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callsign-magnolia · 2 years ago

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I Hope You Dance // Ch. 45

MATURE CONTENT (18+)

A/N: This is cross posted to my Wattpad, so if this seems familiar that is why!

TW: Mental abuse, emotional abuse, slight physical abuse, death and loss.

Description: When Caila meets Rooster, sparks fly. But, she's already married, to a man who she thought loved her, and won't let her go. Rooster will fight for her, he just has to convince Caila to fight for herself.

Word Count: 7.0k

Chapter 44 | Masterlist

The following day we dropped off the box of home movies with Maverick that way he could get the montage together. It was something I was very excited to see at the reception. “Oh dammit. I need more milk and flour for the bread.” I said as I sat in the passenger seat of the bronco. “We need dog food too before they turn on us.” I giggled knowing Dahlia would get in the trash, but Sadie would opt to chew on our fingers. “I hate going to the grocery store on a Saturday.” He chuckled as he took a left at the light. “I know you do.” He said as he lifted our intertwined fingers to place a kiss to the back of my palm. Once in the grocery store I was pouting as we walked down crowded aisle after crowded aisle. I was getting so frustrated I stood on the back of the buggy, leaning over the hand rail while Roster pushed me. “How about you grab the milk and I’ll go get both bags of dog food?” I nodded. It would get us out of here faster, then we could go home and curl up on the swing together. I grabbed the milk and made my way over to the dog food aisle.

As I approached I saw Rooster with two bags of dog food tossed over his left shoulder, back and arm muscles bulging. I bit my lip as I stared at him, a heat pooling in my belly at his display of strength. I was too preoccupied by how sexy he was to notice he was talking to somebody. “Hey, Mags! Come here!” I noticed he was turned, looking at me and ushering me over. As I approached, I faltered in my steps when I saw who he was talking to. Buck grinned at me almost menacingly, sending a shiver down my spine. I walked over, leaning over the buggy, using it as a barricade between us. “Magnolia. Feels like forever since we worked together.” I pursed my lips, nodding as I stood partially behind Rooster. “Glad to see you two are still together. I was a little worried what deployment would do to your relationship.” Buck said before hissing through his teeth. I noticed Bradley’s brows furrow slightly at his words. “Why?” Buck shrugged. “When two people are in the navy, deployments almost always drive them apart. Glad you made it though.” I nodded, not meeting his eyes. I could feel his stare burning into the right side of my face.

“We sure did.” Rooster reached for my left hand, holding it up to show off the gold ring. “What a rock!” Buck exclaimed. His hand touched mine and I immediately pulled away from him. “Oh shit. What happened to your face?” I felt the tips of his fingers graze my right cheek and I jumped back. “Woah, Mags.” Rooster’s hand landed on my back, pulling me into him. “Gee, someone’s jumpy.” Buck laughed loudly, drawing attention. “We’re gonna head home. See ya man.” Rooster seemed a little on edge, placing himself between Buck and me. We checked out, loading everything in the Bronco before we headed home. Rooster held my hand as we drove home, his thumb rubbing the back of my hand. I should’ve told him sooner. I should’ve told him as soon as he came home. Waiting has only made this so much harder. What if he was mad at me? I told Buck about Rooster and me, but he was dead set on us not making it, and I never explicitly told him I wasn’t interested. I stared out the window as Bradley drove. The scenery flying by as some of the dog food rolled around in the bags. I didn’t even realize we pulled into the driveway until Rooster kissed the back of my hand. I turned to look at him, caught off guard a little. “I thought maybe we could go over the guest list some more when we got home.” I gave him a small smile, nodding. “Then we can start looking at ideas for the invitations.”

We unloaded the groceries and Rooster made lunch as I pulled out our wedding planner mom bought us, flipping to the guest list page. He slid a reuben sandwich in front of me before sitting on the bar stool next to me. “Okay, I think I can take out these eight people. I graduated from the academy with them, but I don’t think we’re close enough for a wedding invite.” He nodded as I erased some names. We finished our sandwiches as we went over the list, we had it separated out by family on each side and friends on each side. My side was practically overflowing with friends and family, but only Bradley’s friends’ side had multiple names. Only one was under family, Maverick. “Is there no one else in your family you wanna invite?” I asked as I took a bite of my sandwich. He stared at the lone name and was quiet for a few minutes before answering. “The only other person would be Tilly, and we weren’t on the best terms when I came back from getting your ring in Virginia.” I gasped, remembering that Tilly dropped a bunch of stuff here while he was deployed. “What’s wrong?” I shook my head, giggling at his surprised face. “Nothing, come with me.” I grabbed his hand, pulling him from his seat and up the stairs. “Honey if you wanted me all you had to do was say so.” He said as he grabbed my waist on the stairs. I giggled as his mustache tickled my neck. “No, follow me!” I took off from him, ducking into the guest room. “Ooh, we’ve never done it in here before.” I giggled as he followed me, confused as to why I had the closet door open. “What’s in there?”

I sighed, flicking the light on. “Your aunt Tilly showed up here while you were deployed. This was apparently everything you left at her house.” He slowly made his way over, staring down at the boxes. He reached into the top one, pulling out a photo album. He chuckled, running his hand down the front. “This was from the first vacation my parents took with me.” He opened it up to show Nick, Carol and baby Bradley. He couldn’t have been more than four months old in the picture. We flipped through the photo album, laughing at photos, laughing at some of the pictures. His parents really loved him. I looked up to see a few tears slipping down his cheeks. “Oh, Roo.” I reached up, wiping the tears away as he chuckled. “It’s okay, I’m not upset. Just… wishing they were here.” I smiled, leaning my head on his shoulder as he rested his cheek on my head. “Do you think they’d like me?” I questioned and he chuckled. “Honey, they would’ve loved you. My parents would’ve been so happy to have you become part of the family. They probably would’ve treated you the same way your parents do me.” I laughed loudly. “I’d catch hell from your dad then?” He nodded. “He would always having something funny to say or do. That’s just who he was.” I smiled, sitting up and reaching into another box for more photo albums. But when I opened it I was greeted by a pile of tulle, making me smile. “Bradley.” I called, standing as I opened the box more. He smiled as he joined me, looking down into the box.

I pulled the dress out, sliding it on an empty hanger so it could hang and de-wrinkle a little. Under it was her veil. Bradley pulled it out, smiling as he held it in his hands. “Um, I wanted to ask you something.” My hand wrapped around his wrist softly as I held part of the veil in my hand. His eyes met mine, a loving look them. “How would you feel… if I wore this veil at our wedding?” His eyes immediately glazed over, his eyes shifting from me to the veil and back to me. “Yo-you really-“ He sniffled and ran his hand over his face. “You really want to wear this at our wedding?” I nodded, giving him a soft smile. “As long as you’re okay with it.” I laid my hand over his that held the top of the veil. “And if you think your mom would want that.” He smiled, gently setting the veil back in the box before he wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up so I sat just a little taller than him. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, playing with the little curls at the back. “I would love nothing more than to see you wearing that veil when you walk down the aisle, and I think my mom would be jumping for joy.” I grinned, leaning down to kiss him softly. “I love you, Bradley.” He smiled, walking over to the bed, dropping me on my back onto the mattress. “Oh,” He sighed, staring down at me. His gorgeous eyes staring into my own and making butterflies loose in my belly. “I love you too, pretty girl.”

We went through more of the boxes, finding more photographs, his dad’s top gun shirts and even his helmet. “Do you want to invite Tilly to the wedding?” I asked as I flipped through another family album. He was quiet for a minute, his dad’s helmet resting in his lap as he looked over letters his dad wrote to his mom while he was deployed. He had a smile on his face that faltered when he finally looked at me. “I don’t know. She’s the last bit of real family I have, but we left on such a note.” I raised my brows, humming in agreement. “We didn’t end on such a good note either when she stopped by.” He groaned, leaning back till he was lying on the floor. “How bad was it?” I chuckled, laying on my belly as I grabbed his hand. “Well, she called the dogs mutts, then said you were scared of them.” He groaned louder. “Brad Brad.” He sat up. “No! She didn’t tell you that!” I giggled. “She did.” He put his head in his hands as I threw my arm over his shoulders, placing a kiss to his temple. “I hate the nickname by the way.” He sighed, looking up to me. “Anything else?” I tapped my chin, thinking back. “She was upset that we live together. She was mad about the renovations, saying I forced you to do it, and that I was disrespecting your parents memories.” He was angry, I could tell by the way the vein in his neck started protruding. “She was mad I spoke to her in such a way, and because I broke your heart so many times, she doesn’t trust me.” I wondered if I should stop, worried the vein in his neck would blow. “Well, I trust you.” He tried not to let the anger show in his voice, but I knew it was there. “She was going to come back but I told her you were deployed, and I told her she could leave the stuff. Then Mav showed up when she went to leave.”

“They didn’t get into a fight, did they?” I pursed my lips. “Not really. She told him he could never replace your dad.” Rooster shook his head. “He’s never tried to replace dad.” I nodded, laying my head on his shoulder. “That’s what I told her. But she left after that.” His head hung forward as he sighed. “I don’t know about inviting her to the wedding.” I nodded, running my fingers through his curls. “That’s okay, honey. How about we order a few extra and if you change your mind, we have one to send, and if not, then we just have extras.” He nodded, turning to me. “Alright. We can do that.” He gave me a small smile, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to mine. “I can’t wait to marry you, pretty girl.” I grinned as he threaded his finger in my hair, keeping me close. “I could literally explode with excitement at the thought of becoming Mrs. Bradshaw.” He chuckled before laying back on the floor and pulling me into his lap, straddling him. His hands ran up my sides, thumbs grazing just under my breasts as he smiled at me. I leaned down, pressing my lips to his as our hips pressed together. He hissed as I arched my back, my chest pressing into his. “You know what you’re doing.” I hummed. “Whatever do you mean, Lieutenant?” He wrapped his arms around me, holding me to him tightly. “What do you want?” I bit my lip, running my hand of his hardening cock beneath his jeans. “Take a wild guess.” He groaned, quickly standing with me in his arms before tossing me onto the bed. “Let’s get this off.” He said as he yanked my shirt over my head, making me giggle as he took his own off before grabbing my face, taking my breath away as he kissed me like a starved man.

Once we finally managed to get our hands off each other, we went back downstairs. We finalized the guest list, decided on a design for the save the dates and ordered them. We even took time to set up a wedding website and spent the rest of the evening setting up multiple registries. “Roo, we have pots and pans. Do we really need a new cookware set?” He nodded as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom, I was putting lotion on my legs. “Yes! Honey, you deserve all these nice new things!” He said as he spit his toothpaste into the sink and grabbed the mouthwash. “I’m just saying! I have an abundance of cookware. I had some of my own, and you had some as well.” He smirked, practically strutting towards my side of the bed, in nothing but his boxers. He crawled onto the bed, crawling over me and pushing me back into the bed. “You have a mixer too, so do you really need that five-hundred-dollar kitchen aid mixer?” I nodded enthusiastically. “Sure do. My cookies will be the best you’ve ever had.” I said as I gently bopped his nose with my finger. He just chuckled, kissing me sweetly before rolling off me and onto his side of the bed. “C’mere.” He grabbed my feet, pulling them into his lap and holding his hand out for my lotion bottle. I smirked, handing it to him and he quickly got to work massaging my feet. “Oh, fuck yeah.” I moaned as he pressed on my soles.

He massaged my feet for awhile before we became tired, crawling under the covers together, his strong arms pulling me back into his chest. I felt him bury his nose in my hair as I intertwined my fingers with his. “I can’t believe Buck was accepted into Top Gun. I didn’t think he was that good when I worked with him.” I hummed in agreement, my heart rate picking up at the mention of Buck. I never told Bradley, and I should’ve. “Goodnight, Mags.” He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck as he held me, thumb gently rubbing the skin of my belly, just above my underwear, until it slowly stopped. I tried to go to sleep, but the Buck issue was eating me alive. What if Rooster thought it was my fault that Buck did what he did? Never openly telling Buck I had no interest in him may have made him think I was available in some way. Tears pricked my waterline at the thought. I wormed my way out of Bradley’s arms, standing from the bed and allowing his shirt to fall just under my ass. I looked at him, so peaceful in his sleep. I pulled the covers up to his shoulder, watching as he grabbed them and buried his face in the quilt. I sniffled, making my way downstairs. I made it to the kitchen where the tears fell freely, and my bare feet paced the floor. The guilt shouldn’t be eating me alive. I didn’t do anything wrong, right?

“Honey?” My head whipped around to the kitchen doorway, seeing Rooster standing there. Boxers the only piece of clothing on his body, which made my brain glitch for a second. He furrowed his brows, stepping closer till he held my face in his hands. The light from above the kitchen sink illuminating my face enough for him to see the streaks of tears on my cheeks. “Why are you crying, honey?” His thumb gently ran under my right eye before gently grazing over my bruises. I gently pulled my face from his hands, not wanting him to touch the marred skin of my face. “Is this because of what Buck said about your face?” I shook my head, averting my eyes to my feet. “Talk to me, Mags.” I took a deep, shaky breath. He quickly grabbed my and lifted me onto the counter, slotting his body between my legs as he grabbed my left hand, lifting it to his lips as he placed soft kisses around my ring. “What’s going on sweet girl?” He asked, my eyes shifting down to my lap. I licked my lips, looking back up at him. There was so much love in those warm brown eyes, and I knew when I opened my mouth, that would change. I knew he would get angry. I gently pushed him back, hopping down off the counter, slowly walking around the kitchen island to put distance between us. “Mags?” He questioned as I pulled on my thumbs. Tears welled in my eyes; my cortisol levels had to be through the roof because I haven’t felt this stressed in a long time. “You gotta talk to me, Mags.” He placed his palms on the island, leaning forwards and I nodded, wiping my eyes as I looked at him. “There were… some problems between Buck and I during my deployment.”

He raised a brow, his jaw becoming tense as the words left my mouth. “What kind of problems?” It was almost a growl. “It started when we were running a drill and he left me out to dry. When we landed Hangman got ahold of him and after a few punches they were pulled into the captain’s office. After that he cornered me and told me to stay out of his way or watch my back.” Rooster’s muscles tensed as he paced, his hands making their way into his hair. “I sat down with Captain Wheeler a few days later and told him what happened. Buck was trying to get into my head. Trying to convince me that you were only with me for my body or my looks-“ He whipped around to me, face red, veins bulging on his neck. “Which I know isn’t true.” I reassured him. “Every time I came out of a call with you, he’d ask if you dumped me.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “After the mission we were the first ones in for debrief and he mentioned me staying out of his way. Bandits snuck up on us during our mission and I saved his ass from getting shot down and he was mad about it. Saying he knew me and how I loved the spotlight and the attention.” I sneered, growing angry just talking about it. “He said my divorce got me a lot of attention and me being seen with you just gained me more publicity.” If Rooster could have steam coming out of his ears, he would. His entire body was tense as he paced around the kitchen. “He backed me into the wall, telling me he could get me more attention.” Rooster’s head looked like it was about to snap off his neck when he turned to look at me.

More tears spilled over as I attempted to keep my composure. His face softened slightly as he saw how upset I was. I took a deep breath, walking out of the kitchen. I walked over to the couch, sitting on it. I felt like I was suffocating in there. He’s angry, and he has every right to be. But what if he gets angry with me after I tell him Buck kissed me? I heard his feet shuffling, and soon he knelt in front of me, him crossing his arms on my thighs. I took a deep breath, pushing my hair back from my face as I looked at him. “What did he do to you, Mags?” I sniffled a little, trying to gather my bearings as he took my hands in his. “He kissed me.” It took me a second to be able to look at him but when I did, I couldn’t decipher the look on his face. We locked eyes for a moment before he stood up, turning away from me as he rubbed his face. “No. Rooster, please! I smacked him as soon as he did it!” He turned to me, holding my upper arms in his hands. “Hey, I never thought you would let that happen. I’m not mad at you.” I nodded, feeling a little better. “You might wanna sit down.” I thought he’d fight me on it, but he made his way over to the couch, sitting down and pulling me to sit next to him. I took one of his hands in mine, playing with his fingers made me feel a little better. “He got mad and slammed me into the wall.” Rooster’s fingers wrapped around mine tightly. “I rammed him into the table before tossing him into the wall.” I glanced up to him, seeing he was biting back a smile. “We threw a few punches before I tackled him to the ground and just started beating on him.” More tears flowed as the memories flashed in my mind.

“Hey, I’m proud of you for fighting back.” Rooster took my face in his hands as I shook my head. “I called him Aaron.” I cried as I laid my head in his lap, face down on his thigh, my tears soaking his bare legs. “Oh, honey.” He pulled me up, coaxing my legs into his lap as he held me to his chest. “I was so out of it, I really thought he was Aaron.” He rubbed my back as his lips gently grazed my forehead, just under my stitches. “Aaron did… horrific things to you Caila. Then someone else does the same thing. It’s not surprising that you thought he was Aaron when your body was pumping adrenaline.” I shook my head. “Everyone thought I was crazy! I had to have a psychological evaluation when I got home!” He rubbed my back, holding me close as I cried. Once I calmed down, I took a deep breath. “They discussed dishonorable discharge but apparently he just got a slap on the wrist.” Rooster squeezed me a little tighter as he rested his forehead on my temple. “You kicked his ass, Mags. And when we go back to work, he’s not coming near you.” His words made me feel better. I always felt better when I was in his arms, or when he was around. “I promise Mags. I’m gonna make sure he stays away from you. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.” I sighed, leaning into him some more, feeling a little better that this was out in the open. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I knew the question was coming, and now thinking of all the reasons, it feels stupid. “I didn’t want to stress you out while you were deployed. It was something that I felt like I needed to tell you face to face. Then you showed up on Christmas and we got engaged, and I was just so happy to spend that time with you.” I said as I brought up a hand to rest on his cheek. “Then you left again and then the break ins happened and when you did come home, I just wanted to spend our time off together in peace.”

He sighed, his eyes staring into my own. “I was going to tell you after this week but then Hangman told me last night that Buck was accepted into Top gun. I knew I needed to tell you, and I planned to do that today anyway, but then we saw Buck and we got distracted by wedding planning. Guilt was eating me alive. That’s why I came down here.” He wrapped me up in his arms tighter before laying me back on the couch as he leaned over me. “I’m glad you told me, and I wish you told me sooner. I’m not mad at you, and I hope you don’t blame yourself Mags.” I bit my lip, wishing I could tell him I didn’t blame myself. “I’m going to remind you every day, it’s not your fault honey.” He said as he placed a soft kiss on my cheek before laying his body weight on me. The pressure felt nice and made me feel a little calmer. “I didn’t wake you up when I got up did I?” He shook his head as it rested on my chest. “No. I guess I reached over in my sleep and when I felt your side of the bed, I guess the emptiness woke me up and I came to find you.” I couldn’t help the little smile on my face. “I love you, Rooster.” He placed a kiss on my chest before looking up at my face. “I love you too, Magnolia.”

“Rooster!” I called from the kitchen. It’s the week of our engagement party and Rooster and I took the week off because we would also be doing wedding planning as well. Things have felt better since I got the Buck issue off my chest, and the fact I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him on base makes it better. I got my last few stitches out and was cleared for work. I still have some bruising but that is going away gradually, at this point I can completely cover it with makeup. “Yeah?” He called back from the living room. “Laura lands in half an hour. Can you put the car seat in the jeep for me?” Laura was flying in a day before everyone else and staying the night with us. We went ahead and bought a car seat and a pack and play for JJ so she wouldn’t have to drag his on the plane. JJ is seven months old now, and he’s growing like a weed if the weekly photos from Laura are any indication. I tossed the ham into the oven, knowing it had a while to cook before I got back home. Once I did that, I washed my hands and made my way upstairs. I slid on some sandals and grabbed my purse before stepping out the front door. I caught sight of Bradley hoisting the car seat into my car, watching as he placed it backwards behind my seat, taking the time to make sure it was latched in well, giving it a good shake just to be safe. I could see him doing that for our kids, making sure they were tucked away safely in the back seat. “Leaving already?” He asked as he walked towards me, Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts adorning his oh so perfect body. I nodded as he grabbed my waist in the driveway, pulling me flush against him. “Yeah. Laura won’t want to keep JJ in the airport too long.” He hummed, leaning down and resting his forehead on mine. “I never thought the sight of you putting a car seat in would be so sexy.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I can take it back out and do it again.”

He had the biggest grin on his face as I laughed, throwing my head back. “I wouldn’t mind.” I said once I caught my breath. “Let me grab my wallet and we can get going.” He me let go, walking back towards the house. “You’re staying here Rooster.” He furrowed his brows, turning around to face me. “What?” He was so cute when he was baffled. “Remember? Last night I told you I needed you to stay here while I went and picked them up because the ham would be in the oven.” His jaw dropped in shock. “Your tits were in my face when you said that!” He yelled and I rushed over, clamping a hand over his mouth. “Hush up! We have neighbors! Or did you forget?” I asked in a normal tone. “I did not forget. And I certainly didn’t forget how you coaxed me into saying yes with your tits in my face, just before you put my dick in your mouth.” I huffed, placing my hands on my hips. “I wasn’t coaxing you into doing shit. I just happened to ask you at that time.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Mhm, sure.” I pouted, tossing my arms over his shoulders. “I won’t even be gone an hour, honey. I’ll be back soon.” He huffed, looking away from me. “You owe me.” I smirked. “And I know just how to repay you.” I kissed his cheek when he grabbed my face, pulling my lips against his. He wrapped his arms around my waist as my hands made their way into his hair. He took my bottom lip between his teeth, drawing a moan from my throat as I felt my panties grow damp.

“That’s payback.” He said before letting go of me, making me whine. “Fine.” I groaned, turning on my heels to make my way towards the jeep when a sharp slap landed on my ass. I turned to Rooster; eyes wide at his actions. “You know what those sundresses do to me honey.” I had on a black sundress with daisies on it, and not gonna lie, my ass looks good. “Just you wait.” I glared at him as I slid my sunglasses over my eyes and crawled into the jeep, driving away as he stood on the front porch staring. I drove to the airport, showing up a little after their flight landed. I pulled into pickup, getting out when I saw Laura come through the doors. She had a ginormous suitcase behind her with her purse and a backpack that looked a little big for JJ who was in her arms. I smiled as she walked over, stopping and pointing at me. It took a minute before JJ’s eyes landed on me, a grin growing on his face before he squealed, tossing his arms around as he kicked his feet. My heart could’ve exploded at his reaction to seeing me. The closer Laura got; the more excited JJ got. Finally, I took him from her, kissing his cheek repeatedly and making him laugh. “Oh my god I’ve missed you.” I held him close, bending down as I kissed his cheeks again. He squealed as I stood up, leaning forward with an open mouth to ‘kiss’ my cheek. “Aw! Thank you!” He smiled, burying his face in my shoulder. “He’s exhausted.” Laura said after she tossed her bags in the trunk.

“We have missed you so much!” She said as she pulled me into a hug. “We’ve missed you guys too.” We pulled away before I strapped JJ into his car seat, and we got in. I had the soft top on the jeep, the front portion rolled back, and I kept the back seat covered for JJ. Just so his little skin didn’t get burnt or too hot. “Where’s Rooster?” I chuckled. “At home. He wanted to come but I tossed a ham in the oven for lunch, and we agreed last night he would stay behind while I came and got you guys.” She giggled. “Most guys are happy to not pick up someone from the airport.” I nodded. “He just wants to get his hands on this one here.” I said as I pointed my thumb behind me, making her laugh. “He really does love JJ.” I nodded. “I’m a little worried you may have to leave him here. Rooster may not give him up.” She laughed loudly. Soon we were home and Rooster was standing on the walkway leading to the driveway. “I told you.” I said to her, and she grinned. Rooster walked over to Laura’s side, opening her door and hugging her as she got out. “Oh, we’ve missed you guys.” She said and he nodded in agreement. “Hey honey? Can you get the bags?” I teased, knowing he didn’t really want to. “You get him. We’ll get the bags.” Laura told him and he grinned, rushing by me with his tongue out as he opened the back door. Laura and I grabbed the bags from the back as JJ squealed at the sight of Rooster.

