#this is more of a fun idea to mess around with

[ohtobeleah]

Something that goes without saying is how uncertain Logan really is about sleeping in the same space as another person. Sure, he'll commit to the fun beforehand….The foreplay, the sex, the highs.

But the inevitable act of sleeping beside someone, terrifies him.

We see it in Origin, we see it in Days of Future Past. Sometimes while Logan is sleeping, his claws come out when he feels under duress. Nightmares are a common occurrence for this man, not a night goes by where he isn't waking in the dead of night to the ghost of his past.

And I'd like to think of all the Logans running around the multiverse, that the Worst!Logan has surely been through some things. He's never experienced true rest. Not until he met you.

“I'll sleep on the couch.” Its common at the beginning of whatever the dynamic between the two of you is. Logan ends up back at your cafe, or in your living-room, bathroom, kitchen or bed—but he never stays beside you for longer than a few minutes after. Not because he doesn't crave that intimacy or true human connection, but because the idea of losing you to his own mutation truly scares the ever-living fuck out of him.

But one night, you catch him off-guard. So off guard that Logan doesn't even have a counter proposal ready.

“Ill join you,” You beam, padding down the hallway with your blanket and pillow wrapped in your arms. “Somethings bothing you and with friends like me and Wade, that shits gonna come up eventually,” You ramble. As you sit beside Logan on the lounge he slept on more often than his own bed, he catches a glimpse of a few noticeable scars on your back. Scars where his claws had once accidentally taken over in an otherwise romantic moment between the two of you. “So, get talking pops.”

“Don't call me pops.” Logan sighs as he opens his body up for you to snuggle up against him. “It's nothing I can't handle, didn't anyone ever tell you not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?”

“Are you trying to tell me that I don't belong here?” You counter quickly, playing Logan’s logic against himself. “Me? Resident of this timeline? Doesn't belong right here next to you?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Logan smiles all the while trying to keep his brooding man mask on. But with you he feels ever atom of his being igniting with desire and unconditional love. “I worry I'll hurt you, while I'm sleeping,” Logan explains as you listen to his heartbeat inside his chest. Snuggled on the lounge in your apartment. “You don't know how much that thought terrifies me.”

“Hmm,” You hum in response. “Perhaps the question you should be asking yourself Lo, is what if the nightmares, what if the fear stops, when you allow yourself to rest with someone you love?” It was a bold word to use, and even though it was rarely, if ever used, there wasn't another word in the English language to describe how Logan felt about you. Or how you felt about him.

And its a thought that's never crossed Logans mind before. He frowns, thinking it over in the late-night silence. You fall asleep there, right with your head on Logans chest as he tru thinks.

Only to wake up in a tangled mess of sheets, with Logan snorning next to you as the early morning sun kisses his golden, aging skin. Its the first night in years he hasn't woken in screaming terror.

“Tell me told you so and I'll turn you into a skewer.” Logan mumbles as you pepper him with kisses across his exposed back.

“I think I'll take my chances with you, Lo,” You chuckle to yourself. “I'll make you some coffee.”

@a-reader-and-a-writer Canon Ilya universe content

Ilya

[starsjulia]

casual // leah williamson

a/n : a long angsty one based of this request

warnings : angst with a happy ending (ish?), fwb

The rain always seemed to hit harder on nights like this, when you were alone in your apartment, the silence weighing heavy around you. Your phone was lying on the coffee table, screen dark, as you tried your best not to stare at it. Not to pick it up. Not to send the message you swore you wouldn’t send this time.

But the temptation was always there. Leah was always there. Somewhere in the back of your mind.

It had been two years since this thing between you had started—this complicated mess of blurred lines and unspoken rules. It had begun like most bad ideas do: with too much wine and one reckless decision. A kiss that turned into something more, with promises of “this is just for fun” whispered between sheets. You were friends, after all. Close friends, nothing more, nothing less. And that night, it had been easy to believe that you could keep it that way.

But nothing had been simple since then.

You sat there now, curled up on the couch, blanket pulled tight around you as you stared at the empty space beside you. Two years of stolen moments. Late-night texts. Meeting up when the loneliness felt too heavy to carry. Always on her terms, though. Always when she had time. You had told yourself it was enough, that you were fine with the arrangement. After all, Leah had been honest from the start. She didn’t want a relationship. She didn’t have time for one, with her football career and all the responsibilities that came with it.

