, “Oh no, no. I don’t mind that.” You laughed, now a little shy. “It’s just that,” You couldn’t look at his pretty face as you admitted, “you make me a little nervous.”
He laughed at that, and wrapped his arms around you once again. “Do I?” He teased.
You hid your face by shoving it into the crook of his neck, which made him laugh even more. You couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. Fuck, it had been messing with you the whole day almost. He smelt like sin. Like pure, dangerous sin. But then he had that sweet, bright smile. And the contrast was making you dizzy.
“Don’t hide from me, baby.” He held the back of your neck gently as he pulled your face back so he could look at you.
You almost kissed him right there and then. He looked so good in this golden sunset. But you didn’t want to seem too desperate so you-
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cutting off whatever you’d been thinking about. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” He admitted, with a handsome smirk. “So, can I? Please?” He gave you the softest puppy dog look ever. And you melted.
You nodded once and the next thing you knew, he pushed you against the handrail and kissed you deeply. Lips soft against your own, his tongue stroking yours in a way that made you want to ride him until the sun came up the next morning. His hand remained at your waist, the other holding your head gently as he kissed you even deeper.
“Fuck,” He groaned against your lips. “Does all of you tastes just as sweet as your mouth, babygirl?” He chuckled when you whined and squirmed. “I can’t wait to find out.” He whispered before kissing you again.
Your brain was all foggy with desire. Your body warm and tingly under his touch. His mouth left yours and he kissed down your chin, and all over your neck and collarbones before kissing your lips again. “Bucky,” You gasped into the kiss when you felt his hand moving downward, towards your inner thighs.
“Too much, baby?” He asked, pulling away to look down into your eager eyes. “Are we moving too fast?”
You smiled up at him, “No. This is okay.” You grabbed his wrist and moved his hand even closer to where you desperately needed him. The thin swimsuit was all that separated his hand from the wetness accumulating at your core.
He held your stare as he moved the fabric to the side and carefully touched your throbbing clit. You squirmed, grinding against his fingers slowly. He chuckled, “Oh?” He smeared your wetness around a little more, “All that for me? Hmm?” He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth while his fingers moved up and down your wet slit. “Have you been this wet the whole time we were together?”
You couldn’t help but whisper a quiet, “Yes…”
He smirked, kissing your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? So unfair of you to keep this from me, babygirl.” He carefully slid a finger inside you, moving it in and out of you so slowly you couldn’t help but moan. “I would’ve taken care of you much sooner had I known you were dripping wet for me this whole time.”
You whined again at the sound of his shameless words. “Please…” You begged.
Bucky pulled away to look right into your eyes as he slid another finger inside you, moving both of them in and out of you while his thumb toyed with your clit. “Please what, baby?”
You squirmed, holding onto him for dear life while moving your hips in time with his fingers. “Please,” You begged again.
He smirked, “Use your words, princess.” He cooed. “Come on, tell daddy what you want and he’ll give it to you, baby.”
You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud, afraid the staff might hear what a dirty young woman you were being. “I want to come, please.” You whispered, face burning at the lust in your voice.
Bucky smiled in triumph. “There, wasn’t that easy?” He kissed your lips again, “Of course you can come, babygirl. You’ve been so good all day,” He said, “So kind and polite,” He chuckled, “Pretending like you didn’t want to climb into my lap anytime you looked into my eyes.”
You gasped, both in pleasure as his fingers touched a sensitive spot, but also because he had just read you like a book.
Bucky smirked. “What? You think I didn’t see it?” He leaned closer, lips brushing against your open mouth as he spoke, “I saw the way you looked at me. Longing and desire in your eyes. You just want to be taken care of. Just want a man to hold you and tell you it’s all gonna be okay and that you’re safe? Hmm?”
His fingers brought you right to that edge. You were a whimpering mess by then, his words making you even more dizzy.
“Look at me, baby.” When you did look up at him, he smiled softly down at you, “It’s okay babygirl, you’re with daddy now. You’re safe, and I’m gonna take care of you. Okay? Now, can you be my good girl and come for me? Hmm? Can you do that for daddy, baby?”
You came with a loud whimper, coming undone all over his fingers. Bucky watched you in awe, lips parted as he breathed deeper along with you.
“That’s a good girl,” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss. “You are so beautiful, babygirl.”
You kissed him back with even more passion than before, and your hands began exploring his body. His chest, down to his toned stomach, and further down… but then he stopped you by grabbing your wrists.
“Later, baby. I don’t want to rush.” He said. “I’m gonna take my time with you.” He promised. “Now come on, get in the tub. Don’t want you to get too chilly.” He pointed towards the tub and you began walking towards it. When you turned around you found him walking in the other direction, towards the mini bar.
You turned back around and headed over to the tub finally. You took the beach cover off and stepped in, nearly squealing with how perfectly hot the water was. Once you took your seat and submerged yourself till your shoulders, you noticed Bucky walked over with champagne flutes and a champagne bottle.
But not just that. He was also not wearing anything other than tight black boxers which left very little to the imagination. You had to turn your head just so you’d look away from the gorgeousness that was this man in front of you.
But of course, he caught the look. “Don’t look away, babygirl.” He said as he stepped in and sat down next to you, his thigh rubbing against yours, “You can look. I don’t mind.” He smirked, and winked at you before popping open the champagne.
He handed you a flute filled with bubbles and poured one for himself, set the bottle aside and clinked your flutes together. You each took a sip and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and moan at the taste. Expensive champagne always tasted heavenly.
When you opened your eyes again you found Bucky looking at you intently.
You smirked and asked, “What?”
He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. You put up no resistance as you settled onto his thighs, an arm around his neck. “Nothing. Just thinking about how you’ll moan with other things in your mouth.”
You chuckled. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” You replied, starting to get a little more playful around him.
He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” Then leaned in and kissed your neck, making you giggle and pull away. “You’re ticklish I see.”
“Please don’t.” You yelped, and laughed as he tickled you even more. Champagne splashed everywhere, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. “Stop!” You cried out in between uncontrollable giggles. Right as you were about to fall off his lap, he finally stopped. Kissing your face multiple times to make up for the tickle attack. Once you calmed down you said, “You’re mean. I think I wanna get off your boat now.” You teased.
Bucky tightened his arms around you. “No,” He groaned playfully, “I’m sorry, I’ll make up for it. Right now, I promise.”
One moment you were on his lap, and the next he was lifting you up and sitting you down on the edge of the tub. The handrail was right behind you to support your back, and you giggled as Bucky knelt in the warm water, right in between your thighs.
“What if someone sees?” You asked, looking around to see if you’d find some of the staff members around the deck.
Bucky placed both of his hands on your things and got closer to you. “They won’t.” He assured you. “Now come on, spread those legs for daddy.” He demanded, and you obeyed.
You leaned back into the handrail and parted your legs. Bucky smirked, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer, lowering himself and leaning in until his mouth was right above your core.
“Don’t even try to hide your moans from me. You hear me?” He questioned, holding your stare.
You nodded.
“Say ‘yes daddy’.”
You squirmed, pushing your hips closer to his mouth involuntarily. “Yes, daddy…” Your words ended on a gasp as he placed his mouth down and licked along your slit through the fabric of your swimsuit.
He placed a soft kiss right over your throbbing clit before he finally slid the thin fabric to the side and looked up at you, held your stare as his wet tongue licked down your folds. He moaned loudly as he tasted you. “Knew you’d taste like heaven.” He murmured, going in for more. Eager and impatient to make you come all over his tongue.
Your hands immediately grabbed the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair and gently messing up his neatly tied bun. You giggled at the sight, “I’m sorry I’m messing up your hair.” You whispered, followed by gasps of pleasure as he ate you out relentlessly.
Bucky pulled away for a moment, looking up at you. “I must be doing terrible if you can still speak coherent sentences, babygirl.” He smirked. “I’m sorry, let me do a better job. Hmm?”
You opened your mouth to tell him that he was just perfect but you ended up whining loudly instead as he parted your wet lips and pushed his tongue deeper into you. You threw your head back, resting it on the handrail as you moaned shamelessly, occasionally giggling as his fingers all over your thighs made you slightly ticklish.
His warm tongue stroked you so perfectly, and Bucky growled as you lost control, moving your hips instinctively against his mouth as you chased that feeling of pure bliss.
You whined loudly, goosebumps all over your body. You felt tingles shooting through you as his tongue teased you incessantly. Your fingers tugged harder on his hair, messing it up even more.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” He murmured, before moving his mouth upward to suck on your throbbing clit. “You look so pretty like this, baby. All open for me to taste, whining and whimpering…” He playfully bit your inner thigh, “What is it?” He asked as another loud moan escaped your mouth. “Too much? You want to come? You want more? What is it, huh? Tell daddy what you want.”
You just looked down at him, whimpering as you tugged harder on his hair, trying to get his mouth back on you. Your reaction made Bucky chuckle.
“No,” He cooed, “Use your words, baby.”
Damn him.
“Oh please,” You whined, “I want you. I want your mouth… please daddy,” You cried out, trying to clench or rub your thighs together for some kind of friction but his muscular body being between them stopped you from doing that.
Seeing your desperation only deepened his smirk, and increased the mischief in his eyes. “Such a good girl,” He murmured, biting down on your inner thigh before gently pushing his tongue inside of you again. You whimpered under his agonisingly soft touch.
Bucky looked up at you as he teased you with his tongue, the intensity of his gaze making you tremble. The sky was getting darker, the stars shining more and more now. And yet, you couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes.
“You’re all mine, babygirl…” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “Say it.” He demanded, licking up and down your slit, making you grind on his tongue. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’re daddy’s good girl.”
You cried out, “I’m daddy’s good girl…” You felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close.
Bucky could tell as well. “Then come for daddy, babygirl.” He whispered against your skin before biting down on your inner thigh as you whined under him.
You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. Humming in satisfaction, Bucky kissed his way up your body again, until he reached your mouth. Carefully, he pulled back into the tub and on his lap as he kissed you deeply.
The warm water felt heavenly, but nowhere near how good his tongue had felt just seconds ago. You sighed in pleasure through the kiss, and you felt him smiling against your lips before he pulled away to look at you.
“Where have you been all my life?” He asked, looking no less than a god in that tub. The soft lights made his eyes look ethereal. The darkening sky as a background made him look even more godly.
You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you straddled him. “Stuck in a city I don’t like. Doing a job I hated. Surrounded by people I no longer could relate to.” You joked, hiding the painful truth in your words.
Of course, he caught the sadness in your eyes. “Well, you’re here with me right now. Forget about the city, the job, and the people.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, he said, “It’s just you and me right now, princess. Just us, and no one else.”
You smiled, closing your eyes. Warmth from the bubbling water, warmth from his body, the cool breeze, the scent of summer and excitement in the air, it all surrounded you and it couldn’t have been more perfect.
“More champagne, baby?” He asked, pulling away.
“No,” You said, giving him a look he knew all too well. “How about we go inside now?”
Bucky smirked, already moving to grab towels. “Whatever the princess wants.”
—
You and Bucky made a quick stop in the kitchen found in the lower levels of his yacht, to grab some snacks. You held on to your chocolate fondue and strawberries while he held the other goods. And once you made it to the lovely bedroom, the two of you ended up lounging on the bed, just eating and talking about random stuff.
“Wait,” You said, swallowing down a mouthful of rich chocolate and strawberry. “You haven’t been in a relationship in over ten years? A whole decade?” You questioned, right after he finished telling you about how he hadn’t.
Bucky gave you a funny look. “I’m a busy man, babygirl. I didn’t have much time.”
You frowned, confused. “Well surely you’ve liked someone. Or are you too busy to have a crush and all that?”
He chuckled, and you along with him. “No, I haven’t. I guess it’s been just work and more work.”
You sighed and shrugged, reaching for another juicy strawberry, “I can’t even judge you, I haven’t been dating for years either. My last relationship…” You trailed off, “It doesn’t matter, I-,”
Bucky cut you off by grabbing your arm and pulling you on top of him, making you straddle him again. “No, it matters. Tell me what happened.” His tone was serious, caring, and attentive.
You sighed again, “Well, it ended badly. We were both too young I suppose, and then he cheated and we were on and off for a while before I ended it a few years ago.”
Bucky cupped your face, “You deserve so much better than that, baby. You hear me?”
You nodded, smiling down at him. “Look at me now,” You teased, then finally took a bite out of the strawberry, unintentionally moaning. “Oh fuck…” You whined, “This might be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.” You said.
Bucky smirked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, “You know, I could give you something even better to put in your mouth, princess.”
You swallowed your fruit and smirked down at him. “Oh?” You played along. “What’s that?”
He caressed your cheek lovingly, “Want daddy to show you?” You nodded enthusiastically. And he said, “Okay, get on your knees, baby.”
You shifted from his lap to kneel in between his legs and in the meantime, Bucky was undoing the towel from around his waist. The sight of his erection had you almost begging just so you could have a taste.
“Do you want to take daddy in your mouth and make him feel good, princess? Hmm?” He gently grabbed your chin so you couldn’t look away from him. “Do you want to make daddy come? Make him feel so good that he fills your mouth with his come, baby?”
You nodded quickly, “Yes. I do.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart as you watched Bucky lean back into the pillows, making himself comfortable while you knelt in between his muscular thighs, his cock pointing up… looking too good not to wrap your mouth around it.
“Go on then, baby.” Bucky’s hand slid into your hair as you leaned down and took him into your mouth.
You moaned, with Bucky’s cock in your mouth, at how good he felt. Warm, thick, veiny.
“Your mouth feels so good, princess,” Bucky cooed, tugging on your hair gently. You looked up at him and took him even further into your mouth. “There we go,” He gasped, “Careful baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.”
You whined, that caring tone of his driving you insane. Bucky held your head gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, babygirl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He said as you took him in until he hit the back of your throat. “Now be a good girl, and make daddy come.”
You did as he asked, moaning around his cock and using your hand to play with what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.
“Oh princess, you’re so good to daddy.”
Bucky’s groans and moans were delightful. His head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as he breathed deeply, occasionally grunting or moaning while you worked to make him come.
“Just like that, babygirl, come on make me come in that pretty mouth.”
You could feel the wetness starting to leak from you again. Fuck, this was so hot. The sounds he made, the sounds your mouth made, the desire and warmth washing over you… it was all too much.
You teased his tip with your tongue, alternating between sucking on it and taking him deep in and out of your mouth until Bucky came with a growl, his grip tightening on your hair for just a moment before he went limp. Chuckling as he emptied into your mouth, and watched you swallow all of him.
“Fuck, baby…” He groaned, “Come here and give me a kiss.” He said once you pulled him out of your mouth and you didn’t hesitate to climb onto his lap again, pressing your mouth against his.
You moaned into the kiss, slowly grinding down on his thigh trying to alleviate the sweet pain in between your legs.
“You’ll be the death of me.” He murmured against your lips, then went in for a kiss again before groaning, “Oh babygirl, daddy’s gotta have you now.” Then he flipped the two of you around, hovering above you as he smiled down at you.
“Is this okay, babygirl?” He asked, caressing your face lovingly. “You still want daddy to make you feel good?”
You trailed your hands up and down his muscular back, and nodded. “Yes,” You smiled up at him, then the chain dangling from his neck caught your eye. Without thinking, you grabbed it in between your teeth and yanked on it playfully.
Bucky laughed looking down at you. “Is that what you want? The chain?” With one hand he got it off of him and put it over your head, you pulled it down until it rested on your neck. “There,” Bucky said, leaning down to kiss your neck, “First gift from daddy to his princess.”
You chuckled, “Why thank you,” You pulled him down for a kiss. He deepened the kiss, his hand drifting down in between your bodies, getting rid of the towel that had been hiding your body from him.
“You are so beautiful,” He whispered against your mouth as his hand touched you everywhere. “Wait, are you on birth control?” He asked.
You chuckled, “Yes, don’t worry.”
“Oh fuck, baby I can’t wait.” He groaned, pulling away to look down at you, “Can I fuck you now? Please? Can daddy make you feel good?”
Your head spun with how badly you wanted him. Especially given how he shamelessly slid his tip up and down your slit. You nodded immediately, “Yes.” You said, “Yes, please.”
He leaned in for a kiss again. He kissed your skin from your mouth to your neck as he carefully slid into you, so gently. “Tell me if I hurt you, baby.” He breathed into your ear. “Is this okay?” He asked, looking down at you. His pretty blue eyes so caring and gentle.
You nodded, “I’m okay.” You whispered, feeling warm all over.
When he pushed even deeper, your walls welcomed him perfectly and he moaned under his breath as he filled you up entirely, inch by inch. You gasped and moaned as he moved so slowly you almost lost your mind.
Bucky swore. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him so perfectly he couldn’t help but just stay still for a moment and just enjoy the feeling of being inside you. “Babygirl, you feel so perfect for daddy. Look at me,” Once you did, he smiled down at you and said, “That’s it, keep your eyes on me while I fuck you, okay? I need to know I’m not hurting you.” He said.
That only made you wish he’d fuck you like an animal. You groaned, “You’re not hurting me,” You said, “Please, daddy. Please fuck me harder.”
He chuckled, “There she is,” He whispered into your ear, “You’re daddy’s dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. Fucking you nice and hard, “Does that feel good, baby? Hmm? Does my pretty princess feel good?”
You nodded, moaning shamelessly, “Yes… more, more please.” You cried out, throwing your head back as he started rocking in and out of you.
He leaned in and kissed your lips again, “I said eyes on me, baby.” He groaned, panting against your lips as he fucked you deeper. “Look at me.”
The air around you got warm again as you met his heated stare, his movements were slightly rougher, but passionate and loving. His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath.
“Oh babygirl, you’re all mine.” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more under him.
When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was intense, but loving. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him.
He moaned at how tight you felt around his throbbing cock, and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for me, babygirl…” He whispered, voice strained and gravelly which sent chills down your body. “Come for daddy,” He growled.
His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar, sweet pain in between your legs, making you gasp for air and your walls clench violently around him. You moaned loudly again, wantonly.
His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly.
“Oh baby, you take this cock so well,” He growled into your ear, making your brain all foggy. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful while you take all of me in there, huh?”
With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a cry of pleasure, gushing out all around him, grinding against him eagerly while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, filling you up.
“Fuck,” He gasped, getting off of you quickly and holding you close to him as you caught your breath, “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked, kissing your head.
You ended up giggling as you came down from that high. A place so far away that no one ever took you before. “I’m okay,” You said, “I do want some cuddles though.”
Bucky chuckled, “Whatever my princess wants,” Then pulled you into him, spooning you from behind. “Get some sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up tomorrow.”
–
The next morning, neither of you could get your hands off each other. So that meant spending half of the day in bed. And by mid-day when you said that maybe he should take you back to the shore, Bucky refused.
“Just spend another night with me. Please, babygirl.” He begged with those puppy dog eyes. “I’ll take you back to your hotel room tomorrow morning, I promise.”
–
He did take you back. But not to drop you, because he had convinced you to check out, take your things and move them to his boat.
“We’re travelling to the same countries,” He said, “Let's just take the boat and go together.”
You ended up spending two whole weeks with him after that conversation. Going into the third week, you forgot all about real life. All that existed were these perfect days with Bucky; sailing around Europe, watching sunsets and sunrises and stargazing, having amazing sex, and repeat.
–
Reality hit you like a freight train one night when you finally remembered to charge your phone and realised that you had forgotten to update your friends and family about your location and whose company you were in. You scrolled through the endless missed calls, emails, and unanswered texts, and quickly responded to some of them.
You didn’t get much sleep that night, not only because Bucky kept you up until the early hours of the morning, but because you were scared of having to get back to the real world.
Bucky found you out on the main deck that morning. You leaned against the handrail, looking at the sun that would rise in a few minutes, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He stayed a few steps back, just admiring you.
But you knew he was there. You could always tell he was watching. So you looked over your shoulder and gave him a smile, “Good morning, handsome.”
He rushed over and wrapped his arms around you. “I can’t get over how good you look in my clothes.” And when you didn’t respond with something sassy as usual, Bucky knew something was wrong. “What is it, baby? Are you okay?”
You turned to face him instead of the sunrise, and just said it. “I should go back home. I’ve been away for longer than I should’ve been.” You watched how he frowned at you, his eyes still a little sleepy. His hair was tied into a messy, low bun.
You knew you’d never be able to forget this man. Even if you go back home and get sucked back into a cycle you wanted no part of. You couldn’t help but touch his face gently, caressing his cheek.
“But,” He said, a little confused still, “We’re having fun, aren’t we, baby?” He leaned closer, holding you tighter. “You can stay. You should stay, you hate that city.”
You nodded, “I know. But I can’t stay here forever, Buck.” It hurt to even say it.
“Why not?” He argued. “I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I been taking care of you?” He questioned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Please babygirl, don’t leave me.”
You gasped softly as he kissed and nibbled on your skin, his mouth moving all over your neck. “I.. I need to go home at some point.” You said.
Bucky pulled away to look at you. The sky began to get lighter. His eyes still shone like jewels. “And where’s that?” He asked. “Where’s home, baby? Hmm? In that city you don’t like? Surrounded by people you can’t relate to? Stuck in some job you hate?” He returned the words you’d said to him the night you first met.
And for some reason, that made you tear up. The thought of the life before him. “I… I don’t know.” You said, lips quivering as a tear fell down your cheek.
He quickly wiped your tears away, “Baby…” He whispered, “That’s not a home, princess. Home is supposed to feel warm, free, and happy. Are you happy or free in that city?”
You shook your head. “No,” You sniffled. “But I can’t just keep running.”
“Just be with me. Here.” He said. “This isn’t running, this is us having fun.”
“Well, you’ll have to go back to real life at some point too. What then?” You asked.
He gave you a smile, “I’ll take you with me when I do, princess.”
You scoffed, “Bucky, I’m serious.” You said.
“So am I.” He insisted. “Stay with me, babygirl. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.”
You sighed, and wiped away your own tears. “And then what? Make you my sugar daddy?” You joked.
“Like that’s such a horrible thing.” He argued.
You rolled your eyes at him, tried to get out of his arms but he wouldn’t let you. You faced him again, “I can’t do that.”
“This is gonna work.” He insisted again. “Just stay with me.”
“We’ve known each other for mere weeks.” You said, thinking back on how these mere week have been some of the best days of your entire life.
Bucky gave you a wise smile, and said calmly, “I’ve been in relationships that have lasted months, and even years, and yet no one has ever made me feel the way you did these past few weeks.”
You shed another tear, “I’m a mess, Buck. I don’t even have a job.” You chuckled humorlessly, then sniffled.
“I’ll get you a job.” He offered.