“Hey buddy!” He cooed, gently lifting him from the car seat. JJ had the biggest grin on his face, giggling uncontrollably as Rooster tickled him. Rooster joined in his laughter, pulling him close and kissing his cheeks repeatedly just like I did. “Can you say hi to Uncle Rooster?” Laura asked, shaking JJ’s foot. Rooster turned to me, wearing a grin that threatened to rip his face in half. JJ raised his hand, as if to wave and squealed. It made me feel all warm inside seeing how Laura treated Rooster like part of the family. They all did, and I was so grateful for it. “Uncle Rooster and Auntie Mags. I like it.” Rooster grinned, wrapping his arm around my waist as I stepped closer. JJ grinned, leaning into my arms. Rooster took the bags from Laura and I, walking ahead of us. “You’ll have to stop once we get inside. Dahlia has been acting weird and has to give everyone who comes in a major sniff down.” Laura nodded and as soon as Rooster opened the door, Dahlia was sticking her black nose through the crack. Rooster got her to scoot back and we finally got through the door. Laura stopped and let Dahlia sniff her before she wagged her tail, nudging against her for pets. Laura laughed, scratching her ears. I bent down with JJ, watching as his eyes widened as he stared at Dahlia. “Ooh!” He said as Dahlia stood closer, her face eye level with his. JJ quickly raised his hand and I grabbed it. “Slow. You gotta be gentle with doggy’s.” Dahlia nudged his hand and he pet her a few times before squealing.

We all stood, and Rooster took their things upstairs. “She never used to be weary of people coming in and out. You know why she started doing it suddenly?” I shrugged, leading them into the kitchen. “I think it was because of the break-in. She started doing it after that.” She sighed, her shoulders falling. “You scared the life out of us with that call.” Guilt seeped into my chest. I never wanted to scare anyone, but I couldn’t call my parents right off. They would still be here if I did that. “Hey, don’t feel bad. You put up a hell of a fight. You have no idea how much Jameson bragged about his badass sister.” I raised a brow at her as I put some veggies in a skillet to cook. “He was really proud of you for kicking ass.” I scoffed as I adjusted JJ on my hip who was grinning at his mom. “You did! You shot at that man twice, and you fought tooth and nail. But his whole plan was to kill you, Caila. But you’re still here.” I sighed, knowing she was right. “They did say he was supposed to be a professional hit man.” She laughed. “And you got away from him. How professional is that?” She joked, making me giggle. JJ imitated my giggle, making me turn to him. “Rooster’s really good with him.” I nodded, handing JJ off to Laura as he reached for her. “He adores him, and seeing him with JJ…” She grinned at me. “Are you two still trying?” I shook my head. “No. I thought that maybe I was pregnant back in February, but I wasn’t. Just the flu. But we decided to wait till after the wedding. I didn’t want to get pregnant and try to move the wedding around.” She nodded. “That makes sense. I couldn’t imagine trying to plan a wedding while pregnant.”

“Do I hear wedding talk?” Rooster said as he walked into the kitchen and Laura smirked at him. “Not directly. We were just talking about scheduling a wedding while pregnant.” Rooster’s eyes grew wide, and he didn’t know if he should look at me or Laura. “Neither of us are pregnant, Bradley.” Laura laughed and his shoulders fell slightly. “Honey, do you mind setting up the table outside?” He nodded. “Here, take JJ with you.” He was perfectly happy to take the little boy outside with him. “He’ll make a great dad one day.” She said as she looked out the kitchen window. I followed her gaze seeing Rooster holding JJ, pointing to the Magnolia tree in the backyard. “Yeah, he really will.” After that we sat out on the back deck, eating lunch before Laura and JJ went upstairs for a nap. “God, I love that kid.” Rooster said as he washed the pans. I smiled, walking up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist. “And he loves you. He was so excited to see you.” He chuckled as he set the pan in the oven to dry before turning to me. “Can you blame him? I’m the fun uncle.” I laughed as he laced his fingers with mine. “He also has Jake as an uncle.” Rooster smiled, leaning closer to me. “Like I said, I’m the fun uncle.” I laughed before he kissed me sweetly.

Once Laura and JJ woke up Laura decided to take JJ out to the beach. We sat in a few beach chairs, under an umbrella, watching Rooster help JJ build a sandcastle. JJ had the time of his life playing with Rooster in the sand, and just as much fun when I took him out in the water. But soon he was tired, so we went in and while Rooster and I cooked dinner, Laura took a shower with JJ. Once they were out Rooster and I managed a fast shower, surprisingly, we were able to keep our hands off each other for the most part. We managed to eat dinner, even with a fussy JJ. He was stuck to Rooster like velcro, clinging to him as he put dishes in the dishwasher, fed the dogs dinner, everything. We finished out the night lounging on the couch, me next to Rooster as he held JJ, Laura half asleep on the other side of the couch. JJ had a pacifier in his mouth, sucking on it softly as his eyes rolled back in his head from how sleepy he was. I brushed a few hairs off his forehead, smiling at him. “He’s gonna need one last feeding before bed. Great thing about breastfeeding, I can lay on my side while doing it.” I chuckled as she sat up, looking at JJ drifting off on Rooster’s shoulder. “Well, I’m gonna take him, feed him and go to bed.” She picked up JJ, who let out a little whimper, making my heart clench. “Goodnight y’all.” She said as she carried JJ upstairs.

“I think it’s about time we went to bed ourselves. We’re gonna have a full day tomorrow.” Rooster said and I nodded. I went to get up, but he beat me to it, swooping me up bridal style, making me grin at him. Once I got upstairs, we brushed our teeth and I put lotion on my legs as Rooster crawled in bed. He laid down as I sat up next to him, his arm wrapping around my thigh, pulling it close and placing a soft kiss to my knee. “I love you, pretty girl.” I smiled, leaning down and kissing him. “I love you too, Rooster.” I smiled as he pulled me into his arms, placing kisses along my cheek. “Seeing you with JJ today, it was almost too much to handle.” He grinned at me, his arms holding me close. “Oh, you like me with babies?” I nodded, biting my lip. “Can I talk to you about something?” He nodded; brows furrowed. I sat up, straddling his waist as I planted my hands on his chest. “I went to the gynecologist back before my birthday.” He hummed in acknowledgement. “I talked to him about how we were trying to get pregnant, and he ran a few tests to see if anything was wrong with me. Everything seemed fine but he did say that the placental abruption could make getting pregnant again difficult.” He nodded, his hands running up his shirt I was wearing, thumbs grazing my stomach. “He suggested you get tested as well, just to make sure. I know you don’t like needles, but I just figured…” I trailed off, feeling like I was babbling. “Hey.” He sat up, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Of course I’ll do that. I may not like needles, but I would happily have this done for us, for you.” His forehead rested against mine, making me grin. “I love you so much, Roo.” He grinned, kissing me before pulling me down onto the bed. “I love you too, pretty girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @mak-32 @rosiahills22 @dhwanishah09

#i hope you dance #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #natasha trace #pete maverick mitchell #phoenix

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imaslutforremusandsirius · 4 years ago

Note

GeOrGeWeAsLeYpUnIsHmEnT. Don't ask, I'm going through a phase lmao-

Punishment

Forgive me if his personality isn’t portrayed correctly, I shamefully admit that I don’t know a lot about our tall ginger

Ngl I really love this one it just hits different

Enjoy :) <3

Warning: 18+, SMUTTY GIF BE CAREFUL!!!!

---

George has always been proud of the fact that he can make you laugh so hard your stomach hurts and you plead him to shut up. It was just something about the way your eyes lit up and you’d flush an adorable shade of red and god you just look so giggly and fuckable. You don’t even notice how everyone swoons and puts even more effort in making you laugh. It was so intimate to him, that whenever someone else besides his brothers made you laugh, he would sulk.

“The joke wasn’t even funny, she probably laughed because she didn’t want to be rude!”, he’d complain to Fred. His brother would just clap him on the back sympathetically and tell him that the joke had been pretty decent. And George would slap him. And Fred’s middle name is petty, so he told you about it.

“He said what?”

Fred nodded, a smirk on his face. “He gets so bloody jealous, it’s kinda sweet.”

You blinked, still surprised. “I never noticed. Is that why he always gets so silent? Because he’s jealous that I laughed?”

“No, not because you laughed. It’s the way everyone stares at you, like they want a piece of your a-”

“Enough”, you laughed, “I get it. And why are you telling me this now?”

Fred wiggled his brows suggestively. “I want to prank him. Please just laugh really loud when someone makes a joke. Exaggerate, put your hand on their arm, whatever. Just make him jealous, please?” Fred pleaded.

You bit your lip, mulling it over. George is pretty hot when he’s angry.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But if he breaks up with me, I’ll expose you!”, you warned.

Fred grinned “Deal.”

---

George was fuming as he watched you tutor the boys from your class. You were letting out adorable squeaking noises everytime they made a joke and shyly play with your necklace, drawing the attention to your chest. Glancing over your shoulder you saw him, his jaw clenched as he stared at the boys. Fred was next to him, giving you a thumbs up. You winked, turning back around and resumed your lesson.

George tried to concentrate on his book, but a partucularly loud giggle from your side brought his attention on you. Your boyfriend lost his cool the moment he saw you put your hand on one of the boys’ biceps. George slammed his book shut and sprang up from his seat, marching over. You weren’t quick enough to turn around and he splayed his huge palm across the front of your throat, slamming your head against his stomach. He smashed your lips together in a hard kiss.

“Get your shit and go to my room.” He growled out, not caring about the audience. He likes showing you off.

“But-” You tried to reason, gesturing to the boys.

“Now.” His tone was final and you nodded, excusing yourself from the lesson to grab your bag. You’ll just have to stay longer tomorrow.

He was already walking away with big strides, knowing you’d be a good girl and follow him.

---

“Move it” he said gruffly. You quickly went inside his dorm and he shut the door, turning around to give you an irritated look.

“What’s wrong Georgie?” Your kept your voice soft, feigning innocence.

He let out an angry huff. “Oh, nothing, besides having to witness you flirting with a group of boys-”, he spit out the word boys like an insult, “-right infront of my nose. Oh no everything is fucking fine, why don’t you go touch their arms again? Bet they‘re really fit!”

“I wasn’t flirting with anyone!” You argued, loving where this is going.

“Now you’re lying as well? Fine.”

He grabbed your arm with one hand, the other pushing down your skirt and panties. Tugging you over his lap he put one of his legs over yours to keep you steady.

“Guess I have to remind you who is in control here.”

With that he started to spank you, hitting each cheek with practiced smacks.

„Wait-“

He cut you off with a harsh slap on the bottom part of your ass, making you hiss in pain.

„Quiet.“

You shut your mouth, but couldn‘t hold in the little whimpers of pain. You felt yourself getting wet, the way he was holding you down and doing whatever he wanted made you crave his touch on your cunt.

„Look at you“, he cooed „getting wet from your punishment.“

Still holding you down tightly, he spread your pussy, his middle finger tracing your slit, before pushing in slightly.

„What a pretty cunt, opening right up to me. So you do know who you belong to“, he mused.

Letting you go he made you sit up on his lap, face level with his and slipped two fingers in, his thumb on your clit. You jumped from the sudden pleasure, hands squeezing his shoulders and rocked your hips to meet his fingers.

„Ah George, please..“ you breathed, kissing him and pleaded some more.

„Please what? Wanna cum?“, he mocked you.

„Yes“, you whined with a high pitched voice, „Yes, please!“

He started to go faster, bringing you to the brink, only to pull out over and over again. His fingers curled and fucked you with ease, knowing exactly what got you off.

Yes were begging him, trying to find a way to appease his rage.

„Please“, you cried out, „Please, make me cum! I swear I didn‘t mean to! Ah it was supposed to be a prank. Fuck, George!“

His eyes widened in surprise and he immediately took his fingers out before you came and you sobbed, wanting his fingers back. You had been so close.

His hand came up to squeeze your jaw and you felt your own slick wetting your face.

„What the fuck did you just say?“ His jaw was set, eyes darkening with fury. His fingers squeezed harder and you winced.

„It was supposed to be a joke. You were so cute when you were jealous and I-“

Slap.

Your face turned to your right and your cheek stung from the force behind his hand. He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back until you had to look down to be able to see his face.

„Cute huh? Lets see how cute I am when I fuck your face..“

Still holding your hair in his fist he pushed you on your knees, taking his hard cock out of his pants.

„Open your mouth, bitch.“

You open, sticking your tongue out as he leans over you, spitting on it.

„Keep your mouth open.“

You obey, hands behind your back.

George takes his cock, bringing it to your tongue and slowly rubs the head of his cock against it. He holds it there for a few seconds, pumping leisurely and the precum slowly slides down your tongue. You moan, wanting to taste him and he smirks menacingly. Letting go he takes your head in both hands, pulling you back and forth and you move your tonge along the underside.

„Suck.“

Pulling your lips around him you suck gently, tongue playing with his tip. You moan when you taste him, taking him out to suckle on the tip. Slapping him on your tongue, your hands move down to touch his balls.

He forces your head down, making you gag as you try to take all of him. George clearly doesn‘t care and grunts, moving your head like you‘re his toy.

„Mmm fuck just like that. You know what‘s cute? Me deciding when you get to breathe.“ He moans out, hips bucking when your throat constricts around him. Your nails dig into his thighs, but George keeps fucking your face without a care in the world.

„Fuck yes“, he groans, „look at your pretty mouth stuffed full of cock.“

You gasp when he lets you breathe again. George takes his cock and rubs it along your lips and cheeks.

He gives you a pout, smiling. „Why are you crying baby, was it hard to breathe?“

„Please George“, you plead, voice meek, „Please fuck me, please please!“

He gives you a smirk, bending down to pick you up. You wrap yourself around his tall frame, ankles locking behind his back. He presses you against the door, kissing you harshly and slips inside with a hard thrust.

You cry out, holding on as he fucks you in a merciless pace, his kiss painful. His right forearm presses your head back against the door and your hands fly up to anchor yourself. The lack of oxygen makes you dizzy and you choke as you mewl.

„Gonna cum please!“

He pulls out with a growl, putting you down to turn your back to him. He fucks back inside, the side of your face pressed against the wood.

„You better keep your mouth shut if you don‘t want the whole tower to hear.“

You bite his palm to keep yourself from screaming when his cock hits that spongey spot inside of your cunt, making you see stars. George twitches inside of you, his own moans loud against the door.

„Want everyone to know how good you make me feel“, he moans into your ear, hissing when your teeth sink into his palm. He takes that as a warning that you‘re about to cum and pulls out, throwing you on the floor. Not giving you time to adjust he fucks your face again.

You gag around him and he leans he head against the door, groans turning into whimpers. Your nose is smushed against his pubic hair, drool leaking from your mouth.

„Fuck gonna cum ah-“

He cums in hot spurts down your throat, voice breaking when he calls out your name. He keeps fucking your face, slowly now and pulls out, crouching down infront of you.

„Please George“, you blabber, so fucking needy. You were delirious with want, just wanting to cum.

„This is your punishment“, he sneers against your parted lips. „You don‘t get to cum today.“

---

You‘re in the library again, sitting on George‘s lap when you tutor the boys. They don‘t dare to make a single comment, diligently taking notes and not once looking behind you. Your were leaning forward on your elbows, your face resting in your hands, when you felt George‘s hands glide up your legs. You ignored him and continued to teach, balling your fists when he slipped your skirt up. You felt him harden underneath you when he saw the bruises on your ass from yesterday.

You told the boys to mull over a question you asked them and leaned back.

„What are you-“

You didn‘t get far with your question when you felt his cock against your pussy. He slipped in slowly and you felt him stretch you, his hands holding you still.

You gasped in surprise, shading your face with your hand and bit your lip from making any noise.

George just sat there, hands rubbing your thighs and let you teach. You tried to hurry up, your cunt squeezing him accidentally when his fingers would graze your swollen clit. He fucked up into you whenever that happend, clearly not afraid to make you cum in front of everyone.

He gripped your waist pulling you back and his cock grazed your sweet spot, making you whine softly and press back. You were still frustrated from the day before, he hadn‘t let you cum at all.

„Be quiet or I‘ll stop“, he said, biting your earlobe.

„Yes, George.“

„There‘s my good girl.“ He kissed behind your ear and you made sure that the boys were busy with the essay, before you parted your legs to let your boyfriend play with your clit.

His fingers rubbed your clit slowly, before he gradually went faster, circling his hips so his cock would fuck your sweet spot.

„Um, whats the answer to question four?“

Fuck.

Your felt George go faster when he realized that it was ghe boy you touched and tried to answer.

„Um it‘s“, you choked on your words, hand gripping George’s wrist under the table, but he shook it off.

„Goblin revolution“, George responded, voice hard. „Now concentrate.“

The boy immediately looked down, not daring to ask another question. You had your face burried in your hands, tembling slightly.

George thrust up hard, acting like he was adjusting in his seat and you came on his fingers, biting your thumb to keep any noise in. You felt him cum inside of you, a warm feeling spreading in your cunt.

He went back to kissing your neck in attempt to cover his own moans, biting hard when he felt you squeeze him tight.

Slowly he pulled his hand away to bring it up to his lips and you heard him hum around the wet fingers.

Blushing you crossed your legs with him still inside of you and continued the lesson.

„I have my good girl back, yes?“

You flushed at the question, his voice a little too loud. George didn‘t care, he wanted them to hear.

„Yes George.“

And Fred was laughing his ass off behind you. Now everyone would know what a kinky fucking couple you are.

#george weasley #george weasley smut #hp smut #harry potter smut

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https-ugly-boy · 4 years ago

Text

Finish What You Started

MINORS DNI

NSFW Smut under the cut

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura X AFAB!GN!Reader

CW: Masturbation, mutual maturation, voyeurism, minor drooling & spanking

Word Count: 1,926

A/N: I’m nervous thanks for coming to my ted talk

As you bounced up and down on your dildo, you buried your face deeper into the pillows on his bed, letting his scent fill your lungs. You had been infatuated with Shigaraki Tomura since the first time that Dabi had introduced you to him and the rest of the League, and at this point you were desperate. You had poked and prodded at him trying to gauge his reaction towards you, flirting shamelessly and snuggling up close to him every chance you got, but he never seemed that interested. You were so tired of waiting and so needy for him that climbing into his bed and humping at your toys while smelling him on his pillows felt like the only logical option at this point. You moan as you glide too far up the dildo, it makes a soft shulcking sound as it slips out of your sopping cunt. You whine into the pillows, reaching your free hand down to slip the silicone dick back into you. You buck your hips into the mattress, feeling your ass jiggle at the impact with the soft surface. You want so badly to cum. You want so badly to cum for him.

"Tomura-aah," you moan at the friction of the faux cockhead inside of you and your clit against the bed. Panting, you continue your thrusts, whining out for Shigaraki again, "Tomura- ugh fuck- please I-I need you, please," you nuzzle deeper into the pillows, "ple-please fuck me."

You start to pick up the pace, the hot spring in your lower abdomen stretches out and is on its way to snapping when a voice interrupts your frenzied, needy thrusts.

"What the hell are you doing?"

You flip over quickly, pulling the sticky toy from your slick folds and clamping your thighs together. And as though your pleas had summoned him, Shigaraki was standing there; framed menacingly in the doorway, his crimson eyes boring into the depths of your soul from between his Father's fingers. Your blood runs icy, unable to move a muscle or say anything, you stare back, a look of shame etched into your features. He steps into his room and closes the door.

"I asked, what the hell are you doing?" He snarls at your lack of answer.

You take in a shuddering breath, "I- I was- I was just-"

"Just what? Who the fuck told you that you could be in here?" Shigaraki's voice sounded dangerous, like the wrong answer would result in something that only one of you would enjoy.

You shake your head, "No one, I was just- I don't know know, I was just lonely I guess," the words tumble quickly from your mouth, your extremities were icy but there was a persistent warmth in your face and- in despite of (or maybe because of) the embarrassment- in your lower belly. "I-I'm sorry…"

He scoffs at you, strolling over to his desk, he keeps his back to you and does something you can't quite see in the dim light. Shigaraki turns back towards you this time without Father adorning his face. This wasn't the first time he had shown you his face, but even so the sight still managed to take your breath away all the same. His beautiful eyes were practically glowing as he glowers at you. You feel your breath hitch in your chest and the walls of your pussy constrict around nothing as he stares you down. His eyes narrow at you.

“You’re not sorry that you did it though, you’re only sorry that you got caught,” one conner of his chapped lips turns up slightly at your visible discomfort. Your heart races at how pointedly he spoke, you knew that you were probably in trouble with him, but you were still unsatisfied and in need of release, and he was so gorgeous that you could barely focus on anything but Shigaraki and the pulsing heat between your legs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he approaches you, placing a gentle hand to your cheek, grazing his scarred knuckles over the plump skin of your face. You lean into him slightly, breathing out and letting your muscles relax against him. The warmth is gone and you have to steady yourself quickly before you fall off the bed as he snatches his hand away.

“Whatever. Just finish what you started, then you can leave,” he moves back to the desk and you let out a small pathetic whine at his departure. “Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I’m even letting you do that,” He slumps down into his chair, still facing you and you can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans. “Well?” Shigaraki poked incredulously, “I don’t have all night.”

Your face was so hot and your limbs felt like they were starting to go numb, but even so you slid onto your back, angling yourself so he could have a better view, your cunt was aching for a cock that wasn’t fake and you were hoping so much that if he watched you then he would maybe touch you.

Tomura let out a small laugh as he watched you position yourself, “Shit, you weren’t kidding when you said you ‘needed’ me, huh?” His dry cracking lips curled into a cruel smile at the expression that you made.

Shit.

He had heard you. It felt like your stomach dropped through your back and to the floor. It was unbearable now, you pulled your thighs to your chest, giving Shigaraki a perfect view of both of your holes. Spreading the lips to your entrance, you push the head of the dildo back into your still drenched and clenching heat. You let out a small gasp at the ache that the hard toy leaves you with, a wave of pleasure washing over you as you advance the cockhead deeper inside you, smoothing over your gooey velvet walls. You start to pump the toy in and out of you, the lewd squelching and soft moans fill up the silence in the room, your eyes never leaving Tomura’s face. Your eyes were glazed over watching him, taking in every drop of his beauty. With this, you notice that he’s breathing heavy and staggered, a small trail of drool found its way past his rough lips. He swipes the cuff of his sweatshirt over the salivation, those crimson eyes still piercing unwaveringly into you, watching everything you do. He fumbles with the fly on his jeans for a moment before pulling down the waistband of his jeans and his briefs, his large cock no longer sheathed fully in its foreskin bounces free and strains against his stomach.

You gasp at the sight. Compared to both the toy inside you and previous people you’ve been with, he easily dwarfs them. You stop pumping for a moment to gaze longingly at it.

“What?” his voice is sharp and unforgiving, “Did I tell you to stop?”

You breath caught slightly in your throat, “You- you’re bigger than I thought…” the words fall from your lips before you can stop yourself.

He lets out a barking laugh, “Whatever, just hurry up.” Still, you couldn't help but notice his cock twitch at your words.

You continue your initial assault on your hole, still unable to look away from the sight in front of you. Shigaraki started to pump his large member in his fist, small beads of precum leaking from the deep red tip. A moan found its way from your throat as you watched, aching and desperately wanting him to plunge into you and replace the stupid piece of plastic that was currently occupying your pussy. You moved faster, hoping that the added friction would make up for the size difference, but either way it wouldn’t have mattered, you knew you wouldn’t be satisfied until you had the real thing.

“Sh- Shiga- Shigaraki, please…” you buck your hips into your hand and try to get the toy deeper inside of your clenching cunt. “Please fuck me, Shigaraki... “ now that he was actually in the room with you, there could be a chance that you could sway him to pound you into the mattress.

A harsh backhand landed across the ample cheek of your ass, his long nails leaving small red scratches on your backside. You groan and throw your head back at the pain, but the feeling of his set to send you into a tailspin, you pussy clenched hard around the toy, ushering another moan from your lips as you continue to drive the dildo in and out of yourself.

“Shut up, I already told you, you have to finish what you started,” he pulled back to his chair. "Besides, it was cuter when you called me 'Tomura'."