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Okay then, whatever you want, princess.” He said, holding you close. “But I can't let you go. I won’t.”
“You’re awfully stubborn.” You whispered, hiding your face into the crook of his warm neck.
“Stay with me.”
“Bucky…”
“Baby.”
“What am I gonna tell my parents?” You questioned. “Oh I found a really kind, charming and handsome older guy who took me on a nice ride on his nice boat and I think I’m gonna move in and start living with him?”
Bucky chuckled. “I took you on more than just a ride on my boat.”
You shoved him playfully. Then relaxed into his arms again. “I’m scared, Buck.” You admitted.
“I’m not.” He said firmly. “Baby, we’ll figure it out. Tell me you don’t want this. Look me in the eyes and tell me you wanna leave what we have right now and go back to the city.” He pulled away to look at you. “Tell me that truthfully, and I’ll let you go. Can you do that?”
You sighed, tears filling your eyes again. “No,” You whispered. “I don’t wanna go.” You said, “But I’m scared.”
“Shh,” He hugged you close again. “I’ve got you, babygirl.”
You wrapped your arms tightly around him, breathed in his scent and wanted to cry some more because this man was so dreamy. “What if you stop liking me?”
“Hey.” He chided playfully.
“I’m just saying. What if?”
Bucky pulled away to look down at you again, “Why would you ask me that? Is it really that hard to believe that I love you? Haven’t I shown it to you these past weeks?” He questioned.
Your eyes widened. “Oh. You love me?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like you were teasing him, but it did.
Bucky rolled his eyes. Whispering under his breath, “You’re such a brat.” As he tried to pull away, you tightened your arms around him to stop him.
“No, no, don't go anywhere.” You chuckled at the expression on his face. “Tell me more about how much you love me.”
He gave you a kind smile, leaned down to kiss your forehead and whispered, “How about I show you?”
So you let him show you. And you stayed.
And the life you had together couldn’t have been more perfect.
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Day 25: Body Worship
Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon
Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader
Summary: Bucky wants to prove to you how beautiful you are on the anniversary of the first time you met.
Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, sensual and romantic, oral (fem receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, creampie, hints at reader being insecure about her body, mentions a pocket of fat on her inside thigh
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: a special fic on a special day for me ❤️ dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies
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Your hand grasps Bucky’s bulging bicep as he leads you back into your hotel room after having kept you occupied sightseeing throughout the day.
You thought it was suspicious how interested he had been exploring the old city, when you could instead be exploring each other as he usually prefers, but when you see the scene in front of you as you return to your presidential suite, it all suddenly makes sense.
Candles flicker in the middle of a formally set table, luscious red rose petals scatter the white tablecloth and floor, and where the extravagant leather couch had been this morning, now an elaborate blanket fort has been constructed. Soft violin music plays in the background as Bucky leads you around the room, allowing you time to take in everything which has been set up specially for you.
“Do you remember what today is?” He asks in what you assume is in response to a dumbfounded expression on your face.
You wrack your brain for what on earth you’ve forgotten - a birthday, anniversary, special occasion? But you come up completely blank. Slowly shaking your head, the tips of your cheeks heat up, embarrassed that Bucky has organised such a romantic night for something you’ve completely forgotten.
“Three years ago today was the first time I laid eyes on you, the first time we met.” He informs without an ounce of judgement to be perceived in his tone.
It’s hard to believe it was only three years ago you met the man you now refer to as your soulmate, it feels like you’ve known this generous and passionate person an entire lifetime.
Bucky holds out his hand, which you take without question, and pulls you into his broad chest, swaying in time to the orchestral music. You rest your head on his strong pec, feeling his heart beating just for you as his soft lips kiss your hairline.
“Never in my life have I ever wanted anyone more than I wanted you.” His voice sounds shaky, almost as if he’s choked up and trying to get the words out without sounding affected.
You look up at him through your lashes to find your devoted husband with tears in his eyes, gazing at you like his entire world is resting in the palm of his hand.
“My life has not been the same since I met you. I can’t fathom an existence without you; everything is brighter, bolder, more colourful when you're next to me. This night three years ago, I remember going home to an empty bed and thought it was strange how much my mouth was hurting. It was such a weird sensation. Then I realised, it only hurt because I’d been smiling from ear to ear the whole time I was with you.”
“You never told me that.” Tears are now welling in your own eyes, but you fight them back so that you can memorise the smile curving on Bucky’s features and the twinkle in his eye that you’ve only ever noticed when he’s looking at you.
“I knew that night you were someone I wanted in my life, in whatever way you would have me. It was like I could see my entire future laid out in front of me, all encompassed in one strong, stunning woman, with the most gorgeous, sparkling eyes I’ve ever seen and a brilliant smile that makes my heart leap out of my chest every single damn time. And here I am the luckiest man in the entire world that you chose me to be the one you trusted with your heart.”
He takes your hand while still swaying to the inflections of the string instrument, and presses the palm of your hand against his chest. His heartbeat is quicker than the pace you’re used to feeling while he’s resting, but the notion that his thoughts of you are the reason his body is reacting in such a way makes your own heart leap out of your chest.
“I would never give it to anyone else, my love.”
“Te iubesc pentru totdeauna [I love you forever]. I still can’t believe you’re all mine.” His smile is as bright and warm as the setting sun, and right now you’re Icarus flying fatally close.
But James Barnes is worth falling out of the sky for.
The words tasting sweet and sincere on his pillow soft lips when you kiss him. His mouth moves slowly, yet purposefully against yours, trying to convey his love for you in action, rather than just words. His hands cup your jaw, coaxing you to open up to him, his tongue dancing with yours in a display of his yearning need.
“I wanna give you the whole world.”
“You already have. You are my whole world.” This time it’s him who kisses you, with much more ardour and intensity, sweeping his tongue in your mouth. His hands slide down the length of your back and pull you flush with him, a moan escaping his lips as your hands tangle in his hair. He hasn’t had it cut since before the wedding, and the additional length allows you to tug on the ends nicely. “Let’s skip dinner and go straight to dessert, shall we?”
“You’re the only thing I’m craving tonight.” The hunger in his eyes certainly indicates he could devour you like a five course meal if he were so inclined, so who are you to stop him?
His large hands on your hips slowly turn you around so your ass is pressed against his front. They trace the curves of your figure gradually, taking his time, paying attention to every swell and dip of your shape which he has helped you learn to love.
Bucky zips down your dress, the material coming loose over your shoulders, and with a little shimmy, you’re almost naked before him.
“God, you’re so gorgeous. Let me show you how beautiful you are to me.”
Boys you dated in the past were only interested in one thing: seeing you naked. Though Bucky loves you bare and writhing for him, he first and foremost loves who you are; loves your soul. Being able to strip you off your clothes has always been a privilege to him, not a right.
His lips press gentle, feather light kisses along your shoulder as he rids you of your underwear, and all of a sudden you feel very exposed standing in the middle of the room, even though Bucky’s seen you naked a thousand times.
As soon as he turns you around again to face him, eyes brimming with nothing other than pure adoration and devotion, that nagging feeling of being on display evaporates. He loves you, has vowed to spend the rest of his life worshipping you, there is not a single inch of your body that Bucky Barnes does not love.
“Lay back for me baby.” Bucky requests, his powerful hands assisting you as you fall back into the blanket fort. “I got you.” He promises, ensuring you don’t collapse in a way that will result in you being hurt. The care in his touch, how gentle this burly, tattooed man is, as if he is handling a precious artefact he cannot afford to damage.
Though Bucky looks ready to take you right then and there, he starts out slowly, trailing kisses down your neck, covering your chest and breasts, tongue swirling around your nipples and sucking on both of them until they form stiff peaks, all the while whispering sweet praises against your hot skin.
“My beautiful wife. So fucking gorgeous. My Queen. These perfect tits. God, these hips, these fucking hips. And your thighs, they drive me insane. Just wanna be buried between them. Wanna give you everything, all of me. Gonna make love to you, darling. Make you feel so good.” His breath is hot against your skin, words of devotion whispered just for your ears as he places sweet kisses on the inside of your thighs, staring at your knee, and making his was towards your core, paying particular attention to the pocket of fat you’d forever disliked about your legs, but Bucky has always adored.
A moan escapes your mouth and your eyes roll back as Bucky’s strong arms hold your thighs apart and his lips close around your clit. It’s almost unexpected, with how he had been taking his time treasuring all other parts of you, but you feel a flood of wetness gush out of you at the intimate contact.
There’s a sense of power having a man as important as James Barnes lying between your legs, treating you like a queen, obsessed with bringing you to orgasm. But when Bucky looks up at you through his lashes as he suckles on your clit, you feel nothing but a rush of palpable love.
His tongue is experienced in those little lapping movements that have you throwing your head back, his strong hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you completely open for him. Bucky’s hips rut into the pillows and blankets below him as you grind your hips on his face.
You can’t even control the obscene sounds falling from your lips as Bucky continues to abuse your pussy, your hands flying to his hair as he leads you closer and closer to the edge of the ultimate high.
“You look so beautiful when you cum - show me.” The lower half of Bucky’s face glistens with your juices before he dives back into your folds, as hungry as ever.
You oblige, as you do every time your dangerously gorgeous husband requests this from you, it’s like his words themselves compel you to satisfy his order. Your back arches off the pillows, your whole body trembling as a devastating pleasure rips through you, it feels like burning sunshine radiates in your veins, surging with every pulse.
Bucky’s lips don’t let up their suction until your thighs stop shaking, only to switch his attention to your stomach, showering every inch of your soft skin with kisses as his hands knead your breasts.
You feel cold and empty for a moment as Bucky focuses on stripping off his clothes, but as soon as he looks back at you, completely bare and ready to finish what he started, warmth blooms in your chest.
“I’m so fucking hard for you, darling.” Bucky sits on his heels, thick cock in hand as he rubs his leaking tip through your soaking folds, humming at the sensation. A whine falls from your lips, desperate for him to fill you up, for you to feel so utterly full and satiated by him that you’re almost on the brink of insanity.
“Need to feel you Buck, please, I need you so fucking bad.”
He mumbles something in Romanian you don’t understand in response as he pushes his swollen tip inside you. You let out simultaneous groans as he slowly fills you up. As he bottoms out, he rests his forehead against yours. You finally feel complete with him buried to the hilt.
“Fuuuccckkk… a lifetime of that feeling will never be enough.”
You moan against his mouth as his hands intertwine with yours, pinning them above your head as his eyes brim with pure love. He starts off slowly, almost agonisingly so, pulling all the way out of you before thrusting himself inside to where it feels like he’s in your stomach, watching your face intently to your reactions as his cock kisses your cervix.
His bare chest presses to yours, caging you in, hearts thundering against each other as you move together to a relentless rhythm, an intoxicating tide of intimacy and pleasure. His gaze and touch are full of love, a contrast to the harshness of the underworld he was carved out of, but you know it’s you who makes him tender.
“That’s my girl, taking me so well aren’t you?” Your nails rake down his back as you feel your walls clench down on his member. The rhythm of his cock stroking your velvety walls doesn't let up as his lips attach to your neck, sucking your skin in a way that makes you see stars.
He understands your wants and needs better than anyone else, learning the formula for your gratification in a way that none of your previous partners ever tried to.
“Oh God, you’re so deep, Buck. Feels so good.” His hips roll into yours fluidly, hips circling and rubbing against your g-spot so effortlessly with every thrust. The pressure in your lower belly threatens to engulf you, drown you in a sea of pleasure, but it’s a demise you’ll embrace when Bucky’s making you feel like you’re floating on a cloud of pure bliss.
Your orgasm approaches fast, the look of complete desperation in Bucky’s eyes only bringing you closer to the edge. All it takes is Bucky whispering a phrase in his native language and another deep thrust for you to come apart on his cock.
You can barely breathe with the ferocity of your high, it feels like an entire waterfall of pleasure washing over you at once, overwhelming, brutal, but oh so good.
“I’m gonna cum so hard for you baby.” Bucky moans as your walls flutter around him. He looks the picture of utter sexiness, jaw hanging open, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and that contrasting warm fondness in his blown out pupils.
Your chest squeezes when it’s your name that his lips enunciate as he spills his large load inside you.
You’re the one making him feel this good. You’re the only person who he will ever share this intimate side of himself with again. The only one who gets to see his face as he comes undone, steel blue eyes boring into yours as if he wants to remember each and every detail of your face as you cum together.
Bucky collapses next to you, arm slung around your waist as you both catch your breath. You smile at him and he beams right back as you sweep a strand of hair from his eyes.
“God, I’m so in love with you. Can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” There’s a moment where he simply looks at you, as if trying to convince himself you laid beside him is in fact his reality, before he kisses the tip of your nose.
“You don’t have to imagine, Buck, I’m all yours, for the rest of forever.” You snake your arms around his torso and pull yourself flush against his broad chest, feeling him place a kiss to your hairline. “I love you.”
Bucky pulls a blanket over your intertwined bodies as you close your eyes, feeling completely content falling asleep beside the love of your life in a blanket fort.
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Breakfast with the Baron
Breakfast is always more enjoyable when you share it with someone. Today you shared one with a certain large, pink sheep man who stole your heart and has the ring to prove it.
Mood music for peak domestic romance
Figured I'd try my hand at writing a Gender Neutral X Reader/self-insert story to accompany the art! (First time ever, ended up being much longer than I thought because of course it is, this is me you're talking about. ~1500 words under the cut.)
WARNING: Story has mild, silly suggestiveness at some points. (It's very PG-13, but just in case loving and goofy descriptions of sheep men's bodies are not your cup of Dad Fuel.)
Enjoy!
Edit: Fic is now up on AO3, you can read it there too!
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Sunlight streamed through the window in your bedroom, its rays falling on your form, and you stirred from your dreamland. Too early. You shifted so that you were facing away from the blinding light. But it was too late, you were doomed to be awake now. Bleary-eyed, you scanned your room and noted that you were alone. Not a large pink sheep man in sight. But the delicious scents coming from beyond the room indicated he was home, and that was enough to make you rise from bed.
After going through your typical morning routine, you found him exactly where you thought he'd be. Baron Draxum considered himself king of the kitchen, both at work and home, and he was wholeheartedly committed to feeding you well. Early on in your relationship with him, you wondered if he was spoiling you with so much home cooking. In time, you understood that it was his way of caring for your well-being—a love language. Now he made roughly half of your meals and you did not complain.
It was the weekend, so Draxum had gone all out even though it was early. Both of your favorite breakfast foods were on the menu. It was no wonder that you cartoonishly floated into the kitchen by following the waft of tasty smells. In addition to the meal, coffee was already brewed. A steaming hot novelty coffee mug that read "DAD FUEL" sat on the counter while Draxum cooked. Judging by the droopy eyes and a croaky, mumbled “good morning” when you entered his domain, you were sure that he would be drinking most of the coffee pot whether or not you had any for yourself.
Before you sat down at the dining table, you peered out one of the nearby windows. It was a gorgeous sunny day in June, just before the sweltering heat hit hard. These cooler summer days were precious, so you had the urge to have breakfast outside in the garden.
While the old Yōkai had finally adjusted to life on the surface, he still wasn't particularly fond of bright sunlight, as he had lived underground for much of his life. You could already hear his complaints about your idea before you even started. Still, you two had been together long enough that you knew how to effectively persuade him.
Draxum was nearly finished cooking everything. He was working the stove and had his back turned. Even from behind, his unkempt appearance was attractive—nest hair stuck out in all directions, his robe rumpled, the way he tiredly hunched over his workspace. He was like this on weekends when he didn’t have to groom himself and rush off to work. While he cleaned up well, his natural state was just as stunning. You gingerly wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, nuzzled his back, and suggested your idea. Your face was buried in his back so you weren’t using puppy eyes, but you sure were using a puppy voice, a wholly unnecessary “pretty please with a cherry on top” kind of beg. His head tilted as he thought it over. A small smile graced his aging face when he looked over his shoulder. He agreed with a nod. Your loving expression worked like a charm.
Minutes later, the sleepy sheep shuffled behind you, breakfast in hand, to a big wooden picnic table that was partly in the shade of nearby trees. Your bountiful feast was spread out, more than enough for two. Books and other entertainment were also brought along, as you planned to camp out there for the rest of the morning.
With an old man grunt, Draxum plopped down in a white chair on the far side of the table, and you sat opposite him in a matching chair. You couldn’t help but smile at the ways he was handsomely growing older. You wanted to lightly tease him about sounding as old as he looks, but you bit your tongue. With his back toward the sun, it illuminated his form and made him look ethereal. Disrupting the tranquility seemed like a crime.
Draxum was one of those people who didn’t care about much of anything too early in the day. He wasn't much of a conversationalist either, at least until the coffee kicked in, so he did not chat with you at first. Seemingly stuck in a lingering daze, he wasn’t even swatting away the gnats circling him, but every so often one of his ears flicked on reflex when one got a little too close. Again, downright adorable, but you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from making any comment that would change his awareness. It was a miracle that the man managed to make breakfast as good as he did considering his state. Maybe he put in more effort to be attentive earlier, and now that you were sitting down he was letting his mind wander.
Not wanting to disturb him, you eagerly dug into your food, trying to keep your sounds of pleasure at a minimum. No words were exchanged, but none were needed. The peaceful sounds of nature accompanied you as birds sang their hearts out, squirrels scurried up and down the trees beside the table, and bugs lazily buzzed above your heads.
Perhaps it was the warm gentle breeze or a subtle movement that did it. However it happened, when you looked up from your plate, something changed about him that your eyes fixated on while you mindlessly chewed. You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you snapped out of it when you finally heard his gentle baritone rumble, still a tad raspy from overnight disuse.
"What are you staring at, love?"
Carnelians glistened with curiosity when his eyes met yours. He sipped on his coffee and did not break eye contact, more alert than before. But the tone of his question was adorably dopey and sincere, so it seemed he was still not as aware of the change as you were.
The sheep was so groggy that he failed to notice that his robe had slipped from his left shoulder, revealing half of his ample, plush chest. A nipple and scars underneath his pecs invitingly poked through. Even though you were well-acquainted with his body, the accidental half-reveal somehow made it sexier. Fortunately, there was a table between you and him. If there wasn’t, you might have been tempted to sidle up to him and bury your face in his cotton candy pillows.
It was difficult to avert your gaze from such a magnificent sight, but thankfully something else caught your eye. The wedding ring on his finger sparkled when it caught a ray of sun. It was a pleasant reminder of the promise he made to you: I am yours and only yours.
Married life with Baron Draxum was interesting, to say the least. Though he was an aggravating man at times—his vices could be counted on more than one hand and his flaws on more than two—his love was strong and steadfast. Underneath all that pride and sass, Draxum was a soft man. He liked to challenge you—your mind, body, and soul—yet never made you feel like you weren’t enough for him. Whether in word or action, in his eyes there was no one on Earth as lovely and unique as you. He had quirky ways of showing it, but he always made it known in one way or another.
Despite this, he more than made up for any of your smaller grievances with endearing moments like these.
You took your time to swallow the food you were eating, set down your fork, and think of what to say. A coy smile inched its way across your face. You leaned back and waved your hand. "Oh, nothing. Keep eating."
The old sheep squinted at you. Whether or not he could sense your playful lie, he was still too out of it to probe further. He simply responded with a soft grunt into his coffee mug, set it down, and dug back into his food.
The cotton candy pillow continued to hang out all breakfast long. Either he did not notice at all, or he did and didn't bother to fix it. If the latter, who knew whether it was out of pure laziness or because he knew giving you an eyeful was a treat. Regardless, you were not eager to point it out and ruin the fun. It was hard to call it a wardrobe malfunction when the warrior's robe seemed to be functioning exactly as the universe intended in that little moment.
A sweet domestic life with Baron Draxum was never bland. Ordinary days and regular routines were marinated with the spice and zest of the love you shared. It was your secret hope that flame would never extinguish.
You had woken from your deep slumber from the night before. At least, you thought you had. But that morning felt so heavenly and blissful that you could never be completely sure it wasn't a dream.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#baron draxum#rottmnt draxum#rottmnt x reader#draxum x reader#holopossums#tw suggestive#although tbh feel free to insert other adult canons or OCs too idrc it's meant to be vague#i needed domestic Draxum content so i made it myself#you think i wouldn't go all out? it's like you don't even know me /j#drawing took forever i didn't even keep track. writing took less#my hyper detailed writing meets the challenge of not using identifying description of reader#this was not easy actually much respect to x reader writers#anyway happy pride 🌈
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Hey! How would father!Michael Myers feel about Eddie Gluskin wanting Michael's 25 year old daughter who is also a patient in the asylum to be his wife?
How are you?
(I am fine. How about you ?)
It started the day when you were transferred from another asylum to St Louis. Female patients weren’t usually allowed, but you were made an exception because Michael wouldn’t go anywhere without his precious daughter. You had grown up surrounded by slashers and hence, not much scared you.
When Eddie Gluskin was admitted in St Louis, he wasn’t introduced to you because…well…Michael.
But one day, you happened to wake up before your father and come down for some breakfast when you accidentally met Eddie. You were both stunned. You had never met before and Eddie wasn’t even aware that there were any women around other than the nurses.
Your eyes met and once the shock over, he decided to pretend being too busy with his coffee to speak. You quickly realised it was best not to stare, so you decided to just go toast yourself some slices of bread for breakfast.
There was silence.
Eddie glanced a few times in your direction, but didn’t speak a word. Neither did you. Michael had taught you not to speak to strangers, so you didn’t. You hence didn’t speak until you were back upstairs and took a deep breath. He was…gorgeous. You decided not to speak to your father about that little episode.
He wouldn’t have understood and besides…you probably wouldn’t see him again.
…
But then, you started waking up early everyday to get breakfast and Eddie was there—like clockwork. You never spoke, but awkward silence turned to shy smiles and little glances here and there…until one day.
You were about to get back to your room when you stopped dead in your tracks and looked down at the pancakes in your plate…Surely, Michael would not mind being short of a few, right ? You took a deep breath and backtracked to sit down next to him. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.
"…You like pancakes ?" You asked. He remained silent for a moment before looking at you. He stayed silent for a moment before he finally smiled.
"I do enjoy a good pancake. Would you care to share ?"
It was the first time you were hearing his voice. It sounded soft and a little hushed—as if he wasn’t used of using it all that much. You smiled back.
"Not at all." You then proceeded to serve him pancakes and Eddie smiled again before digging in.
"I’m Y/N Myers by the way." You introduced yourself and his pale blue eyes looked up at you.
"Eddie. Eddie Gluskin."
From that day onwards, you started spending time with Eddie.
You started watching him and tried to understand who he really was. Eddie was respectful and polite and seemed like the perfect gentleman. You didn’t know why a man like him would be admitted to a mental institution—especially since he seemed so clear-minded.
From what you had heard, he had just transferred from a place called Mount Massive asylum. He hadn’t brought it up though, so you guessed that it wasn’t a fond memory of his. You couldn’t have access to files, but you had heard nurses speak about a certain ‘Waylon Park’. Once you started your research, you were able to understand what his past was and why he was here.
But, you were not one to judge too quickly, especially being Michael’s daughter offered you perspective and that not everything was as it seemed.
The more you shared, the closer you got…until one day, Eddie was the one preparing breakfast and before you could protest, he had invited you to sit down and get a taste. You sat down and started eating with a grin on your face and Eddie seemed happy that you’d eat his food.
"Good, darling. Really good." He cooed and you smiled—completely oblivious…until your vision started faltering and you realised that Eddie had surely drugged you. In a matter of seconds, you were asleep. He then picked you up bridal style and smirked as he proceeded to carry you to his bedroom.
"Sleep soundly, my darling. Sweet dreams."
———————————————————————
After your ‘disappearance’, Michael was desperate and he knocked at every door, searched every dark spot in the entire asylum. He could not find you anywhere and finally called your name over and over again. He usually never used his voice, but this was an emergency. Finally…he got news.
Eddie came to him with a letter.
…
An invitation to your wedding.
"…"
Michael looked up at him in shock. He couldn’t believe it and before anyone could stop him, he had taken Eddie by the throat and threw him against a wall.
"You took her ?!"
He then proceeded to wrap his hand around Eddie’s throat and squeezed. But, Eddie wasn’t afraid. Eddie took a moment before standing back up and claiming:
"We are in love…"
Michael remained silent for a moment before bashing Eddie’s head against the wall.
"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER ?!"
Suddenly, nurses and doctors and guards came in to stop the fight and some of them had to tackle down Michael to make him stop turning Eddie’s head into mush. Michael’s knuckles had turned red by the time he was dragged out of the room.
Fortunately, you were found in Eddie’s room…in a closet. He had tied you up and drugged you. Fortunately, no harm was done to you and you were brought back to Michael safe and sound.
But you could not help yourself to ask why.
Why had he done this ?
So, you went to his cell.
"…Eddie ?" There was no movement for a couple of minutes before Eddie slowly turned his head towards you and smiled.
"Darling."
You sighed before asking him.
"Why ? Why did you do this ? I thought we were friends."
Eddie clicked his tongue.
"Please, darling. Do not insult me. You knew what I wanted. I am a patient, just as much as you. I would assume you already knew about me and the reasons that brought me here, no ?"
You shuddered at the look he gave you.
"…You knew I liked you. You could have waited." You told him with a sad smile and Eddie laughed.
"Oh my sweet sweet darling." He suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer. "I have WAITED my entire existence to find my perfect wife. And now that I have finally found you…my ALMOST perfect wife…You expect me to wait some more ?"
He smirked and your heart paced rapidly in your chest. He released you and you took a few steps back.
"A-Almost ?" You asked and he chuckled.
"Yes. Almost. You will be my wife. But first, we have got to get rid of your FATHER, darling."
Your eyes widened in shock and you shook your head. He tilted his head and his smirk softened as his eyes bored into yours.
"Don’t you worry, my love. I will be the one taking care of everything for you…We will soon be together. As it was intended. You and I. Me and my sweet wife…Just wait for me, as I have waited for you."
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That one night in Atlanta
Masterlist
Lili hasn’t seen Alex in four years, since Vietnam and that immediate attraction, it seems, still lingered
Warnings: Smut | Alex Summers x FemOC
Notes: Lili is Peter’s cousin from a previous one shot - don’t do what Alex & Lili do -> wrap it before you tap it even when drunk
Liliana Eisenhardt, a twenty-six year old woman who’s Polish accent hadn’t dimmed since her move to Washington DC when she was five.
Lili, a Polish woman who had been one of the many mutants forced to follow America into the Vietnam war- though she was there as a young twenty-two year old nurse stationed in the Mutants tent… as a science experiment for her mutation and to test the others like her.
It’s where she first met Alexander Summers, or well Alex as he had officially introduced himself and told her many a time to refer to him as instead of Summers. The day she finally caved had been the first time they spoke properly, the first time any of them had seen her use that mutation of hers (and on a scientist who had tried to call for help at that).
Lili shot back the cold burning liquid as she drowned out the shit day she had had. Another place of work declining her for being a Mutant. It was getting annoying.
She’d come all the way to Atlanta, hoping to transfer universities as she aimed for her doctorate in Physics (and Education), and get a paid internship at a local high school. But oh no- her file stated she was one of the mutants selected for Vietnam some four years ago so we can’t have the likes of you here.
It was fucking stupid.
“Tough day?” She blinked, recognition setting in as she turned to the voice. What was previously sand blond slicked back hair with buzzed down sides was now light brown and sweeping by his jaw. Blue eyes watching her carefully as she took him in.
“I’d say utter shit Summers.” She said finally, spinning on the bar chair to greet him properly.
“Looks it Eisenhardt.” He remembered her- honestly that surprised her, she never thought she was that memorable even with her copper hair and green eyes and yet he proved her wrong. “Saw you across the room, wanted to double check it was you though.”
“You’d be correct. Still Lili.” She smiled, head nodding to the bar. “You here for drinks with friends or..?”
“Just me unfortunately. Was doing some work here and decided I deserved a drink before I go home in the next few days.” He sat himself in the seat beside hers. “You?”
“Well I had hoped I’d be able to transfer universities so I could do a paid internship but.. they looked at my file and well ‘we can’t have one of your folk here’ so I also deserved a drink… or five.” Alex winced sympathy written all over that ungodly handsome face.
Instead of saying anything more he nodded to the barkeep. They both really needed a fucking drink.
Alex Summers couldn’t forget her even if he tried. The soft spoken nurse who always patched him and his team up, who never judged them, who only smiled when he and the others talked about their mutations. The young woman he was barely six years older than who was also secretly a mutant just like them.
And though it was hard to forget the way the bed slid across the room to slam into the man trying to run for help.. not for them but for Striker it was those green eyes, the crinkling of her nose when she smiled and that gorgeous copper hair that remained tucked in his mind.
Four years later and she was still stunning.
Four years later and they were in her hotel room lips locked in some heated battle that he wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.
Lili’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging softly as he lifted her, hands grasping her thighs tight while he stumbled towards her bed. The fall into the sheets was not graceful in the slightest.
Hands wandered the expanse of thigh covered by tight denim with a groan, raising higher until one hand found her knee and the other her ass - and fuck what an ass she has. He groaned again into the kiss.
It didn’t take long before clothes began flying, before he got those tight jeans off and his mouth began watering at the sight of the woman beneath him.
Above him.
Kisses nipped down his throat and collarbone as she flipped them both, giving him a view he’d only dreamed of- it was infinitely better in reality.
There was no sweet teasings or foreplay as her hand grasped his cock, lining him beneath her entrance as she knelt over him. Alex couldn’t keep his hands off of her, couldn’t help that sharp smack he landed against her ass before moving up to massage her breasts, to pull her down for another kiss.
They moaned into the kiss as Lili sunk down, hips flush against his own. She started with slow circles, getting used to him, taking him in full. Then Alex’s hands grabbed her hips as he bent his knees up behind her and thrust upwards, another moan being taken from her.
Hips met in sharp, deep thrusts, them moving together at what felt like an ungodly pace.
“Fuck, Alex.” She whimpered as the powerful man flipped them once more. Her legs tucked around his waist, copper hair flung around her like a halo as she tilted her head back. Shit he felt so good, fucked her so good. She whined out his name again as he nipped at her jaw the same way Lili had done to him.
“Lili.” He grunted in her ear. “Come on baby first one of the night yeah- good girl.”
Her core tightened, a twisted feeling in her chest both making her feel concerned and far too lightheaded to care as something crumbled to nothing beside them- matter manipulation really was a bitch.
“Alex.” She bucked up, white hot pleasure seizing her.
Holy shit she had never cum so fast before. It had been barely fifteen minutes since they entered the apartment. Fucking hell Alex was a God.
With a final thrust from Alex he followed suit, and both their chests heaving he fell forward onto her- rolling to the side soon after.
“Holy fuck.” Liliana said finally, head rolling to the side to look up at the energy converting mutant.
“Good?”
“I’ve never cum… so fast wow.” Alex just chuckled into her hair. “But… you said first of the night?”
“Ah. We don’t have to go again Lili…”
She snorted and shuffled down the bed, kissing his chest, his stomach, his abdomen as she went. He groaned as she settled between his legs.
“Oh I very much want to go again.”
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𝔻𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 - Tengen x OC!Kiana
Authors Note: This is an old drabble, because apparently Kiana loves pegging men way taller than her.
TW: Minors Do Not Interact. Pegging. OC x Tengen. Word Count: 841
The sight of his flushed skin, smooth and unblemished, took permanent residence in Kiana’s mind as she sat on her knees above him, each of her hands spreading his legs ever so gently as she looked down into those gorgeous wine-colored irises, unable to stop gazing into them because of how they captivated her mind and body alike. They leave her with no words of how stunning they actually were, and her mind is lost in the trenches of his seductive gaze. Kiana tucks her pillowy bottom lip between her teeth, and leans forward, each of her hands coming up to his face to trace delicately over his Godly features, her thumbs adorning the corner of his breathtaking lips - the same lips that wrapped around her precious pearl and sent her careening over the edge of pleasure and splashing into a pool of riveting pleasure. A smirk teases the corner of her lips, her fingertips blazing like the summer sun along the sides of his neck, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake.Lavender, Galactic eyes filled with the promise of pleasure look over his bodily features. His satin silver hair, the bone structure of his androgynous face, his thick, gorgeous eyelashes and the way they slanted upward so elegantly. His face bare of expression, holding a bout of seriousness in them as he continues to stare at her domineeringly with both his hands resting behind his head. The tension building between the two was so tangible - unbreakable, even. Each of Kiana's digits trace along his broad, defined chest grazing tenderly over his pert nipples and gauging his reaction.It was obvious he wasn’t as sensitive as she was in that aspect, but the subtle thrum in his chest motivates her to do it more. She takes her nails, pulling them along his torso and abdominals relishing the hardness of it all. The man truly was built like an Adonis, and she wanted nothing more than to bring him pleasure the same way he did for her. After memorizing his body with her hands, she lifts them to his head, gently pushing back Tengen’s hair and leaning in closer with a smile.“Sweetie, you know you can’t look at me like that… You're making me nervous.” She whispers softly, her voice cracking a bit between each word. The sound of his soft chuckle leaving his chest and the enamoring feeling of his hands coming around to palm her face makes her melt into his touch further. Her nose brushes against his as she leans down, and the feeling on his lips on hers brings an involuntary smile to her face. “I love you…” She mumbles, kissing him back fervently for several minutes before pulling back with a smile, trilling happily at the soft, deep toned ‘I love you more’ that leaves his lips.
Kiana’s hand comes down to Tengen’s length, gently wrapping her warmed fingers around his shaft as the pad of her thumb presses slightly against the space right under the tip of his bulbous head. Silken lips coast along Tengen’s cheek, along the curve of his neck and her tongue dragging down to his navel - kissing once, twice, three times to hear that precious groan of his. Her thumb swirls in small tantalizing circles, using the precum leaking from his flushed tip to wet her thumb before pushing a pair of cushioned lips around it.
She does the same that he did to her, suckles softly like a kitten on a teat, looking for milk. Her tongue rolls and licks every inch of him, her hand working his shaft up and down at a teasing pace. She pauses on the stimulus and she takes the bottle of lube resting on the nightstand next to her, then applies a generous amount to Tengen’s tight hole. She reaches back down, pressing her thumb against his sensitive spot again all while slipping her fingers into him. The sigh from his chest sparks intrigue, she adds another finger and pumps at a steady pace, pushing in and up, down and back while continuing to stimulate his shaft. “Be a good boy and let me hear your voice.” She teases, holding her hand around his shaft a little tighter and pumping a bit faster, her eyes glued on him as she watches Tengen’s chest rise and fall. The soft, muffled ‘Fuck’ grants him another finger. His stifled sounds of pleasure begin filling the air; music to her ears. She thrived off this feeling. The sound of his voice, the vulnerability, and that look in his eyes. The way he turned into the pillow with his eyes half lidded, biting the fabric as she pleased him had her anxious for more. How could she not be with the way his pleasure dripped from his tip and covered his stomach. Kiana smirks, then looks at Tengen with his own signature shit-eating grin, removing her fingers and lines up the seven inch strap on to his stretched out hole. “Oh, honey… We’re just getting started.”
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#kny oc#demon slayer oc#kny rp#black!oc#oc!kiana#tengen x oc#kny tengen#demon slayer tengen#tengen uzui#tengen#demon slayer uzui#kny uzui#uzui#demisexual#demonslayer oc#black kny#foryou#for you#fyp#tumblr fyp#fypage
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Make it up to me later (I love you)
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Summary: 4 times Percy ditched Annabeth for missions and she didn't know why, and 1 time he didn't. Angst and fluff and a lot of percabeth. AU, where Percy is a special forces agent and Annabeth is a doctor. Rated T for mentions of death and mild swearing.
Author's Note: Credits go to @redlion8123 for letting me use their headcanon while writing this fic. The idea is theirs and I am so thankful to them for letting me use it. I let myself go wild with this one, and as this is my first 4+1 fic, I hope you all like it. :D As always, I will be immensely grateful for all those who take the time to read this. Reviews will be much appreciated, and I always welcome constructive criticism.
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I
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"He's coding," Annabeth stated plainly, her voice tight as years of training set into place, and she handed over her scalpel to the attending nurse, starting on chest compressions.
Thirty seconds in and she knew it was of no use.
"Charge to 150," she barked as the nurse brought over the defibrillator paddles. "Clear!"
She watched the monitor burst into activity and then die down again.
"Push one of epi!" she commanded. "Resume chest compressions."
Inside, a thin veil of panic was taking over her chest. This man couldn't die, she thought to herself. She'd known Henry for far too long, attended his wedding, been in the room when his daughter was born. She couldn't afford to lose him.
"Charge to 200," she said, peering intently at the chest monitor. A minute had already passed. With his condition, a minute was too long to last.
She waited with bated breath as the shock passed through his body, and then sighed in relief as she saw the heart monitor changing.
"ROSC," she stated, her heart hammering in her chest. "I'll finish off the surgery, and then we'll move him to ICU for further monitoring."
Voices around her agreed in unison as she was yet again handed her ten-blade and forceps, as yet again, her fingers descended into the chest of a decade old friend.
Annabeth really needed a break.
…
She sighed as she walked through the halls of the hospital and reached her office, collapsing immediately on her sofa. Annabeth ran her hands through her hair, which over the years, had lost its shine and was falling apart in her hands.
She really needed to stop taking on back to back 36 hour shifts.
Annabeth groaned as her neck snapped painfully as she turned to lay on her side, her eyes settling on the wall hanging that her boyfriend had given to her on their anniversary. At just the right angle, the sunlight hit the ornament in such a way that the wall above became a mural of waves crashing against each other. It was mesmerising to watch, and on hard days, it had become her solace.
"Hey!" Annabeth turned, as Piper walked in, the familiar scent of lavenders wafting into her office. Annabeth smiled in welcome, as Piper settled in on her sofa. The latter peered in concern as she took in the resigned figure of her counterpart.
"How many hours has it been since you properly slept?"
"A couple of days at most." Annabeth grunted as she struggled to find a proper place to rest her neck in.
"Mother of Zeus, you've got to stop doing that!" Piper exclaimed, her light brown hair glinting in the sunlight, and appearing a gorgeous amber. Piper was stunning, and Annabeth had once questioned whether surgery was really the line for her instead of more fashion oriented professions. But then, Piper had put her in her place, and once she did, that was all.
"I know," Annabeth muttered, her eyes once again floating towards the waves on her ceiling. They were now a bright sea-green, and Annabeth smiled as she was reminded of the eyes of her beloved.
"You heading home?" she asked Piper, who nodded in response.
"Jason wants me back for something."
"Jason always wants you back for something."
"Yeah, well." Piper smiled fondly and Annabeth chuckled as she saw a dreamy expression settling in on her friend' s face. A year into their relationship, but Annabeth had never seen that expression on Piper for anybody else.
"You have that date too, don't you?" she fired back, and Annabeth blushed, as she looked away in embarrassment.
Piper cackled in response.
Truth be told, it was the only thing Annabeth had been looking forward to for weeks to come. Her boyfriend was an international aid worker, meaning he was more often than not, travelling to various places for his job. This meant they couldn't meet up as often as Annabeth would have liked, but it made no difference. In her thirty four years of life, he was the first person with whom Annabeth could truly let go of herself, and her job and all the tribulations it brought.
Now, three weeks later, they would finally be meeting again, and after hours and hours of surgery and stress, not that those never overlapped, those few hours she'd spend with him would make up for it.
"Few hours doing what, exactly?" Annabeth smiled, as Percy's voice resonated through her head, his crooked smile making home in her mind.
She wouldn't admit to herself, but she was completely and irrevocably in love with him.
"What's it been, a few weeks?" Piper asked, after she'd finally calmed down and gathered herself.
"Hmm," Annabeth said, "Speaking of, I should really be going now. He'll be here any minute."
Piper smiled again, that same coy expression on her face, and Annabeth whacked her as she got up from the sofa. "You're not going to change?" she yelled, as Annabeth headed towards the door.
"I won't need to," she quipped as the door closed behind her.
Annabeth laughed softly as she heard the thud of a pillow against the door.
…
Where are you?
She typed, sighing as she felt a few drops of rain on her head.
Percy was never this late. And he'd never not replied to her texts before.
She heard the ring of her phone and her hands fumbled as her fingers swiped at the screen to accept the call.
"Percy?"
"Annabeth!" She jerked away as his voice boomed across the receiver. Annabeth glared at a passerby as she hurriedly walked over to a corner on the street, ignoring the now constant slew of rain over her.
"Percy?"
"Annabeth," his voice came through again, a note of urgency in it. "Annabeth, I'm so sorry I don't think I can make it. My flight's been redirected to Chicago, and I don't think I'll be on time for the date."
Annabeth felt her heart sinking, as she mustered up the voice to answer back. "You're already late!" she yelled back, and smiled sadly as she heard Percy laugh through the phone.
"I'll make it up to you!" he yelled. "I'm sorry, I have to go now!"
"It's okay!" she said, but the call had already ended. Annabeth looked at the phone screen, willing his name back. She couldn't help it, but she felt small pinpricks of tears at the back of her eyes.
She'd been looking forward to seeing him again.
"Annabeth!" she heard someone yell her name. Annabeth looked up to see Piper in a small Bentley, Jason by her side, both of them peering at her, through the rain, "What's wrong?"
"Percy couldn't make it." she replied, as she walked over to them. "Drop me home?"
"You never have to ask." Piper said gently, as Jason smiled warmly back at her, tipping his cap in greeting.
Annabeth smiled, her throat clogged, as she got into the back of his car.
Even the rain didn't seem to appease her today.
...
II
...
"So, its like a ball, but for doctors?" Percy quipped, one eyebrow raised, and Annabeth shoved him, laughing as he feigned injury.
"It's not a ball," she argued.
"And yet, you're still going?"
Annabeth chuckled incredulously, as the couple walked hand in hand across the streets of New York. Percy had picked her up to get doughnuts, and she'd gotten the plain glazed, while he'd settled for blueberry. Apparently, her choice was extremely basic, but Percy had sneaked in a few bites from her nonetheless.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed together.
"You know that fairytale that little children like to hear before going to bed?"
Annabeth looked back blankly.
"There's a movie too."
"What-"
"The one where the girl goes to a ball and there's a prince-"
"Cinderella?" she offered and Percy snapped his fingers, elated.
"That's the one!" he exclaimed and Annabeth laughed.
"This is absolutely not a Cinderella story," she argued back, shaking her head in exasperation. Around them, people sped across trying to reach their destination in the shortest amount of time possible. It was like a race against time, but Annabeth had by now, accepted that they'd always be on the losing side.
"Of course it is! There's a ball, and there's a prince, that's me," Percy pointed to him in all seriousness. "There's you-"
"This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous." She shook her head again and Percy put his head back as he laughed, letting go of Annabeth's hand and putting it across her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.
"You know I'm right."
"Absolutely not."
He made a face, and Annabeth poked him on his side, while he squirmed away. The couple walked hand in hand and they slowed down as they neared Annabeth's apartment, a small cosy set-up in a three story brownstone.
"You're sure you're coming?" she asked worriedly, and Percy turned around, taking her face in his hands.
"There'll be no prince without his Cinderella now, would it?" he said in mock seriousness, and Annabeth chuckled, shoving him gently.
She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, while he reciprocated, enveloping her in his warmth. Annabeth closed her eyes, enjoying a moment away from the chaos of New York City.
"I'm just saying, you don't have to come."
"But I will," she heard Percy say and sighed in content. "I promise."
October had arrived and in consequence, the leaves had started falling. New York changed colour, Annabeth had observed, unlike San Francisco, which seemed never changing. No, in New York, there was always something to be seen, and felt.
Right now, it seemed orange.
"I have to go," she muttered.
"Don't."
Annabeth smiled, then raised her face to look into his eyes. Percy bent forward, kissing her softly.
"Six pm. Sharp." she said sternly as she stepped away from him, and towards the door.
"Yes ma'am."
…
Three hours later, Annabeth walked towards her mirror, checking her reflection in it for the umpteenth time.
She was wearing a light blue dress that hugged her waist and went flowing down to her ankles. Her hair had been let down for once, and her eyelashes had been curled and painted as per Piper's instructions.
She didn't look like herself.
Annabeth fussed over her earrings, smoothing her hair down, as she debated upon tying it up in a bun just for the sake of it.
Who'd care?
Percy would, she thought to herself, then realising he actually wouldn't. Annabeth smiled, as she thought about him, his ever-ready tongue that had got him into more trouble than he could account for, his eyes which seemed to understand everything and everyone in the world, and his heart, that had made room for her in the same way hers had done for him.
Sunlight flickered in through the window in her bedroom, as Annabeth paced to and fro, waiting for Percy's call.
She'd called him twice, and he'd disconnected every time, and Annabeth was slowly getting worried.
Her phone pinged, and she unlocked it, scanning through Percy's new message.
I'm sorry
'What?', she thought to herself, and called Percy again.
This time, he picked up.
"What the hell, Percy?" she barked into the phone, sensing Percy wincing on the other end.