You whine a little as you thrust into yourself harder, on every pull you could feel the molded head of the toy rub your sweet spot. The coil of heat in your belly starts to tighten again, and having Shigaraki there made it all the better. You were teetering on the edge at this point, the pain from how hard the dildo was and how it stroked your walls combined with his prying eyes made you lose your sense.

"T- Tomuraaa-aahhhh" your walls clamp down hard on the dick inside you, sending you into a shuddering orgasam that wreaks through your body, your arm was moving of its own volition, keeping the dildo moving as you rode through wave of pleasure after wave of pleasure. You didn't want to stop, you didn't want to think what would happen after you finished. The intense clenching made it impossible to think, and without realizing it, you were squirting all over Tomura. Your ejaculate splashing onto his face and cock, and into his slightly open mouth, he let out a sharp breath at the sight.

Of course he had seen people in porn squirt like that, but he hadn't imagined that you, with your incessant pestering and bothering, would be moaning his name and spraying all over him like an animal in heat. And the real kicker was, as much as he didn't want to, he loved the scene that was unfolding before his eyes. He gripped himself tighter as you continued to abuse your own hole and moan his name. Your stream of juices tapers off and he can't help but feel a little disappointed he wasn't able to taste more of that nectar that landed on his tongue moments ago.

You let out a shuddering gasp as you come down from your high, your legs shaking as you tug on the dildo. The constricting of your pussy has it much more difficult to get out than it was a few minutes ago, but nonetheless, giving a more solid pull the toy pulls out, a wet popping and a small flick of your wetness accompany the removal. You sit there for a moment, basking in the post bliss of your orgasm when the sound of Tomura clearing his throat loudly snaps you back to reality.

You sit back up and pull your underwear and shirt back on quickly. As you're standing up to leave, he clears his throat again. You freeze, your back to him.

"I don't know where you think you're going," his voice was low and stern. You turn and face him.

"You said to finish and then leave…" and as the first words left his mouth you realized what he was talking about.

"I told you to finish what you started. You started me up," he gives his cock a few strokes for added effect and smiles at you again, "now you have to finish me."

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki thirst #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #nsft #shigaraki smut #shigaraki nsft

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mshomestyle · 4 years ago

Note

Your checking under the beds for monsters was so sweet!! If you’re still doing these- how about saying goodbye to their kids before an away mission? I don’t mind which guy you pick!

Thank you so much! And I guess I’ll do Bakugo and Izuku again. I love writing their differences.

Bakugo and Izuku saying goodbye to their Kids before Leaving on an Away Mission [Head Canons] [XReader]:

Izuku:

-It just came with the territory. On occasions, Izuku would have to leave his family for a period of time in order to fulfill those hero duties.

-It could be rather difficult for him as well, because he loved his family. And while you completely understood and accepted it, his young son still got teary at his daddy leaving.

-”Is your bag packed correctly?” you asked your husband, “Did you forget anything?” Izuku smiled at you lovingly before leaning down and kissing your lips.

-”Everything’s fine, honey,” he assured, “I’ll miss you.”

-”I’ll miss you, too.”

-You could see Izuku’s face visibly get red as he leaned in to give you another kiss.

-Once he finished giving you a heartfelt goodbye, he stooped down to pay attention to his son, who was holding onto your bottoms with tears threatening to leak from his eyes.

-”Daddy is going to be leaving for a while, but I need you to be a big boy for me, alright?” he asked. The little boy nodded, though his tears persisted.

-”I’ll miss you daddy,” he said as he dived against Izuku’s chest, hugging him tightly.

-”I’ll miss you, too.” Izuku gently kissed the top of his son’s head, “I love you, and I promise that when I get home, we can spend the entire day together.”

-That seemed to perk the little boy up, who now looked at his daddy with a happy face, “Can we pway hewo, too?!”

-”We can play whatever you want!”

Bakugo:

-Like all other heroes, Deku included, Bakugo had to go on long missions out of town. He wasn’t the happiest when these were joint missions with the man mentioned before, but he’d make it work.

-”Come back to me the same Katsuki as always. You know, boastful and a big ball of explosions,” you teased.

-Bakugo rolled his eyes before pulling you close to him for a kiss, “Yeah, whatever. Just know I’ll miss you.”

-”Daddy, daddy!” His daughter rushed over with her own suitcase packed as well and clung to his leg, “Take me wif you!” She seemed determined. You just giggled, going to let your husband deal with this.

-So, with a sigh, Katsuki got down to his daughter’s level. “Baby girl, you can’t come with daddy. I’ll miss you, though.” The little girl pouted.

-”But whyyy?” she whined. Katsuki let out a sigh before giving her head a nice rub.

-”Because if you do, then who is going to protect mommy?” he asked. The little girl looked at her father in utter shock.

-”You’we wight, daddy!” she agreed.

-”Yep. Now, what do you do if there’s a stranger at the door?”

-”Go wun and tell mommy!”

-”And if you’re out with your mommy and some other man tries to talk to her?” After Katsuki asked this, the little girl raised up her hand menacingly, little sparks starting to fly from it.

-”I call him an extwa and tell him to leave my mommy alone!” she replied.

-”Good girl!” Katsuki praised his daughter as he brought her in for a hug, “I love you.”

-”I love you, too, daddy!”

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

Text

Jaune of the Dead II

-------------- Two Hours earlier ------------

“C’mon Rubes, you can’t depressed all day just because you’re imaginary boyfriend ghosted you.” Yang said playfully to Ruby.

“He’s not imaginary! He’s taller than dad, blonde, and wears a white trench-coat, I keep telling you this! That the mean Schnee made me blow up, and then he showed up did a glowy thing, and I felt great! Then walked me to the place, and then disappeared like a ghost! Then I found out he supercharged my aura! How do think I could have done so well in Initiation!” Ruby said to her sister rapid-fire.

A tall redhead puts her hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t sell yourself so short Ruby, accepting your successes is necessary for good mental health, and from what I saw was enough to put some huntsmen to shame.”

Ruby pouts. “Yeah, I know! The thing is I can’t one shot a Nevermore and fly on my own! The thing is I know how strong I am, and I am not strong enough to do those on my own!”

Yang and Pyrrha sigh.

“Ruby, c’mon you’re awesome! You’re talented and you’re strong, so stop selling yourself short, wait never-mind that does apply to you.” Yang said with a shit-eating grin.

Ruby’s face was a brilliant red as she started pounding weakly against Yang’s arms. “Yannng! I drink milk, I’ll be tall one day!”

“If you say so, Rosebud.”

Pyrrha watched the exchange with a amused smile, feeling very pleased with her team so far.

She hadn’t expected to partner up with a prodigy and her sister, but destiny was full of twists and turns.

Many, many twists, like Yang’s partner and the leader of team BYRN.

Bleiss Schnee.

The notorious Black Sheep of the Schnee household and disowned daughter of Jacque Schnee for reason’s kept private, though considering what she heard of the man in the day she has known Bleiss, it didn’t paint flattering picture why he did what he did.

Who disowned their child based on appearance?

*BZZZ-BZZZ-BZZZZ*

*SNORE-SNORE*

The Black Sheep slept noisily in a dark corner of the room with her limbs thrown all across the bed as she slept under neath a black canopy bed with... her toys all still vibrating under her sheets.

A series of black glyphs floated menacingly around her bed as she slept.

Thankfully the curtains on the side of canopy bed only showed a hazy figure behind the curtains.

Bleiss had made her team go out last night to celebrate making it through initiation. They had gone to club after club, well Yang and her did, Pyrrha and Ruby left not feeling comfortable on that scene.

Yang had come back to the dorm alone, as Bleiss wanted to find someone to ‘Break her in half while folding her legs over her head,” or to find “A soft little sub to break between her legs.”

Bleiss had somehow come back empty-handed and frustrated.

Then she brought out the toys.

It had been hours before she went to sleep.

She had no idea how Ruby slept through it all, especially Yang screaming bloody murder trying to break her glyphs, which when broken unleashed somesort of insect like grimm that stung Yang without mercy.

Pyrrha was one-hundred percent sure that she started moaning louder to annoy Yang.

Thankfully, Ruby seemed to know what was going on. Apparently having walked in on Yang in a private moment before, but she still blushed red at noticing what her leader was doing calling it ‘Filthy.’

Pyrrha was also sure that it was a fools errand to try and wake her up for class. Bleiss had struck her as the type to have a couple trips up her sleeve. It did make Pyrrha ponder why she needed defenses why she slept though, but following those paths of thought those only led to dark explanations. Bleiss might make it clear one day if they grew close, and maybe, hopefully, it would have a more happy origin.

Bleiss had also made clear as leader of Team BYRN, she would go to class when she damn well felt like it. She had pointed out a loophole in the Beacon Rule book, apparently she could skip class as long as she maintained a 90% average in her classes, she could not be dropped from the classes.

A rule that was normally reserved for 3rd and 4th years who often took missions and had spend time recovering and could not attend classes, so were normally given abridged lesson and makeup tests.

Pyrrha had no idea how she going to do it, but she’d try her best to support her leader.

Pyrrha looked back to her teammates, and hopefully friends.

Yang had gotten Ruby into a headlock and was rubbing her head with her knuckles.

“Ah! AH! AH! I yield, I yield!”

“Yeah, you do, who’s the big sister, I’m the big sister, woo-woo!”

Yang dropped Ruby to the ground, who then started pouting.

Then a look of realization hit her. “See that proves it!” Pyrrha raised a elegant brow towards Ruby. “Proves what?”

“That I didn’t do all that crazy awesome stuff at initiation on my own! If I could Yang wouldn’t be able to beat me up like that!”

Pyrrha gave it some thought she had a good point.

Yang flexed her arms. “I don’t though, maybe you’re just making it excuses.”

“Maybe you just a big head!”

Yang smirks at Ruby, and then cups her chest. “I got some big somethings!”

“Ah, Yang!”

Pyrrha shook her head at her teammates antics, then her internal clock told her they had around ten minutes before class started.

Pyrrha gently clapped her hands together, not loud enough to cause shock, but enough to gain attention.

“Ahem, I do believe we have classes soon.”

The sisters looked at each other and then started cleaning themselves up for class.

Ah, she could scarcely imagine the day becoming more interesting.

--- 10 minutes prior ---

Professor Port’s lesson was interesting if veiled behind misdirection. At first Pyrrha had considered that he might be a little self-absorbed, until she started listening closely. He was purposely distracting them with long-winded stories to test their observation skills, which if one actually paid attention to would start to reveal valuable information on Grimm.

Bleiss’s twin had also the same class period as them along with her team, SBRN, Saturn. It seemed Weiss went out of her way to ignore all of them expect Pyrrha, offering her hollow praise and empty compliments.

Pyrrha had politely decline her offer to take notes together. Her team seemed nice, but it was clear there was division among-st them.

Weiss then proved to be as superficial as Pyrrha thought, having clearly been taking notes but not understanding the subtext. Prof. Port had to step in once it was clear the Greater Borbatusk was too much for her, it’s armor plating across its back and head, remained unscratched till Prof. Port grabbed it by it’s tusk and flipped it, cutting it’s belly open.

“Well, children let this be a lesson to you all, that if nothing else remember you have room to grow! And to cut a Borbatusk across the belly! HO-Ho-ho!” Despite his cheery demeanor, Pyrrha couldn’t help but notice the glint of disappointment in his eyes.

Pyrrha wished she had imagined the pleased look in Weiss partner’s eyes at her failure, and her teammates apathy towards their leaders failure. What had she done to sow such discontent in her team?

The class was dismissed and they walked to their next class, a new one if rumors were true, one that had been set up merely a day ago before suddenly being added to their schedule.

What, a odd occurrence.

It was hosted by a new teacher too, one Pyrrha had never even heard of, or the seniors if the rumors where true. But, if the rumors were true, which they usually weren’t, he was the youngest teacher in Beacon history.

How exciting.

Pyrrha, Ruby, and Yang stood outside the door staring at Weiss with her teammates entering beside her.

“I see my sister is not coming to this class, either.”

“Nope.” Yang said popping the p.

Weiss gave them all a haughty look. “Fine by me, that noisy harlot is an annoyance anyway.” She gave Pyrrha a fake smile. “It’s not too late to make the best team in Beacon history,” She looked towards the sisters. “I don’t mind trading one of mind for her to join.”

Pyrrha felt a flash of anger inside her, that was mirrored on Yang’s face, but she quickly suppressed it. “I’m sorry, but,” She put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder, and gave Yang a winning smile. “I feel I’m already on Beacon’s best team.”

Weiss scowled and stomped into the classroom.

Yang simmered before tskking. “What’s her problem.”

“I sincerely have not idea.” Pyrrha actually did if one did consider what was heard about Jacque Schnee. But, best wait before jumping the gun.

“She’s shorter than me, she probably mad she doesn’t have enough milk.” Ruby said seriously.

A snorting laugh echoed out of Yang and Pyrrha.

Pyrrha wiped a tear out of her eye.

Yang laughed. “Yeah, I bet she doesn’t have enough milk!” Yang said giving Pyrrha a knowing nod.

“I’m glad you two understand the power of milk!” Ruby said going into the classroom.

Pyrrha and Yang followed in after Ruby, and where momentarily amazed by the interior of the classroom.

It was bigger on the inside, with shelves of books covering the walls, diagrams and maps covering the walls, not an inch of the room was bare. Where there were not diagrams and books, where glass-cases, and various objects, ranging from swords, glass shards, skeletons, and weird objects that Pyrrha couldn’t hope to identify.

This did not look like the work of a day or two, this room looked as though it had been used for years!

“Wow, impressive.” Yang said from beside her. Then she scowled. “Uh-oh, looks like we got trouble this period.” She said elbowing Pyrrha to get her attention to nod towards a group of people even Pyrrha had no tolerance for.

Team VMMP; Vampire.

Vernal Wennbar

Milita Malachite

Melanie Malachite

Neo Politan.

A team of thugs and low-lifers that had somehow managed to get into Beacon.

Who, unfortunately had real skill to back up their attitude.

Yang squinted her eyes. “Something is off about them tho,”

Pyrrha had to blink thought to make sure they were the same team, though.

They were so quiet, and actually dressed for class.

Was.. Was Vernal wearing makeup?

No, she must be imagining things.

Pyrrha decided to ignore them and go sit with Ruby, Yang following behind her.

Then they waited, the class deathly quiet.

Team VMMP unusually quiet had been more than enough to cow the others into silence.

6 minutes passed.

5 minutes passed.

4 minutes passed.

and soon it would be only one minute before class started.

Their teacher, who ever it might be, hadn’t appeared yet.

Then came the sound.

*Clack-Clack-Clack*

Of heavy shoes rhythmic hitting the floor.

It had started near the edge of their hearing, sounding as if it was coming from across the school. Only for it to grow louder and louder, becoming more noticeable till it was evident it was coming towards them.

10:00.

He entered exactly as the 9:59 went to 10:00, right on time.

A head of long, messy, blonde hair came through the doorway, the hair easily coming to his mid-back. His face sharp and judgmental, but looking handsome in a imperious way. Two deep blue bloodshot eyes scanned the room as he went in, underneath his eyes were deep black bags, that spoke of a lack of sleep.

His body language tense and wary, not that much of his body could be seen as hit was covered by a billowy white leather duster, which opened to reveal stained, faded, well worn, and stitched up work clothes and pair of heavy duty work boots.

A sheathed sword on his belt.

That’s not what drew Pyrrha’s attention to him though, no it was her semblance. He was wearing metal gauntlets too over his hands and had some sort of metal armor underneath his clothes or maybe worked into them.

He was also wearing five necklaces, had a dozen rings, and had nearly twenty pounds of things, Pyrrha couldn’t imagine what, stuffed into his pockets. And that was just metal! It wouldn’t surprise her if he had more in there made of other materials.

Why did he have all those things?

She then heard Ruby’s breath hitch. “That’s him!” Ruby whispered to her and Yang.

Before she cold react he spoke.

It was not what she expected.

It was quiet, very quiet, tired too, like he had just woken up. His voice was deep, but raspy like he had a cold. But it commanded attention and impossible to ignore as within its core was a razor thin edge of Power. Of something that made his voice make her her shiver and alert to him.

‘He is dangerous,’ Something insider her warned.

“My name is Jaune Arc, I am eighteen years old, and I will teach you all the in’s and out’s of advanced aura manipulation, Soul Theory, and defense against the Paranormal. Any questions?”

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

9 years and 360 days ago

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

Little Jaune Arc was on his own.

He didn’t get it.

He told his parents, but they laughed at him and told him everything was fine. There was no scary lady in his closet.

He told them again. They laughed again.

He told them everyday, but they weren’t laughing anymore, they were mad.

They said if he kept making up stories for attention they’d ground him.

When he asked if he could sleep in their room, they said he was a big boy and had to sleep in his room.

Jaune stopped talking to his parents on the fourth day. They hadn’t even gone into his room. It was like that with everyone though, no one seemed to believe him, or want to go near his room!

Alicia was out hunting and out of Scroll range.

He tried Saphron and his elder sisters, but they were too busy for him. Saphron was always talking to Terra. And told him to get more creative if he wanted attention from her. Terra just laughed at him.

June was always on her scroll, and told him to buzz off.

Daisy wanted to watch tv or to paint, and told him he was distracting her, or be a model for her.

Jazz would just turn her music up till he left, or drag him into dancing.

Grace would just make him work in the garden with her, but everything he said went in one ear and out the other.

And the Rachel?

She is too young, couldn’t even walk yet.

He vented to them anyway. That was a new phrase he learned. He also learned what a phrase was at school.

“I don’t get it,” He said to his youngest sibling. “they won’t take me seriously! I keep asking and asking them to just wait till a storm hits and stay with me, but they just keep laughing, getting mad, or ignoring me!”

Little Jaune Arc grabbed his hair with both hands.

“It’s so annoying! Why is this happening?”

Rachel just played with her toys, pretending to drive a car.

A glint appeared in Jaune’s eyes.

He started playing too.

He sighed though.

“What should I do, what should I do?” He repeated to himself.

“I tried to get them to look at the window, but they keep ignoring it, I tried showing them my scars and they said they were from playing in the woods, it’s like everything I say is just being ignored.”

Jaune rolled the toy car back and forth.

Rachel bumped her car into his, pinching Jaune’s finger inbetween the metal.

A light white glow appeared on his hand.

Jaune looked at his finger in wonder.

He focused on it and tried to force the feeling back out.

Nothing happened.

Jaune frowned and looked at his hand.

He grabbed a toy car and slammed at his pinky.

A warm feeling engulfed his pinky as a white light block the car, the car bouncing off of it.

He tried to imagine it being warm again.

A faint white light ghosted over his finger, before dying.

“Hmm,” He looked at his finger. “I have no idea what I just did,” He looked at Rachel. “but, you helped.” He gave Rachel a kiss on the forehead. “Thanks sis, I don’t know if you can understand me, but thanks anyway.”

Rachel looked at him with baby blues and gave a toothy smile and giggled.

“You want to keep playing?”

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

An: Pyrrha’s more fun to write than I thought she would be. Next up though, on the fan fic list is Arc Acres, then Dead Knight, then Prodigy AU, then Sacred Rites II.

#Jaune of the Dead #Jaune Arc #Ruby Rose #Pyrrha Nikos #Yang Xiao-Long

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floatinginwords · 4 years ago

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Saved by the Devil (1/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: you been a ‘patient’ at the asylum for years. A punishment brought upon you by your terrible Gangster father. One day a devil comes to you with a deal that brings upon consequences.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!reader (not really romantic...yet)

A/n: first time actually posting this kind of writing. I'm used to poetry (I know it doesn't show) This is mostly for fun so if you like it cool, if you don't tell me why and how I can make it better :) I’m always down for some constructive criticism.

You sit across the table with only the sounds of ticking clock to keep you company. You were handcuffed to the table a courtesy by the nurses who stood behind the door, leaving you alone in the big empty room. You never been in this room before. Not in your whole 2 years of staying in Blue Hills Asylum. The room was reserved for patients who had visitors. You never had any. Truth be told, you never expected any. You had believed that living and dying here would be the rest of your life. But then the devil showed up and offered you a deal of a lifetime.

It was strange when the nurse knocked on your room door and in hushed voices said, “You got a visitor.” At first you had laughed, thinking they were playing a joke on you, a cruel joke, but a joke nonetheless. But the nurses faces remained serious and their eyes contained a bit of fear within them. A detail that didn’t go unnoticed by you. You had asked who it was but they would not answer. The nurses just wordlessly led you to the visitors room, cuffing you to the table, and leaving you to wonder who this mystery visitor was. And then he walked in.

You had never seen him before. He wasn’t family or a friend. The mans face was shadowed underneath a newsboy cap, a cigarette hanging loosely off his lips. He sits across from you, his head still hung low. You don’t move or say a word. He lifts his head finally and your eyes meet with piercing cold blue eyes. He lights the cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Y/N, right.” The man says a deep voice pouring out of him along with a Birmingham accent. A place you have never visited. You keep staring at the man, trying to hold the confusion from showing on your face.

“My name is Thomas Shelby,” he leans back in his seat, “ and I’ve heard you have some information that might be of value to me.”

“And what kind of information would you need from a person in a place like this?” You ask holding your voice steady and gaze strong.

“You and I both know you don’t belong in a place like this,” He digs into his pocket breaking eye contact for the first time, “Cigarette?” He holds it out to you.

You hesitate before moving to grab it, a task more difficult when cuffed to a table. Noticing your struggle, he slides the cigarette across the table gently along with the lighter. You almost forgot what the taste was like as you smoked the poison straight into your lungs.

“How long have you been in here?” He asks.

“This is isn’t an interview Mr. Shelby. Ask your questions.” You say.

“How’s your father?” he asks nonchalantly.

It was like a rock had dropped into your stomach at the mention of your father. A man who you couldn’t get away from. You hold your face together tapping off the ash off the cigarette. You watch it fall to the table.

“What is it that you do Mr. Shelby?” you don’t know why you ask, its safe to assume that you’ve already figured out. You can see the blades sparkling from under the cap and he makes no effort to hiding the gun inside his coat. He wanted you to know what he does, he wasn’t trying to hide it but show you.

He doesn’t say a word. His face in place like stone, giving away nothing but trying to read everything off of you.

“From what I hear, he’s doing fine.” Sharpness can be heard in your voice at the mention of your father.

Thomas Shelby laces his hands together and leans forward on the table.

“ I’m going to need some addresses (Y/N)”

You burst out laughing. “You think I know where he is? Do you not see where I am? Where he put me?”

“You’ve been to plenty of his hideouts and homes. You know where those are. You know his territories.”

Whoever his source is was right on that. You didn’t know that and much more. There was a time where your fathers approval meant the world to you, where you would hang around the business watch him deal with gangs peacefully or not. You at one point wanted to be like that man but now you fear you can become like him after seeing the evil that leaks from his soul. You know a lot of information about the man that could destroy him in more ways than one. Where he kept the money, the bodies he ordered to killed, the body of your mother he murdered…it was why he locked you up in here. Who would believe a girl locked in the asylum? You had no formal diagnosis of course but a man with a lot of money can keep things wherever he wanted. And you had no idea what Mr. Shelby would do with the information. Set up a meeting? kill the man? You wonder why the Mr. Shelby came to you for this when anyone would of squealed for the right price. So you ask him.

“Because you have no loyalty to him. Ill believe what you say.”

“They’ll know its me who said anything and ill be dead before next week.”

“Not unless I get him first.”

You stare at him with uncertainty wondering if there’s any truth to his words. You can’t be sure your not able to detect a lie or truth from anything he says. You lean towards the table, your eye looking towards the nurses knowing they were desperately trying to listen in. you weren’t for sure who, but you knew some were under the staff of your father.

“You need to get me out of here.” You say in a low voice.

He nods and rises without another word. Quick strides to the doo r with his coat flying behind him like a cape you watch him leave and listen as his footsteps retreat away. The clock continues ticking whole your heart beats fast as you think of actually leaving. And then you think of the consequences. Of running into one of your fathers workers on the street or even himself. It was too late to back out as the doors fly open and a nurse and Mr. Shelby return. The male nurse reluctantly uses the key to undo your handcuffs. You rub your wrist and hold a moan of pain. Under the nurses arm a dress. Most likely from the lost and found. Mr. Shelby has his hands in his pockets as he stands before you.