"Someone I know got into an accident," he explained hurriedly, but Annabeth snapped.
"What in the world are you talking about? What accident?"
"Uhh.." Percy stammered, "car accident. It's bad, and I'm so sorry -"
"Cut it out, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth sighed. "Do I need to go to the hospital? How bad is it, do I-"
"No, no," Percy denied, and Annabeth frowned as static came through the other end. "You don't need to do that. You just go to the party. You don't need to come, it's fine. It's okay."
"Percy - "
"I'm so sorry, Annabeth. I know I promised."
Annabeth bit her lip, stopping it from trembling. She ran her hands through her hair, messing up her little hairdo, as she resigned herself to the bed.
"It's fine," she said, more to convince herself. "It's okay."
"I'll make it up to you."
Annabeth nodded, feeling like a jerk for feeling like this, as static came though the call, and it disconnected. She blinked away rapid tears, not wanting to ruin her makeup.
She hadn't wanted to go to this party alone, but she'd make do.
Annabeth sighed, letting her hands fall down to her sides, composing herself for the upcoming slew of discomfort.
Cinderella would have to go alone, she quipped to herself, smiling sadly.
...
III
...
They'd fallen into an easy schedule after that. On the days he'd be in New York City, he'd come to pick up Annabeth at the hospital at the end of her shifts. He'd become popular among the nurses, having won them over by his quick wit and charm. Around the hospital, he'd started being known as Doctor Chase's new guy, something that Annabeth had secretly liked.
However, an incessant suspicion had settled itself in her head that something was up with him. With his untimely disappearances and excuses that didn't line up with each other, Annabeth had that feeling in the back of her mind that something was wrong.
Piper and her had chalked it up to her paranoia.
Today had been one of her worser days. She had lost two of her patients in a span of three hours from each other, and each time she had had to listen to the daunting sound of the heart monitor flatlining.
Ten years as a cardiothoracic surgeon, and she could still never get herself accustomed to that sound.
All doctors unanimously agreed that the worst thing about losing a patient was telling their family. There was nothing worse than to see their expectant faces as they approached them, and then seeing the light leave their eyes. Annabeth had once been on the receiving end of it, and till date, she could never decide which evil was better.
Worst of all, their faces always seemed to stay with her.
"Miss Charlton's mother, please," she asked the receptionist, Margot, as she reached the waiting room.
Margot pointed to a seat at the extreme right corner at the back of the hall. Annabeth sucked in a big breath, steeling her nerves as she entered the room.
Her heart hammered painfully as she saw the woman get up and run to her expectantly.
"Ma'am," she began softly, but Annabeth could already see that the woman had understood.
"No-"
"Ma'am, the moment I opened up her heart-"
"My baby," the woman wailed, clutching at her heart, as she staggered towards the bench beside them.
Annabeth looked to the ground, her chest feeling tighter by the second. She didn't even think she knew the mother's name. Annabeth had always addressed her as Mrs. Charlton. Or Evelyn's mother.
Curse the Gods.
It was protocol that the doctor couldn't leave until they had informed the guardian about the happenings in the O.R.
After all, it was their ward the doctor had been operating on. It was their ward the doctor had killed. Annabeth had killed.
She sucked in a breath, blinking back tears as she approached Mrs. Charlton again. Annabeth had no right. No right to feel what she felt, when a mother in front of her had lost her baby.
Mrs Charlton howled in her grief.
"Ma'am," she said, and she stepped back as the woman turned on her, her eyes blazing, clouded with grief and anger, as she walked over to Annabeth and slapped her across the cheek.
Annabeth gasped, her hands flying towards her cheek, as she staggered away from the woman in front of her.
"You killed her," she snarled.
"I," Annabeth stammered. "I," she said, her voice breaking.
She tried to explain, but then turned and ran.
…
Outside, she took her phone out, ignoring the looks that she was receiving, as she dialled Percy's number, hoping to Zeus he'd pick up.
Still sobbing, she slipped into an empty on-call room, locking it shut as she sank to the floor, her legs trembling, the emotions of the day catching up to her.
As the call disconnected, she frantically dialled his number again.
"Hey, Annabeth," she heard his voice, and scrambled to put the receiver close to her ear. "I'm sorry, can I call you-"
"Percy," she sobbed, completely breaking apart, as she tried desperately to get herself under control. She'd killed that girl, and that was all she could think about.
"Annabeth?" Percy's voice turned frantic. "Annabeth? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?"
"No, no, no," she shook her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she blubbered. Somebody was yelling behind Percy, yelling at someone, at him? Annabeth heaved in a breath, as she fumbled to reduce the call volume.
"Hey, hey," Percy said. "What's wrong? Where are you?" His voice seemed urgent, and the person behind him was still yelling, making things inside her head seem even more deafening.
The voice in her head was mocking her for trying to find comfort in her boyfriend when she had just left a life destroyed, not a few metres away from her.
Annabeth stifled a sob, as she answered. "I'm at the hospital. I just…I just, had a bad day."
"Fuck, Annabeth," Percy said, her voice growing more frantic by the minute.
Annabeth jerked away from the phone as a weird static came up, followed by Percy yelling that he'd call later.
"No, wait," Annabeth cried, as the phone disconnected, "Wait!"
She screamed into her hand, pulling at her hair in frustration as she flung the phone away from her.
Tears leaked out, as the day's events flashed across her mind. The first patient, who'd been a John Doe, then Evelyn, Evelyn's mom, and now….and now Percy.
Annabeth heaved out a sob, as she finally rested her head against the door, her body slumping in defeat. She closed her eyes, and let herself be lost to the world.
Days later, Percy appeared at her door, enveloping her in his arms. With him, came an excuse and the sound of Annabeth's heart breaking.
...
IV
...
"Can I see the trauma entry records for last month?" Annabeth asked the nurse behind the counter. She had a slight idea her name was Olivia, but Annabeth had never met her before other than by word of mouth from the other nurses.
"May I know why, Doctor Chase?" the nurse(Olivia?) questioned, as she got up from her chair, rummaging under her desk for a second, before she got out a slim file, filled with patient records.
"I just," Annabeth hesitated, "I just want to check something."
Olivia nodded, handing her the file, and Annabeth flipped through it, looking for the records under July 15. A few broken bones, a heart attack, and yes, a car accident. For a second, Annabeth's hopes were lifted, a cruel irony, until she saw that the time of entry had been at 11 pm in the night.
She had called Percy in the evening.
Annabeth felt her heart sinking as she read through the contents of the patient record, eyes flickering back to the time of entry.
11:58 pm. Annabeth had talked to him that evening at 6:59. She knew because she had checked.
"Everything okay, Doctor Chase?" the nurse questioned, and Annabeth hurriedly blinked back tears as she closed the file, returning it back to her.
"Yeah," she managed to say, "everything's fine." She turned to go, before pausing and briefly turning back. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name - "
"Olivia. Olivia Hansley."
Annabeth smiled, nodding in thanks, then turned to go.
…
There had been no flight redirected to Chicago either. There hadn't been a flight in the first place.
Annabeth sat down heavily on her sofa, running her hands through her hair. He had bailed on her. Percy had bailed on her.
Already, a lump had set in on her throat, as she clenched and unclenched her fingers, trying to distract herself.
She had been cheated on once by her ex. Annabeth wouldn't be surprised if Percy had done that to her too.
She stifled a sob, raising her head as her eyes fell on the mural that he had given to her. Again, the waves seemed iridescent compared to her bland grey walls, but this time, unlike all the other times when it had managed to calm her, Annabeth felt enraged.
He had lied to her so many times. Disappointed her, left her waiting while he screwed some other girl.
But still, it was Percy.
And until a few hours ago, Annabeth had felt that she had known him. Known him just like he had known her. She had fallen in love with the boy with the green eyes and crooked smile. Who had shown up when she'd needed him Who'd brought her back from the broken shell of a person that she had once been.
He at least deserved a chance. And Annabeth hoped to all the gods of Olympus that she was wrong. For once.
She got up from her sofa, dialling the ever-familiar number on her phone. She heard it ring once….twice…..thrice, then heard Percy's voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
"I want to meet up," she declared, her voice assuming the one she adopted in the operating room, when she meant business and nothing else.
"Annabeth, what?" Percy's voice came through the other end, and again, she could hear the familiar sound of static, that she had gotten used to on calls with Percy.
"I want to meet up," she repeated.
"Annabeth, I don't think I'll be able to -"
"Why?" Annabeth demanded, anger coursing through her veins. "What could you have possibly going on today, on a Saturday, that you won't be able to meet me for a few hours?"
"Annabeth, I'm sorry - "
"I'm so sick of you apologising," she interrupted. "What, you have some flight that's been redirected to the Philippines now, or somebody's dying again? Is it some other girlfriend that I don't know-"
"Annabeth, just hear me out," Percy's voice reverberated through the speaker, but Annabeth could hurl her phone at the very mural he'd given her.
"What, Percy? What can you explain? Because I have waited for you for so many months, overlooked all of your excuses," her voice broke, but she went on, "hoping…praying that you weren't like all the other guys who had left me hanging."
"Annabeth-"
"But you ... .you have completely exhausted me," she finished, sinking down on the floor, back against the wall, a stray tear escaping down her cheek. She gulped, breathing in deeply through her nose, but the lump was still there, hurting her throat.
"Just give me a chance to explain," his voice came through the speaker, and Annabeth shut her eyes, willing the past few hours to just go away.
"Explain then. Right now. Explain to me why you've been lying to me for the past few months," she said into the phone, voice clogged with desperation.
"I…..I can't," his voice came through again, and Annabeth closed her eyes, finally letting her tears flow.
Percy went on. "Not right now. Just… just one day. Give me one day, and I'll tell you everything. Please."
The sun was setting as the last few rays came pouring into the room, lighting up a few select tiles on the floor. Annabeth stifled a cry, as she snapped back.
"Don't fucking call me again, Percy."
...
+1
...
I'll come. Jason will drop me.
Annabeth saw Piper's text, her fingers flying over the keypad.
Don't. I'm fine. I'll come over tomorrow.
Annabeth watched as the familiar three dots appeared on the screen, indicating she was typing again. Annabeth sighed, then typed back.
It's 3 am already. I just need some time alone.
The dots disappeared. Then a message popped up.
I'll be there first thing tomorrow.
Annabeth smiled sadly, then switched off the phone. Her phone screen flashed as the clock turned to three, and she sighed.
Outside, the night had taken on its darkest, the wind blowing against the window shutters, making the room inside deafening. The night felt like her, had become her, and Annabeth could barely do anything without being reminded of the hurt in her chest.
Try as she may, she couldn't shake it. Hadn't ever even met with this hurt before.
Annabeth had fucked up. After Luke, she had vowed to neve give her heart away to anybody ever again. But then Percy Jackson had appeared, and got under her skin. And try as she may, she hadn't been able to stop it.
Annabeth buried her head in her pillow, letting her tears soak into the linen.
Outside the storm raged on, unrelenting, unyielding.
How Dickensian indeed.
Then, the bell rang. Annabeth jerked up from the sofa, immediately reaching for her phone. Was it Piper? No, Piper had a key. She'd walk right in.
Annabeth crept closer to the door, her thumb just inches away from dialling 911. She'd seen reports of people being robbed at gunpoint by late night visitors. She'd even treated them in the ER.
The bell rang again, and Annabeth hyperventilated, furiously typing in the digits, hands trembling, when a voice came through.
"Annabeth, it's me!" the voice yelled through, and shestilled, her heart in her throat. "It's Percy, don't call the police!"
Annabeth frowned, phone away, as she slammed open the door, wincing at the onslaught of the wind against her face. She glared at Percy, who was heavily leaning on the wall beside her, hand on his side.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, eyes flashing, her back against the harsh drops of rain.
"Just hear me out, Annabeth, please," Percy begged, and for the first time in a few weeks, she looked into his eyes, really looked and saw, to her surprise the desperation in his face, an emotion that she had never before seen on him.
"Are you going to lie to me again?" she bit back, and Percy tilted his head, his eyes boring into hers.
"Just the truth," he replied. "Nothing else."
She glared at him, and then let the door open wide. Percy got up, shuffling forward, before his legs buckled. Annabeth rushed forward and caught him before his knees reached the ground.
"The fuck," she muttered. It was then, her eyes scanned over his body, noticing the gaping wound on his side. It was why he was leaning against her wall, and looking at it now, the blood had seeped into the wall as well. On top of that, he was soaking wet too.
"I'm fine," Percy muttered, looking at her expression, but Annabeth looped his hand around her neck, as she hauled him up. Percy grunted, but complied as they both shuffled into the house, Annabeth kicking the door shut in the process.
Once inside, she settled him on her sofa, before rushing into the kitchen, taking out the rubbing alcohol and the first aid kit. On second thought, she got up a few select pain meds as well, before sprinting back towards him.
"How the hell did this happen?" she demanded, as she cut open his shirt. Annabeth cursed internally, as she touched his cold skin, knowing it was because he had been in the rain for so long.
"I…" Percy hesitated.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow challengingly, as she examined the wound. In the light, she could see a few bruises forming on his face as well, and not for the first time, she wondered what he had been up to.
"Bullet graze," he muttered, and Annabeth smarted back.
"What?" she cried out. "What the fuck do you mean by a bullet graze?"
"I…"
"No, don't speak," she commanded. "Wait until I've patched you up."
Under the yellow light of her tungsten bulbs, Annabeth poured the rubbing alcohol on his wound, ignoring his wince, as she pulled out a cauterised needle and thread from the first aid box.
"I'm going to stitch you up, okay?" she said, gently swatching a generous amount of numbing cream on his wound.
Annabeth worked on the stitches, her fingers flying over the broken patch of skin in record-breaking speed, trained from years and years of practice and experience.
She noted briefly how he barely winced, and as she finished up, wrapping a roll of gauze around his abdomen, Annabeth noticed Percy's eyes on her, silent through the entire ordeal.
She handed him a towel instead and a pair of shorts that he had left in her house last time he had been there, which now that she thought about it, had been over six months ago.
The familiar burst of anger ignited in her veins again, as she turned away from him, giving him the space to change. She wrapped up the gauze and needle in a cellophane plastic, all the time being acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room. Annabeth disappeared into the kitchen, sucking in a few heaving breaths before going back into the room again.
Percy was now standing beside the sofa, waiting for her.
"Sit," she commanded, and Percy opened his mouth, as if to argue, but she wouldn't hear of it. "You'll rip the stitches."
He nodded, facing her as she leaned opposite to him, biding him to start.
"I lied." He said, hsi voice barely above a whisper, his voice hoarse as if he had been yelling for a long time.
Annabeth said nothing.
"I lied about my job. About what I do," he admitted. "I am not an international aid worker, or whatever the fuck I told you I was," he said, his eyes looking straight at hers.
"I work in the special forces," he ended, and Annabeth imperceptibly sucked in a breath. "I work for an organisation, named Olympus. They give me my missions, and I carry them out. They give me my orders, and I follow them."
Annabeth's eyes softened, and she dared to ask. "So, all the times you lied to me -"
"I was in Jakarta. Slovakia. Portugal. Venice," he finished. "While I'm working, I'm in multiple places at once. The only time I'm at one place is ... .is when I'm with you," Percy's voice broke, and he looked away.
Annabeth gulped, her mind running through all the scenarios where she'd sensed something wrong, where Percy had had to leave suddenly after some call in the middle of their date, the number of times he had not been able to meet her for something after being excited for the same for much longer than her. It was all falling in place for her.
"And," Annabeth paused. "And, what does this entail?"
Percy looked back at her. "I'm breaking enough protocols to tell you this anyway," he chuckled bitterly. "But, I….I have lied to you about everything I do. I have let you down, but," his voice broke, "I have never lied to you once about how I feel about you."
Annabeth felt a lump rising in her throat.
"When I met you," Percy said, his voice heavy, "you were this brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon I'd met in the ER, who'd looked at me once and deemed me too far gone for my own good. And I was. My life is full of people who I've killed in order to protect myself, who've died in my crossfire, and those who I've killed under orders."
Annabeth watched as a few tears streaked down his face, landing on his hands. She frowned, blinking back her own tears as they threatened to overcome her.
"I'm a murderer," he went on, and Annabeth winced. "I kill people for a living. But then you…you have shown me how different life could be from my own, and I've fallen in love with it. I've….I've fallen in love with you."
Percy looked up at her, and Annabeth gasped as their eyes met, both of them overcome with emotion. She had pushed this man to the edge, hoping he'd leave her, but he'd come back. He'd come back.
She stepped forward, hesitating, before Percy gently caught her hands, pulling her over his lap. Annabeth yelped, before rushing to get up. "Your wound -"
"I'll be fine," Percy interrupted, one hand slinging around her waist, holding her in place.
Annabeth let her hand rest on his cheek, wiping away the tear trails on his face, as she felt a light shudder pass through his body.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, letting a few of his tears escape again.
"You won't," Annabeth replied, letting her forehead rest on his. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance-"
"No," Percy shook his head. "You…you have done everything right. I…" he shut his eyes tightly., shaking his head again. "I quit."
"What?" Annabeth jerked back. "What do you mean?"
"I quit today after I got back from my mission. I've been wanting to for so many years now, and after last night, I….I just couldn't afford to lose you to do something that was about destroying everything around me and losing everything I'd ever loved. I can't. I can't keep doing this job, leading this life anymore."
"Percy," Annabeth whispered, her voice heavy with tears.
"Annabeth," he said back, cracking a smile.
"I love you," Annabeth settled on saying. She smiled, looking into the eyes of the man she loved. Yes, she could say that now. She loved him.
Percy's eyes shone with tears, as he raised his hand and cupped her cheek, raising himself just barely above the sofa to capture her lips in his. And unlike all the kisses they had shared before, this one was full of fervent passion, as the both of them clung to each other, sharing a mutual sense of need, brushing away tears and letting the midnight rain in.
"I love you," Percy whispered back.
Outside, the storm eased, as the rain found in itself the grace to die down into a drizzle. And as the soft pattering of the rain lulled into a wind that soothed away the lashes of the day. Annabeth drew back, eyes furrowed in question.
"So, your bullet graze is a -"
"Crossfire. Stray bullet," Percy accepted, wincing as he shuffled to get into a more comfortable position.
Annabeth nodded, before declaring. "I'm making an executive decision that you need to sleep."
Percy chuckled, complying as she helped him lie down on her sofa, getting up to go, before he pulled her back close to his chest, snuggling together, their warmth blending together to create one.
"I'm sorry I got blood on your coach," Percy muttered into Annabeth's hair, resting his head over hers.
"Make it up to me later," she smiled back.
"I'll do a lot more than that tomorrow," he replied, an evident smirk in his voice, and Annabeth laughed.
#percabeth#romance#fanfiction#percy jackson#angst#annabeth chase#pjo disney +#leah sava jeffries#walker scobell#alternate universe#percy jackson is a special forces agent#annabeth chase is a doctor#4+1#4 times Percy wasn't a good boyfriend and one time he was a fantastic one#modern setting#alternate universe au#alternate universe fic#headcanon#percy and annabeth#side character love#piper mclean#jason grace#percy is a fantastic boyfriend and we all know it#annabeth is stressed#pjo#rated T#6k words#hurt/comfort#whump writing#whumpblr
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Dream a Little (or Big) Dream of Me (18+)
Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington
Summary: Billy has a wet dream about Steve and wakes up just a little disappointed.
Warnings: 18+ smut: blowjobs, anal fingering, masturbation
Word Count: 1033
A/N: For my A3 square “Wet Dream” for @billyhargrovebingo. As always, a big homie smooch to @writer-in-theory for being the best.
Follow me on my main: @serenity-lattes
IF YOU CLICK “KEEP READING” YOU ARE ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YOU ARE 18 YEARS OLD OR ABOVE AND ARE AWARE OF THE CONTENT WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE.
It had been an ordinary day- wake up, eat breakfast, go to school, come home and do homework, workout, eat dinner, and go to bed. Nothing different happened that could trigger such a dream, yet here was Billy, writhing under the far too thin and scratchy blanket. Truth be told, had he jerked off in the shower like he normally did after dinner, he probably could have avoided this, but it was a bit too late for that now.
A hand pushed Billy so he was on his back before hovering over him. “You are the single most gorgeous thing,” they murmured, tipping his head down to kiss Billy hungrily, hand reaching down to slide his boxers off.
The chestnut hair that was styled perfectly should have been a dead giveaway, but Billy had always been in denial. He couldn’t possibly dream about him. He was an asshole. A shady one with too many secrets, at that. There’s no way in hell Billy could ever have that kind of dream, let alone about-
The person pulled back, using both hands to carefully pull Billy’s boxers down before tossing them aside carelessly. They settled between his legs, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck and chest. Just because, they sucked a love bite on the edge of his collarbone. “Seriously, were you hand crafted by the gods?” they murmured, hands caressing the dips and curves on Billy’s torso as they slowly got lower and lower. Once their face was level with Billy’s crotch, they looked up, all too familiar hazel eyes framed by stunning lashes peering up into his own.
Of course, it was Steve fucking Harrington. God damn it.
Steve took his cock in his hand and spit on it, pumping it slowly. “Knew you were gonna be thick,” he smirked, licking the tip, eyes boring into Billy’s as his cock sprung to life, “Had to only steal glances of it from the showers, but it’s even better when it’s hard.”
In the midst of it all, Billy’s own hand had slid underneath the covers and he began palming at himself, seeking relief from the dream that was haunting his mind and body.
Steve took Billy into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks a bit to provide the best sensation. Bobbing his head slowly at first, his other hand came up to trail over whatever he could reach, caressing Billy, cherishing him the way he deserved. He hummed around Billy’s cock, lapping up every drop of precum, and flickered his gaze upwards to watch Billy, cheeks red and eyes half-lidded.
In his bed, Billy wasn’t faring much better. His cheeks were just as red and his lower lip was pink and puffy from biting at it.
Steve moaned around Billy, winking at him as he sucked him off. He felt quite proud of the fact that Billy was this affected by him.
Or Billy wanted him to. But he’d never admit to that.
He gently massaged Billy’s balls before trailing his hand up to stroke what he couldn’t fit into his mouth. Pulling off of Billy a little, a trail of spit from his pink lips to Billy’s cock, “I want to hear you, don’t hold back on me now,” his voice was a little raspier than usual and he took Billy in his mouth again. This time, he doubled down and bobbed his head a little faster, his other hand running up Billy’s chest. Steve was a little greedy and used his free hand to brush his fingertips along Billy’s nipple, wanting to see the man writhe underneath him, become a mess.
All the moaning Billy was doing in his dream thankfully hadn’t translated over. He was breathing heavily or he let out the occasional grunt. Finally wrapping a hand around his cock, he began stroking in time with what Steve was doing in his dream.
Billy got himself somewhat together sitting up to take Steve's hand, leading it up to his mouth to suck on his fingers with that shit-eating grin he always seemed to wear. Hopefully he didn't have to say anything for Steve to get the hint of what he wanted, what would have his toes curling.
Watching Billy suck on his fingers was obscene and had Steve’s pupils blown more than a joint ever could. After a few moments, he took his hand back and gently circled a fingertip along Billy’s rim before slowly sliding a finger inside him. Billy was impossibly tight and looked incredible, lips parting as he let out a delicious moan.
It wasn’t fair, feeling this good in a dream when he couldn’t have it when he woke up. No, Steve dated perfect people like that little Nancy Wheeler chick. Billy wasn’t perfect. He had a messy, convoluted life and too much baggage for anyone to take on.
After giving Billy’s body enough time to adjust, he began to pump his finger in and out of Billy. It would be a little easier if they had lube, but that there was always next time. Billy's eyes pinched for only a second before he relaxed into the feeling of Steve's finger, this was so much better than anything he had done to himself in the last few months. Steve finally took Billy’s cock to the hilt and hollowed his cheeks again, using his tongue on the underside to give him any and every sensation possible.
He had never moaned quite this much during sex, but he was in such a state of euphoria as Steve treated him like he was a fucking god. His hand moved straight to his hair, and it was softer than he imagined, tugging at it, "Steve… S-Steve... fuck... cumming". He could barely fucking breathe, back arched his toes curled, moaning loudly as he came quicker than he had wanted.
Unfortunately when cum had covered his hand and stomach, Billy’s eyes snapped open. It was a dream. Steve Harrington touching him was a dream. Of course it was. Squeezing his eyes shut, he used his clean hand to push his curls off his now sweaty forehead.
“God fucking damn it,” he huffed, kicking the blanket off himself, needing to go clean up.
NSFW: Masterlist
SFW: Masterlist
Billy Hargrove Bingo Masterlist
#after dark#minors dni#stranger things#billy hargrove#steve harrington#harringrove#billy hargrove bingo#billy antis dni#billy hargrove x steve harrington#steve harrington x billy hargrove#stranger things smut#harringrove smut#harringrove fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#fanfic
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The Vampiress and the Dane: Part 1
Summary: Her presence plagued him for 30 years, but will he admit to both her and himself that he craves her? Or will his prejudice push her away for good?
Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Corvina
Word Count: 4,500
Rating: 18+, Minors DNI
TW: Sexual themes, blood, violence, older woman/younger man dynamic
Part 2
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Last Kingdom nor do I own any of the images used. I only own my OC, Corvina and her AI image.
Dividers by @arcielee and @saradika-graphics
He hated her. Absolutely despised her. Couldn’t stand the very sight of her. At least, that’s what he told himself every night when those irritating thoughts of her found their way to the forefront of his mind, his hand sliding beneath the waistband of his breeches to fist his cock, her name falling from his lips as he pictured her writhing in pleasure beneath him when he spilled himself in his hand.
The woman he both hated and craved for nearly three decades. No, not a woman. A vampire, a very old and powerful one at that. Corvina.
He hated her pale skin, as soft and beautiful as the snow of the lands of Norway where she was born. He couldn’t stand her perfect ruby red lips, so kissable but hiding those sharp pearly, white fangs of hers. He despised that long dark brown hair, the way it fell in soft waves down her back when she wore it loose and how it contrasted with her skin, making her look even more unnaturally stunning. The worst was her eyes. Those damn gorgeous and absolutely mesmerizing blood red eyes. He swore just one look was enough to cause any sane man to fall under her spell, the result of her vampiric compulsion.
But he’d be lying because he knew that wasn’t it. After thirty years of knowing Corvina, Sihtric knew it wasn’t magic she used to charm men like him. It was her gentle and caring nature, so unlike the others of her kind. It was the way she was always there for him and his friends, never with a harsh word or judgement. He was so used to being talked down to by Saxons and Danes alike, be it for his paganism or his status as Kjartan’s bastard. But not with her, never with her. No, her sweet voice and kind words always caused his cheeks to flush red and he hated it. She should be spiteful and cruel, like he had been taught all vampires are, but no. She had to go and be different, so caring and thoughtful and gentle. Sihtric had wanted to scream to the gods themselves that they were truly cruel to curse such an amazing woman to be an immortal beast, destined to live her life in the shadows.
He remembers the first time Uhtred had told Finan, Osferth and him about her. He was barely 20, a fresh faced warrior in his lord's service. It was 886 at the Battle of Beamfleot when Uhtred decided to attack the fortress in an attempt to free Aethelflaed from the clutches of Erik and Sigefrid. There wasn’t enough men to successfully storm the fortress and Uhtred knew it, so he said he called in a favor and everyone was thrilled for the aid. How was Sihtric supposed to know it would be the very being who would haunt his every waking thought and even dreams? He remembers seeing her walking into the camp the first night, how she seemed to appear from the shadows beyond the light of the campfire. He was startled by her sudden appearance, so speechless as she gave him that little knowing grin that he almost didn’t notice the predatory gleam in her unusual eyes. Uhtred had introduced Corvina to the others and Sihtric could only stutter out a half-assed greeting to her beautiful face, before she turned and started discussing how many men she brought and plans to get Uhtred to Aethelfaed. He remembers how stunning she looked in the heat of battle, cutting down her enemies with ruthless efficiency in that damned black armor looking every inch a warrior queen that he knew she was. His breeches felt tighter when he saw her covered in blood, her eyes glowing fiercely and fangs on full display when she dragged Sigefrid in front of Uhtred, tossing his body to the ground like he weighed nothing. The siege was a success, Aethelflaed and Erik eloping and leaving East Anglia behind to start their new life, thanks to the financial contributions of none other than Corvina. Finan and Osferth gave Sihtric a hard time afterwards, saying that he was acting like a fool in love. He vehemently denied their claims, saying he was just surprised a creature like her would help them and he worried for the price she would ask. She never asked for anything.
Then of course there was that whole situation with Skade and Bloodhair, the way that damned witch cursed his lord and friend. Uhtred’s health had been failing fast and they weren’t going to make it to Dunholm, so he made the choice to seek out Corvina for her help. Of course, she opened the doors to her castle and removed the curse, never once asking for payment for her aid. Sihtric had tried to offer her one of his armrings (after Uhtred told him to give it to her) and she simply smiled, saying she wouldn’t take anything and that she was happy to help a friend. That was the first time Sihtric snarled at her, deciding then and there that she must be a manipulative creature, because no one is that nice for no reason. He hated her and he hated that hurt look in her eyes after he yelled at her even more, but his pride wouldn’t let him apologize for his outburst. No, in his youthful ignorance and arrogance, he doubled down and simply glared at her. She was a vampire, a creature of the night. A beautiful monster. He went back to his wife later on, but Sidgeflaed was only a sorry reminder of who he really wanted. He remembers taking his wife from behind that first night back, the sight of her brown hair reminding him of Corvina. It’s no surprise when he said another woman’s name in his marriage bed that his wife would be angry, leaving him and taking the children with her. He truly loathed Corvina then, blaming her for his failed marriage because he refused to accept that he was well and truly in love with her.
When Uhtred failed to regain Bebbanburg from his estranged cousin, Wihtger in 910, the men fled to the safety of Corvina’s castle and Sihtric was practically seething in frustration. He hated that they came knocking on her door looking like kicked dogs and she just let them in with a sympathetic smile, telling them they were welcome to stay as long as they needed to. Uhtred had firmly told Sihtric to mind his manners, because they couldn’t afford to get tossed out now and if he snapped on Corvina again, they would really make the square. Sihtric had bit his tongue for most of their stay, seeing her move about the castle like a damned angel amongst men. She dressed in the varying styles of the world, but he remembers that Grecian gown the most of all. The fabric was a beautiful shade of purple, something he’s never seen even the wealthiest kings of this land wear. The fabric flowed over her soft curves, her hair pulled back and pinned with golden laurel leaves. She looked like a goddess and his mouth watered at the sight of her, sitting atop the throne as she held court for her undead minions. He hated her, he told himself as he hid inside an alcove and jerked himself off, imagining burying his face between her thighs and devouring her on that very throne in front of everyone. He imagined she tasted like that ambrosia she spoke of from her time in Greece, all sweet and addicting. He felt burning shame when he came and made a mess of the wall and floor, knowing it was wrong to crave her but he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stand the way her very existence seemed to bring about powerful emotions, and he hated not feeling in control of himself. He snapped at Finan and Osferth when he had returned to them, their mocking smiles grating on his nerves. As per usual, Corvina just had to glide up to them at that moment with her signature alluring smile on her face, asking what was wrong. Sihtric sneered at her and made some snarky remark before storming off, never seeing the knowing look on her face.
That was nearly 8 years ago now. Today, they stand in the war camp just outside Bebbanburg planning an attack. Uhtred intends to win this time and of course, he just had to ask Corvina for help. Sihtric had been avoiding her like the plague he convinced himself she was, but he couldn’t dodge her forever. She walked into the command tent, carrying herself with an authority that took the breath right out of his lungs. She was wearing her usual black armor, her dark hair braided back and not a hair out of place. She cut Sihtric a look, her red eyes piercing into his soul for a moment before she smiled brightly at Uhtred, hugging him with a laugh and a joke about how old he had gotten. Even Finan and Osferth, his own battle brothers, had hugged this despicable creature like an old friend, even though that was exactly what she was. He thought she looked just as beautiful as the first time he saw her nearly 30 years ago, before bitterly remembering that she doesn’t age due to her vampirism. His lips pressed into a thin line and he simply nodded at her, determined not to piss both her and Uhtred off if his mouth got away from him. Plans were made for an attack the next morning, her men joining the shield wall alongside Uhtred’s forces. Even if he couldn’t stand the sight of her, Sihtric knew she was a formidable ally and warrior, commanding respect from her people and instilling fear in the hearts of her enemies.
Sihtric found her later that night, standing on the edge of the field beside the coastal fortress and staring out over the moonlight grass. He knew her eyes were better suited to the darkness and she always studied the battlefield before the fight, something she claimed she learned from her time with the Roman Legion. She stood there with her hands clasped loosely behind her back, her back straight and head held high.
“If you are here to sass me, Sihtric, you will find I am not in the mood,” Corvina spoke in a calm voice, looking over her shoulder at the warrior. She couldn’t deny he had grown into a handsome man, the top half of his dark hair braided and the rest hanging in curls that would make anyone jealous. He was sporting a goatee, and she wondered what it feel like against her cold skin. He looked damned good, the muscles of his arms flexing as he crossed his arms and stood next to her. She wanted to bite him and those arms, wondered if his blood tasted as good as he smelled. She saw his jaw tense before he took a breath, looking at her with a serious expression.
“No, I am not here to sass you Corvina. I wanted to make sure you understood the gravity of what is happening tomorrow. We aren’t just reclaiming Bebbanburg for Uhtred, we are fighting for the fate of Northumbria itself,” he said firmly, already aggravated with himself for his thoughts running wild.
Corvina sighed, turning to face Sihtric with an exasperated expression. “I know what we fight for and we will not lose. You have fought on the shield wall with me before, you have seen me fight and you know I am not in the habit of losing. But I can tell from your tense stance that is not the real reason you are here, is it?”
Sihtric nodded, his eyes finding Corvinas. He always found them captivating, the red hue switching from a bright red to a deep burgundy depending on her mood. “No, I came because I wanted to make sure you will keep your end of the bargain. No feeding on the soldiers before or after the battle, your men stay in control and don’t succumb to bloodlust in the middle of the fighting, and all those other promises you’ve made,’ he replied in a tense tone, grinding his teeth together as he looked away from the pretty little vampire that had haunted him for his entire life.
She rolled her eyes and looked away, placing her hands on her hips as she looked down and shook her head, her words coming out with a defeated tone as she spoke. “You already know I will uphold my word, Sihtric. We have this conversation every time I agree to fight with you lot. By the gods, I am tired of this.”
Corvina turned to look at Sihtric, licking her red lips and staring into his eyes with an intensity the Dane didn’t quite like. “What have I ever done to you to make you hate me so? I have been nothing but a good and kind friend to you all, never betraying any of you like so many others have, and yet you treat me with the same level of animosity you did when you were 20. By the Aesir, you are 51 years old now. What in the hell have I done to you for you to hold a grudge after all these years?”
He remained silent for a moment, considering her words carefully. He knew had been harsh towards her in the past, his youthful ignorance causing him to be suspicious of the supernatural. He was older now and he knew better. He knew she was a powerful and loyal ally, but he also knew she could be ruthless and unforgiving. Admittedly, he had taken her for granted without fully appreciating the nuances of her character. After a moment he spoke, avoiding her searching gaze. “I know that you have never betrayed us and I know that you have been a good ally. But the fact remains that you are a vampire, and for most people that is enough to inspire fear and loathing.” It was a cop out, and they both knew it. He couldn’t admit to her that he just wanted to be in her presence, finding it to be both soothing and resolute, like an anchor in the eye of the hurricane.
Corvina shook her head, looking up to the stars and taking a deep breath before responding. “That might be most people, but you are not most people. I asked why you specifically hate me. It’s been 30 gods damned years, Sihtric. I have fought for you, taken hits for you and still it's not enough. I am owed an explanation at the least,” her words were firm, her tone indicating she wanted answers and she wanted them now.
Sihtric looked at her, his expression hardening as all his repressed emotions boiled over in the worst way possible. “Because you are a fucking vampire!” He exclaimed, his voice ringing out in the quiet of the night. “You drink blood for Thor’s sake! How can I trust someone like you?” He shook his head, trying to reign in his temper before spitting out. “You are a monster and I will never trust a creature like you.”
Hurt crossed Corvinas face for a split second before her own face hardened, her lips pressed into a thin line. He knew calling her monster was the one thing she hated, and he suddenly wished he could snatch the word back if it meant she wouldn’t look at him with such disdain.
“Goodnight, Sihtric,” she said in a harsh tone before suddenly turning on her heel and walking away with a stiff stride, determined not to let him see her cry. She may have been undead, but that didn’t mean she was completely heartless.
Sihtric watched Corvina retreat, feeling guilt and anger surge through him. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, but his emotions got the best of him and he started running at the mouth before he could stop himself. He started pacing, muttering under his breath trying to calm himself down. “Dammit. I need to apologize to her…but first, we have a battle to win.” He went back to his tent after several minutes of cursing himself for his actions, trying and failing to get some sleep before the battle tomorrow.
He woke early the next morning, preparing for the battle and checking on his men, making sure everything was in order. He didn’t see Corvina around the camp, but he forced himself to stay focused on the fight ahead. He needed to keep his head on right if he wanted to survive the day, but he thought to himself that Valhalla would be a preferable end after the way he acted last night.
By the time the sun starts rising over the horizon, everyone is in position on the battlefield. The two opposing forces face each other, shields up and swords in hand, the deep breath before the fighting breaks out seeming to slow time. The early morning rays shone across the field, a low fog hanging between Wihtger’s men and Uhtred’s. Corvina stands next to Sihtric, their shields locked tightly in formation as they wait with bated breath for Uhtred’s command. Despite the events of the previous night, they both have grim and determined expressions on their faces, stone cold focused on the enemy.
Once the signal was given, all hell broke loose. Wihtger’s men clashed hard with the wall, but the joint forces of Uhtred’s and Corvina’s armies were not so easily broken. The sounds of clashing metal and wood, along with the battle cries of the warriors filled the otherwise calm morning air. Once the wall finally broke, Sihtric and Corvina fought back to back, slicing through their foes with brutal efficiency. He smirked when he saw Corvina hit her stride, her supernatural speed and agility unmatched by the Scots and the rest of Wihtger’s men. He saw the moment they realized what she was, the fear in their eyes for the split second before she cut them down. He tried not to stare at her, his axe swinging through the air as he managed a fatal blow on his own enemy.
After a couple hours of fighting, Uhtred’s side had cut a swath through the usurpers' forces and Wihtger was engaged in a one on one battle with Uhtred. Sihtric and Corvina pick off a few stragglers, the rest scattering to the winds at the decisive loss only to be run down by Corvina’s vampire spawn before they reach the edge of the battlefield. She turned her back for just a second, slashing the throat of a still twitching man when a monster hunter snuck up behind Corvina. She realized what was happening just as the hunter brought a silver dagger up, driving it deep into her side. She cried out in agonizing pain, dropping her shield and bringing her sword down across the man's neck, his blood spraying across her face. She collapsed to the ground with the dagger protruding from her side, another hunter running up with an elder wood stake in his hands. Corvina hissed menacingly at him, her fangs elongated and eyes glowing dangerously as she struggled against the man.
The moment Sihtric heard Corvina cry out, he turned and his heart nearly stopped. He didn’t hesitate to charge forward, swinging his axe with precision and decapitating the hunter, pushing his body off Corvina before dropping his weapon and kneeling by her side. He quickly pulled the blade out of her side, knowing that her natural healing abilities will kick in now that the silver is removed. He tossed the blade off to the side before reaching down and scooping Corvina up into his strong arms, quickly carrying her out of harm's way. Her head lolled back as she lay in his arms, Sihtric only half aware that Uhtred stood victorious over his cousin's body as he half ran back to the camp. He heard her mumble his name and he pulled her closer, looking down at her quickly with a soft expression before turning towards where her tent was. Where she was normally so strong and independent, she now looked so vulnerable in his hold. He felt a whirlwind of emotions within him, but he pushed them aside and focused on getting her back to her tent.
“Shh, It’s okay. I’ve got you, Vina,” he whispered, ignoring anyone who tried to stop him. Once inside her tent, he moved to lay her on her bed and began removing her armor and clothes, wanting to get a good look at the wound.
She hissed in pain, feeling Sihtric remove her leather cuirass and pulling her ruined tunic up enough to expose the wound to his focused gaze. She tightly gripped the furs beneath her, her breathing heavy as Sihtric grabbed a bucket of water and clean rag to begin cleaning the blood away from the gash in her side.
“I need to feed, it’s the only way I will heal. I know you hate me for being a vampire, as you so kindly put it last night, but this is who I am, Sihtric,” she said through gritted teeth, her fangs glinting in the low light of the tent as she looked into his mismatched eyes. The hurt from him calling her the one thing she hated was still fresh in her mind, but she refused to stoop to his level even if she wanted to.
He looked at her, his expression softening when he saw how much pain she was in. He hated seeing her hurt and hated even more that she was right, she needed to drink blood if this wound was going to heal properly. That thought caused him to remember exactly what she was and his usual sneer found it’s way back to his face. “Fine, but don’t think for a second that I’m doing this because I like being your snack. You’re a dangerous creature and I hate having anything to do with vampires,” he growled, his jaw clenching as the image of her feeding from him sent his mind racing with less than innocent thoughts.
Corvina sighs exasperatedly and shakes her head, sitting up with a groan and a wince as she clutches her side. She gives Sihtric an expectant look, her tone questioning. “Oh, so you go from despising me for being a vampire to offering yourself up to be my breakfast? How generous of you, Sihtric. You told me last night that you didn’t trust me, so what the hell changed for you between then and now?”
He glared at her, his face flush with embarrassment and anger as she called him out. He knew he was being hypocritical, but he didn’t need Corvina telling him that. His frustration at the whole situation came out first, and he naturally lashed out at her. “Oh just shut up and feed from me already! You should just be acting like a predator, a monster like any other supernatural entity but you just have to talk to damn much.”
There it was again, that derogatory term. Corvina took a breath and stood up from her bed, speaking in a harsh voice that belayed her hurt. “Fuck you, Sihtric Kjartansson.” She slowly made her way to the entrance of her tent, determined to flag down one of her own people if it meant getting away from the most infuriating and oblivious asshole in all of Northumbria.
“Don’t you dare leave! You are injured and need to rest,” Sihtric shouted as he jumped to his feet, running up and grabbing Corvina’s arm by surprise, pulling her back towards him. His grip was firm, intended to keep her close to him and not to harm her. Not that he could anyway, seeing as how she had an impressive threshold for pain. His breath was hot on her ear as he whispered menacingly, the thought of her soft lips on another person causing jealousy to rear its ugly head within him. “If you think you can just go out there and find someone else to feed from…think again.”
Corvina growled back, turning and shoving Sihtric off her. Even injured, she was still stronger than a human and he stumbled backwards with the force she used against him. “Do not presume to touch me or give me any commands. I have put up with your unjust treatment of me for long enough. Your stubbornness and pride has cost you a friend this day. Enjoy your victory, Sihtric, and be gone from my tent when I return,” she snarled at him for the first time in their long friendship, letting the startled man see her righteous fury painted across her face. She knew she looked every inch of the ancient vampire she was, her fangs elongated and eyes glowing the brightest red Sihtric had ever seen. She closed her eyes and shook her head, muttering something under her breath about stubborn men and how they are the same in every age and land. She then turned on her heel and left her tent, leaving Sihtric behind with his scattered thoughts. He stood there staring as the flap of the tent blew in the soft early morning breeze and the sounds of people returning to camp filled his ears.
After the initial shock of seeing her lash out at him in that manner wore off, all Sihtric could think about was how his breeches suddenly felt a lot tighter and he hated everything about it. He groaned and ran a hand down his face, feeling both frustrated and aroused at the way everything went down. Frustrated at his own stubbornness and prejudice against vampires despite her best efforts to prove otherwise, and aroused at getting to see her in all her glory and have it directed at him. Despite himself, he thought she looked beyond magnificent and he finally understood what it was that had made her the vampire queen in that moment. After a few moments, he left her tent and walked out into the busy camp as the high from their win filled the air. He couldn’t help but envy the lucky person who she would feed on, wanting nothing more than to be in their shoes before the shame of thinking such thoughts came back to the forefront of his mind. As he made his way through the war camp and back to Uhtred’s side, his first thought was how he hoped he hadn’t pushed her completely away. His second? He wondered if he groveled enough at her feet if she would take pity on him and let him fall into her bed rather than someone else after the celebrations tonight.
Gods help him not muck this up, because he wasn’t sure he could handle another night of just him and his hand.
Taglist: for the Sihtric girlies @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @mrsarnasdelicious @bouncehousedemons @gemini-mama @whitedarkmoonflower @synindoodles
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kol mikaelson; black beauty.