“Put on the dress.” He says and he walks way the nurse following.

“That’s it?” You called out.

He does not answer.

*********

Outside both you and Mr. Shelby sit inside his car. Neither of you speak as you scribble on paper all the addresses on the paper quickly. You hand it to him once your done and he puts it inside his coat pocket.

“Where do you think you’ll go, (y/N)?” He ask, our business now finished.

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

Before you open the car, he shoves a handful of money into your hand. You hand it back without hesitation.

“I’m not going to start my life owing anyone anything, Mr. Shelby. I appreciate the gesture.”

You leave the car and give one last look at the man who changed your life.

“Mr. Shelby.” you say.

He nods. And you walk away. He watches you from the rearview mirror until your nothing more than a speck. And then he starts his car and drives home with a plan to kill your father already developing in his head.

You walk for miles loving the feeling of the use of you legs and feet. You ignore the faces and eyes of people as they watch you swing your arms and smile at little things like the sky and trees. You did not know how much you would miss this. But its all brought down quickly at the sound of a voice you only heard in your fathers business meetings; Darby Sabini.

“now is that (Y/ FN) (Y/LN) I though they out you away for good.” He says walking towards you. You try to remain calm, cool and collected but then a horn decided to obnoxiously honk, and you jump in surprise. Making Sabini chuckle and his ego inflate at the thought of you afraid of him.

Sabini smiles menacingly “does your father know you’re out?”

You don’t say anything knowing the situation was bad no matter what.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want him knowing anyway,” he grabs your face and squeezes you wince, “I think I can make good use of you girl.”

You think to yourself that this is all for survival and you trudge your feet along following Sabini to his car.

READ PT.2

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #Fanfic

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missluthorwillseeyounow · 4 years ago

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Part II Wed By Candlelight (The Portrait of the Secret Bride)

Supercorp The Corpse Bride AU

Kara’s dreams that night are turbulent. She could attribute it to the fact that she’d had to endure dinner with Mon-El’s mother, but it’s far worse than any nightmare even Rhea could induce.

She dreams of her lady’s brother, returning home the prodigal son. But she knows of the atrocities Lex Luthor is said to have committed, of the wife and child he had left dead in his wake -- and Kara doesn’t want him anywhere near her lady. She can see the war Lena wages between her good judgment and her good heart, can see her vacillating between her love for her brother and her own instincts.

But Kara, who has no such attachment to him, sees how he brings nothing but discord and chaos into their lives. And she’s right.

Over dinner, he announces his plan to restore the Luthor name and fortune -- by promising Lena in marriage to his new business associate, a man named Morgan Edge.

It’s the first time she’s ever seen her lady truly angry. Lena’s fury emanates from her lithe frame in cold waves as she stands from the dinner table, straight-backed and proud, facing Lex with glacial eyes that burn with pent-up rage, before she throws her glass of wine in his face.

The second they’re locked in her room, Lena grasps Kara’s arms with desperate fingers. “We need to leave.”

“Lena--”

“I can’t stay here, Kara. Not like this. Not when he intends to shackle me to a man like Morgan Edge. I met him once, and that was enough. He’s a despicable cockroach of a man. I cannot stay here and marry him, Kara. I will not.”

Kara hears the steel in her lady’s voice, and loves her for it. She opens her arms and Lena melts into her, lips touching her throat, soft words murmured against her skin. “I won’t marry anyone but you.”

Kara huffs a small laugh against Lena’s hair. “Somehow I don’t think the Bishop will approve of that.”

“I don’t care. Hang the Bishop.” Lena smiles when Kara laughs again. She pulls away slightly, just enough for Kara to see the brilliant clarity in her eyes. “And hang the Luthors. Let them rot in this miserable place. We’ll leave them here. You and I can go somewhere we can be together.”

Kara’s heart pounds like a drum, and she takes one of Lena’s hands in hers. “You’d leave your family to be with me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

Joy bubbles up in Kara’s chest, almost dispelling the heaviness that had settled there since hearing of Lex’s plans. “We could go to Kandor. My cousin lives there with his wife, they might have a place for us.”

Lena rests her temple against Kara’s, her lips brushing softly against her hair. “As long as I’m with you.”

Kara sighs, and the two of them stay that way for a long moment. It feels as if they are standing at a precipice, with the threat of Lena’s family surrounding them and the terrifying exhilaration of the unknown before them, freedom just within reach.

“I’ll leave for Kandor at dawn, to make sure Kal can make a place for us.” Kara brings Lena’s hand up to her lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers in lieu of a ring. “I will come back for you, I promise.”

And Kara somehow, somehow, knows that this is the last night she will spend with Lena.

The dream shifts, and Kara finds herself in the dark of night, the wind whipping across her face. The horse she is riding on snorts in exertion as she urges the animal as fast as it can go.

There’s a fierce desperation in the way she grips the reins. She doesn’t know where she’s going, all she knows is that it’s a matter of life and death that she get there in time.

There’s a wound on her side that burns, but she just presses on it and keeps riding. Bruises have bloomed over her knuckles. Blood dripping from her eyebrow and an accompanying wave of dizziness tells her that she also has a head wound, but she grits her teeth and forces herself to stay on her seat. Nothing is more important than getting to her destination.

“Kara, we have to stop.” A man appears in her field of vision, riding alongside her. Something in her recognizes him as Kal, her cousin. “You’re bleeding too much.”

“No!” She protests violently, her voice breaking in the whipping wind “If Lex’s men found us, that means Lex knows that Lena and I were planning to run away. He’s going after her, Kal. We have to get to her first!”

She leans forward, urging her horse faster still.

Only, she never gets to her destination, because the dream shifts again, and this time, instead of a mount, Kara finds herself sitting at a desk, in a small, unfamiliar room.

Beside her, Kal’s son, Jon is sleeping peacefully in his cradle. On the table, at her elbow, is a solitary candle, its flickering flame casting a familiar thin light on Kara’s bowed form.

“Lena.” Her voice is little more than a whispered sob. The candlelight brings back too many bittersweet memories that make Kara’s heart ache and crumble, as if it’s dying a living death inside the cavity of her chest. “Lena…”

Kara swallows back a sob and wipes away the tears that blur her vision. She’s worked with less light before, she reminds herself, as she bends over the small locket, painstakingly recording every detail she can remember. She works ceaselessly and without the need for sleep, as if it were possible to bring her lady back to life with each brush stroke.

She knows -- She knows it’s impossible to bring her back. She knows it’s impossible to capture the warmth of her smile or the soft steel of her voice in a miniature portrait, she knows, but each brush stroke feels like a penance, a way to keep her alive.

When she’s finished, Kara seals it within the necklace. A secret only she knows.

This time, Kara all but forces herself awake.

She scrambles out of bed, nearly waking Mon-El in her haste. The floor is cold under her bare feet, but she doesn’t care. She scurries out of the room and down to the foyer where she’d left her coat.

Her hand plunges into the coat pocket and she triumphantly fishes out the antique necklace her mother had left her.

The exact same necklace in her dream.

Quickly, she retrieves a knife from the kitchen and pries it open as carefully as she can. It’s a painstaking process, trying not to damage a two hundred year old piece of jewelry, but finally, Kara’s efforts pay off.

The necklace opens to reveal the portrait Kara had seen in her dream -- a faithful likeness of Lena Luthor in miniature.

For the first time, it occurs to Kara that this is the only time she’s seen Lena outside of her dreams and their encounters. This solitary portrait is proof that Lena had lived. That she had been loved.

Kara’s breath leaves her in a rush, as she slowly realizes what this is.

A lover’s final gift, her penance, handed down her family for generations, from one bride to another, with the secret bride who never was inside.

She doesn’t quite know how she feels. It’s a lot to process, and it’s truthfully been a mad whirlwind of the past few days that barely seems real. She looks down at the locket in her hand. Lena’s face smiles up at her, the painting so devotedly true to her likeness, it almost feels like she’s alive.

Well, Kara thinks. If she’s doing this, she might as well go all in. They say every bride goes crazy before the wedding, after all.

Before she can talk herself out of it, Kara grabs her coat and shoves her feet into her boots. She spares a few seconds to root around for a flashlight in the hallway closet before setting out the door.

The air is chilly as she hurries along the familiar overgrown path. Somehow it’s less tranquil and more scary walking along the trail in the middle of the night, with the wind rustling through the trees and insects chirping. The serenity she’d felt before is gone in the oppressive darkness. In the night, everything seems much more ominous, formless shadows flitting around her, the night sounds loud in her ears. The leaves crunching under her feet feel more ominous than comforting now, and Kara finds herself jumping at every sound.

She draws her coat tighter around herself as she nears the graveyard, her flashlight illuminating a narrow beam of light that plays menacingly over the tombstones.

“Lena? Are you there?”

Kara’s voice is a tentative whisper, and she feels stupid. It’s cold, it’s the middle of the night, and she’s in a graveyard, looking for a ghost. Her steps falter, and she sighs, rubbing her arms to stave off the cold. Maybe it’s time to go home.

She turns to leave, but a familiar voice wisps in the wind behind her, making her shiver.

“You came.”

Kara whirls around to see Lena’s pale form behind her. The eerie silver radiance of her skin in the darkness makes her look otherworldly. But the dark red stains on the white of her red seem unnervingly real. Like Kara could touch the mortal wound on her abdomen and still feel the pulsing of blood within.

It reminds Kara of why she’s here.

Her fingers close around the locket around her neck, and she steps forward, closer to Lena. “I did. I… I think I can help you, Lena. I think I know what happened all those years ago.”

“What?” Lena’s voice is thin and hesitant, as though she can scarcely believe Kara’s words. “How--?”

“I see it. In my head, in my dreams every night. I see you and Kara. I’ve seen the love you had for each other, and I’ve seen -- so many things, but I need your help. I don’t have the whole story, there’s a side of it that’s missing, and it’s you.”

“I - I don’t understand, Kara.”

“What do you remember from the night you died?”

“I - I don’t… I don’t remember. So much of it is a fog in my mind...” Lena turns away from Kara, her hands flying to her temples. “It’s been so long. I’ve been waiting so long…”

Kara clutches the locket around her neck. “You have to remember. Please, Lena, remember. Because I have pieces of the puzzle, but you have the key to it. Try, please…. Look, you said you were waiting for Kara. But were you alone?”

“I… I think so. I’ve been alone for so long…”

“What about that night? That night you died?” Kara presses on, her hands coming up, wanting to take Lena’s arms, but she knows that there’s no body there to touch, so she lowers her hand. “You said the place where you were waiting wasn’t a graveyard then. What was it?”

“I - no, it wasn’t, I --” Lena’s voice is becoming higher, panicked and confused. Her beautiful face is lost and frightened. “I don’t know!”

Kara knows she’s pushing too far, and her instinct to comfort and soothe comes to the fore. She reaches out to touch Lena, and before she can remember that Lena is dead -- has been dead for two hundred years -- her hand comes up to touch her shoulder.

She touches nothing, but for a second -- less than a heartbeat -- her fingers meet resistance at the curve of Lena’s shoulder when there should only be empty air.

In that instant, everything changes. A shock comes through the end of Kara’s fingertips, and all at once everything turns white.

As the light blinds her, Kara hears voices in her ear. “Lex is watching, and the trip to Kandor is five days long. I can’t risk you leaving until I know there’s a safe place for us there. I promise you, Lena, I will come back for you.”

An unfamiliar voice. This time, a woman’s. “Lex has informed me that Morgan Edge is arriving tomorrow. This wedding must proceed smoothly, Lena. This is what you and I have been working for your whole life. What have I always told you? Everything I do, I do for you and our family…. We are so close, my dear. Everything we have lost will be restored to us. The Luthor name shall be revered once more, and we can become a family again.”

When the blinding light fades, Kara finds herself in the same old room in Luthor Manor where she and Lena slept. Except the sanctity of the tiny dark room has been violated by another.

Lena is dressed in immaculate white lace, flowers at her breast and in her hair. She looks beautiful and terrible at the same time.

Lex has her by the arm, his face a cold snarl above her as he holds up one of the wine glasses from the dinner table. His hand is wrapped around Lena’s forearm, and Kara rushes forward to rip him off of her, but there’s no use. Her hand passes through Lex, and he continues to sneer menacingly at Lena.

“You’ve never been poisoned before, have you, little sister? Well, I have. Arsenic has a very mild odor.” He holds up the glass to her face before throwing it across the room. Lena stiffens, but she doesn’t flinch. “Usually, one would never recognize it, but I know because my bitch of a wife put it in my drink the night she left me, sneaking off like a frightened little rat, just like you were planning to.”

Lex bares his teeth. “You women, you’re all fools. None more than you, baby sister. You couldn’t even think of a different plan.”

“I did.”

Lena’s free hand subtly disappears within the folds of her dress. As Kara watches, she silently withdraws a knife hidden within her dress and swiftly stabs it into Lex’s side. Lex yells in pain and his eyes widen as Lena twists the handle and pulls the knife out for good measure.

Lex groans as Lena pushes him off of her and leaves him lying on the ground. She gives him one last look, her eyes full of pain and cold anger. “Good bye, Lex.”

Without another backwards glance, Lena draws her cloak around her shoulders and all but flies to the stables. Her horse is there, ready and saddled, and she rides swiftly away from Luthor Manor.

Kara recognizes the path she takes. It’s the same path she’s taken away from the Inze house, the one that leads to the graveyard, and at once, her stomach is filled with dread. She wants to scream at Lena to take a different road, but Lena can’t hear her.

The dread worsens into full panic when she hears hoof beats growing louder and louder near them. She sees the same terror in Lena’s eyes when another horse cuts her path, and the mare she’s riding on rears up in fright.

“Lena!” Kara screams as Lena is thrown off the horse, her head hitting the ground hard. But Lena can’t hear her. She moans feebly on the ground, the back of her head covered in blood. She hangs onto her consciousness, and Kara watches fearfully as Lena tries valiantly to get up.

Behind her, Lex dismounts from his horse, his entire right side blooming red with blood from Lena’s knife. He advances toward her, hand on his side, and Lena stumbles, pulling herself away from him on her arms.

Kara frantically tries what she can to help, even though she knows it’s useless. Her hands can’t pull Lena up or beat Lex away as he drops onto one knee beside her struggling form. A glint of a blade is the only warning Kara gets before the blade Lena had used to stab Lex drives into her body now, and all of Lena’s breath comes out in a choked scream.

“You couldn’t just do what I asked, could you, Lena? Everything would have been perfect, little sister. Our fortunes restored, the Luthor name once again redeemed and exalted, and you would have been set for life.” Lex hisses in her face, flecks of his blood spitting from his mouth to her cheek. “But you had to go and spread your legs for some servant girl like a filthy whore!”

Lena closes her eyes, tears trickling down her face, and Lex laughs mirthlessly at her, voice lowering to a dangerous mutter.

“And where is she now, Lena? Where is your faithful Kara? She never came back for you, did she? You’re about to die, little sister. You’re going to bleed out in this godforsaken road, and she’s not here. You’re all alone.”

Kara screams at him, beats her ineffectual fists at him as he struggles to his feet, away from Lena, dropping her body on the side of the road. Kara drops to her knees beside her fading form, frantically trying to place her hands on her abdomen, as if she could close the wound herself. “Lena…. Lena….”

Her hands can do nothing. Unlike before, there is no resistance when she tries to touch Lena, her hands simply grasp thin air, even though the jagged wound on Lena’s stomach is terrifyingly real. Lena chokes on blood and air, and she can’t see Kara’s pleading face as she mouths her last word.

“Kara…”

All at once, the light blinds Kara again, and she’s wrenched away from Lena. She screams and tries to reach out, but to no avail.

When the light fades, she finds herself in the woods again, this time astride a horse, with Kal by her side.

She spies the limping form of Lex Luthor between the trees, blood trailing behind him, and she feels white-hot rage surge through her veins. She dismounts from her horse and lunges at him, dragging his broken body forward.

“Kara!” Kal’s voice tries to stop her, but Kara is beyond all reason.

She fists her hands into his bloodied collar and shakes him. “Where’s Lena??”

Vaguely, Kara realizes that she’s no longer seeing Lena’s memories, but Kara’s. The realization is lost when Lex laughs, and she wants to tear the smile from his face.

“You're too late.” Lex sneers, blood and spittle flying from his mouth, his face contorted in a terrible smile. “She’s dead.”

Kara finally screams her rage in his face. “You’re lying!! Where is she??!”

Lex doesn’t answer, just laughs and laughs. She wants to kill him, she could so easily finish the job, but she has to find Lena first.

She leaves Lex with Kal, and follows the trail of blood, her stomach turning and her heart pounding in her throat. From a distance, Kara can see where the trail ends, to a pool of blood and a lifeless figure dressed in white.

She screams. And screams.

It feels never-ending.

Everything shifts again, and Kara weeps against it, wanting this to end.

It doesn’t.

When everything rights itself again, Kara is standing in front of the old Luthor Manor. It’s in terrible condition, the west wing has caved in. Its shutters are broken and its windows empty. Like the family it served, it is dead now.

“There’s nothing left here, Kara.” Kal tells her “We should go. There’s nothing for you here.”

Kara shakes her head, resolute. “Not yet. I have a promise to keep.”

Their room is in disrepair. The bed they shared their love on is lifeless and broken, just like her lady. Kara grips the dusty sheets, tears slipping silently down her face. She would howl her grief out if she could. If she could, she would scream and yell and rage for the woman she loved and lost.

But she can’t. Her grief is too far beyond that.

So instead she drops the sheets and bends down to retrieve her oils and paints from their hiding spot in the floor. Nothing else in this room is retrievable, but this -- the last gift Lena gave to her -- is sacred.

That night, with great effort, she lifts the brush again. She can’t paint Lena’s face anymore. It hurts too much. That wound will never heal, but she can seal it within the necklace and place it above her heart.

Instead, Kara paints everything and anything else. She lets the brushes guide her, instead of her guiding them.

For a long time, she paints only in blacks of night and reds of blood and browns of earth covering the dead. She paints in slashes and heavy strokes that demand the weight of grief.

Sometimes the brush becomes too heavy in her hand, and she yearns to put it down, but Kara made a promise, and she is the only one left to keep it for -- herself, and the memory of a dead girl -- so she persists.

And then one day, baby Jon comes toddling into her room, burbling nonsensically around the fist in his mouth.

He waddles unsteadily toward her, tripping into her dress. She catches him with a small oof! And he laughs as a streak of paint smears his cheek. His hand splatters into her paints and he smears them over Kara too, making her chuckle.

They make a little game out of it, smearing paint all over each other, and Kara opens the brighter colors that catch his eye. Soon, both Kara and baby are smeared with greens and yellows and blues and pinks. She opens the colors that had been Lena’s favorites, and she lets Jon smear them onto her face.

She’s just teaching the baby how to mix paints to get orange when Lois catches them red-handed in the middle of their mess.

But instead of scolding them, Lois sees the first smile Kara has cracked in months and she shakes her head at both of them, chuckling, and marches them both off to get a bath.

And so Kara heals.

Slowly, and in small steps forward and many falls backward. But she learns to live again. She learns to build her life around the cavern in her heart.

Lois gives one of her paintings to her sister Lucy as a gift, and it hangs in Lucy’s sitting room for a while, until one of her guests, an illustrious and irrepressible widow named Lady Grant, sees the painting and offers to purchase it from Lucy on the spot.

Lady Grant proceeds to commission an entire series of paintings from Kara, and Kara rapidly acquires more patrons who marvel at her paintings, and praise her on the depth and emotion behind her work.

“One cannot help but be moved by them, by you, Kara.” Lady Grant tells her once in a rare moment of candid compassion.

Through it all, she never forgets her promise.

When, years later, she stands underneath an arch of white flowers -- plumerias, her lady's favorite -- Lois asks what her “something borrowed” is for the wedding, Kara doesn’t answer her.

Instead, Kara silently answers the woman in the portrait, sitting hidden in the necklace above her heart.

“My heart. It will never be owned by another, merely borrowed. He may become my husband, but my heart will always, always belong to you, Lena.”

______________

“Kara… Kara, wake up.”

Kara opens her eyes to see Lena’s face hovering over hers. The ground is cold and hard underneath her, sprinkled lightly with dew. Kara blinks rapidly a few times. It’s morning now, still early if the light is anything to go by, and the first rays of the sun are just brightening the horizon.

“Kara…” Lena’s eyes are relieved as she sits up, but her voice still holds a touch of concern. Her fingers hover lightly over Kara’s shoulder, touching but not quite touching. “Are you alright?”

“Do you… Do you remember now?”

Lena looks away from her, her eyes downcast and pained. Her voice breaks on a single word “Yes, I remember. I died on this road, and Kara, she never came. I was alone.”

“No.” Kara surges forward, ducking her head to get Lena to meet her eyes. “She came back for you. She… she may have been too late, but she came back. She never forgot you, Lena, not for the rest of her life. And she never forgot her promise.”

Lena finally meets her gaze, her eyes full of sorrow and hope long held back.

“Come with me. Let me show you.”

The path feels long and full of the things Kara knows now, but she and Lena walk through it side by side. Kara wishes she could hold Lena’s hand, but she settles for letting her fingers brush the outline of Lena’s.

She takes Lena back to her ancestral home, and opens the doors for her. The morning sun is just high enough now for the light to filter beautifully through the vast windows, painting the rooms with warmth.

“She made this home for you, Lena.” Kara turns to the other woman, who finally steps through the threshold with a look of wonder in her eyes. “All those years ago, Kara promised you she would build you a house filled with light and warmth, and she did. She built it from the ruins of the house where you first shared your love, and she’s kept it for you all these years.... All the women in my family -- every daughter that passed through these halls, every bride that said their vows here, all the way down to my Mother who was married here and left this place to me -- every single one has kept it.... And it was all for you.”

Kara takes the locket on her chest and opens it to show Lena the portrait her Kara made of her. “She kept you in her heart until she was ready to give you to her daughter at her wedding day. She was never able to be with you, but don’t you see...? Every time this necklace passed from one bride in this family to the next, she gave you her vows and she kept you alive.”

A strange sense of peace washes through Kara as she leads Lena through the halls of her family’s home. Lena’s home.

Lena touches the walls of the house, the flowers adorning the staircase, with reverent hands. There are tears on her face, but she is smiling as steps into the light filtering through the windows. She closes her eyes and turns her face to the light, as if she can feel its warmth. Kara stands next to her, feeling her heart fill at the sight of Lena in the home she was promised.

“Your brother cursed you with his last words when he made you believe she would never come back. That you were all alone. He kept you bound to your sadness for so long, but Lena…. your Kara loved you so much that her love for you spanned generations. You don’t have to let his words keep you bound. You can choose to be free.”

Lena’s eyes open slowly, and as Kara watches, her face becomes radiant, awash with blinding love and emotion.

“I…… I see her. I see Kara.” Lena’s reverent voice breaks into a breathless sob. “She says she’s been waiting for me.”

Lena turns back to her one last time, tears of joy shining in her eyes, and Kara knows she will never see her again. “Thank you.”

For a long moment, Lena glows so brightly that the light blinds Kara’s eyes. By the time her eyes open, the light is gone.

And so is Lena.

Kara stands quietly in the middle of the room and takes a long inhale. The melancholia of the past few days is gone. Even the anxiety of the last few weeks seems to have fallen off her shoulders. Instead, she just feels a lightness in her whole body, and a clarity of thought she hasn’t known in a long time.

“Kara?” Alex’s voice comes from behind her, concerned, and Kara turns slowly to face her. “Are you okay?”

Kara huffs a small laugh and beams at her. “Yeah, I really am.”

Alex moves to stand beside her. She’s still in her pajamas, and there’s a quiet sort of hesitation in the way she approaches Kara, all sisterly concern.

Kara smiles warmly at her and offers her hand. Alex takes it and they both look out the vast windows.

“I can’t go through with this wedding, Alex.”

Her sister turns toward her, studying her with a protective eye. When all she sees on Kara’s face is contentment and a tranquil sense of calm, Alex nods. “I know.”