“oh, what can i do? love is lost on you.”
it was pure elegance, like no one from the small town of mystic falls had ever known.
shining lamp posts lighting the path of the drive-way; horses and carriages providing moon-lit rides across town; the smell of roses in the air, from the- more than likely- million decorating the mansion. it was far from anything you could ever dream of, nothing like the plain existence you survived through now.
and you were taking advantage of every second.
from dress-shopping with caroline two weeks prior in the two over, to allowing bonnie and elena to cater to your hair and makeup- you were going all out. all of you deserved a night like tonight- a night where dancing outlasted death and champagne flowed rather than blood.
so, a big fluffy ball gown, pinned up hair, silky curls dangling down the nape of your neck, and ginormous jewelry adorned your frame. a frame used to running, used to being on edge. a frame battered and brushed with the last year of danger. not tonight.
you knew the originals weren’t completely friendly, but you also knew no one was in immediate danger. damon and stefan spent two weeks before the ball warning and lecturing all of you of the danger that came with attending. but, with every single one of your high school dances having been cancelled and/or crashed by some supernatural catastrophe for the past year, you let all anxiety about any similar situations roll off your shoulders.
you hoisted your dress by the skirt, allowing your sneakers to find their footing on the stone path of the drive-way. your other hand was tucked through caroline’s elbow crook. she was frowning, crows feet thick on her stressed-out expression.
“i mean we never get to do anything fun anymore! i’m sorry, but if any of these dodgy, slimey originals try anything tonight, i will make their lives even worse than they already are!” caroline glanced at you periodically through her speech, voice thick with annoyance, and somehow glee.
you giggled, “caroline, i think we’ll be okay. i mean, if they wanted to try anything, they know where all of us live. just try to relax. take a page out of my book and not care for once.”
caroline sighed heavily, shoulders falling back somewhat. “i guess you might be able to loosen me out with a few glasses of whatever, expensive-ass champagne these grandpa vampires have got.”
you laughed again, allowing her to drag you through the crowd of people trickling into the house. you lost hold of your dress and it swirled around your legs as it settled. you let go of caroline as your attention focused on the entryway- a set of huge double doors, propped open to let the night air blow through the house. the foyer was an open space, leading directly into the first landing of the house, two sets of curved stairs symmetrically framing the room.
your jaw was dropped in awe, eyes surely glinting with admiration and curiosity. you loved stunning architecture- and this house was gorgeous. you wanted to run it’s halls, glide your fingers along the edges, find it’s secret passages.
caroline snapped you back into reality when she hit your arm with her manicured hand. “oh, my god, look how creepy!”
you followed her line of vision to the top of the staircase where a few familiar, old, dangerous faces were watching over the entrances. elijah, stone-faced, klaus, mauling, and rebekah, prideful. three others stood beside them, three strangers to your memory.
but you knew they were apart of the originals dynasty, considering the way they held themselves, the way they owned every moment they were apart of. like this one.
you scanned their faces, hoping your heartbeat stayed silent. you didn’t want them to know they could put you on edge like they did. but, as your eyes landed on the final man, standing there so darkly, the rate of your blood picked up. it sped up more, running cold, as he met your gaze. he tilted his head towards you, eyes shining darkly down at you.
you quickly looked away, catching your breath. caroline, holding your forearm, felt your blood rushing through your veins more quickly. “are you okay?” she leaned in to whisper. “take your own advice. deep breath.”
her fingers pressed into your skin, and you let your eyes close for a moment. you took a deep, strong breath, into your diaphragm, and let it go. you calmed down.
“better?” she asked.
you nodded, “let’s get a drink.”
she quickly found a waiter, holding a serving tray so delicately in his hand, he had to be compelled. you thanked him with a warm smile as you took two crystal glasses from the golden tray.
bonnie refused to come, but you knew matt, elena, stefan, and damon were lingering somewhere in the shadows. you stood there yourself with caroline, watching the crowd gather on what could only be the dance floor. a real, live band, a string quartet, was the music for the evening. you swayed side to side, sipping at your champagne, watching them pluck carefully away at the strings in their instruments.
caroline downed her entire glass, unashamedly, and took another. she chugged it before tossing the glass in a plant beside her. you rolled your eyes at her, “just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can be trashy.”
she shrugged, “they almost killed my boyfriend. i think i have some leeway here.”
you scoffed out a chuckle, trying to remain moral though she was humorous. “do you wanna dance?”
caroline peered around the room, “i can persuade a couple handsome gentleman to escort us. at the risk of sounding like a manipulative bitch.”
you giggled again, “sure thing, caroline. go get ‘em!”
you playfully smacked her back, encouragement thag put a silly pep in her step. your fingers played with the flowers embroidered on the lace of your gown, swaying under your touch as you let your body move to the music.
“enjoying yourself, darling?”
a voice, beautifully sullen, spoke close to your left ear. you jumped to the side, champagne slopping out of the rim of your glass. you watched it splat against the waist of your dress, and you gasped.
you set the glass down on the white-clothed table before you, focus and fingers grasping at the wet stain on your very expensive, rented dress. “oh, my god! look what you did! i have to return this! and i’m not going to get my security deposit back! why would you sneak up on somebody like that? why not just say hello? god-!”
you turned to face him, ready to face the stupid boy who’d done this to you. but when your eyes met his dark brown ones, your words fell short. your heart rate sped up again, blood pulsing through your veins so hurriedly that your skin crawled. he smirked down at you, head tilting in curiously and superiority.
“nervous, darling?” he tongued that nickname so deliciously.
you shifted on your feet, holding the damaged part of your dress nervously. you couldn’t break his stare, though, locked in place though your adrenaline was high.
“could i replace that drink for you?” he stopped a waiter with a firm hand to their chest, though he refused to break contact with your eyes. the stranger plucked two drinks from the server and carefully, within the blink of an air, replaced it in your hand.
“i don’t think i’m allowed to talk to you,” you stuttered out, feeling a little foolish, and very nervous. “i have to go.”
you clutched the drink to your chest and took a few steps away from him, ready to find caroline. he reappeared in front of you, stopping your feet in their tracks.
“i can’t let you go without knowing your name,” he drew in closer, and your head involuntarily leaned back, allowing his gaze to tower over you. “besides, do you always listen to your supernatural babysitters?”
you took a deep breath, willing yourself to let go of this moment and move on. to let go of curiosity. but something pulled your name from your guts, slipping through your lips.
the stranger stooped, taking your ice cold fingers into his, strangely, warm ones. he pressed a thin kiss, a sweet kiss, to your hand. “well, that’s beautiful.”
he didn’t let go of your hand. instead, he tugged you closer. “care for a dance?”
you couldn’t say no. nothing in you willed your lips to form the simple word. you felt like you needed to be in this moment. so you simply let your chin drop in a short nod. he spun you around, pressing your back against his chest. his lips leaned down against your ear again, whispering to you and only you, “then, let’s dance.”
you found caroline again amongst the crowd. she was holding the ends of the ties of two very handsome men, obviously compelled from the vegetable looks on their faces. she stopped in her tracks when she saw you, being spun around like a delicate ballerina by the darkest original. her jaw dropped to the floor and she let go of her potential dance partners.
she went to step towards you, but elena came to her side. you saw her lips move, probably to question what she was staring at, but elena followed her like of vision.
you felt like you were being put on display for the entire town, for your friends. like you were a dolly being played with, being appreciated and flaunted by this stranger. he held your gaze directly within his own the entire time, that dark smirk upon his face.
when the song passed, you tugged back from him. you stumbled on your feet, knocking into a few patrons. the strangers face fell flat, worry lining his brows. you felt out of place, worried.
you felt a hand snatch your wrist, and you were pulled behind caroline’s back. the strangers smirk lifted back up his features, and he stood confidently against her.
“kol,” caroline spat at him, annoyed. “you do not get to go sleezing with the innocent human bystanders. and if you’re going to do it, i’d suggest not compelling a girl with a vampire and a witch for a best friend .”
the proclaimed kol stepped forward, flashing his eyes at caroline. “funny of you to assume i compelled her. she danced with me on her own accord.”
you locked your jaw, feeling slightly unsettled and uncomfortable. of course you’d be attracted to one of the oldest vampires in the world. and of course he’d be attracted to you. and of course he’d make your stomach twist with butterflies.
your eyes, downcast, lifted slightly when kol spoke your name, “am i correct, y/n? or did one of my brothers decide to prank me tonight, of all nights?”
you nodded slightly, turning your gaze to caroline. with crinkled eyebrows, cautious grip on her hand, you defended, “caroline, it’s not a big deal. it was just one dance. and it was better than being tripped on by whatever townie you had to compel.”
kol chortled at this, “you were really going to let your beautiful friend go to waste on some boy? oh, caroline. just because you’re desperate doesn’t mean darling is.”
that nickname again. it floated through your ears like a feather, tickling your nerves and racing your heart. lol looked at you deviously, because he could hear what he was doing to you. you met his eyes and the world seemed to pause, again. like you were the only two in an empty ballroom, the music playing just for you to be held close and to dance. there was something there. something euphoric and unsettling and ancient. like a prophecy coming true, a star shooting from the sky.
you’d asked bonnie about the reaches of the supernatural before. you had wondered if soulmates were real. if the greek gods had really scattered two souls, forcing them to sport across the world and time in search of their other half. if love at first sight were real. mostly because you were a dreamer of fairytales.
bonnie had laughed, had done a little research- though she teased- and told you: yes. there was such thing. that, yes, it had happened with katherine to stefan, with stefan and damon to elena. with elena to stefan.
though, now, it seemed as though the answer was too much.
you glanced back and forth between the two vampires, feeling the tension grow in your stomach and in the room. you knew caroline was fervently loyal. she would protect anyone she loved at any costs. so, despite the answers floating in the air, you spited yourself. spited your curiosity. elena gave you a downturned smile, a short nod. she knew what the catch 22 felt like.
“care,” you tugged at her hand, “cmon. don’t let this ruin the night, okay?”
kol, seemingly a rock, slouched a bit at your decision. he arched a brow in your direction, hands falling short at his sides.
caroline turned to you in relief. she let out a deep breath. “i know it’s fun to live on the wild side, y/n,” she started, beginning to lead the three of you away from the dance floor, “but he could seriously hurt you. i mean, yeah, he’s cute- but, god, even if he was your fricking soulmate, i would strongly advise against kol mikaelson.”
you listened half-heartedly, throwing a glance over your shoulder. he stood there, somewhat defeated. when you met his eyes again, that familiar smirk lifted his features. he dropped a wink as if to insinuate a later reunion.
you resigned to spending the night dancing with caroline and elena- even to slow songs. it was fun, despite the jealousy that you felt while you watched women swept off their feet by men. you tried to find him in faces in the crowd, but what you didn’t know, was that he was watching from the staircase.
bourbon, instead of champagne. an undone tie, hair slightly disheveled from the exasperated fingers run through it. he spent the night, alone. unlike him. he had felt it, too.
but he knew what you did. it was dangerous, for you. unlikely for him, to ever be allowed in your graces again. for the first time in his life, he would willingly put someone before him. he would put your life before whatever love was supposed to be promised by the forces of nature. he told himself that as he downed another glass.
“why are you wallowing, kol?” klaus sauntered up the marbled staircase, swirling his own crystal glass of whiskey.
kol tilted his head up towards his brother, “did you believe in them? those stories mother would tell us when we were little? those stories about the destinies the witches cast upon the world?”
klaus shrugged, dangling his arms over the ledge of the staircase. kol lifted his head as he noticed your movement. you were downing a shot with caroline and elena. caroline spun you by the wrist, your dress swirling around your calves. you looked like a princess.
“sometimes i do, just to get through the millenniums. but, there are other days when my own family betrays me, and i think, how could there be destiny when peoples choices ruin me everyday?” klaus spoke eloquently, in a saddened way.
kol’s eyes glinted at your appearance. “i don’t know. i know i’m not the most deserving of love. but, i wonder if there’s something to make this all worth it.”
klaus followed his brother’s eyes. he saw you, one of the token humans elena always swore to protect. he knew you were quiet, but stubborn. hell, last week you almost died because of your friends. klaus had offered you a way out, and you refused to leave their sides. he had admired that.
he smirked at his little brother, “has it happened, brother?”
kol met his eyes, “how would i know? is it a feeling? or have i been alone for so long that even the smallest look from a woman makes my skin crawl with heat?”
klaus chortled at the remark, “i would prefer it to be the latter, just so i could tease you. i could always ask my witch. god knows i don’t trust mother.”
“is there a spell?” kol furrowed his brows.
klaus shrugged, “there’s always a spell. and if it’s not true, then i’d say have fun tonight.”
klaus knew there was empathy in his brother, deep down inside. he watched wistfully, throughout the years, hoping the right person would eventually find kol within his darkest moments and pull him to the light. it had yet to happen, but if the properties witches grew in their gardens were true, then this could be it. but that empathy that came with kol’s fervent love could mean conflict- restless and denial that he would be that other half for an innocent human like her.
klaus called his witch, like he promised, and prompted her with the question. she laughed, a laugh similar to the one bonnie had given you.
“i don’t know why it’s so hard for you creatures to believe. that someone could be meant for you. out of all of it- the doppelgängers, hybrids, vampire-vampire hunters. you don’t believe in soulmates, klaus?” the witch laughed down the phone.
kol listened intently from his seat. klaus gave him the look, the annoyingly smart look. kol stood up, abandoning his glass on the seat. he tried to find you in the crowd, beside elena and caroline, but you were gone.
the witch said one final thing, “the only downfall is- it really is just one person. we should all so be lucky that that person is alive at the same time as us. or that we’ll ever even meet them. if you find them, and you let them go, you’ll crawl through life, searching and denying and ripping your soul out. it’s a blessing, but as everything we do- it can be a curse, too.”
klaus hung up the phone with a snide response of gratitude. he caught kol’s wrist in his fingers, urging him to meet his eye. when he did, klaus said, “if you want this, prepare to meet backlash. i don’t think any of them will be too happy with any of us.”
kol nodded. he went to step down the stairs and klaus gripped his wrist. “she’s human, kol. remember that, too. she’s just a human.”
kol hesitated, but tore down the steps. he had never felt so elated, so full of life and warmth. he needed to find you, to confirm this feeling. where would you go from there? who knew. but he needed to know you knew- so he could at least say he had met you.
he looked all through the crowded rooms, before moving to the second floor. he remembered the smell of your perfume, of the blood pumping fiercely through your chest. he focused on that scent, letting his eyelashes hit the tops of his cheeks.
he followed the trail coming from the south end of the house. he turned the corner to the hallway leading to where you were. you had found one of the many balconies in the house to get some fresh air. it was a loaded night. the wind blew ripples through your dress and hair, sending goosebumps down your spine. but, it felt so nice on your skin. you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath of roses.
“i’ll pay for the dress,” kol spoke directly behind you.
you jumped for the second time that night. with a hand pressed to your chest, you faced him. “can you please stop doing that? like, just say hello or something!”
kol laughed at your response, leaning up against the balcony doors. “i’m serious. i’ll pay for the dress, darling. i’ll even pay you to wear it every single day.”
you blushed, a strange feeling on your cold skin. you tilted your head down, but lifted your eyes to his own. he breath caught at the way the moonlight glinted in your doe eyes.
“i’m not supposed to talk to you,” you turned from him, pressing your palms onto the balcony ledge.
kol stepped closer to you, a few feet to your left, facing out to the grounds. “i heard about that. do you always do everything your friends tell you to do?”
“only when it concerns the supernatural,” your tongue was quick, sweetener.
kol stepped to the right, closer to you. “do you think i’m going to kill you?”
your heart skipped, but you weren’t afraid. you hadn’t been. you hesitated, but spoke with genuine honesty, “no.”
kol hummed in response, “then why is your heart beating out of your chest?”
you blushed again, pulling your arms around your body. “i don’t know. i’m not afraid of you.”
he took one final step to you, leaning his side against the balcony now. you still faced out, unwilling to allow him into your bubble. you weren’t afraid, just guarded.
“i believe you. no, it’s something else, isn’t it?”
your breath hitched as his fingers inched towards you. he pressed them into your forearm, sliding them around your arm, and gently turning you towards him. “look at me, darling.”
your eyes stared into his chest, at the black tie undone at his throat. you wondered how many people’s throat he’d torn out, and a shiver whispered down your spine. kol furrowed his brows, almost forgetting you were human, and it was cold out. he pulled his hand away and shrugged off his jacket.
you went to protest, but he lay it over your shoulders. “thank you.”
kol nodded firmly. “we can go inside. i think i deserve another dance.”
you shook your head, “caroline will interrupt again. we wouldn’t be able to talk.”
“oh, so you do want to talk to me?” he teased lightly.
you shrugged, “i think i do. i don’t know. i’m not sure. i’m not sure what i want.”
kol brushed his fingers across your cheek, tucked a single strand of hair behind your left ear. “it’s okay. take a deep breath. your heart is beating out of your chest.”
you let out a shaky laugh. “yeah, i don’t know why.”
kol sighed, “i do.”
you lifted your eyes to meet his. “you do?”
kol understood by the way you said this that you had lied. you were aware of the fate that had been sealed into this moment for the both of you.
he saw the worry swim in your eyes, the torn state of your consciousness. he felt sorry for both of you- but mostly for you. that this was what you were resigned to. one of the universe’s most dangerous, oldest vampires and a human. it was almost fiction.
“how about we dance? dancing doesn’t require any decisions. we can leave those for tomorrow, darling,” kol’s hands slowly wrapped around your waist, the other swiping down from your shoulder to your fingers. he cupped your hand in his own. you hesitantly lay your other hand on his shoulder.
and you let him sweep you away.
#kol mikaelson#kol mikaelson x reader#kol mikaelson x you#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#the originals#the vampire diares imagine#the vampire diaries
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Reveling in Richonne
#177: The Unstoppable Life (11x24)
Y’all, I can’t help it. I have got to revel in Richonne right quick. 😋 It hit me that we very much got a Richonne sequence at the end of the series finale and, as are the rules, if anything Richonne-related was recorded and released, I gots to analyze it. Even years later. The Richonne love never ends cuz they are the gift that keeps on giving. 💯
And boy were we blessed with Rick and Michonne’s first return to the franchise after years away. How absolutely perfect is it that this show ended on the two of them, Rick and Michonne’s impeccable unstoppable love, and their precious family! They’re the show’s heart and my heart, y’all.
There’s a lot to react to in their final moments of TWD so, finally, it’s time for more reveling. Because our lovely Richonne is back!! Won’t He Do It!
(Also I’m still extra years later when it comes to R&M so I thought I could do a brief reveling, especially since I’m rusty...but it still ended up being a 2-part dissertation 🫣🤗)
R&M’s return was every last thing and it was wonderful to see them be the final note of the series as they prepare to bless us ten times over in a spinoff show further dedicated to them and their love. Like this is legit what dreams are made of. 🤩
So to start, while I completely stopped watching TWD shortly after Michonne left, I returned to watch the series finale with hopes of one thing and one thing only - seeing the return of our king and queen.
And truly all it took was seeing them back on my screen for my brain to be consumed with this couple like old times. The hold they have on me lol. But how could you not adore the GOAT TV couple and this special love story that was incredible from beginning to “end.”
Just when it was looking like the finale was about to close with Daryl riding off to his spinoff, a single match was lit. 😏And y’all what a glorious match it was.
Finally, after years, we see him. Rick Grimes is back. And just the very first glimpse of his face had me rejoicing.
Rick’s face is lit by a fire as he looks down and writes fervently to someone. And learning who he’s writing to - it’s perfect and it only makes sense for Rick’s return to the show to be so focused on Michonne.
Then we see gorgeous Michonne also writing a letter by a fire.
And seeing both of them back, this was legit my reaction the second Michonne and Rick were on screen...
And I love that they both look goodT, with a capital T at the end. 🤩 Like they both age like fine wine, and I know Rick won’t know what to do with himself seeing Michonne’s stunning new look, and Michonne’s gonna love that her handsome man’s curls are back lol.
I also love the use of fire to tie Michonne and Rick’s final moments together. I’m sure there’s more eloquent symbolism to be drawn, but I just love the visual and the way it can feel like their actions (and their outfits) are still so in sync and aligned. They’re sharing this moment, even apart and in different time periods. And there’s so clearly a burning fire within them as well, as they continue to resolutely search and long for one another.
It also just reminded me of a time when they really were together by a fire in the s4 finale. How far we’ve come in their journey since then ☺️ and how wonderful it’ll be when they’re finally together again.
We start to hear bits and pieces of their letters, with Rick’s iconic voice beginning, “I think of the dead all the time,” as a montage plays of the many memorable characters throughout TWD. The first character shown is fittingly young Carl wearing the sheriff hat which is precious and emotional. 😭
Rick goes on to say he thinks about the living that he lost too, because he lost literally everyone when he was carted off on that helicopter. It’s so sad knowing it was all taken away from him so quickly without a single goodbye. But while he physically lost them, it’s clear they haven’t at all left his heart.
Then Michonne’s sweet voice reads her letter to Judith and RJ about how she tried to get back to them “again and again,” but she’s too far for the radio. I adore the many layers of Michonne, with her Mama Michonne side being one of my favorites, so I’m glad that was spotlighted in the finale.
Michonne then breaks my heart and warms it all at once when she states, “But I still got you and you got me. We’re connected. We’re still connected.” Y’all one thing about Danai, she never misses when it comes to perfectly delivering lines. Like sis makes the right choice every time in just how to capture the emotion behind the line.
As she speaks, we see sweet flashback moments between her, Judith, and RJ. And truly, what a testament to the power of Michonne that amid all the trauma and loss after losing Rick and Carl, she still gave her kids a good life filled with love and smiles.
The montage continues with more clips of past members of TF and one thing I noticed and appreciated is that the clips used for each character aren’t of them in action or being walker-slaying warriors, but rather quieter moments for each character, during times where the character might have most believed in hope and a future worth living. Such as Abraham looking at Maggie and Glenn’s sonogram.
I feel using these type of flashback scenes was a subtle way to further emphasize the show’s final message about life and the living prevailing. Even if some of them are not literally living, their legacy and impact lives on and it was the simple, familial, human moments of their life that they’re remembered by.
Rick says he thinks about them all everyday, which of course. Still the family man we know and love. I know some people were worried that after so many years Rick would be forced to move on or even start to have a foggy memory of his family, but that’s not Rick Grimes. I think even if Homeboy were to have literal amnesia he’d somehow still remember TF, and especially still remember and think about Michonne.
I love knowing that while he’s been away, he’s held those he loves so close to his heart nonstop. And as his letter will further confirm, he’s not just thought about them but been fueled to keep going by them, and most of all by Michonne.
Rick acknowledges how he thinks about what he learned from TF and how those in his life made him who he is, even more so than all the stuff he’s experienced while away. All these years away and still no one has been more impactful than the family he was taken from.
I love Michonne saying, “We’ll always be together. Even when we’re apart. We together are the strongest thing.” That sentiment is why she’s still so connected to Rick all this time.
And Michonne later shares the uplifting gospel truth, “We’re love. And love is endless. We are endless.” Amen.
I also love Rick acknowledging “all of our lives becoming one life,” because one; he still feels so one with his family and two; he and Michonne’s lives really did become one and then created a life in RJ. 🥹
So then we get to the best part of these flashbacks.
Because time-jump Rick finally looks up over the fire as if there’s one particular person he thinks of that most takes up his mind. One person whose memory he doesn’t just recall once or twice, but several times because he can’t stop thinking of her once he starts.
And we don’t have to guess who he’s thinking about, who’s fueling him, because four different flashbacks of Michonne then come on screen and y’all…perfection.
Very telling too that Rick and Michonne are the only ones to get four back to back flashbacks. It just so emphasizes their love, their importance, and them being the drive of this show and of each other’s lives.
I love that Rick also emphasizes, “We’re together. Pieces of a whole that just keep going for what we gave each other,” as we get Michonne flashbacks.
In Rick's mind, heart, and soul, he and Michonne are still together. They’re still one. Rick knows Michonne gave him the most valuable thing possible by giving him a love worth fighting for and a life worth living. That doesn’t die, regardless of distance.
I love the choice of Michonne flashbacks too. They’re all sweet and significant in their own way.
We first see Michonne arriving at the fence for her iconic entrance into Rick and TF’s life, which I still say is the most significant introduction between any two characters in TWD. It’s the unforgettable moment where R&M’s lives became intertwined and forever changed for the better.
Then it’s the always amazing s5 moment where Michonne places a comforting hand on Rick’s to ask if he’s ready to head into Alexandria for the first time. It’s pre-canon but still such a confirmation of how they’ve become partners that support, lean on, and encourage one another.
Then it’s Michonne smiling and looking like a glowing mother in s9 while painting with Judith during one of the most calm and domestic times she and Rick got to enjoy. It’s joyously casual moments like that one that I know Rick wanted to live out for years to come with his Grimes girls. Moments like that morning are why life was still so worth living.
And of course, there’s the special moment when Michonne and Rick first held hands over mints, where the rest was history and R&M never looked back nor held back their love for one another from then on.
Rick’s letter then just gets better and better y’all. Because then he starts to get specific. This is when it becomes clear this letter isn’t just to anyone in TF but to Michonne directly. 👌
He states, “One unstoppable life. You showed me that.”
And it’s just perfection and the utter truth. She really did show him that time and time again. It also reminds me of blessed 7x12 when Rick tells Michonne in the van how she led him. Rick always happily has taken to heart what Michonne says and shows him, and he still does here, miles and miles away This love story is something else, man. 🥹
I love that Rick and Michonne both believe so strongly that their resilient love is unstoppable and endless. It absolutely is.
After Michonne’s flashbacks, we see current-day Michonne finally looking up, also reflecting on the man that still has her whole heart.
And I especially love each of the four Rick flashbacks, especially one subtle s5 scene in particular that had me thrilled.
Fittingly, they pair Michonne and Rick’s first hand hold in 6x10 with their last hand hold in 9x03.
I love these hand holding visuals because it just illustrates how united they are and have always been. They’re always in it together, as both their letters reiterate.
We get Rick’s reaction to Michonne at the fence in s3, as he takes in the woman that will change his world and become the love of his life. It’ll forever be gold.
But then…y’all then!! The third Rick flashback is from season 5 where Rick is in his constable outfit and leaning against the wall. And y’all can I say why I love this!!
I immediately remembered this scene when I saw it return in the finale, and I knew this is when he’s staring at Michonne in her matching constable outfit.
This is a pre-canon moment but was still so clear that Rick had an attraction to his then-bestie, Michonne. And y’all this scene was during that one storyline-that-shall-not-be-named, so in my mind, using this scene in the final moments of TWD is just further confirmation that Michonne was always who Rick wanted. Always. 😌
And the final flashback of Rick, is him beaming up at Michonne during their romantic candle-lit dinner in the treasured 7x12 episode. The day he and her established they want the rest of their lives to be the two of them, “you and me.” And while a major curveball was thrown with Rick being taken, it’s clear they are still very much embarking on life the “you and me” way.
Seeing that whole Rick and Michonne sequence I was like ‘did we really just get a Richonne fan edit at the end of TWD?’ #Blessed. 🤭 I love that every single one of their flashback moments were Richonne-related. And like I noted earlier, a lot of these flashbacks are from when the characters were at some of their most alive, happy, hopeful, and human. So of course all Rick and Michonne’s flashback scenes were with each other.
The reading of the letters concludes with my favorite part, Rick saying “You gave me that.”
Y’all Rick is literally writing love letters to Michonne, telling her that she gave him life. 😭🥹🥰 Unstoppable life. #WeWon.
And his statement is truer than he even realizes. (I promise you my heart will soar to another dimension when Rick learns about and meets RJ, his son, and the life he created with Michonne, cementing their love is truly endless.)
Also I love how Rick is still trying to ensure that Michonne knows her impact. He did so right before he left in season 9 by thanking her for everything, and years later it’s still important to him that Michonne know all she’s given him. I love their never-ending love.
And y’all while that ends the little letter overlap part. There is still more to take in. So you know my extra self has to do a part 2. 😁
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Title: I Had Some Time (With You)
Author: @songliili
Artist: @keikakudom
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Warnings: Major Character Death
Tags: Inspired by The Last of Us, Episode: s01e03 Long Long Time (The Last of Us), The Last of Us Spoilers, (in a way), Croatoan Virus, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Survivalist Dean, Recluse Dean Winchester, (ex), Teacher Castiel, Dean is Bill, Cas is Frank, they both die, but they're, Old Dean Winchester, Old Castiel, it's basically, Euthanasia, for cas, Terminally Ill Castiel, Assisted Suicide, and dean follows him, Dean Winchester Dies By Suicide, Suicide by Overdose, briefly mentioned, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Smart Dean Winchester, Closeted Bisexual Dean Winchester, Openly Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Has Internalized Homophobia, Assisted Suicide, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel and Dean Winchester First Meet, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Blowjob, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester
Posting Date: September 6
Summary: It's 2005 when things go to hell. Well. They go to hell for everyone except Dean, ‘cause he was ready for it. Well. He was ready for the apocalypse, not for the gorgeous man who fell into his life, quite literally. OR a Destiel rewrite of Bill and Frank's love story as shown on HBO's 'The Las of Us episode 3: Long Long Time' that uses elements of both universes.
Keep reading for an short excerpt:
It’s late morning and Dean is working on one of the fire-throwing traps that lately has been malfunctioning, when the alarm blares in the bunker because one of the hole traps triggered it. Annoyed, because that means that he has to haul up an infected corpse and he’s really not in the mood, Dean picks his favorite rifle, and walks out of the bunker to kill the son of a bitch.
The incriminated trap is only a five minute walk on the North-East side of camp, and close to that gate as well. At least the asshole had the decency to not make Dean walk for too long out of his safe haven. He shuts off the electricity running through the fence and unlocks the gate to go outside, then locks it behind him.
Dean cocks the rifle and raises it to aim before getting to the hole’s edge, when he hears a desperate voice yelling “Wait! I’m not infected!”
Confused, Dean walks the remaining three steps to see who the intruder is.
To be fair, he doesn’t look infected, no. He just looks like the most beautiful man Dean has ever seen. Dark unruly hair with a little bit of gray at his temples and in his long beard, so he’s probably in his 40s or early 50s. Despite the shadow at the bottom of the hole, the man's blue eyes are shining, adorned by crow’s feet, and the laugh lines in his face are still visible under the beard. There’s also a small wrinkle on his forehead just between his eyes. The past three years surely have given the man multiple reasons to furrow.
After two seconds of stunned silence, Dean wears his angry mask, scowling at the stranger from behind the rifle’s viewfinder. It’s not because he wants to see the man’s eyes better, shut up.
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blood-soaked gown
*clears throat nervously* Welcome to this You're On Your Own, Kid-inspired oneshot! (@house-of-galathynius it's angst monster playtime)
word count: 2.5k
warnings: language, Arobynn, business talk, drunkenness, violence, blood, miscarriage, angst
enjoy (?)
I looked around in a blood-soaked gown
And I saw something they can't take away
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Remind me why exactly we're here again?" Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius whispered into her husband's ear, slipping him a covert little wink.
Rowan's lips twitched with the effort of keeping his polite expression in place. "The usual--workplace expectation, family expectation, you know the drill."
"Ah, the perils of being born into a disgustingly rich family," Aelin murmured, squeezing his arm. "First chance I get, though..."
"I'll be right beside you," her husband promised. "Gods, I might hate these damn parties worse than you."
She chuckled. "That's because you weren't brought up to schmooze, Ro."
"Poor me," he whispered, his voice dropping low. "Having to sip drinks and serve as arm candy for my gorgeous wife all night long."
"You've got a few more uses than that," she teased, winking.
His smirk set fire to the embers pooled low in her belly. "Allow me to show you just that, my love."
"After the dinner, buzzard," she reminded him, giggling softly at his frustrated grumble.
"Fine," he conceded. "But if this thing drags on...we're leaving."
Aelin grinned. "I'll make my excuses." Smoothing one hand down the fine, lustrous silk of her formal gown, the deep pine hue perfectly paired with her husband's eyes, she redirected Rowan over towards the beckoning circle of her parents and a few of their business associates.
"Aelin!" Evalin exclaimed warmly, welcoming her daughter into the cluster of elegantly dressed, fabulously rich business aficionados. "You look stunning, my dear."
"Thank you," Aelin smiled, painting a charming smile across her face despite the faint nausea lingering in the back of her throat and pit of her stomach.
Probably because Arobynn Hamel was there.
A longtime business associate of her parents', Arobynn had long been known to have near-infinite wealth and almost as much affinity for eyeing young women. Aelin had first been introduced to the red-haired man at a gala she'd attended with her parents when she was fifteen. She'd immediately internally recoiled from his oily leer and the way his hand lingered on hers a little too long. And each time she came to a business function, she grew a little more disgusted by the man.
But his apparently endless wealth was well tied into Ashryver-Galathynius Realty, so she gave Arobynn Hamel the same cool, professionally detached treatment she gave to every other business partner and client with whom she met.
"Congratulations, Ms. Galathynius," Arobynn purred, tipping his whiskey glass at her. Aelin's blood froze solid for a moment, until he continued. "Closing that deal with the Cortlands is a remarkable achievement."
Right. The Cortland deal. Aelin inclined her head, smiling modestly. "Well, after enough time, even the Cortlands realized how much of an asset to their business it would be to partner with us."
The Cortlands were an old-money family who'd long been established in the banking business, and they had been Aelin's clients for several months as they looked into purchasing a new property in the sleek new business district in South Orynth. The only catch? They had been trying their very best to swindle one of the company's associates into buying the property for a ridiculously low price, until Aelin stepped in and told Sam Cortland in very few words where he and his dynasty could shove their offer.
Nearly seven months after the Cortlands had approached AG Realty, Aelin had closed a deal on the property, shaking hands with Sam and restraining her triumphant smirk to a pleased smile. That had been a mere week or so ago, so of course the firm and its associates would be hearing about it.
"I'm sure the Cortlands will be a wonderful asset," she added, flicking a knowing glance at her parents.
Rhoe grinned. "My fearsome daughter."
She chuckled. "Hardly, Dad. People are just scared of a woman who knows what she's talking about."
"Quite the threat indeed," Arobynn offered, his gaze a few shades more than could be considered polite.
Aelin restrained herself from stepping on his foot with her stiletto heel as she made her excuses, noticing Elide beckoning her from a short distance away. "Thank you," she murmured to her friend, giving the petite brunette a quick hug.
"Anything to save you from that creep," Elide returned, flicking the blonde a knowing glance. "Having fun, Whitethorn?"
"Shut up," Rowan mumbled, taking a larger-than-necessary swallow of his drink.
Aelin chuckled, sliding her hand back around her husband's arm. "He always has the time of his life at these lovely little parties." She pecked a kiss onto his cheek. "Love, will you get me a drink?"
Thankful to have something to do besides pretend he could tolerate anybody except his wife and the few friends in the room, Rowan strolled over to the bar, pouring Aelin a glass of sparkling cider. Why she preferred to drink something nonalcoholic at these functions, he didn't entirely know.
Though he suspected it may have something to do with how tense she always was around Arobynn Hamel and his disgusting roving eye.
"Here you are, love."
"Thank you." She stole a quick kiss, making Elide flutter her lashes and coo.
"Aww, look at the lovebirds!"
"Quiet," Aelin laughed, "you and that hulking brute of yours are just as bad."
Elide snickered. "It's not my fault Lorcan's a big old softie."
"Bet that's not what you call him in bed," Aelin smirked.
Her friend's face went scarlet. "Aelin!" she whisper-shrieked, smacking the blonde's shoulder. "No!"
"Girls' night never lies," Aelin crooned.
"And what happens at girls' night stays at girls' night," Elide retorted.
"All right, all right." Aelin raised her drink in concession. "I won't say anything else about you and Salvaterre being all sappy." Out of the corner of her eye, she caught yet another senior business partner motioning to her, and sighed. "Once more unto the breach."
"Do you--"
She shook her head, squeezing Rowan's hand. "It's just Darrow and a few of his associates, you can stay here and keep Elide and Lorcan company."
"Thank the gods," Rowan mumbled.
She just chuckled, kissed his cheek, and strolled over to meet Darrow and the few men with him, greeting the man who'd been her business advisor for many years affectionately. "So you need some young ears, hmm?"
"I'm not a fossil yet," Darrow fake-sighed, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her. "We just wanted to congratulate you on the Cortland deal."
"Ah, don't make such a fuss about it," she smiled.
The older gentleman shook his head wryly. "Always downplaying your achievements, young one." He patted her shoulder. "Mrs. Whitethorn Galathynius here managed to rope the Cortlands themselves into a deal with AG Realty, can you believe it?"
"Impressive." Dorian Havilliard's dark brows shot up. "And you managed to do this in under two years?"
Aelin laughed quietly. She and the younger Havilliard--a brilliant civil defense attorney--had been friends since they were young. "Seven months, give or take a few days."
Dorian whistled. "Congratulations, then!" He raised his glass to her. "I argued a case for old Cortland several years ago, and let me tell you, the amount of demands that man had almost drove my partners insane."
"Oh, stop flattering me," she laughed, but raised her glass anyway. "Thank you, Dorian."
He winked. "Anything for the future of Orynth's commercial real estate."
She chatted with Dorian, Darrow, and a couple of others for a short while before Evalin came and stole her away to speak with the senior associates of AG Realty. Aelin caught Rowan's eye as she walked with her mother.
Need me? his raised eyebrow asked.
I'll be fine, she returned. Keep Lorcan from drinking too much, yeah?
Will do, Fireheart.
So Aelin sipped on her sparkling cider and chatted with the senior associates and her parents, discussing a few upcoming clients and whether or not they should accept some of the offers that poured in daily. Most notably, Arobynn Hamel was considering buying yet another property in the industrial district.
What that man wanted with so many warehouses, Aelin couldn't even begin to imagine.
"I don't see any reason why we shouldn't move forward with that deal," Rhoe mused. "He's always been a credible buyer, never misses payments or defaults on anything."
"What about the..." Evalin lowered her voice, keeping their conversation private. "What about that article?"
Two weeks ago, the Orynth Journal, which was admittedly a tabloid at best, had published an article that almost instantly went viral. In it, they claimed to have evidence linking Arobynn Hamel and his holdings in the industrial district to an international drug trafficking ring. Of course, since it was tabloid journalism, the reliability of this "evidence" had to be questioned, but still--was there any truth to it?
When privately questioned, Arobynn had--of course--denied all of it, maintaining his sleek professional exterior and, apparently, putting AG Realty enough at ease that they decided to dismiss the rumors as the workings of the tabloids. Aelin still had her suspicions, given that the man was a certified creep, but she deferred to her parents' judgment. She wouldn't raise too many questions, not unless some new information that cast true suspicion onto Arobynn came into light.
"We agreed that was all tabloid nonsense," Darrow reminded Evalin, though there was a hint of concern buried in his keen gaze.
"I know," Evalin sighed. "Very well, then. We can negotiate the deal with him when--"
"FUCK OFF!" The slurred yell completely shattered the elegant mood of the evening.
Horrified, everyone whirled around, finding Arobynn Hamel with a half-empty bottle of Scotch clutched in his hand, a glazed sheen of obvious drunkenness in his eyes and a sneer on his face.
His yell had been directed at Dorian, who held up his hands in a placating gesture. "No, Mr. Hamel, you misunderstand! I am not--I would never accuse you of anything illicit without proof!"
"Fuckin' lyin' lawyers," Arobynn growled, anger flaring in his posture.
Slowly, Dorian backed away from Arobynn, careful not to say anything lest he set off the drunk man's rage. Just as slowly, a few others approached Arobynn, gingerly offering to make him another drink, to get him some water, anything to defuse the situation.
"Don't fucking offer me water, you cock!" Arobynn snarled, whirling sharply about to rage at Darrow, who'd made that offer.
CRASH!
In his clumsy turnaround, Arobynn smashed the bottle of Scotch against the bar top, littering shards of broken glass atop the bar and leaving him with a broken bottle top clutched in his hand.
"Mr. Hamel--"
As if realizing he now held a weapon, Arobynn brandished the broken bottle at Darrow, all semblance of sanity drained out of his wild eyes. "Fuck off, Darrow."
"Arobynn." Aelin broke into the tense standoff, matching the drunk man's crazed look with her steel will. "Put down the bottle, gods dammit!"
"Don't tell me what to do, bitch," Arobynn snarled.
Aelin's glare intensified. "You want your new warehouse, don't you?"
A brief, charged moment of silence.
"Bitch," Arobynn hissed, but he released the bottle.
CRASH. It shattered all over the floor, shards splintering up into the air and clinking in discordant symphony against the polished marble flooring.
Aelin winced as something bumped into her stomach--probably just a stray elbow as everyone around Arobynn collectively rushed backwards, out of range of the glass. Behind her back, she gave the prearranged signal to her parents, clasping her fingers together.
Call security.
The building's security personnel were in the room only minutes later, swiftly and efficiently subduing Arobynn and escorting him out, most likely to spend a night in the loving embrace of the Orynth Police Department.
"Everyone all right?" Aelin asked, brushing her hands against her gown, feeling the oddest sticky-wet sensation. Huh. Probably liquor from the mess.
Nods and murmurs of "yes, I'm okay," rippled through the guests.
Until Dorian gasped sharply, his sapphire gaze trained on Aelin's stomach. "Fuck!"
"What?" She glanced down at her gown, wondering what the hell had gotten into her friend.
And gasping, the color draining from her face.
Apparently, it hadn't been an elbow bumping into her, but a stray shard of broken glass.
Her breath breaking, shuddering, Aelin touched her fingertips to the warmth spreading over her stomach and pulled them away slowly, almost unable to believe the dripping crimson stain. Blood, some faraway part of her brain realized. My blood.
And as her legs quavered and failed beneath her, Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius could only form one thought. Her eyes shot across the room to a lock onto the pine green gaze latched onto her, her heart constricting at the sheer depth of shock and pain etched into her husband's eyes.
“Rowan…”
The only thing she could think, the only thing keeping her rooted to the ground as she splayed one hand over her stomach, over the thick dark pool of blood welling there, the scarlet stain seeping into the fine silk of her evening gown.
“Rowan….I’m pregnant.”
And then everything went black.
~
Aelin blinked awake slowly, like she was rising up from a bath of molasses, her head fuzzy and disoriented. Slowly, the room around her came into focus--an IV coiling out of her arm, the steady beep of machines tracking her heart rate and pulse and oxygen level, the slightly uncomfortable bed, the cotton fabric against her skin, the firm warm pressure of Rowan's hand in hers.
She was in the hospital.
"Rowan," she croaked, her voice a bare rasp, turning her head to meet his broken gaze. "Ro..."
"You're going to be okay, Fireheart," he rasped, not bothering to try and mask the tears choking his face, his voice.
Ignoring the agony that sliced through her whole self, she gripped his hand and swung herself out of the bed, suddenly desperate, flattening her other hand atop her stomach. "Our baby, Rowan," she gasped.
Her husband's veneer of calmness cracked, splitting down the seams, and his shoulders heaved with a choked sob. "They--Aelin, they said you--miscarried." He could barely get the last words out.
"No." She shook her head, dropped his hand, wrapped her arms around her middle reactively, protectively. Her whole body screaming with the effort, with the pain, she took one searing step after another until she reached the mirror over the sink and stared into her pale, shell-shocked reflection.
Familiar heat bloomed at her stomach, her disoriented stumbling having torn her stitches, letting the deathly rose of her blood bloom across her abdomen. The blood seeped through the bandages, through the thin cotton hospital gown, soaking her hands with the heat of her own life.
Words failing her, Aelin stared at herself in the mirror, captivated and horrified by the broken, bleeding woman who stared back, a chasm of unspeakable pain yawning in her eyes.
And as the nurses who'd come rushing when Rowan pressed the call button caught her, murmuring soothing words into her ear, and injected something that slowed her pulse to drugged sleep into her IV drip, Aelin tilted her head back and released a scream that clawed up and out of her throat from the shattered coffin of her womb.
They can't take my child. The last thing she remembered thinking before the pull of the sedative claimed her.
They will never take my child.
~~~
A/N: if you thought bit at the end resembled Rhaenyra in HOTD no it didn't ;))
~~~
TAGS (please lmk if you want to be added/removed!)
@charlizeed
@cretaceous-therapod
@clea-nightingale
@autumnbabylon
@nerdperson524
@fireheartwhitethorn4ever
@morganofthewildfire
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#my writing#aelin galathynius#rowan whitethorn#rowaelin#angst#AAAANGST#yeah i'm sorry for this one#no i'm not#FREDERICK STOP WRITING MY TAGS#you're on your own kid#rowaelin au#rowan x aelin#rowaelin fanfic
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His light
Yandere!Mafia!MOC x FMC
Synopsis: One of the fishes in the pond of Cornell University was Lynn Wan. A hardworking girl attending her dream college, pursing a career she’s passionate in, and living the normal college life. Everything was going great as she was lucky to be perfect in all aspects - looks, grades, achievements and money. How ever stunning it may sound, this didn’t make her the most stunning fish of all - Cornell was full of people like her. But to the handsome William Huntley, she was THE star.
warning: tiny bit of stalking, soft yandere behaviour.