“You do?”

“I could kinda tell.” Alex shrugs and gives her a knowing look. “You’re my sister, I know you. I was just waiting for you to tell me.”

“Does Eliza know?”

“Knowing her, she probably does.”

“Well, then.” Kara inhales long and deep. “I guess the only one left to tell is Mon-El.”

“Why am I not surprised that your groom is the last to know that he’s not gonna be a groom after all?”

________

By SorrowsFlower

This was so fucking hard to write (I actually had most of it written up but it was hard to join them all up together, but it JUST WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE). There is an epilogue of sorts to this, but I think y’all can probably see it coming, so I might as well not write it lol.

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #katie mcgrath #melissa benoist #the corpse bride #supercorp au #fanfic #my writing

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chokemeanakin · 4 years ago

Text

Patched Up- Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader

(aka ‘How To Make Your Jedi Boyfriend Simp Hardcore’ on ao3)

masterlist

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24603544

Summary: Reader gets her face all cut up during a mission, fluff ensues where Anakin helps patch her up, wash up, and get fed. Just some worried, protective, adorable Anakin with lots of fluff because soft Anakin is the best Anakin :)

You didn’t know you’d been cut until the blood dripped from your forehead onto the white linoleum floor between your feet. You stared at it, shocked for a moment before you realized the bounty hunter was getting away. The bomb he had set in the abandoned pub ticked in your ear menacingly, counting down the seconds you and your team had to live.

Ignoring the obvious fact that you’d been wounded, you stood and sprinted after the bounty hunter. It was hard-- the fact that you weren’t a Jedi certainly didn’t help-- but with your learned skills from training at the assassin academy for more than a decade, you managed to corner them against a wall. A group of clones came up on either side of the bounty hunter, trapping him.

“You put up a better fight than I expected,” you admitted, walking closer to the hunter with your duel daggers out. Once you got close enough, you knocked the gun out of his hands and pinned him against the floor. The clones watched closely as you dug your knee into his back and tied his hands together. “I’m sure the Republic will love hearing how you’ve tried to blow up this secret Sepratist weapon manufacturing hub,” you added, although the bounty hunter laughed in response.

“Not ‘tried to,’ love,” he chortled. You could hear the timer tick again, then stop. Realization dawned on you, and your eyes widened.

“Get to the ship!” you yelled, and dropped the bounty hunter. The blast would take care of him-- and you, if you didn’t move NOW.

Debris shot past your head as you rocketed out of the pub, the battalion of clones that the Jedi offered you to complete the mission following close behind. They shielded you with their armor as bits of the exploded pub shot through the air, but a sharp piece of metal managed to pierce the skin of your cheek. Adrenaline numbed the pain, and you made it back to the ship breathing hard, trying to drag in as much air as you could into your abused lungs.

As the clones filed into the spaceship, you looked back at the sight of your mission. All that was left was a smoking pile of debris. There was no way the bounty hunter had gotten out alive, and although the Senate would have liked to have him stand trial, your mission for the Jedi had been completed. Destroy the weapon factory.

Now all that was left to do was to make it back to the temple, without dying of blood loss first.

Holding your hand underneath your cheek, you tried catching as much blood in your hand as possible so that it didn’t get on the floor. Not that it mattered, this ship had seen enough blood in its days, but you’d rather not add to the mess the workers back at the temple would have to clean up. Doing so proved more difficult than anticipated, as you moved to close the door and then sit down at the piloting station and start the ship. Blood ran down your face fast, and soon your hand began to overflow.

Wiping your hand off on your shirt, you then tried soaking the blood up with your sleeve, although it mostly managed to smear further across your face. You’re not sure which slasher film victim you resembled once the Jedi council picked up your hologram message.

You relayed the details of the mission, and the outcome to Yoda. He looked pleased, and thanked you for taking on a mission the Jedi could not complete due to their busy schedules fighting the war. Before the call ended, he pointed out the obvious.

“Blood on your face, you have,” he said. “Medics when you return, will be sent.”

“There’s no need,” you assure him. “It’s just a scratch. Or two. But I can take care of it, the medics should stay with injured soldiers.”

“Very selfless, you are,” he bowed his head, and the call ended. Now that no one was watching you, you leaned back in your seat and blew out a long breath of air. Time to go home.

*****************************************************************************************************

Hyperspeed brought you over the planet of Coruscant in no time. Within 15 minutes of departing from the planet where the bounty hunter had been, you landed the ship carefully-- flying ships still made you nervous sometimes, although your boyfriend Anakin had certainly helped you gradually get over your fears-- and stepped out of the ship. You dropped to the ground of the docking bay, the blood in your head suddenly plummeting. Your vision went all fuzzy and your knees went weak, so you steadied yourself against the metal of the ship. Thankfully, someone else was there to catch you before you could fall and truly embarrass yourself.

“Woah,” Anakin met your waist with his mechanical arm, pulling you back to your feet. You met his blue eyes, which were swimming with concern. “What happened here?”

You touched your cheek with your fingertips, and they came away wet with crimson fluid once again. You frowned, thinking the bleeding had at least slowed in the time it took to get back. The cut must be deeper than you thought.

“I’ll be okay,” you told him, already anticipating his onslaught of mother-henning. Anakin was a worrier, understandably so regarding what happened with his mother, but you appreciated the fact that he cared.

“Y/n, your whole face is covered in blood,” he brought his flesh hand up to try and rub some blood off your uninjured cheekbone, frowning when it proved pointless. “Those cuts need to be looked at-- you’re coming with me.”

Before you could protest, Anakin whisked you away from the docking bay. Removing his hand from your waist so it wouldn’t raise suspicion with the other Jedi, he settled for taking your bloody hand in his and pulling you all the way to his quarters. He brought you into his bathroom, sat you down on the toilet, and handed you a wad of rolled up tissue paper to hold to your face as he dug through his cabinets for medical supplies. All the while, he chastised you for… well… everything.

“What happened? Why didn’t the medics meet you at the docking bay? Does the council know the extent of your injuries?”

“Yoda offered to send medics, but I told him not to. It’s really not that bad,” your voice is muffled by the tissue paper.

“What were you thinking? What if you bled out? What if you passed out before I could catch you? You could have hit your head. How did this happen in the first place?”

“Anakin, I’m fine,” you laughed, finding his worrying adorable. “Yeah it’s a lot of blood, but it doesn’t even hurt.” You pause. “...much.”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eyes for a moment, then went ripping back into his cabinet for pain killers. Filling up a glass of water with the Force while simultaneously opening up the pill bottle with his hands, you barely blinked before he thrust them into your bloody palms.

“Down the hatch. Now.” he ordered, and watched with his arms crossed as you slipped the pills past your lips and sipped the water. You laughed all the while, although it looked more like a grimace due to the fact that you couldn’t move your face much without a piercing pain. Once you swallowed, he knelt down to your level and gently covered the hand holding the tissue paper to your face with his, peeling it back to see the damage. You watched his eyebrows draw down, his lips curve into a pout as he inspected your wounds.

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” you tease him, hating the fear that flashed through his eyes.

That did the trick-- he flicked his gaze up to meet with yours, his annoyed glare hard and unyielding.

“Can you blame me for being concerned? I was waiting for you to come back so I could take you to a picnic I set up in the gardens, only to find you falling out of the ship, covered in blood, your face all slashed up, and on the verge of collapse. Anyone would be a little upset.”

“A picnic?” Your voice raised hopefully. “Ooh, that’ll be fun. I’ve never been on a picnic before.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not going anywhere until you’re all patched up. And even then, you’ve lost a lot of blood. Maybe we should push it back for sometime else.”

Anakin took the tissues from you and threw them in the garbage bin. He wet a cloth in the sink, then came back to stand in front of you. He tilted your face up to look at him as he began running the cloth over your face, gently cleaning the blood away.

“Where in the gardens were you thinking?” you ignored his plans on cancelling.

“The south end, with the red flowers you like so much. I moved some stuff around to block the path and shield us from view, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Always one step ahead,” you close your eyes so he can get your eyebrows and eyelids.

You could feel Anakin’s cool breath wash over your face as he sighed. The cloth moved to the injured half of your face, slowing and dropping in the pressure used as he cleaned around the cuts. Your eyes were closed, but you could practically sense the look he had on his face right now.

“You still never told me who did this to you.”

“The bounty hunter,” you kept your eyes closed, fighting back the urge to wince as the pain in your face heightened. He was being astronomically careful, but the wounds had to be cleaned and that meant pain, unfortunately for you. The least you could do now was mask it so that Anakin wouldn’t feel bad for hurting you. “He threw a knife at me and it hit me in the forehead. Then he blew up the pub and a piece of shrapnel hit my cheek.”

“Force,” he muttered under his breath. “You know I know you’re capable of carrying out these missions, but I still don’t like the prospect of you getting hurt like this.”

“I know, Ani,” you open your eyes to look at him. His face was as expected-- drawn eyebrows, pouty lips, dark curls shining in the bathroom light. He was beautiful, protective, and all yours. “I don’t have to remind you how hard it is to watch you leave for missions. You’re fighting a WAR out there.”

“So are you, now,” he dabbed at a spot of blood on your temple. “This mission with the weapon hub was the first of many for you. The council says so. They’ll only get harder from here on out, and I just don’t know how safe it is…”

“I’m no Jedi,” you tell him softly. “But I am a fighter. I can handle myself, you know. Plus, I have you to patch me up if I ever get hurt again.”

He rolls his eyes at your crooked smile.

“Plus,” you continue. “Maybe now they’ll send us on a mission together! Imagine us, side by side, kicking some Separatist ass. That’d be kinda cool, wouldn’t it?”

At this, Anakin rewarded you with a small sideways smile. “It would.”

Deciding your face had been cleaned as much as it could, he dropped the dirty washcloth into the sink and grabbed a tube of some kind of antibacterial ointment. He used his gloved hand to tilt your chin back up again, and began softly running his real finger over the cut on your forehead, spreading the ointment along with it.

“They don’t look deep enough for stitches, and I don’t think you’ll have any scarring. You got lucky in that case,” he mumbled as he concentrated on keeping his touch feather-light. “However, these aren’t just ‘cuts.’ They’re deep, and they’re gonna take some time to heal. Tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

Anakin captured your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, moving it so the injured half of your face was closer to him. You took the opportunity to shamelessly stare at your beautiful boyfriend, studying every flawless inch of his face. Sometimes you wonder why someone like him would choose to be with someone like you. He was never shy to tell you time and time again how beautiful YOU were, but you always rallied it back on to him in which he just laughed and shook his head at you. Stupid, protective, heroic, reckless, kind, stubborn, beautiful boy.

As Anakin smoothed some ointment over the gash on your cheekbone, you couldn’t help but flinch at the sharp stinging pain that flooded your face. Obviously the cheek had gotten hit the worst, and as the last of the adrenaline wore off, you were beginning to feel your whole face come alive with a pulsing sting.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin murmured, moving quickly to get the hard part over with. “The painkillers should start kicking in soon.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I can handle a bit of pain. Now, let me see how gorgeous I look.”

You pushed his hands off you and stood, swaying slightly on your feet but hiding it by gripping onto the sink under the mirror. With one look at yourself, it was hard to keep yourself from cringing at the gory mess your face had become.

Anakin was right-- the gashes on your skin were deeper than they seemed, and were a bright angry red. One ran from the middle of the your hairline to the edge of your brown, and the other started at the outside corner of your eye and travelled diagonal to the corner of your nose, then down near your mouth.

“It got your dimple,” Anakin frowned, washing his hands in the sink while studying your reaction in the mirror.

“I have another one,” you point to the uninjured side of your face.

He responded by kissing it softly, before moving past you to throw the empty ointment tube in the trash and to grab the gauze from the sink counter. He held it up and smiled with the corner of his mouth.

“Ready for the fun part?”

“Make me look cute, baby.”

He huffed at the pet name, but muttered anyway, “You always look cute.”

You stuck your bottom lip out and scrunched up your eyebrows. “Aaaaaww. You’re the sweetest! The sweetest little baby. Thank you, Ani.”

“Careful, or I’ll take it back,” he warned, carefully placing a square of gauze on your forehead. He ripped some tape off from the roll with the Force and gently smoothed it over your skin.

“So about this picnic,” you moved your face when he nudged your chin with his finger again. This had you staring at the wall now.

“Not happening.”

“Why?” you whined.

“You can barely stand without falling over. You need time to rest and heal up. The picnic can wait.”

“You don’t STAND at a picnic, Anakin.”

“You won’t be able to walk all the way there. And I can’t carry you without people asking questions.”

“I can make it there just fine! Plus, I don’t want all your hard work to go to waste.”

“Please,” he chuckled. “Moving a couple flower pots was not hard work.”

“But all the food you got…”

“I’ll have Obi-Wan retrieve it and bring it back for us. We can just stay here and eat it. Besides,” he used the Force to change the window from white to show the outside city of Coruscant. “It looks like it may rain.”

“Oh,” you study the gray clouds outside. “I love rain.”

“I know you do,” he smiled softly, smoothing down the last piece of gauze and tape on your cheek. When he finished, he enveloped the sides of your neck in his hands, using his fingers to push your head down. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the untouched skin on your forehead, breathing in your scent.

“I love you,” he said lowly before pulling away. You can’t help the grin that broke out on your face, the warmth from blossoming in your chest.

“Ow! Don’t make me smile,” you laugh through the pain, but bring your hands up to hold onto his wrists to keep him there anyway. “But I love you too. I really do.”

Anakin’s eyes shift to your hands holding onto him. His face darkens again, and he moves to hold your palms in his. “You’re still covered in blood. You wanna wash up here?”

You nod, and then lean back as he gets up to throw the rest of the supplies in the cabinets and then start readying the washing area. “Shower or bath?”

“Mmmmm bath please,” you decide, rolling your shoulders and feeling the uncomfortable stiffness plaguing your movements. Between the blood loss and your sore muscles, you don’t think you’ll be able to stand for very long.

While Anakin twisted the knobs in the shower to start the bath, you pushed yourself to your feet and pulled the ponytail from your falling-out hairdo, shaking your messy locks. A cute look, for sure-- all gauzed up like a paper mache volcano, hair falling wildly around your face like a lion’s mane, hands still caked in dried blood. A damn catch, if you’re being honest.

Anakin turned and moved toward the door to give you some privacy. “Uh, shampoo and everything is in there, towels are over there, just turn the bottom knob all the way to the right when you want the water off.” He opened the bathroom door and stepped out. “Shout if you need anything.”

As soon as the door closed, you yanked off your nasty shirt, followed by your bra and pants and underwear. It seemed like your blood had gotten everywhere on your clothes, even your boots, and you suddenly realized you didn’t know what you would wear when you got out.

A problem for a different moment, you decided, and stepped into the warm bath. Immediately, it was pure bliss, soothing your muscles and washing the sweat and dirt away. You got to work scrubbing the blood from under your fingernails first, then carefully dunked your hair and shampooed it to get the dried blood out of there too. Once you lathered your body up in soap, you decided to just soak for a while, turning the knob to slow to a trickle so the bath wouldn’t overflow.

Outside, you could here Anakin talk to Obi-Wan over hologram.

“--Yeah she’s here, pretty beat up but otherwise she’s fine. Hey, can I ask you a favor--” he then requested Obi-Wan clean up the picnic he had set up, being the only one who knew of your relationship, he was the only one who could without being suspicious. Obi-Wan agreed to bring the food over, and Anakin thanked him. A moment after they hung up, you heard a soft knock on the door.

“Y/n? I have some of the clothes you left here to wear, if you’d like.”

“Oh, yes please,” you closed the shower curtain so Anakin could come in without seeing your bruised body in all its naked glory.

“I’m leaving them on the counter,” he informed you. You could see his silhouette bend down to pick up your dirty clothes and boots, and then he left again. You sunk further into the water, the bubbles in the bath tickling your chin.

He was just so damn sweet.

You don’t know how long you stayed in the bath. Honestly, you think you might have fallen asleep at one point. You just loved being able to relax, knowing Anakin was right outside as you let the dripping water lull you into a peaceful meditative mode. The stinging in your face had dulled-- not disappeared, but it wasn’t a constant hum of pain anymore. You could honestly stay here like this forever.

However… the water was getting cold. And the darkening sky outside told you the rain would start soon, and you wanted to be in Anakin’s room where he had a big window overlooking the entire city to watch the storm.

Careful not to slip, you maneuvered your way out of the tub and wrapped yourself in a towel. You pulled the drain and made sure the water disappeared as you got dressed in the sleep shorts you kept in Anakin’s dresser for when you wanted to sleep over, as well as one of your sleep shirts and even a pair of your socks. You towel dried your hair, folded it up, and then hung it back up on the wall before opening the bathroom door to Anakin’s quarters. He was sitting on the couch, watching the skyline through the window when you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your chin in his soft curls as you scanned the storm clouds with him.

“Obi-Wan’s coming with the food, he should be here any minute now,” he told you, bringing a hand up to cover your own. “You wanna take this to the bedroom?”

“Oh, would I,” you waggled your eyebrows, smirking with the good half of your face.

He chuckled and stood, keeping your hand in his. “You know what I mean.”

“Take me, Anakin Skywalker,” you begged wistfully as he walked across the apartment to his bedroom with you in tow. “You know you want to.”

“I know I want to,” his tone was serious despite your joking one. He closed the door behind you with the force, and then led you to sit on his bed. You crawled up onto the covers and crossed your legs, wondering where he was going with this.

He stood before you and rested his hands on your knees, keeping you rooted to the spot. You watched his chest get closer as he leaned in close, his lips near your ear, and you could feel his breath tickle your neck, raising goosebumps on your arms. You sat, wide-eyed and staring at the golden skin of his collar bone, barely breathing, awaiting his next move.

“Too bad Obi-Wan just got here with the food,” he whispered, and planted a warm kiss underneath your ear before pulling away. He left with a cocky grin, leaving you frozen on the bed so he could retrieve the supplies from Obi-Wan.

“Jesus…” you muttered, pressing a hand to your chest to stop your heart from beating so quick. No doubt Anakin could sense it.

Once the heat from your cheeks cooled and your heartbeat returned to normal, you laid back on Anakin’s bed and stretched out like a starfish. Your muscles protested, but it felt good to be on the soft, cushiony material of his bed.

“Some food for you, m’lady,” Anakin held a sandwich over your face when he returned, and you lifted your hands to take it from him. You immediately began eating it, not realizing at first how hungry you were. It had been over 24 hours since you’d left for the mission and had last eaten.

As you ate your sandwich, Anakin picked at some grapes and walked around the room, waving his arm over the wall to switch it to the window. Rain pattered against the glass now, droplets racing each other to the bottom. He adjusted the temperature in the room, and then began fiddling with one of the many new contraptions he’d been tinkering with, and then began to undress. You tore your eyes away from the storm clouds to watch him set his lightsaber on the desk, then unclasp his belt and set it beside the saber, followed by the tunic which left him in a loose fitting shirt and his pants.

He ran his hands through his curls as he walked the clothes over to his closet, and then started messing with the thermostat again.

“Would you just come here and sit with me already?” you moan, throwing your sandwich scraps in the trash. Anakin turned to look at you from his place across the room.

“One moment…”

You waited patiently, and soon you felt the bed dip beside you and you sat up to scooch over and give him more room. He passed a cupcake your way-- chocolate, your favorite-- and then brought a glass of dark red liquid up to his lips.

“Is that wine?” you laugh through a mouthful of cupcake. He narrowed his eyes, but smiled at your awkward facial expression anyway.

“Am I not allowed to drink wine in my own home?”

“You are, I just didn’t peg you as a wine type of guy,” you admit.

Anakin shrugged, then brought the bottle over to his free hand with the force. “You want some?”

You and Anakin then sat and watched the storm, sipping wine and eating chocolate cupcakes. A perfect way to end a shitty mission.

#anakin #anakinskywalker #injured reader #whump #caretaker anakin #blood and injury #soft anakin #secret relationship #fluff #worried anakin #protective anakin #playful reader #rain #baths #cupcakes #wine #badass reader

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crimsonheart01 · 4 years ago

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Bells Are Ringing (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

A/N: Full disclosure here, I haven’t watched past Season 8. Don’t come for me! Also, I know how it ends so spoilers aren’t an issue for me. Anyways, thank you @may85 for the request! I hope you love it!

Prompt: 19. “You really want a pair of fuzzy socks?”

Word Count: 2.2K words

Playlist: Christmas All Over Again - Tom Petty [Spotify] [YouTube]

Warnings: Supernatural and Paranormal things, guns and minor violence.

"Everybody's singing All the bells are ringing out And it's Christmas all over again." Christmas All Over Again – Tom Petty

It was freezing outside while she stood on the loading dock. The Winchester brothers were due to meet her here, and they were, of course, running late. She rubbed her mittened hands together, hoping to get some extra friction and warmth back into her fingers. With a puffed-out exhale, she lifted her hands to her toque and tugged it down before laying her mittens over her cheeks. She swayed from foot to foot, keeping herself from keeling over in the bitter cold while she waited.

Finally, after what felt like several hours, she heard the chug of the impala as it rounded the corner and came to a stop a few away from her. She waved at the brothers and hopped down off the ledge. As she reached the car, Dean rolled his window down, and she pulled off one mitten to let him splash her with holy water, confirming that she was safe. She pulled out her own vial from inside her pocket and sprayed it on the boys.

The spluttered as she did it, having given them no warning. She laughed and leaned down onto the windowpane and grinned at them. She knew they didn't need the holy water test, as long as they showed her the tattoos, but she liked to spice things up. Catch them off guard.

"So glad you could make it," She sassed, touching on the point that they were late.

Sam laughed, "Blame my brother. He refused to pull away until we had the right soundtrack playing."

She nodded and gently shoved Dean's shoulder, "It's always gotta be you holding us up, huh?"

He shifted the car into park and rolled his eyes at the two of them, "You can stop with the theatrics. We're here, aren't we?"

He started rolling the window up, forcing her to back off while she protested in jest but stepped away from the car. When he opened the door, she came to stand next to him, giving him a tender smile.

"It's good to see you again, Winchester."

He sighed, reaching over and wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

"You too," He smiled, letting her know he wasn't put off by her teasing, "I was surprised when you called me up. I didn't know you were up here in Chicago."

She shrugged as they rounded the car, and Sam popped the trunk open.

"Been keeping busy and on the move." She explained, "I was just relieved you two were close by. I was not interested in doing this particular job alone."

They both smiled over at her. All three of them understanding the implications of going up against a higher-level demon alone. If there was anyone well versed in the subject, it was the Winchester boys.

Running through their plan one last time, they slammed the trunk shut and quietly made their way into the department store to get their trap put into motion.

~(SPN)~

She ducked quickly as the explosion rang out across the floor. She crouched down, peering under the racks of clothing to scan for anything coming towards her. She couldn't see Dean anymore due to them splitting up. She tucked her shotgun in the front of her jacket and began crawling forward, careful to keep a weather eye out for any possible pursuers.

She stopped, realizing it had gotten too quiet, and a cold chill ran up her spine. She shut her eyes and shook her head at the rotten luck.

"Shit." She swore, taking a chance and peering over her shoulder.

The damn thing was only a few metres away from her, staring menacingly. Letting out an audible exhale, she jumped up and started running. It chased after her, sending hangers of clothing flying in its wake. She ripped the gun out of her jacket and cocked it as she took off, swerving around aisles, hoping to lose her tail. Where the hell was Dean? She frantically thought to herself.

A whole rack of pants flew inches past her head, and she dropped down, covering her hands over her head. This had to have been the worst laid out plan the brothers had ever come up with. She heard Sam's shout from several aisles over, and she chanced popping up to try and spot him. He hollered at her to take cover as another rack of clothing went sailing on by.

She scrambled over clothing that had been tossed around until she made it to the clearing down the middle of the department store. She could see both Sam and Dean with their backs leaned against the shelves, peering over their shoulders. Sam was deliberately shooting rounds off in the wrong direction, hoping for some semblance of a distraction while Dean was watching its pursuit. She locked eyes with Dean, and they both understood that it was gaining on her. Regardless, the plan was still working.

Seeing that it was getting too close, Dean popped up and spun around, facing her with his shotgun cocked and aimed. With little to no warning, he fired, and she threw herself sideways, down an aisle of shelves. She crouched into a ball, holding her hands over her head as the boys continued to fire round after round. She was sure that Sammy had switched up his diversion tactics and was now engaged in the same fight as his brother.

She whipped around, laying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling where they drew the trap. She counted the remaining steps needed to trap their little friend, but of course, nothing went smoothly. As she began shimmying down the aisle, hoping to reach her destination, something grabbed her ankle, and she screamed.

"It brought a friend!" She kicked out, trying to dislodge its grip on her.

All it did was laugh and continue to pull her closer to itself. She had no idea if either brother heard her, and she knew they had a mission to get the other demons stuck in the trap. She began to swear in repetition, reaching around for her gun, but as she went to shoot, the demon knocked it out of her hand. Realizing that it'd let go of her, she clambered back up, and they both scrambled towards her weapon.

They both lunged, grabbing opposite ends of her gun. She tugged, but the demon used her own strength against her and smashed the butt of the weapon into her shoulder. She groaned and flipped over. Delving into her jacket pocket, she grasped for the flask of holy water she had.

"HEY!" She heard Sam yell.

That caught the demon's attention, and she took her chance, dumping her holy water over its face. The demon screamed, and as she righted herself, Dean came running up. He gave her a quick glance, asking her silently if she was okay. She nodded in response, and together they hauled up the demon and dragged it over into the same trap where they'd managed to get the other one into.

They let the demons stew in their predicament for a short time while the brothers questioned them. She knew there was information that they were collecting, but she didn't need to stick around and hear about it. Instead, she left them to their interrogation while she went back to the aisle where she'd dropped a few of her things. Walking through the shelves, she spotted her gun and picked it back up.

As she turned to head back to the brothers, she spotted row upon row of the most garish socks she'd ever laid eyes on.

"Hey Dean," She called out, bending to pick up the neon-coloured ones, "Did you mean it when you said you really want a pair of fuzzy socks?"

Dean spun around as her head popped back up over the shelves, his face screwed up in confusion. She watched as the second and final demon was exercised behind him before gracing him with a brilliant smile. She strolled on back to them and tossed the package of ugly socks over to him. He caught them with a bewildered expression.

She laughed at him and winked, "Merry Christmas, Winchester. Consider that my thank you and payment for helping me out."

Sam broke out into laughter as he spotted the neon green in the pack, and together, she and Sam left Dean to stand there astounded by the sheer madness of her whole statement.

"Come on, Dean," Sam yelled back to his brother.

~(SPN)~

Once they'd gotten outside, Sam gave her a hug goodbye, telling her he hoped to see her soon and then ducked back into the impala. Dean nodded to his brother, communicating in only a way that they could before he fell into step next to her. He was taking a spare moment to walk with her back to her car.

She chuckled over at him, "You didn't have to come with me, y'know."

He shrugged, his hands firmly encased in his jacket pockets, "I know, but after what happened in there, it'd make me feel better knowing you got to your car without any hassles."

She shook her head in delight. With all the adrenaline out of her system, she was spooked by how easily she'd been overpowered by the demon but was glad to have the brothers with her. It was precisely why she called them in the first place.

Instead of admitting to any of that vulnerability, she joked, "When are you going to admit you like me?"

A quick smile graced Dean's features, but he stayed quiet. She hadn't realized how bothered he was by the snag in their operation.

She paused, looking over at him and touched a hand to his forearm, "I'm okay, Dean. We got everything sorted back there."

He let out a scoff and nodded his head. This time he let his fake smile linger, also not wanting to dwell on the scare he'd gotten. They worked with a lot of hunters over the years, but she was one of the ones that he thought about often, to the point where they messaged each other on a semi-regular basis. He probably knew her as well as Sam. That's how close they'd gotten over the years. As her car came into view, Dean nudged her shoulder with his. She knocked his back playfully, and they stopped in front of the vehicle.

"How long are you staying in town for?" Dean asked her.

She shook her head with a shrug, "Making my way out in the morning. Thinking of heading south. I've never been a huge fan of winter."

He smiled at her, nodding. He recalled the several jobs they'd done together over the years. She had always been vocal in her dislike of the cold. She pulled out her keys and pressed the button to unlock the car.

"Thanks again for the help," She smiled.

Dean nodded, "No problem. I'm pretty sure Sammy missed you anyway."

She let out a single chuckle at that. It was probably true, but she knew more than anything that he was alluding to the fact that he also missed her. She turned to get into the car but pivoted. If he was willing to let some of his own feelings for her bleed into his reactions, then she could afford to show him one of her weaknesses. Feeling bold with her decision, she took the chance.

Dean had already turned away and was about to walk away when she laid her hand on the crook of his arm. He stopped, looking down at her hand and then back up to her. She leaned in and pressed a cool kiss to his cheek. She felt him freeze under her touch, but she lingered, wanting him to know how much he meant to her. How much him caring about her well-being meant to her.

As she pulled back, he stopped her by pulling one hand out of his pockets and framing her cheek with it. She tilted her head to the side, staring at him in curiosity. He licked his bottom lip, and with a curt nod, he bowed in toward her, locking lips. She felt her knees give way as he softly kissed her. He wasn't demanding with it, nor was he flimsy. It was just right—a perfect show of his hidden affections.

She responded in kind, lifting the tiniest amount onto her tiptoes. They stayed locked together for another long few moments, soaking up all they could of each other. When they finally broke apart, she kept her eyes closed, licking her lips and memorizing the feel of his mouth against hers.

She opened her eyes to see him smiling warmly at her.

"Let's not wait so long to see each other again," He murmured, "Okay?"

She grinned and nodded in agreement, "Yeah. See you around, Winchester."

He winked at her and watched as she settled herself behind the wheel of her car before turning on his heel and making his way back. She glanced up before driving off and booked when he pulled the top of the package of those stupid socks from the inside of his jacket. She bit down on her lip, a feeling of warmth flushing through her, knowing that even though it was a joke, he'd keep them just because they were from her.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester imagine #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #12 days of ficmas 2020 #holiday prompts

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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Humans are Space Orcs, “Cowboy.”

Wanted to try something new. Aliens meet different ways of living. Was trying to really capture the small town farming feel in this one. Granted I grew up in and near places like this but was from the burbs technically, so, lol, hopefully I did it justice.

The sky over Jakar was a light violet purple.

Strings of long striated clouds cut across the sky at intervals looking like the ripples you see on the face of a sand dune. The Sun hadn’t yet risen hiding just below the distant horizon. The air around them was warm, but not tropical, rather moderate.

Standing on the loading ramp to the Harbinger and staring out over the strange moon, they could see for miles and miles onto the unbroken horizon. Under the purple sky, there were no trees or rocks, just acres and acres of evenly spaced crops gently rolling over minute hills and shallow divots in the earth. A gently wind blew up from their front rolling over the ground and bringing with it the cool moist scent of fertile dirt.

The sun inched upwards over the horizon, casting a honeyed yellow glow over an unbroken sea of green. With the engines of the ship off, and not a soul in sight, the scene before them was absolutely silent, almost surreal.

As they watched, a ripple of wind blew up from their right churning the green sea before them into a stormy sea. The plant stalks rolled in waves under the slow push of the wind, which, when it reached them, brought the subtle whisper of leaves brushing over each other.

All together, if they closed their eyes, they could almost imagine the sound of a distant sea.

Both Krill and sunny were riveted to that quiet morning in fascination.

They had never known a thing to be so beautiful, so quiet.

And even though the land was touched by man, the quiet serenity almost had them forgetting that fact.

They stood like that for many minutes, enjoying the silence until a distant sound rose up from the horizon.

Krill craned his neck and Sunny shaded her eyes.

It can in beats of four, a rhythmic thudding of…. something .

They were alerted by the dust cloud, brown tinged purple rising up from the right.

Looking a little longer,they watched as a very strange creature galloped towards them. The animal had four legs, a long snout, a thick neck, and streams of long hair flying from it’s head and rump. THe joints of its front legs faced the wrong direction.

Krill shifted back up the ramp a little ways.

The beats of the animal’s feet grew louder as it got closer, and only then was Krill able to see that, to his shock and dismay, there was a human riding astride it’s back, just casually sitting atop the one ton beast as if it was nothing bouncing up and down with the animal’s jostling movements.

He stared dumbstruck alongside Sunny as the human pulled to a stop gently tugging at the contraption which had been fixed around the animal’s head.

A familiar tawny, and black dog came chasing after her tail wagging, her ears perked.

Waffles skidded to a slow trot and began frantically sniffing through the nearby plot of plants.

Sunny and Krill stepped forward as the human, turned to look at them, restings his hands against his upper thighs as the beast lowered it’s head to sniff at the ground.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Sunny asked the commander.

“A better question is what the hell are you riding.” Krill could already tell this day was going to make him angry, “Aren't you well aware that falling off that thing could kill you, not to mention if it decided to cave your head in with its feet.”

Commander Vir pulled the patterned cloth triangle down from around his face, eyes mostly shadowed by the brim of the very dorky hat he was wearing. The shirt he had on was long sleeve and mid range blue in color with a collar, and matching jeans with a very strange set of heeled boots.

“Forgot you've never seen a horse before.”

He kicked one of his feet up over the top the back of the creature and let himself gently down onto the dirt.

The large animal turned it’s massive head, nudging him in the chest with it’s soft pink snout.

He smiled and rubbed it’s nose.

“A horse?”

“Yes, one of man’s greatest achievements.”

The horse threw its head up and down as if in agreement.

“A knobby kneed dog creature?”

“No a knobby kneed beast of burden, from the back of which humanity conquered the world. He patted it’s neck, “These guys are the reason humanity got as far as it did, at least one fo the reasons.

Krill stared at the ‘horse’ nervously staring into its wide dark eyes, sensing a hint of cunning intelligence that he did not particularly appreciate. Sunny stepped forward a bit, and the horse lifted it’s head, wide nostrils flaring menacingly.

It stepped back, and the commander held firm, “Woah, easy girl. It’s just sunny.”

The horse didn’t seem convinced, and Sunny stayed at a polite distance.

“Commander, I must insist, that beast could kick your head in if agitated.”

“Oh I know. Believe you me I know.”

The horse tossed it’s head.

“Can we get back to the important question of….. What the hell are you wearing?”

He looked down, “This, my fine friend is the historic gear of the Cowboy, and early symbol of the west, your rough and tumble man’s man who lived rough, worked hard, and is, arguably the symbol of human manifest destiny.”

“I have no idea what you just said.”

The commander sighed, “Look they were total badasses who rode horses, shot guns, and drank too much.”

“Badasses who wore heels?” Sunny wondered

“Yes, yes they were.”

“And where did you get that outfit exactly?”

He tugged at the shirt rather proudly, “My mother made it for me, you know because that is what she does for a living.”

“Do you often commission really dumb clothing from your mother.” Sunny continued to tease.

“I have an outfit for every major time period from here to to the early Byzantine empire.” He bragged, not that it meant anything.

Her continued teasing was cut off as more noises rose up from the distance, the sound of hooves and the shrill chatter of, what Sunny could only assume was the horses. A larger dust cloud was riding up this time, and as she watched, another group of human came riding down the track. At least three of them riding horseback and wearing outfits much the same as the commander now wore. Though one of them was riding on the front of a strange wooden vehicle pulled by the creatures.

And krill had thought current human technology was primitive.

The two men, and one woman came to a halt just to their side, and looking them over, Krill couldn't help but notice the strange nature of these humans, tanned dark by the sun, their skin tough and calloused, especially about the hands. Though it was early morning they were already covered in dust. One of them touched the brim of his hat upon seeing them and dismounted from his horse walking over to shake the commander’s hand.

“I’m gonna assume your Commander Vir.” He looked around, “Seeing as you’re the only human here.”

“Yes sir.”

His voice was deep, and rather slow with a sort of relaxing quality to it, though there was an edge of steel behind his voice, “Didn’t think you fancy space captains knew how to ride horses.”

“My father worked on one of the farming conglomerates when I was a boy. He made sure we knew how to ride.”

“Smart man.” The old human turned his steely brown eyes on them looking sunny and Krill up and down though he didn’t seem all that surprised. He held out a hand to sunny, “Looks like you’ve got plenty of hands to shake.”

She chirped a laugh and took his hand surprised at how strong he was, how rough his hands were.

Krill received a nod which was more than alright by him. He turned back and motioned to his companions, “Meet, Jack my son, and Liz y daughter. They volunteered to help out with our little problem.”

“Smugglers you were saying.”

“Yes. We think they are some of those Tesraki types using our fields as stop points. Wouldn’t mind it so much if they didn’t keep destroying the product. They tend to land where we plant the pink orbs-” He looked at sunny, “Think they are from your planet. A bitch to get to grow here, we have to cut the soil with imported volcanic ash to get them to grow, and every time those bastards show up we lose a yield.”

His daughter motioned at Sunny and Krill to climb up onto the strange wooden death machine with wheels. At first Krill refused, but sunny grabbed him and hauled him upwards, sitting on one of the wooden benches.

Krill reused to sit.

He could see splinters.

“They aren’t supposed to be in for another few days though.” The two men had mounted their horses and were riding side by side now as the ‘what krill learned to be a cart’ started up, rolling over the uneven ground and threatening to rattle his brains out of his head.

“Doesn’t this thing have shocks.” he moaned

The humans laughed, and the head human turned back to look at him, “Don’t need socks on a wagon…..” He paused, “This one ain’t mch for country livin’”

The commander snorted, “He isn’t much for anything new. Guess you could say he’s a big city surgeon. I don’t think his species has been without automated assistance for the past ten thousand years. But Sunny there probably gets it, her clan was mainly gatherer types.”

“Yeah, I heard about the Drev. Don’t live so differently from us all told.” beside them lines and lines of crops grew up in the distance, a never ending line broken up by nothing more than a distant building rising many stories above the fields. Massive silver constructions in cylinders with pointy tops.

“What are those?” Sunny asked, pointing.

The daughter looked “Those are silos. Once we harvest the produce, all the food goes in there for storage until we sell it.”

“So much food.” Sunny muttered

Krill didn’t like the look of them, they appeared dangerous. Up ahead of them, the dog, waffles seemed to be enjoying herself romping about over the dirt road and through the first few lines of plants her tongue lolling her ears up.

“Your Shepherd seems happy.” The man commented, “Better then being cooped up in a flying tin can.”

“Yeah , she doesn’t get to go outside much these days.”

Looking up into the distance, Krill could just make out a slow break on the horizon. They were trees as far as he could tell, which surprised him since they seemed far to big to be here, as unnatural a species as they were.

“Are those oak trees?” The Captain asked, incredulous.

“That they are, got them imported in one of those massive fraighters. Putting them in the ground was complete bullshit, but they took surprisingly well. We wanted the two to be a bit more cozy.

The closer they got to town the more people they could see. Children ran in and out of the crop lines chasing each other and laughing.

Women carried baskets with them plucking bright red berries from tall growths of plants turning to wave at them as they passed.

Horses loitered, tied up on the sides of the road next to large, elegant houses in a style Krill had never seen before.

“Wow.” The commander muttered, “This is…. Wow.”

The man smiled, “Much as I love earth, you can’t live like this any more. No more small towns. When I heard how cheep they were selling land up here for, I couldn’t resist. Worked for one of those corporations like your father, and that’s when I heard about the deal going on. Come up here, farm the land and get the property for free.” He motioned to the houses and the barns, “Built most of it with our own two hands. Machinery is a bitch to get out here, so most everything we make by ourselves.”

Krill and sunny stared on in complete fascination. The wooden buildings held together by nothing more than sharp metal spikes, still multiple stories tall and with glass windows. What little technology there was was overshadowed by just how provincial everything was. People carrying buckets of water with their own two hands, polishing boots, and sawing off planks of wood with manual blades.

And despite that, how much more difficult everything probably was, they seemed happy. The people themselves were rough, but well put together, tanned skin, and bright eyes over calloused hands and straight backed postures full of confidence and pride. As they rode past they received nothing but friendly smiles and waved greetings.

Adam was practically a pampered, prim little pretty boy in comparison to the rest, and he was a one eyed, peg legged, space captain for intents and purposes.

A pleasantly plump dark skinned woman waved at them from her porch, where she sat in a very strange looking chair, which instead of legs, had skids? And rocked when she shifted her weight. Which seemed to be the intention.

Sunny and Krill raised their hands back, not sure of what else to do.

The man at the front sighed, “Man you can’t live like this anymore, not on earth anyway.”

Commander vir was looking around with an appreciative smile, “it’s like going back in time. Dam…. it’s nice here.”

“Almost makes you want to get your feet back on solid dirt?” The man wondered

The commander laughed, “I don’t think so. Your town is great, but there is nothing like the majesty of waking up and seeing the rings of saturn outside our bedroom window, or a nebulae thousands of light years wide, or stepping out of the ship and just…. Floating weightless like nothing can hold you down ever again.”

The man shuttered, “Can’t imagine.”

“Can’t imagine but can’t forget.”

Adam’s horse tossed it’s head and he patted it on the neck.

The other human shook his head, “Cut from a different mold I guess. I’d like nothing more than an honest day’s work under the sun getting my hands dirty. None of that outer space politics.”

Adam laughed, “I suppose I forget about politics most of the time. Honestly consider myself more of an adventurer discovering new planets and new species bravely going where no man has gone before sort of thing.”

The two of them laughed together.

Krill wondered at the strangeness of humanity. Here were two men, one of them a ship captain venturing into the unknown on one of the most advanced pieces of human technology ever created flying shuttles, talking with aliens and traversing the galaxy, while there was another human a lover of dirt beneath his hands, with no desire to leave his home, or likely even go outside it’s farm’s radius, content with living the same day for the rest of his life, with the same people, building everything with his hands, living without what seemed to be the most basic of human technologies.

And here they were sitting together speaking and laughing.

Getting along despite being so different.

Because humans can just do that.

Humans understand.

#humans are insane #HUMANS ARE WERID #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #Earth is space Ausralia #earth is a deathworld

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blushnote · 5 years ago

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can i request vampire daddy!vernon coming home to find you touching yourself (a big no no when vernon isn't home) so he's 100% ready to pop out his fangs and take you over his knee, leading to the kinkiest sex you've ever had with him

↳ requested | 3.7k

↳ vampire!hansol smut

a/n: you have no idea how much i enjoyed writing this!! i am a HUGE FUCKING FAN of vampire!au’s lol. warnings for this fic include use of handcuffs, mouth gag, unprotected sex, and of course, mentions of blood. there’s also an instance of spitting sjsjsj sorry i had to!

maybe you’ll regret this decision, but in the meantime, the need to touch yourself outweighs the possibility of consequence. hansol isn’t home. in fact, you have not a single clue as to where he could be. it’s very typical of him to disappear at random, for long durations that you suspect you want no part of. he’s a vampire, and vampires associate with awfully gruesome things.

it’s nighttime beyond the stillness of the house, and you lie sprawled out across the bed, staring vacantly upon the ceiling while a warm, pulsing ache flutters between your thighs. you’re hardly dressed, wearing only a small pair of baby pink underwear and a navy-blue hoodie that belongs to hansol. his scent clings strongly to the fabric, and you breathe him in generously.

you know the rule like the back of your palm: don’t touch yourself while hansol is away. of course, rules were made to be broken, which precisely corresponds to how your hand drifts beneath the pink underwear, your fingertips brushing against your slit in order to feel the insane amount of arousal that collects. you release a long, alleviated sigh at the sweet contact.

planting your feet on the mattress, your knees bend and you spread your legs apart, loving how the cool air caresses your balmy skin. pulling the hoodie above your hips, you use one hand to open your folds while the other begins massaging circles against the hood of your clit. it feels magnificent, even more so when you shut your eyes and imagine hansol’s fingers instead.

as the house in empty, you’re consequently shameless, whimpering out the boy’s name in repetitive, breathy hymns. your fingers push gently past your slit, covering them in a light coating of gloss which you use to slick your sensitive bud. applying a sterner pressure, you resume rubbing in a circular pattern, all while your hips occasionally jerk in sparks of pleasure.

“yes, j-just like that! please hansol, please make me cum, i need it so bad…”

the conversation spews from your lips, though you’re talking to nothing but empty air. for a mere instance, you imagine the sharp dagger of his fangs scraping hard against your neck, his fingers curling inside you while his thumb brushes back and forth over your sore clit. your own hand begins working faster, driving you closer toward a beautiful, much needed afterglow.

“m-more, hansol! please, please let me cum on your fingers—ff-fuck, it feels so good!”

“does it feel good, baby? does it feel good touching yourself even when i told you not to?”

immediately your eyes fly open, your fingers stop pressing down on your clit, and the tip of your climax subsides like an emptying stream. the breath gets caught in your windpipe and your legs suction shut. standing right beside the bed is none other than fucking hansol, who gauges you with a vicious glint in his eyes, which are the same colour as flame mixed with honey.

you always forget that he’s as silent as a feather. it’s something you’ve never gotten used to.

“i-i’m so s-sorry! i just—i didn’t know that—i thought you’d be home by— i’m sorry!”

it feels like someone is clamping your tongue between their fingers, enabling you from explaining yourself. you shuffle up the bed, the slippery gloss still shining on your hand while you embarrassingly fumble for any sort of coherency. hansol watches you menacingly, as though you’re a piece of prey he’s going to tear into slowly. you can only swallow and sweat.

hansol leans down, hovering close to your face, his acute senses probably allowing him to hear just how quickly your heart drums as well as intensely smell the sticky pool between your thighs. he tilts your chin up slightly with an index finger, a dangerous, inhumane smirk curling from one corner lip to the other. you anticipate you’re in for the biggest ruin of your entire life.

he then chuckles huskily, running his tongue across his pointed teeth. “oh, my pretty baby, you know i can’t forgive you, darling, hm? you know i have to punish you, make you learn your fucking lesson. you know that, sweetheart. now,” he leans in closer, “what do you say?”

hansol smiles in complete satisfaction when you gulp down the enormous lump in your throat, responding with an obedient, “i understand, daddy. i deserve to be punished.”

your compliancy delights hansol to infinite ends, though it doesn’t dilute from the fact you were unable to restrain your hedonism. an accumulation of anticipation and fear creates a torrent in your lower tummy. you’ve never broken this particular rule before. you’re clueless as to what hansol’s punishment entails, until he digs into the bedside table, revealing a pair of metal cuffs.

“get the fuck over here.” hansol commands, his eyes blazing as he takes a seat on the bed.

immediately, you rid yourself of the hoodie and position yourself across hansol’s lap, your cheek pressing against the grey comforter while your bottom pokes slightly into the air. nervously, your fingers are clasped together at your back. it isn’t long before you feel the cold metal lock around each wrist, effectively restricting your movement.

the bedroom air grazes your skin. your bare body is on complete display, your tiny, pink pair of underwear revealed, and consequently, the soaked patch to which your arousal had permeated the fabric. you can’t help but squirm and hold your breath, feeling his hands knead your ass, knowing his gaze is singeing directly into your sopped underwear.

“messy little girl, aren’t you?” hansol hums, stroking his knuckles back and forth in a delicate motion, teasing along your aching pussy. “can’t even wait, huh?” he suddenly draws his hand back, a hard, electric slap causing your body to jolt forward. “can’t even fucking wait until daddy is home to touch you.” hansol’s palm rains down again, and a cry erupts from your lips.

however, the boy doesn’t respond cordially to your noises.

“keep your mouth shut,” hansol threads his fingers through your hair, slightly pulling up on your scalp while he growls into your ear, “or i’ll gag that pretty fucking mouth of yours. understand?”

it rapidly dawns on you which type of mood hansol is in. he’s usually domineering to a certain extent, but it’s been a long while since he’s last threatened to gag you. it makes perfect sense when you then consider the fact that hansol hasn’t fed for more than a month. he only drinks from you occasionally, knowing how easy it is to take too much and make a fatal mistake.

once you nod in response, hansol releases the intense grasp on your scalp and his hand returns to gently squeezing the burning flesh of your ass. he soothes the sting for no more than a minute before his palm is again smacking down brutally, a painful wave flaring at the area in which he’d struck. you bury your face into the sheets, not wanting to release even a peep.