Note: this is my first story I’ve ever posted and I’m kinda proud of it. FYI the writings in bold apart from the titles are William’s Dialogues and internal dialogues.
———————————————————————
William’s POV
It was the first week of spring, semester 1. His 4th and last year. You were like a little innocent doe. He found himself observing you from a far for weeks, using his friends as an excuse to see you read, talk to your friends or do your assignments. Your magnetic beauty drew him in - silky black hair and brown almond eyes that goes so well with your quiet and neat character - but most of all, when your clear beautiful face turned into a bright smile that radiated the golden retriever energy when conversing with your friends. He wanted to see more of that. It was all so innocent until the yearn became stronger and turned him into something else. He fantasised about having all of you and he is done looking from the outside, he needs you to be by his side no matter what. You are going to be his.
As son of a crime syndicate leader, he was granted a right hand man to be by his side at all cost. Michael has always been the heir’s bodyguard and right hand man when he came of age. He is to give up his life for the young master if ever needed and always serve him, even if it’s looking up on a silly college girl.
He knows where you live, what state you’re from, who your parents are, the high school you went to, your hometown your perfect gpa, your social media, your part time job bartending in a pub that he owns and your little side hustles - modelling and OnlyFans. He smiles mischievously.
__________________________________________
Lynn’s POV
“Hi” said a husky voice that sounds like he’s directly in front of me. Right I am, he is indeed in front of me. William Huntley, son of Alexander Huntley - businessman and investor. Just a typical nepo-baby from a typical old money father. Quiet, brooding and mysterious, I already know where he’s going with the way he’s staring. His face is mocking me, like he knows something I don’t.
“Hi” I said anyway to avoid gossip about my anti-social tendencies.
“Writing an article for the media assignment?”
I look up at him, intrigued “you’re in media too?” Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
“My friend is” he lied. Most of his friends major in business related subjects. Working in media is below them.
Never mind.
We continue to sit in silence while I consciously endure his hard stare, writing an article on an Italian tradition.
“So what’s your article about” he says, eyes not moving. I’m so close to getting up and go, but you don’t do that here in Cornell otherwise you’ll regret it.
“I’m writing about the Carnevale, it’s just around the corner, so I’m writing this for travellers to prepare if they go to Italy at this time” I say as casually as I can, ignoring his intimidating stare. Seriously what does he want?
“Well what a surprise since my grandparents are throwing a Carnevale next Saturday. My grandmother is Italian”
I feign a surprised look. There was nothing new about rich people throwing parties.
“Oh really where from if you don’t mind?”
“Sicily”
Definitely in the Mafia.
“That place is gorgeous, I went there to visit archaeological sites, the food was the best” Can’t say the same about Italians.
He knows.You were 15 visiting Selinunte and Valley of the Temples with your mum who is an Archaeologist.
“It is isn’t it? Why don’t you come to our Carnevale? You can take notes there?”
I perk up instantly. It’s not exactly a real Carnevale but the Huntleys will sure get it close to one or maybe even better. It’ll be an advantage to really experience it. Professor Laughlin would see your effort. It’ll be so much better than that small community Carnevale you were planning on attending.
“Are you serious”
Your eyes were wide like a doe, hopeful and surprise. So cute.
“Mmhm, you just have to be my date”
So that’s why. You were glad it wasn’t something else. But you couldn’t help but ask why you and not some other eligible date.
“But why? couldn’t you ask anyone else?”
“They’re all taken. Plus you caught my eye. Unless you don’t want to I can-“
“No. I’ll go I’ll be your date”
He internally smirk. You were so easy.
“Right, be ready at 6pm Friday next week”
He got up ready to leave.
“Wait you said Saturday”
“Got to catch a flight first”
My brows furrow
“Where?”
“Sicily where else?”
My jaw drop before I could give it the permission. He was walking away
“What about my address don’t you need it? And my contacts?”
“I already got everything”
“What? How”
He smiles a little mischievously, slowly walking towards you. Staring you down. Now you were scared. Bending down to grasp your jaws. You can’t comprehend anything anymore.
“You don’t wanna know Doe. We Sicilians Mafias have our own ways.”
I look up at him in horror, eyes wide. My excitement vanished as I realise what he is. Is this a threat?
He walked away nonchalantly like he didn’t just introduce himself as a Mafia member. Leaving me alone in the library, dumdfounded that I get to experience an event that costs 3 weeks of my pay, and horrified that I’m going to go with him.
To be continued
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Quicksand
Fem Reader x Sir Crocodile
CW: Language, violence, blood, moral ambiguity, murder, sexual themes and situations, yandere, angst with a happy ending, a referenced instance of physical abuse. 18+ only
Chapter 1 - Table of Consent -
Chapter 12: Eyes
"I'm going to kill him." Crocodile growls, and you can feel the anger radiating off him.
"Please don't." You say quietly, pleadingly – almost desperately, and you can see him force himself to calm down. It wasn't that you didn't understand his reaction, but you didn't want to essentially be the trigger for a war between two Warlords.
Doflamingo came over to the table, a gorgeous young lady on his arm, dressed in a nice suit, with the giant feathery coat draped over his shoulders. As elegant and well-dressed as both he and his date looked, there was nothing else shared between them. Not that they needed to match, but the contrast struck you as your brain scrambled to take in the situation.
"Are you here to celebrate the stunning success of the auction as well, Croco-baby?" Doflamingo questions, finally turning away from Crocodile and looking at you. "And what a way to cele- oh." Doflamingo's eyes widen, but you're only sure of it because his whole face shows his shock for a second.
"Fufufu, Miss (Y/N)," the delight in Doflamingo's voice was nothing compared to the action that followed. He lowers his glasses and levels a steady gaze at you.
Your soul drops into your feet, and you can feel the very center of your being go cold. Doflamingo was handsome, almost hauntingly beautiful with his glasses lowered, and if you weren't acutely aware of who he was, you could imagine getting pulled into that gaze. As it was, you were more unsettled by how easily he let you see his eyes. Crocodile's words of warning from days before were repeating in your brain, but for the couple of seconds the entire interaction took, you couldn't look away.
"An unexpected turn of events, but what a delight it is to see you here as well." The pink-feathered Warlord nearly purrs.
"There's no delight to be found in your company, Doflamingo." Crocodile growls.
Doflamingo winks at you before returning his glasses to their proper place. "Haven't had a chance to relax yet, hey Croco?" He teases. "Don't be cruel, let us join you. A double date! Just imagine what the papers will say about this. Or better yet, those old fools of the W.G."
"Only if you behave." You say forcefully. You have no idea where your courage is coming from currently, but the lady on Doflamingo's arm seems incredibly relaxed, and for some reason that brings you comfort. You're not glaring at the man when you speak, but you've let your professional tone take over.
Crocodile's anger is shattered and replaced with nothing short of incredible disbelief. You can't blame him, frankly you've probably just been tossed so far into terrified at this point that you've flipped the scale and come back around to angry. Who the Warlords and Emperors are is something few people know, but the clashes between them is something everyone knows. They're considered the only natural disasters of the Grandline Metro, as the temperate island knows no other kind.
"Oh?" Doflamingo's gaze, still behind his glasses, turns to you.
"I worked hard for this experience," you say flatly, playing off the event as a perk of the job and not explicitly because of any relationship between you and Crocodile. "I think it would be within my rights to request that you simply leave, so I don't think my request is unacceptable."
All eyes were on you and never had your stomach been knit so tightly before. You look over at Crocodile and are relieved that the look on his face wasn't one of anger, or frustration. It was the near disinterested look of Sir Crocodile, calm and unshakable CEO of Rain Dinners.
After a second you manage to look up at Doflamingo, and are a little concerned to find that his usual smile has faded. He's not frowning, but he's not far from it.
"It seems my appetite is not what I thought it was," Doflamingo says after a moment. The growing scowl on his face is seeping into his tone. "Savor this more than your meal, Miss (Y/N)." He says quietly before turning and walking away.
Very slowly you let out a breath and try not to let your nerves get the better of you. Crocodile's steady gaze moves away from you only for a moment as he watches Doflamingo legitimately leave Baratie's. Once the mass of pink feathers are gone, he looks back at you.
"What did he say at the end?"
"Savor this more than your meal, Miss (Y/N)," you repeat. Your breath is coming out a little shakier as the adrenaline from before is trying to decide what to do.
"Then, I wouldn't panic, if I were you." Crocodile says gently.
"Eh? I angered him, didn't I?" You question. "I wasn't trying to, but I'm sure I did."
"You certainly did. However you did it, and however he took it, in the end he decided to let it go. For your sake, or mine, or his, I couldn't say." The smile, and tone, coming from Crocodile can only be described as pride, and you're not sure how you feel about that.
After a moment of silence Crocodile goes through the process of taking out a cigar and lighting it. The steady movements, and the familiar scent, help calm you down. You aren't considering starting to smoke yourself, but something grounding like that might be a good habit to pick up, especially if you were going to stay in this kind of life.
"Better?"
You nod. "Yes, thank you."
"Can you still eat?"
You let out another slow breath and smile. "If I can have a few moments and maybe a bit of wine, I believe so. You're more familiar with this than I am, can I leave ordering in your hands?"
The soft smile nearly makes your heart skip. "Of course, Miss (Y/N), it would be my pleasure."
The upside to a fancy dining experience is that it takes hours, and because it takes so long there's plenty of time between dishes to relax. After the first few minutes you could feel your muscles finally relaxing, and the small sips of wine helped. You didn't want to drink too quickly, especially since you were quite certain that the bottle of wine on the table was comparable to the cost of the necklace from the boutique.
You were certainly going to have to become more comfortable with not thinking about the costs of things, but for right now the distraction that it offered was welcome, and Crocodile was adept at assisting in distracting you. He prompted the waiter to speak on the food a little longer, asking questions that were more trivia than necessity, but his voice, and the steady cadence of easy conversation, helped you relax. After half a glass of wine and the reassurance that Doflamingo wasn't going to just pop back into the restaurant, you even asked a few questions of your own.
It might be your first time at a place like Baratie's, but Rain Dinners wasn't too far behind in terms of what it could offer as a dining experience. So, while you didn't have exacting knowledge, you did have enough of a foundation to join in. The act of you simply speaking seemed to delight the waiter, as you had been completely quiet for most of the meal.
By the time dessert had come around you were fully relaxed. You'd had a wonderful conversation with both the waiter and Crocodile as the evening had progressed, and you were pleasantly full without being stuffed. Two glasses of wine over a couple hours hadn't hurt anything either, while also not being enough to cause any issues, or lapses in judgement.
"All things considered," you admit after letting the dessert just melt in your mouth. "This is the best date I've ever been on."
"I find that statement concerns me, more than comforts me, Miss (Y/N)." Crocodile admits.
You smile, and there's maybe an edge to it. "Well, I wasn't bitten, the restaurant didn't catch on fire, there wasn't a rat trying to crawl up my leg, and you didn't spend the entire day talking about exceptionally detailed trivia concerning customized computer cooling systems, including, but not limited to, ones that utilized liquid nitrogen, with such fervor as to wonder why I had gone mute after two hours." You're finding an odd delight at the strained look on Crocodile's face. He's trying to remain neutral, but you can see something cracking at the edges of his expression.
"... What bit you?" He asks after a moment's pause.
"My date." You answer evenly. "I had to get stitches. It wasn't even the worst date I've had."
There's an audible, almost loud, clink of a fork against the plate and Crocodile is pinching the bridge of his nose. You almost wish you were teasing him, because now you feel a little guilty.
"You've never had a bad date?"
"I'm beginning to think so." He answers almost immediately.
"What's the worst date you ever had?" you prompt. "I'm honestly surprised we haven't talked about this before."
Crocodile sighs, you're obviously enjoying the distraction, but you can tell before he says anything that he's not keen on the topic.
"You don't have to-."
"She threw up on me." He says flatly, his brows furrowing.
"Oh. Well. That's a concise way to end an evening." You admit, trying very hard not to picture the scene.
"Indeed." He admits.
You reach out and grab his wine glass, filling his and then yours. You hand it back and hold your glass up for a toast.
"To us, then, and no more bad dates."
"To us," he agrees and you both drink.
With dinner completed, you return to the car. Crocodile opens the door for you, kissing your hand after you're seated, and then Mr. One opens the door for his boss, before sitting in the driver's seat. You can feel yourself squirming before your door's closed.
"Where would you like to end this evening, Miss (Y/N)?" Crocodile questions.
"Huh?"
"Would you be comfortable coming to my home? Or shall we return to the hotel?" He leans in and whispers against your neck. "I can't return you home just yet. I don't want your neighbors to hear the sounds you make for me."
Your face goes red as you turn to look at him. "H-hotel." You manage.
"May I ask why, Miss (Y/N)?"
"I... don't know that I want to be delayed by a tour."
Those predatory eyes hold your gaze for a moment before moving to your lips. "Then I won't allow you to be delayed by one."
"Mr. One," you manage to turn your head just a little. "I would like to go to Sir Crocodile's h-home, please."
"Understood."
. . . . . .
"Little desert flower, if you value those undergarments, I would recommend removing them." He leans down, whispering in your ear. "But do leave the dress on."
You face flushes hotly as you comply, tossing your lingerie off to the side as you slip it off from under your dress. The golden amber eyes that watch your every movement make your skin hot, and the pleased grin you catch glimpses of as your gaze moves to his face only add to it.
Suwani had been true to his word. You barely glimpsed the interior of his home, seeing enough only to know it was a massive mansion, before you found yourself in his bedroom. Even though it's where you found yourself right now, there was nothing to see but the man in front of you. The only detail you knew for certain was that there was a bed, and the faint, comfortable scent of cigars and warm sand.
His arms are around you when you're done, hands gripping you firmly as he leans down and devours your lips. The needy squeeze of your ass hikes the dress up, and your gasp of pleasure and surprise is all he needs as his tongue slips into your mouth. He consumes you and your moans, the heavy pressure and hot wet kisses stealing your breath and making your head spin.
He lifts you up without breaking embrace and walks over to the bed. Sitting down with you in his lap, legs on either side of his, his hand pulls at the dress until his warm fingers are against your thigh. The smooth glass prosthetic slides along your back, sending shivers through you at the cool touch. You lean back to break the kiss, gasping for air as his kisses shift to your neck and run along your collarbone.
"Suwani," you gasp, steadying yourself against him with your hands on his shoulders. "It feels like you're trying to eat me."
There's a low rumbled hum as his hands tighten against you for a second, before he grumbles into your chest. "Nothing but a picture since Friday, and then three days of dealing with that feathered bastard practically purring at you. I am beyond my limit, (Y/N)." There was no 'miss' at the beginning of your name, and the heat in his words dove into your core.
"Mm, and perhaps I will eat you," his voice rumbles as his golden amber eyes pull you into his gaze.
He leans back, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up to his face. It's easy to forget how strong he is until he does something like this, but you don't have much time to appreciate it as his mouth pushes into your slit. His fingers are laced between yours, and you hold onto them to steady yourself, gasping and squirming from the sudden rush of pleasure.
The embarrassment of sitting on his face is lost in the toe-curling pleasure of his lips and tongue teasing your clit.
His hands move yours behind your back, crossing your wrists and holding them in place with his prosthetic hand. You had been pinned down by him before, but this felt different, and the pleasure between your thighs spikes as you pull against the hand that holds you. His warm hand slides down the back of your thigh until he reaches the back of your knee, and then his fingernails dig in. Trailing sharp lines along the tender skin, the slight sting is almost lost in the pleasure, and you cry out his name as he sucks on your clit.
Your body goes taut as the orgasm pushes through you, a pleased hum from Crocodile against your sensitive body nearly causes spots to dance across your blurry vision. You twitch and tremble as he makes sure you ride out the pleasure, but there's no pause as you come down from your peak.
He doesn't stop. If anything, he seems to be getting more aggressive.
Your shaky legs aren't holding you up as each twitch and twist sends jolts through your body. Your shivering gasps of pleasure are turning into breathless, plaintive whimpers.
"S-Suwani I, hngh, I c-can't-!" Your voice is broken mid thought as a long hot finger pushes into your soaking folds.
The only indication he's even aware of your words is a deep pleased hum that sinks into you. His hand holding your wrists has leaned you forward a little, letting his finger push deeper into you.
Your arms twist against the unbreakable grip of his hand, and despite wanting a reprieve from the building pleasure, the struggle stirs something in your core. You feel a rush at being held in place that sends powerful lines of pleasure through your body.
"It's - haaa - not fair!" Your pout is practically dripping with pleasure, and any further words you had were lost as a second finger pushes into you.
The slight stretch was enough, added to everything else, to rush you over the edge again. Your toes and legs curled in one direction while your torso bent in the other, your body at odds with the pleasure, trapped as you were.
His name tumbles from your lips as your body tumbles into the bed. Your legs and arms feel like lead as you sink into the fluffy comforter. The air is cool against the thin layer of sweat clinging to you, and you're only slightly aware of Crocodile as he untangles himself from your legs.
He helps you turn onto your back, and the glint in his eyes reminds you of his namesake. The fact that you were trapped in his jaws until he saw fit to release you was not lost on your addled mind.
He licks the glistening signs of your pleasure from his lips as his eyes drink you in. You feel like you're being devoured again and can feel your own body stir as he removes his jacket, ascot, and shirt with practiced, deliberate movements. The motions are for your benefit, you're quite aware, and the tanned body looming over you is poised to strike again.
He leans down, kissing the fabric of the dress along your hips and stomach. Slowly, deeply, gently. Whether he's giving you a chance to recover, or savoring his next meal, you're not sure, but the soft kisses find your fingers. Warm lips soothe shaky arms and trail along your collarbone before nuzzling into your neck. You can feel the warmth of him around you, even as he's taking care to keep his weight off you.
"I am restraining myself," he murmurs into your neck.
"I know," you reply softly, finding strength in your arms enough to move them. You slide your hands over his bare shoulders and can feel yourself greedily wanting more.
There's a moment of quiet and he moves over you, reaching for something. You bite your lip, worried your actions will spur him on too strongly, but you take advantage of his position over you and undo his belt. You can feel his body freeze in place, and your face flush as you continue moving, undoing the button of his pants, and pulling the zipper down.
You aren't sure how far you mean to go, but you hear and see him take in a deep breath, and you can feel his control cracking.
"Don't... don't." You manage to say, feeling him shift. Your words get him to stay in place and you clarify. "Move up."
"...Up?" His voice has an edge, and you think it's best you can't see his face right now.
You swallow hard, running your hand lightly over the rock-hard erection straining against his underpants. "I... want to try to, um ... eat... you."
You can feel his entire body twitch, and after a second he moves, but not in the direction you had requested. His lips capture yours before you can pout or protest, and the moan that rumbles in his chest elicits a similar sound from you. His hands pull the straps of your dress down, the fabric bunching up as your breasts are exposed and your arms are held tightly against your sides.
You squeak into the kiss from the sensation, and he smiles as he leans back. Your face is hot and you're gasping for breath, and once again it's unfair that you're the only one so affected by all of this.
"Don't make that face," he says, leaning down and kissing your red cheeks. "You can have your fill another day, but right now there's a different part of you that I want to be devoured by, and I cannot wait any longer."
He pulls the skirt of your dress up, and while you can't see much from your current position, you can feel him pressing against you. He brings one of your legs up to his hips, rubbing his cock against your clit and causing you to suck in a breath, squirming under him before he begins to push deep inside you. Your hands grip your dress, as it's all you can reach with your arms pinned by the sleeves, and you bite your lip, trying to hold in the unexpected moan that tears through you.
"So close already?" He muses, hooking your leg over the crook of his arm. He reaches out and teases your nipple with one hand, while the thumb of his other hand rolls over your clit.
The pleasurable feeling makes you tremble and shiver, shifting against the hard flesh inside you as he teases you with his hands. You're going to cum again and a moment ago you weren't sure you had the energy to do so.
"S-suwani! I'm... haa, it's not fair, I'm c-c-hnnngh!!" Your body tenses and your back arches, pushing him deeper into you as you cum hard against him. Your face is red, and you can feel heat down into your shoulders, panting as you feel his gaze taking you in.
It's surprising that there's something more arousing about being almost clothed. You almost feel more exposed and vulnerable like this than you did your first night with him, when there was nothing between the two of you but air.
"Mm, I could listen to you for hours," His voice is smooth and deep, and it's practically dripping with desire.
He leans over you as he begins to move, kissing you deeply as slow movements and warm hands pry soft moans from you. Passion and desire push into you with the kiss, and your head begins to swim from the lack of air before he releases you.
He moves along your neck, licking and nipping at the tender flesh, pulling gasps and moans from you as his mouth teases your hard nipples. His hips never lose their pace, and you can feel pleasure pooling in your thighs again, your body shuddering against the building of pleasure.
"Forgive me, my love," Crocodile says in a voice far shakier than you expected.
He leans back, holding your hips, and begins to thrust into you in earnest. Before now his focus had been your pleasure, and while he wasn't hurting you by any stretch of the word, the motion was fast and deep, and it pushed air and sound from you without much mercy. You have nothing you can hold onto or steady yourself against, and you're almost too tired to manage it even if you could move more freely.
Your legs and toes curl around him as his heavy pace falters. You're too tired for your body to clench, but there's a satisfying fog of pleasure that overtakes you as you feel him twitch and finish inside you.
He leans down as he pulls out, and kisses you gently.
"Are you alright?"
You nod, breathing heavy still, as he turns you to your side, enough to release the clasp of the dress and undo the zipper, pulling it down and freeing your arms. Warm kisses falls on your shoulders and down your back as he pulls the dress off you, tossing it to the floor.
Your face is a deep red as you find your voice. "You called me... your love."
"I did."
"... Truly?"
"I did not say it lightly, (Y/N)." He assures you, laying down beside you, pulling your back to his chest gently. "I don't want you to feel ob-."
"Me too." You interrupt, feeling the blush in your face rush through your body. "I... knew it was hopeless after the first month, but I kept trying to manage my expectations. But the sound of a new message, every word we exchanged, I hadn't felt so comfortable before.
"And then... everything after that was just..." You're not sure the word to use, your mind still fuzzy from earlier.
The hum in Crocodile's chest warms your heart as his arms wrap around you.
You turn and look up at him. "I'm not delusional," you assert. "I know what it means that you're a Warlord. I might not know all the details, but I understand you're not, um, conventionally a good person. I want you to know I know that."
"I haven't thought you to be naïve at any point." He assures you.
"Good... then, please let me love you." You say, your eyes holding his gaze.
"As you wish, my love."
#Quicksand#Sir Crocodile#Crocodile x reader#crocodile x y/n#one piece smut#one piece fanfiction#modern au#reader insert#yandere
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