“daddy is so upset with you, princess,” hansol remarks in a sorrowed tone, his hand continuing to ripple hard and lightning fast against your skin, “i know how much it hurts when i’m not there to touch you, baby. i know you get restless—,” hansol hardly gives you a moment to breath before he’s striking that same sore spot, “but that’s no excuse, and you know this.”

your bottom lip is tingling and raw from your teeth biting into it so fiercely. each slap is nearly harder than its counterpart, forcing a silver lining to wet your eyes. you hate disappointing hansol, you hate knowing he’s upset with you, and you wish for nothing more than to abide by his instructions and remain silent; however, every seam inside you is slowly breaking apart.

his merciless treatment doesn’t ease your dilemma either. he keeps slapping your abused flesh, until the area becomes increasingly numb yet so sensitive to the pain that your body begins quivering across his lap. the slick between your thighs is abundantly shimmering, dripping in sweet trails and wetting hansol’s pants. his palm flies down again, and this time you erupt.

a high-pitched cry slices through the air. no matter how much you force your cheek into the mattress, you can’t sink or hide any further. hansol is rigid beneath you.

“didn’t i tell you to keep your mouth shut?” his voice comes out in a snarl.

embarrassingly, you nod your head.

“that’s the second time you broke a fucking rule.” hansol’s warm breath then tickles the cusp of your ear, “what’s wrong with you, huh? you like pissing me off, princess? you want me to punish you, fuck your tight, sweet little cunt until you can’t even walk, is that it?”

your heart is racing on pure adrenaline. severely unsure on whether to shake your head or simply bob in agreement, you accidentally release another tiny, conflicted squeak, one that rasps demurely from your lips. hansol snuffs angrily at that. before you can process what’s happening, there’s a tearing noise that has your head raising alarmingly from the bed.

the realization that hansol had just tore your underwear off doesn’t register until he’s pulling your head back with a hand wrapped firmly beneath the column of your throat. the light pink material presses into your mouth, and you’re left in a haze as the cloth effectively prohibits much noise from escaping your lips. hansol seems satisfied, his hand gently rubbing your ass.

he lends you another deep smack, scoffing at the way your fingernails scar crescent indents to the flesh of your palms, how you’re already trembling and leaving damp blotches on his jeans. in fact, as the cool air brushes against your slicked, throbbing core, you recall how your earlier orgasm had been justly purloined. you bite harshly into the fabric when hansol touches you.

“hmm, so wet, aren’t you?” the boy purrs, his tongue running along his razor-sharp teeth while he easily glides two fingers between your folds.

just for a moment, hansol massages tender circles to your clit, and your hips jerk in reaction to the new warm, embers of pleasure. he grins devilishly, “you like when daddy touches you here? right on this pretty spot?” he applies more pressure, and it feels inconceivably relieving. hansol chuckles low in his throat, “you’re shaking, sweetheart. you wanna cum all over my fingers?”

his statement isn’t far from the truth, and yet, any bliss is instantly snuffed out as hansol removes his touch, just as you could feel the liquid-heat begin to spread. you nearly mewl in frustration, though the makeshift gag in your mouth blocks the dying wisp of sound.

“not yet, angel.” hansol teases. “not until daddy fucks you apart on his cock.”

the next thing you know, hansol has you maneuvered so you’re face-down-ass-up into the pillows, the metal cuffs clinking at your spine as hansol nudges your legs further apart. you can hear him undressing, how he tosses each article onto the floor until his pale, hard body is completely bare. you squirm in anticipation, knowing how utterly helpless you remain.

however, rather than his cock at your entrance, you’re left startled and overwhelmed by pleasure as hansol leans down, instead using the tip of his tongue to lick a wet strip up your pussy. your jaw tenses around the gag, and your eyes squeeze shut upon hansol continuing to lave his slick, soft tongue against the flesh. he closes his mouth around your clit and suckles.

your hips immediately grind back against his face in utmost desperation. hansol’s brassy laugher rumbles deep into your core, just before he pulls away, not wanting to allow you more appeasement than necessary. as he gets onto one knee, a hand stroking his cock, and positions himself behind you, there’s a wicked gleam in the honeyed flame of his eyes.

“i couldn’t resist, sweetheart. the way you’re fucking dripping… just your scent is making it hard for me to contain myself.”

you already know he’s thinking about sinking his fangs deep into your tender, pliable skin.

his cock presses against your entrance. of course, hansol spends ample time teasing, simply running the swollen head between your slippery folds and tapping himself against your clit. yet, he leaves not on ounce of time for you to adjust when he finally decides to push himself inside you. immediately, he hits deep, to which you can feel his cock throbbing against your abdomen.

“ff-fuck,” hansol grits between his teeth, his hands locket-tight around your hips in order to keep you in place, “fuck, your pretty cunt is s-so warm, s-so fuckin’ t-tight… g-god…”

he slurs his words like there’s nothing but alcohol thick in his veins. you feel absolutely stuffed, right to the very hilt, your pussy stretched in the most pleasurable manner around his member. it isn’t until the boy begins thrusting at a hard, thorough pace that you can’t help but whine around the pink, fabric gag, though hansol seems to allow it for the time being.

there’s an impenetrable fire in his eyes as he rams into you, the bedframe jolting against the wall each time he draws his hips out, only to slam them forward, rough and unforgivingly. a heavy furrow burns itself onto your face, an expression twisted in the carnality that consumes you whole. hansol doesn’t go any easier on you, encompassed by his own extreme lust.

his leans over top your back with his hips still desperately rutting into you, and you whimper once more around the gag as hansol licks at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. the second he curls his lips back and his canines drag toward the sensitive, inner slope of your neck, a shiver melts beneath your flesh. he has yet to bite, just scrapes at your skin with a smirk.

but you develop an earnest notion that hansol won’t be able to resist his desire. likewise, you won’t be able to hold out much longer. the head of hansol’s cock pushes firm into your golden spot, consistently and at an overwhelmingly intense pace. the drool manages to accumulate at your chin regardless of the gag, and you forget the stinging sensation of the metallic cuffs.

“s-so close, aren’t you?” hansol hisses. “mmm, t-that’s it, princess. c-cum for daddy, okay?”

as soon as hansol reaches a hand between your legs and begins rubbing his thumb across your swollen clit, you shatter into pieces, your walls immediately suctioning tight around hansol’s cock, your arousal coating him until the noises of your own slick have you mewling in a conflict embarrassment and ecstasy. your contractions force hansol to experience his own release.

however, the boy is rather intent to capitalize on the unprecedented pleasure. upon feeling his cum shoot in prolonged, creamy spurts deep inside you, hansol simultaneously digs his fangs into a rather soft portion of your neck, instantly breaking the fragile skin. you cry out through the gag, tears slipping salty and hot down your face at the painful, thrumming sensation.

though hansol’s pace slows marginally, he still continues snapping his hips into you, his cum dripping slow, sticky and warm down the back of your thighs. after removing his teeth from the puncture wounds, hansol attaches his mouth over the slits and begins suckling, the tangy, copper-like taste of your blood gushing across his tongue. your lungs shake as you try to breath.

you turn your head, your cheek sinking into the pillowcase. it doesn’t take long before you note how the bedroom colours begin sponging together, like an artist mixing paint on their easel. a fuzziness blots your mind, and ever so slightly, you begin seeing double of certain objects. the more hansol drinks, the worse your vision becomes, until your eyes unwillingly flutter shut.

a few minutes pass, and you aren’t one-hundred percent sure what’s happening. very faintly, you can feel hansol softly lick over the wound at your neck, using his unique saliva to numb your pain and close the two holes. the strict metal confining your wrists seems to disappear, and at long last, you feel the gag gently being pulled out from your mouth.

hansol’s movements are incredibly ginger. he helps you roll onto your back, and the dim lights twinkle in the blurry corners of your vision for a lingering second. eventually, everything sorts itself back into one image, and you see hansol peering down at you with a tender look in his amber eyes. he strokes your cheek slowly, rests his forehead against yours as he kisses you.

you haven’t been able to exercise your vocal cords, so you shy from speaking. instead, you allow hansol to decorate your neck with sweet, solacing nips and licks, a state of drowsiness slowly impending upon you. however, no matter how sleepy you’re becoming, you manage to dryly chirp out the boy’s name as he moves down the bed to nuzzle between your thighs.

“ah—,” hansol cuts you off, “that’s not my name, darling.”

you swallow tautly, your heart hammering as you ask, “daddy, w-what are you doing?”

hansol only smirks at you while pulling your folds apart with his thumbs, observing how the thick streams of his cum pool slowly from your swollen entrance. your fingers clasp at the bedsheets, watching intently as hansol leans in close with a glaze in his eyes. suddenly, the boy spits on your pussy, his tongue then lapping at your sensitive flesh in fervent and warm licks.

immediately, an unexpected warble uproots from your chest. you attempt to close your thighs, though hansol pries them down with his strong grip. using one hand, he gathers some of his cum that had oozed out, then pushes it back inside your entrance, slipping his digits in right until the knuckle. you tilt your head back and weep, especially as his tongue flicks your clit.

“d-ddaddy! i-i c-can’t— o-oh, f-fuck, please! please be gentle…”

“hmm…” hansol curls his fingers perfectly against your g-spot, “but this is your punishment, sweetheart. i don’t care if you’re sensitive. you’ll take what i fucking give you, pretty baby.”

at that, hansol buries his face back into your core, lathering his wet tongue across your ruined silk while his fingers unforgivingly rut into that pliant, spongey patch. everything begins blurring again. your chest arches upon feeling hansol’s fangs brush your clit, their sharp edge just grazing the sore flesh and garnering a massive sob from your chest. hansol grins.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your folds, his chin and mouth glimmering with a concoction of your arousal, “you gonna let go, hm? you gonna let go from me fingering my own cum back into your precious cunt? fuck, i might have to drink from you again, baby. your blood tastes so fucking good when i already have your cum on my tongue.”

the world collapses beneath you like a house of paper cards. you practically dig up up the bedsheets from their tightly tucked crevices, attempting to withstand the force of the orgasm that ripples throughout your exhausted frame. hansol abides by his earlier testament. he sinks his razored fangs deep into the inner meat of your thigh, creating another wound.

he suckles eagerly, in unbeknownst thirst, drawing the addicting, seraphic flavour of your blood onto his tongue. there’s a tingling sensation that follows suit. you feel the pins and needles in every vein. you allow hansol to freely drink, one of your hands falling atop his head so that you can shakily stroke his black hair. he hums contentedly, sensing your thigh tremble beneath him.

by the time he’s satisfied, you’re teetering on the edge of what feels like an eternal slumber and hollowed consciousness. hansol wipes the crimson trails from the corner of his mouth. he climbs back up your body, completely spent of all energy, and says something to you, though his words sound somewhat muffled. you’re overwhelmed with the urge to fall asleep.

unable to resist the heaviness in your body, you allow yourself to fade.

the next time your eyes slowly flutter open, you note that you’re still in bed, with a distant ache echoing at the side of your neck and inner thigh. the blankets pool around your waist as you sit up, to which you note that you’re wearing a clean pair of underwear and one of hansol’s soft, patterned flannels. there’s a water glass on the bedside table, and you drink from it gratefully.

“hey.” the bedroom door squeaks open, and hansol steps inside.

you smile toward him at first, mumbling a quiet “hi” in response, though you realize you wanted to ask him a question: “did i pass out or something?”

hansol sits on the edge of the bed, his lips then pressing in a sweet, comforting kiss to your forehead. he kisses your sore wrists too, still a little chaffed from the metal cuffs, and nods empathetically. you see that his eyes are no longer an amber blaze, but their usual, mellow shade of chocolate. he replies in a gentle tone, to which you can read the apologetic, lighthearted nature that tends to warm his face after rough sex.

“you fell straight asleep. i think i was too hard on you, babe. i shouldn’t have fucking emptied you like a juice box, huh?”

laughter rumbles in your throat, and you shake your head.

“no, it was fine! i know you would never take enough to hurt me.”

hansol’s gaze seems to twinkle over with an arduous sentiment, one that makes your chest feel as though it’s made from pink cloud and stardust. you love the way he looks at you, like you’re the most important thing he’s ever known (and hansol has known many, many people in his often cold and lonesome lifetimes). he’s just thankful to have met someone like you.

“i love you.” hansol hums while soothingly tracing circles to the bitemark on your thigh.

of course, you end up pulling hansol down into the bedsheets with you to cuddle. even though the possibility lingers that you could dose off again, hansol doesn’t mind. as long as he has the opportunity to stare wonderfully at your pretty face, he wouldn’t ever have a problem with it.

#seventeen smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #seventeen scenarios #vernon scenarios #hansol scenarios #svt smut #svt fanfic #kpop smut #svt scenarios #vampire!au #i will be thinking about this forever

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wendimydarling · 5 years ago

Text

Trapped (eviF traP)

Title: Trapped (eviF traP)

Pairing: August Walker x OFC Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Okay guys. I need to be clear here: THERE. ARE. WARNINGS. Please read these carefully, and if something on the list triggers you proceed with caution. If I have missed any kind of warning at all, PLEASE let me know kindly what I missed by sending me a DM; it is never my intention to hurt someone by leaving things out. That being said, the warnings are as follows: Dub-con, Non-con, Sexual Assault, Sodomy, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Knife Play, and Mention of Rape and Oral Rape. Again, if I have missed anything, please let me know so that I can edit this list.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had to keep fighting.

The table is cold, and hard. My knees feel bruised from how long I’ve been trapped in that position, my wrists rubbed raw from twisting them in the metal shackles. My neck had the same treatment as my wrists; once again, I find myself manhandled into a position where I can’t move. I can feel my aching pussy, wet and throbbing, waiting for what was next.

I don’t want this.

Everything he’s doing to me, everything he’s already done, is like some horrible nightmare that I can’t escape from. He’s too large. Too strong. Too powerful. Something about him is intriguing; I can’t get the image of his scar out of my head. What happened to him to make him want to treat me like this? I’m afraid of him. My body betrays me, makes him think I want it.

But I don’t want this, do I?

I hear a click and once more the toy takes to it’s incessant buzzing, vibrating rapidly against my cervix. I can see his arm moving, can guess what he was doing to himself as he sits behind me in that leather chair, watching. My legs spasm and my folds milk the toy against my will, traitorously seeking release. I clamp my hands together, digging my nails into my palms repeatedly in the hopes of a distraction from the edge that is so near. He said he wouldn’t fuck me if I don’t come.

I hope he wasn’t lying.

The toy hits a higher frequency and a high-pitched moan escapes my lips; I can’t help it. The pleasure grows nearer and nearer, and I press my lips together, trying with all my might to push it away. I won’t do it.

I won’t scream for him.

He is angry, I know. By denying him my screams, denying him the fuck that he wants, I still hold some power, and I hold onto that as the vibrations reach that final level. I see something small fly through the air and clatter to the floor in front of me: it’s the remote to the toy. The vibrating isn’t going to stop this time. I whimper.

“You know, you really shouldn’t test me, pet,” I hear his voice, slithering menacingly into the air like a snake. Something wet traces my sensitive organs, and I try in vain to pull away from the offending touch. My wrists keep me still. Fingers plunge into my center, and he pushes the toy deeper still, placing further pressure on that spot that sends me into eternal bliss every time it’s stimulated.

Still I fight.

I can tell he’s impressed by me, how hard I fight him. It’s a game to him, a power play, a battle of wills. It’s why he’s spent the last six months torturing me daily. It’s a game that I know he will eventually win. But right now, I refuse to break. I hold on to the hope that one day, I will get free.

Something sharp pinches the skin on the backs of my thighs repeatedly, and I cry out. It’s painful. I realize it’s his teeth. He always has to mark me, as if I were a work of art that he’s creating, a brand new canvas with each new position. He brushes the marks softly with his fingers, and I tremble at the touch. My body once more betrays me. The fingers trail down to my clit, circling it the way he knows I like, and I can’t help myself. My hips press into the touch.

Because I want this.

His hands leave my body abruptly and he stands. I watch him tuck his impressive length back into his pants. How can this not be affecting him? He rounds the table and crouches in front of me, tangling his fingers in my hair as I gaze at his face. His hideously scarred, beautiful face.

“I’ll be back in a little while, pet. Hopefully by then you’ll have decided whether you’d prefer to be fucked by the toy, or my cock.”

His lips attack mine, leaving me gasping for air. Wait, he’s leaving? He walks away, kicking the remote out of his way as he heads for the door. All my resolve leaves me instantly.

“No wait, please. Don’t leave me here like this, turn it off. Please, turn it off; Daddy please!!”

I cringe at the use of the moniker he’d demanded. It’s humiliating, and I hate using it. But as the door closes behind him, the toy still buzzing, my thighs still quaking, my cunt still dripping, the thought of being left here like this for hours is too much. I begin to scream.

“NO! Daddy please, I want you to fuck me; I want your cock, please! Fuck me with your cock, Daddy, don’t leave me here! I want you Daddy, I want you, please! DADDY!!!”

I was broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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missfay49 · 4 years ago

Text

Just Listen

Summary: The fam-ILY gets together for a Christmas celebration.

Warnings: Logan and Virgil get in a fight but they make up, obligatory interaction with relatives, alcohol, food, Christmas, cursing, countdown, mention of past injury, struggling with recent hearing loss

Word Count: ~3000

Oldest to Youngest: Logan/Remus/Roman/Janus/Virgil/Patton/Alec

Other Characters: Aunt Patty and Uncle Mitch, Aunt Mel and Uncle Jim, Titi, Grandma Sanders, Grandpa Sanders, Maman, Nico Flores

DD:HH:MM:SS - Days : Hours : Minutes : Seconds

AO3

Once upon a time, there were seven cousins born of four siblings. The oldest sister and her husband had twins and named them Roman and Remus. The second oldest sister and her partners had a child and named him Alec. The youngest sister had one child and named him Patton. And their brother, the youngest of them all, had three children named Logan, Janus, and Virgil.

00:16:02:32 until Christmas Day, 7:58 AM

Logan, the oldest cousin, was leaning against the kitchen counter holding a fresh cup of coffee in one hand and rubbing his right temple with the other. He blinked against the early morning sun of Christmas Eve streaming in.

“You’re up early!”

Logan jumped at the movement to his right and found his aunt looking at him.

“Good morning, Aunt Mel. I made coffee.”

“Bless ya, kid,” she said, turning toward the machine. When she came back around to grab the sugar, he was gone.

00:13:25:17 until Christmas Day, 10:35 AM

“Who took the last piece of bacon?!”

Roman froze in his spot on the floor in front of the T.V. If he were just very, very still, maybe-

“J’accuse!” Remus shouted from the kitchen door over the sounds of chatter and clinking kitchenware. Roman spun around to see Remus pointing at him menacingly.

“You already had some!” Roman yelled back, pulling his plate close. Remus, not breaking eye contact even once, methodically kicked off his flip flops and set his plate gently on top of a bookshelf. He crouched a little and rolled his shoulders.

“Remus, no, my juice, Remus! NOOO-”

00:13:23:03 until Christmas Day, 10:37 AM

From his cozy spot beneath the sheets in the spare bedroom, Virgil heard a scream and a thump. And then several more thumps. He blinked and stretched, smooshing his face into the pillow. For one precious moment, he imagined he could go back to sleep but the dream was pierced by Aunt Patty’s shrill voice scolding someone down the hall.

He shoved himself up on his elbows and sent a hostile glare at the general brightness of the room. Things quieted down but it was too late - he was up. He stretched for several more minutes before finally straightening his clothes and stumbling out to follow the smell of breakfast.

00:12:40:54 until Christmas Day, 11:20 AM

Virgil shuffled past the subdued twins in the living room and into the kitchen, stopping at the door as his brain tried to process what was happening. His younger cousin, Patton, was furtively opening and closing all the cabinets, searching each and every one. Apparently he found what he was looking for, because he started chuckling to himself and reached behind some cups to pull out a huge plastic bag of cookies. He opened it and spun around on his socks, walking headlong into Virgil.

“Ah!” Patton nearly dropped the bag, and a couple cookies fell out onto the floor. Virgil laughed as they picked them up together.

“Whatcha doing, Pat?”

Patton waved him close, whispering.

“My mom keeps hiding the cookies. She said if I keep eating ‘em she’s gonna have to make more for tomorrow. That sounds like a win-win to me!” He took the floor cookie from Virgil and pocketed it. They took turns peering into the dining room where the older folks were talking.

“You do you, cuz.” They bumped fists and Virgil scooped some cold leftover eggs onto a paper plate to take with him to the living room. Remus shoved past him coming back into the kitchen.

Whatever Remus had planned to do in here was lost when he spotted Pat.

“Oo! Cookies!”

00:11:22:49 until Christmas Day, 12:38 PM

“What exactly are we watching, Roman?” asked Patton, popping a couple Tums into his mouth and flopping down into a recliner. Roman was still planted in the middle of the living room floor, but now Virgil was keeping him company, fast asleep on the couch with an empty plate in his lap. Roman didn’t look away from the screen.

“A Christmas Prince. It’s about a journalist that falls in love with the prince of a whole Christmas-themed country! And the bad guy’s not too bad lookin’ either.” Roman squeezed a pillow to his chest.

“Oh, right, I thought it looked familiar! Did you watch Jenny Nicholson’s breakdown of it?”

“Who?”

Patton smiled at the look of wonder on Roman’s face as he followed the characters on screen. At the silence, Roman turned around to look at him, distracted but curious. Patton waved him off.

“Never mind.” Better not to spoil it.

00:07:12:24 until Christmas Day, 16:47 PM

“Dinner tiiime!” Aunt Patty peeked into the living room. “It’s all ready, you guys hungry?”

“Yisss!” Patton launched himself out of the recliner with Virgil following slowly behind. Roman tore his eyes away from the current Hallmark movie with great effort, checking his phone messages.

Aunt Mel was in the kitchen with their little cousin Alec. Just as they passed through he let up a screech, making them all jump. Roman’s phone went flying.

“AAAAA DON’T WANNA WASH I’M STILL PLAYING!”

“AH, sweet Jesus,” Roman clutched his chest dramatically as the rest started laughing.

“Alright, keep it together, ya hooligans,” Aunt Mel teased them. “Alec, I’ve had too much wine today for you to be screaming at the water. You told me yesterday you love playing with the water-”

Auntie continued to help Alec wash his hands and the cousins tumbled into the dining room where Logan and the grandparents were already gathering. Logan braced at the incoming chaos.

“What happened to you?” He asked them.

“Didn’t you hear Alec screaming?” Virgil deadpanned.

“Oh,” Logan straightened his glasses. “Yes, that.”

The rest of the family came up from the basement talking heatedly about the Saints and the Vikings. Who was winning or losing at that particular moment was unclear, but dinner would proceed regardless.

00:04:47:19 until Christmas Day, 19:13 PM

“Defuse!” Remus slammed a card down onto the table. “Whew, that was close. I almost exploded in a fiery, kitten-y death!”

“Boom!” Alec cheered. Nearly the whole family was gathered around the kitchen-table-turned-game-table, even the grandparents and great grandma, Maman. Aunt Patty and Uncle Mitch were downstairs watching the end of the football game, and Titi was just a few feet away putting a new batch of sugar cookies in the oven. She shot a good-natured stare at Patton.

“Sorry, mooom,” “Sorry, Titiii” he and Remus chorused. “Patton tricked me!”

“Hey!”

“That’s okay, you two can help me decorate these later as punishment. Remus,” Titi pointed to the person beside him. “Help Maman with her turn, remember?”

“Oh, yeah!” Remus leaned over the centenarian. “You got any actions, Maman?”

“Quel est ce dessin?” She held her cards up to him and pointed.

“That’s a cat dressed as a taco, Maman. C’est un mème.”

While the game continued around the table, Virgil watched Logan discreetly. Sitting to his left, something was wrong with his oldest brother. He wasn’t sure what yet, but it was definitely… something.

“Nope!” Logan put a card down over Uncle Jim’s attack. Aunt Mel went next, then she helped Alec with his turn, and then, there it was; Logan’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. His eyes flitted back and forth between the players and the cards. He stared at their faces, but not quite at eye level. Patton’s, Roman’s, Grandma’s turns all passed the same - he was concentrating so hard. Why?

“Virgil?” Grandpa nudged him out of his speculation. “It’s your turn.”

Logan was staring at him expectantly.

“Oh.” Virgil glanced at two mismatched cats and drew. An exploding kitten. He was dead. “You’re turn, Lo.”

Logan spent a second longer waiting to see if Virgil was done, and then played his own cards. As they both watched Remus go next, Virgil leaned in closer.

“What is up with you?” He whispered. Logan didn’t take his eyes off Remus’ cards.

“Hey!” He kept whispering, jabbing Logan in the ribs.

“Ow!” Logan yelped, then lowering his voice. “What?”

“I asked you a question, don’t act like you can’t hear me.”

Logan squinted at him, then his face shifted. He looked stricken.

“I’m playing “See The Future”,” someone said. “Hand me the deck.”

00:04:22:44 until Christmas Day, 19:38 PM

VIRGE: what happened?

A new round had started and Virgil hoped that switching to text would let them continue their argu- debate without distracting the rest of the family.

BIG BRO: Nothing

VIRGE: bullshit

Logan ignored his phone, watching the game progress counter-clockwise this time. Virgil did not accept this strategy.

VIRGE: !

BIG BRO: Stop

VIRGE: tell the truth.

BIG BRO: (Seen)

They paused to take their turns, and when Virgil picked his phone back up, Logan was already typing. He tried to be patient, but the energy was clear in the way his foot tapped the ground.

BIG BRO: It seems my hearing has not entirely recovered since that explosion during chem lab a couple months ago. I’ve got tinnitus in my right ear. It is quite difficult to pick up sounds over the ringing when they’re coming from that direction.

BIG BRO: Or sometimes from any direction. So, I’m concentrating a little more. That’s all.

Virgil glanced between the texts and Logan several times, Logan staring with seemingly great intent at his cards.

VIRGE: THATS ALL?

BIG BRO: Calm down, it’s not a big deal.

VIRGE: have you been to a doctor?

Logan stopped to play another “Nope” card. Virgil was ready to scream at the delay. The chatter at the table seemed louder to him now and much, much different.

BIG BRO: Yes. And I’ve done plenty of my own research. There’s not much to be done unless I want to get surgery or start wearing hearing aids.

VIRGE: so wear hearing aids until you decide about the surgery

BIG BRO: They’re expensive, Virgil.

VIRGE: dads insrance must cover some of it and ive got some extra money

BIG BRO: No. Thank you. That money’s yours. You worked hard for it.

VIRGE: your e taking it

BIG BRO: That’s not the problem.

VIRGE: then what is.?

BIG BRO: (Seen)

VIRGE: why won’t you make it easier on yourself? you know none of us will care if you wear one. the explosion wasn’t even your fault, it was that other kid

Virgil sent the text and looked at Logan, waiting. Remus was nearly finished with his turn; Logan was next. The turns passed, but Logan didn’t pick his phone back up from the table.

VIRGE: why

Logan glanced at the text preview when it came up on the screen, still not moving.

VIRGE: i know you can see this

VIRGE: why

“Because!” Logan shouted, slapping his cards down. Everyone fell into a stunned quiet.

“Are you guys cheating? Mom says cheating is wrong.” Alec’s voice broke the silence a second later. Virgil stuck his tongue out at him.

“I assure you we are not cheating,” Logan smiled at Alec. “Virgil’s just being a pest.”

The game resumed, Patton taking an absurd amount of actions before drawing another Beard Cat card. Was it even legal to have that many cards?

Virgil leaned back in his chair, tired from the stress. His phone buzzed.

BIG BRO: This is my last semester. I’ll get one after graduation.

00:00:41:12 until Christmas Day, 23:19 PM

Roman carried two mugs of coffee into the living room as back-to-back commercials for 24 Hours of A Christmas Story played on the T.V. He handed one to Virgil and got back under the throw blanket.

“Thanks.”

“Whatcha doing?” Roman peered at Virgil’s laptop. There were at least a dozen tabs open. The current screen showed some kind of fancy earpods.

“Just killin’ time.” Virgil opened yet another tab.

“Yeah, it’s a bummer Janus picked a college so far away. But the train’s due in a few minutes! Then it’ll be officially Christmas.”

“I mean, he still has to, like, get here from the station.”

“Whatever,” shrugged Roman. He flipped through the channels. All commercials. He settled back on the Hallmark channel, laying down and closing his eyes while they waited for the latest must-have-product ads to end.

“Remember when we played dress up together?” Roman mused. “Mom taped all those toilet paper rolls together so we could have swords and we all fought over the two paper crowns from Burger King? Do they still make those?”

“I have no idea,” Virgil laughed. “That was so long ago, how do you even remember that?”

“Because I was a fabulous ruler! The kingdom prospered unendingly under my leadership!” Roman flung his free arm wide, not bothering to open his eyes. “It was glorious!”

“All you did was declare free love-”

“An important doctrine!” Roman jabbed at the air once before letting his arm flop back down and graze the carpet. “All Janus did was universally pardon thieves and liars, was that so much better?”

“Well, I was playing a thief. Maybe I’m biased.”

“You would…” Roman muttered. He didn’t finish the thought.

“Roman?”

A little snort was the only response. Roman was fast asleep, coffee untouched and the remote resting by his head.

00:00:00:03 until Christmas Day, 23:59 PM

00:00:00:02...

00:00:00:01...

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Virgil was stirring; he snuck like a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

in hopes that his brother soon would be there.

Christmas Day, 01:23 AM

“Wake up!”

Roman gasped. Someone was shoving him into the couch cushions.

“He’s here!” Virgil bounced on his shoulder again, almost knocking the laptop to the ground.

“Okay! Jeez, I’m up. I’m up!”

Virgil was already gone, shoving his boots on while a taxi drove away outside leaving two figures in the darkness with their bags. By the time Roman was on his feet, Janus was shouldering through the door with a backpack and giant suitcase, a cute boy following just behind.

“What is up, king?” Roman and Janus clasped hands and half hugged. “Who’s this?”

“Oh, you know.” Janus shrugged off the bag. “This is my boyfriend. Nico, this is my cousin, Roman.”

Nico stifled a yawn and waved. “Pleasure to meet you, Roman!” Virgil came in setting down two more bags and nudged Janus.

“I thought we all agreed not to bring dates again after what happened last-”

“Oh, sweetheart, you must be exhausted!” Roman interrupted as he picked up one of the bags. “I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”

“Thank you so much, our stuff took forever to load off the train.” Nico started to follow him.

“Hands to yourself, Ro,” Janus hissed after them. “I like this one.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roman grinned, disappearing around the corner into the hallway. Nico hesitated.

“What…?”

Janus waved him off. “I’ll tell you later.” When they were both out of sight, he turned to Virgil.

“It looks like half the county’s parked in our front yard. Is dad up?”

“He didn’t stay.” Virgil shrugged. “He got into a fight with Titi last night and left after an hour.”

“I see…” Janus sighed, looking down the hall for a moment. “Can’t break tradition now, can we?” He smiled up at his little brother. “Did you get taller?”

Virgil answered by way of a bear-hug, squeezing the breath out of him.

“I missed you, too, Virge.”

Christmas Day, morning-ish

“Merci, Maman! Thank you!” Everyone spoke over each other, unwrapping the sweaters she had made for each of them.

“Yellow was very, uh, popular this year, no?” She teased them. “I hope that you like them.”

“Mine does not have yellow, it’s gold.” Roman corrected everyone. Aunt Patty scolded him. Janus laughed.

“Don’t complain, Roman, yellow is just the superior color,” said Janus, wrestling his own sweater on.

“Yours is more black than yellow!” Roman pointed out. Janus’ head popped up through the collar.

“Did I say yellow? I meant ‘black’. Black is the superior color.”

“Black’s not even a color,” Roman called after Janus shimmying away to grab a cookie with Nico in the kitchen. He came back a second later.

“Why does this cookie look like it’s frosted with vomit?” Janus held one up, looking affronted.

“Don’t suppress my creativity!” Remus shouted from under the tree.

Christmas Day, sometime, who cares anymore?

Logan stood in the hallway, reading an email from Virgil, sent at three that morning. It was lists of hearing aids, their pros and cons, and prices. And another email from Janus a few minutes ago with links on how to get disability funding. That would explain Virgil’s note at the end...

I love you. Please don’t be mad. I told Janus.

He rubbed a hand over his face and chuckled. Had he really thought he was going to keep this a secret for even a day around those two? He pocketed the phone for now and walked through the house.

There was Patton and Roman watching a girl in a beret talk on youtube. Roman had a horrified look on his face. Janus was in the kitchen teaching Alec how to play chess, and not going easy on the kid at all. Logan peeked downstairs. There were Virgil and Remus and Nico, playing charades with the aunties. Remus was making some obscene gesture that had Aunt Mel on the floor laughing and spilling her wine, and Aunt Patty was yelling at both of them.

Logan wandered to the couch and plopped down. It’s a Wonderful Life, was playing on the television. Logan hummed along with the closed captioning as the characters celebrated saving George Bailey from false charges. The vibrations in his chest felt right.

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet

For days of auld lang syne

The End.

@sanderssidesgiftxchange @kieraelieson

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wordynerdygurl · 5 years ago

Text

Winter’s Warmth

Author’s Note: This is a little story for my Fairy Godmother, Suzz, who magically helped me get tickets to see Betrayal on Black Friday!!! It’s my first time in NYC and she’ll be with me when I see Tom on that stage. She’s an woodland witch, incredible friend, and like I said… magic. Also, the GIF is of Jonathan Pine but I love that coat!

Summary: Winter in the woods… how do you spend a day? Outside in the snowy silence, your God, Loki to keep you warm!

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Fluffy smut!

“Little one? I’m going to find you… and when I do… oh, you’ll wish that you hadn’t hidden from me.” Loki’s voice rang out menacingly through the trees. A scarlet cardinal, shaken by his presence, streaked from one branch to another drawing your eyes off of your pursuer.

You silently prayed Loki wasn’t able to hear the thump of your heart. If it was anywhere as loud as your panting then he would find you in no time. Plus, it was hard to hide the warmth of your breath in the snowy cold of November and you needed to stay out of sight.

Clinging to the tree trunk that is your refuge, you heard Loki. Closer now, false reasoning in his tone, "Dove… Be a good girl and come out of your hiding spot. I promise I’ll be… gentle.” With sneaking steps you crept around the pine that has been your shield. Swinging your gaze from side to side there’s no sign of Loki but somehow you know he is on to you all the same. Dropping low, you dash towards the nearest grove of silver birches eyes watchful for the dark God chasing you.

Sensing your movement, Loki’s head snaps towards you, watching as the black of your boot tucks into the thicket you’re now using for cover. He slinks, panther like, stalking you with an evil smirk splitting his face. Your tracks in the snow are so visible that they might as well be an arrow pointing out your location. Slowly, carefully, Loki rounds the copse of white skinned trees. “Gotcha!” Squealing, you take off in the opposite direction, sliding in the slippery slush. Your laugh echoes off the dusky woods as you dart left, looking for cover under the heavy, snow filled branches of an ancient evergreen. But it’s too late.

You feel Loki behind you. Facing him, you fake right, dodge left, but the Trickster anticipates your steps. Grabbing you from behind in a bear hug, Loki announces, “The day is mine, kitten. All that’s left is declaring me the winner!” “Never!” You twist away, intent on running again. Loki gains on you, determined steps pushing you back until you collide with the trunk of another forest giant.

Smirking, “Never? But Little One, I’ve beaten you at hide and seek. Now, you must pay me my due.” “You cheated. I don’t know how you did, but I know you did it.” Sticking out your bottom lip, that way Loki cherishes, you pout.

Shaking his head, Loki admonishes you, “Me? How dare you. Fair is fair, kitten.” Holding out his hand, Loki motions for you to hand over his prize.

“Fine.” You unzip your parka. Your nice, warm parka, and place it in Loki’s arms. Shivering a bit from the loss, you feel your nipples harden in the cold air, a thing that catches Loki’s eye. Licking his lips in want, he adds, “Your turn.” Closing your eyes tight you count, “One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, TEN! Ready or not, here I come!!”

He leaves no tracks in the snow. Damn his magic, you mentally curse. It made the fun one sided. But then you hear the small snap of a twig in the distance and you barrel in that direction.

A flash of green draws your attention. Turning that way you call out, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

There’s another crunch, closer to you now, so you slowly wind towards it. Eager to catch Loki, you circle around a set of saplings already sagging under the weight of snow and stop to listen. A low whistle had you spinning your head, a glimpse of Loki’s green jacket streaking past in the opposite direction, and you were in pursuit.

“Almost got me, pet…” Whisper soft, seemingly in your ear, you heard Loki’s voice. Backing against the trunk closest to you, you flattened out, ready to catch him. Bracing your arms around the rough bark, you inched towards the other side, smiling at your all but won victory.

“What the hell?” Loki grabs your wrist holding it tightly to the tree behind you. Before you register what’s going on he’s on you, his lithe body pressed to yours, pinning you in place. Eyes dilated from the thrill of the chase, a stray lock of raven hair flopping forward, Loki had never looked so daring… or more dangerous. “Loki. This is cheating.” Your breath hitching from the combined effects of exertion in the cold and the closeness of your competition. It’s infuriating the way your stomach flips at his nearness. Your body flushes in a pantie soaking spasm of arousal at Loki’s bold play. “No it isn’t. You win this round, Little One." Brushing his knuckles down your cheek, cupping your chin, "Congratulations.” His kiss is rushed, crashing your mouths together, tongues tangling.

Pushing away from you just enough, lusty eyes locked on yours, Loki unbuttons his own wool coat. The black Henley he’s wearing accentuates his lean frame and you lick your lips, tasting his kiss, eager for more. When he hangs his jacket on an obliging branch, the tiniest bit of Loki’s belly is exposed, a crescent moon of manliness. Your desire to taste that pale stripe is overwhelming.

Having thoroughly invaded your personal space, muttering lowly, “Come on, Loki… It’s freezing out here!”

"You wanted to play Strip Hide and Seek, little one. I’m merely complying with your wishes.” Refocused on you, Loki parts your legs with his thigh, his thick muscles grating against your center. It’s not enough to find relief, not yet, but the slow burn he’s started in you is catching fire.

Twinkling eyes, full of mischief, are as bright as his smile. “I know it’s cold. It makes your cheeks a lovely shade of pink.” Loki was close enough now that his heat was yours. A warm hand grazing up your neck, thumb brushing over your full bottom lip, tugging your mouth apart.

Loki licked into you then, forced to swallow your guttural groan, as your lips opened to his. Slower, smoother now, Loki tasted the roof of your mouth. The scent of snow, spearmint toothpaste and that electric flavor singular to him, made craving Loki your only thought. You fought against his grip ravenously desperate for more. He pulled away from you then, leaving you in that wanting state, starving for Loki’s carnal attention.

Tongue clicking, “Not so fast, darling.” Slowly, painfully slow, Loki undoes the buttons on your thick flannel shirt. His hands, hot in the day’s chill, cup your exposed breasts over your bra. Your exhaled moan fogs the air between you. Tugging the fabric of your bra down, your exposed nipples tighten painfully, the cold acting on your body instantly. To his credit, Loki lowers his mouth to one. The contrast of his fiery flicking tongue and the icy atmosphere making you squirm against the rough bark behind you.

“Damn… Loki!” You clench your fists in frustration. How lovely it would be to return the favor, give Loki a little bit of the pleasant pain he’s forcing on you. It’s just that every time you lift a hand he drags it back to your side, or worse, pins it over your head.

Kissing down your uncovered belly right to the edge of your button fly, Loki chuckles at your obvious excitement. Goosebumps rise on your naked skin, “I know it’s cold, pet… but I’m going to warm you up. Have no fear.”

Deftly, Loki opens your jeans. He’s desperate to get at your sweltering sex. Over the plaid cotton of your panties his fingers mold to your female form. Your pants, unfastened but not removed, help hold his hand to your heat. There’s no wiggle room, so when Loki presses the fabric into your crease, rubbing the heel of his palm across your straining bundle of nerves, you shiver.

“Is that because of the temperature? Or perhaps, it’s this?” Loki husks into your ear before nipping the lobe. You tilt your head back, gasping, and that’s the moment he glides one long digit into your core.

A wanton wail escapes you echoing across the forest floor. “Shh! We don’t want to scare the wildlife, darling!”

“Loki! Sorry… sorry. I’ll be quiet… just don’t stop? Please?” What are you saying? You don’t really know, it’s all mindless pleading babble. All you can focus on is him, the hot warmth of your arousal and the numbing cold of the air.

“As if I could stop, my spirited snow bunny." Without warning Loki adds a second finger to his digital assault. Stuttering, you curl towards him, engulfed in his mighty presence, stifling another sob.

Your body is acting on pure impulse. When Loki presses into you, probing deeper, your slick arrives in earnest. "Your wetter than ever, pet. I think you like this… do you? Tell me.”

Fluttering open, your heavily lidded, lust filled eyes linger on Loki’s blues. “How much I like your touch? A lot, Loki. Too much, Ok?”

Smirking at you, Loki lowers his head and kisses you. This time it’s hard and deep, sucking the air out of your lungs, weakening your already wobbling knees. Reaching for him, your hands free, you anchor yourself. One clings to Loki’s shoulder and the other wraps around the wrist of the hand giving you so much pleasure.

With a devilish drop in his tone, Loki rumbles, “And what would you have next my freezing fox?”

“All of you, Loki. I want it all.” Growling in feminine need denied, you rolled your hips, Loki’s dexterous fingers gripped tightly by your velvet walls.

It’s his turn to growl. Pulling from you with a grunt, lowering himself onto the plush bed of fallen pine needles at your feet, Loki takes your pants with him. “Your boots have to go.” It’s a command and you take two seconds to kick them off.

Loki basks in the sight of you. Jaunty winter cap, pom pom flopping to the side, makes your hair stick out at odd angles. A pout on your puffy lips as your cheeks turn rosy from the exposure makes Loki bite his own on impulse.

He swallows hard at the state of you. Top unbuttoned, breasts bare to the nippy climate, nipples puckered in exquisite pain. Underwear gone, tangled with your jeans, exposing the tender lower lips of your womanly body. Legs uncovered, feet cozy in thick, fuzzy socks.

Funnily, you aren’t cold. Faintly flushed with the excitement of Loki’s teasing after running around after him has left your body warmed over. Alight with arousing ardor you raise an eyebrow his direction, “Like what you see, Mischief maker?”

Stepping closer to you with a rueful chuckle, “Certainly, my Snow Queen." Nuzzling your cheek into his open palm, Loki cradles you, pulling your near naked body against his clothed one. The way he rubs against your heated skin is almost too much to bear.

Again Loki claims you with his mouth. Teasing you with his tongue, his kiss ferocious, deepening with each sigh that escapes you. Your hands find a home in his ebony locks, tugging him, guiding him, using him to your own ends.

Breaking your kiss with a small sigh he trails toasty pecks along your jaw. Loki bites down your neck, hovering over you, sandwiching you between his unbearable firmness and the unyielding strength of the trunk behind you. Whining in a whisper, "Why am I the only one undressed?”

“Because that’s what I want. You, shameless, exposed and mewling." Those big hands slide over the satin of your thighs, lifting your knees, wrapping you around his hips. Loki’s rigid length searches for a snug seat inside you blocked only by his dark denim second skin. The frazzling friction of fabric makes you dizzy. "Loki! Please…"

He doesn’t have to hold your squirming form. The bark, scoring scratches into your back, means you’re trapped. Instead of hanging onto your dusky hued demigod you reach for the solid spruce you’re being rocked into. Its natural presence grounding you, connecting you to the solid earth, even as Loki’s hard cock and hungry kisses send you soaring.

Pressing his hips to yours roughly, the button of his jeans flexing against your fleshy pearl, Loki rips his shirt off in one motion. He’s a vision, hard planes of smooth muscle, sparse raven chest hair curling southward. The moan you release is as involuntary as the clench of your belly.

"No more words."

Nodding, your eyes shut in ecstasy, as Loki palms your chilled breasts. While his hands knead the gentle flesh, Loki’s mouth scalds you with long licks over your throat, tiny, tasting nips of your neck and savagely sucking on your earlobe. His breath is ragged in your ear.

Loki, aroused beyond measure at your willing, responsive body, is growing impatient. Snow starts to drift in lazy circles around the large tree that is your shared shelter and the smell of fresh frost stills the air around you both. You could live here, tantalized and teased by Loki, in the silence of the snowy woods until springtime. But your eager god has other plans.

Snaking a hand between you, Loki pops the button of his pants, freeing himself with a lusty groan. You muffle a moan by biting your bottom lip, Loki’s searing steel bucking over your quivering core, purposefully pushing against your sensitive nub. Busying his hands with your abraded backside, shifting you a fraction higher, he positions you for his plunge. Loki sighs your name as he lodges his length inside you at last.

Snow swirls outside your arboretum. Under the branches of your pine there is solitude and near silence. Time is spinning slowly in the grey skied afternoon as you start to unravel around Loki’s smooth, deliberate thrusts.

You open your eyes skyward, deep green needles spreading above you, a few flakes floating between the branches. One lands on Loki’s naked shoulder, at the dip of his collarbone, so that’s where your lips latch onto him. Marking him. Yours.

He’s panting now. Those long, steady strokes stretching you, spreading your hips wider around Loki’s middle as your female form squeezes around your lover. Like a thin skim of ice on a frozen pond, your body is immobile under Loki’s driving desire, freezing and thawing with each thrust.

Snapping his hips into you, one hand stroking your full breast, the other dropping down to slide over your straining bud, Loki is determined to have your quiet completion. You smile, sex drunk, at the idea of his working so hard to get you off. Because he is doing all the work.

You’re stuck between a God and a hard place. Your pleasure forced on you with everyone of Loki’s piercing pushes. Syncing the rhythm of his cock with the circles on your clit, you felt the fragile ice of your orgasm snap, pulling you into the frigid waters of ecstasy. You lock your mouth to his as you silently scream your release.

Loki’s tongue tussles with yours, licking over your bottom lip, before sucking it between his teeth. When he spilled inside you, hot and hard, you tasted blood from his bite. Loki, kissing it away, rested his forehead to yours.

Swallowing hard, Loki smiles at you, satisfied. Your hair was tangled, twisted into the tree’s trunk, your snow cap was on the ground. One of your fuzzy socks had slipped off, leaving your right foot bare, in the fiery furnace of your fun time. Already you could feel the red welts rising on your bum and back.

You smirked at Loki. His pants puddled at his knees. Wearing only his boots and a smile you could imagine nothing sexier.

Gentler now, though still hushed, Loki held you. From under the boughs of your forest shelter you noticed a fresh pile of snow. The tranquility of the scene at odds with your racing heart.

Carefully Loki separated from you, earning a shudder due to the cool air on your exposed sex. After hiking up his own jeans, Loki gathers your clothes together. Expertly, he began setting you to rights, helping with your socks. Buttoning your shirt. Tying your boots.

When you’re bundled up again, snug in your downy jacket, you sigh. "I love it here.”

Laughing softly, Loki swings into his shirt, “I know. It’s so calm… so quiet”

Watching him slip back into his jacket, back into his softer self, you reach for his hand. “This… this is our tree.”

Lifting your knuckles for a glancing kiss, “Yes. Our own Yggdrasil.”

Looking up at Loki, “I like that.”

With a crunch, you both step into the blinding whiteness of a November snow, ducking under the heavy branches weighted with snow. “Alright, Loki. We’re tied, one to one. And now…” Loki’s eyebrows lift in anticipation, “Tag! you’re it!"

You shove him, hard. Recovering quickly, chasing after you with a barking laugh that rings out in the still of a snowy dusk, "Oh pet… you better run!”

Tags: @archy3001 @iamverity @jamielea81 @jessiejunebug @brokenthelovely @nonsensicalobsessions @thefallenbibliophilequote @mizfit2 @alexakeyloveloki

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #mcu fic #mcu smut #loki

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