And you were fine with that. Or, at least, you pretended to be.

Because the truth was, you weren’t fine. You hadn’t been fine in months.

The problem with pretending not to care was that it became harder and harder to keep up the act. You were good at pretending, though. Pretending not to feel the sting of her absence when weeks went by without a word. Pretending not to notice how she never stayed the night, always slipping out of your bed before dawn with some excuse about training or early mornings. Pretending that this arrangement, this friends-with-benefits setup, was still just casual fun for you.

The truth was, it hadn’t been casual in a long time.

Your phone buzzed on the table, breaking through the quiet tension in the room. You stared at it for a moment, hesitant, before reaching for it. The name on the screen made your heart do that stupid, traitorous leap in your chest.

Leah : You home? x

Three words. So simple. So innocent. Yet they carried so much weight.

You typed back quickly, your fingers shaking slightly.

Yeah. Why? x

It wasn’t long before her response came in.

can i come over? x

It was always like this. These late-night texts, her asking to come over, to slip back into your life for a few hours before disappearing again. And you always said yes. No matter how many times you told yourself you wouldn’t. No matter how many times you swore this time would be different.

Sure, doors unlocked x

You sat there for a moment, staring at the words on the screen, regretting them as soon as you sent them. But it was too late. You couldn’t take them back now.

Fifteen minutes later, Leah was at your door.

She walked in like she always did—confident, with an easy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She looked tired. Exhausted, even. You knew the demands of her career were catching up to her, that she had been under more pressure than ever lately. The national team, her club, the media—all of it was taking a toll. You could see it in the way her shoulders slumped slightly, in the faint shadows under her eyes.

But she didn’t say anything about it. She never did. Instead, she just collapsed onto your couch, exhaling deeply.

“Rough day?” you asked softly, sitting down beside her but keeping a bit of space between you. You had learned to do that, to create some distance even when she was right there next to you.

Leah shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Just tired. Training’s been brutal lately.”

You nodded, unsure what to say. This was how it always was—small talk that never led anywhere. You were friends, but there was always this wall between you, this unspoken rule that you never crossed into anything deeper.

But tonight, something about it felt heavier than usual. Maybe it was the rain outside, or maybe it was just the weight of everything that had been building between you. The things you hadn’t said. The things you couldn’t say.

Leah glanced over at you, her eyes searching your face for something you weren’t sure you could give. “You okay?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more tentative.

You forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

It was a lie, of course. But she didn’t press you on it. She never did.

Instead, Leah leaned in, her hand finding your thigh in that familiar way that always made your heart skip. Her touch was soft, but there was a tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. Like she could feel that something was off.

You looked at her, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Is this what you came here for?” you asked, your voice coming out sharper than you intended.

Leah blinked, pulling back slightly, her hand falling from your leg. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, is this what it is for you? Just… this.” You gestured between the two of you, your frustration finally bubbling over. “Is that all I am to you, Leah? A convenience? Something you can come back to when it’s easy for you?”

Her eyes widened slightly, taken aback by your words. “Where’s this coming from?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, your chest tightening as the words you had been holding in for so long finally began to spill out. “It’s been two years, Leah. Two years of this—of you showing up when you feel like it, of you acting like we’re just friends, but then turning around and…” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely, unable to find the right words.

Leah stared at you, her expression unreadable. “I didn’t know you felt like this.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Of course you didn’t. I’ve been too busy pretending everything’s fine. But it’s not, Leah. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with being whatever this is.”

Leah looked down, her jaw clenching slightly. “We agreed it would be casual. That’s what we said from the start.”

“I know that!” you snapped, your frustration finally breaking through. “I know we said it would be casual. But it’s not casual for me anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the sound of rain hitting the windows the only thing breaking it. Leah didn’t say anything for a long time, just stared at the floor, her expression distant.

Finally, she spoke, her voice low. “I didn’t ask for this to be more.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the bluntness of them slicing through you. You felt your throat tighten as you tried to keep your emotions in check, but it was too late. Everything was spilling out now, all the hurt and frustration you had been bottling up for months.

“I know you didn’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “But it *is* more for me. I can’t help that. And I can’t keep doing this if you don’t feel the same way.”

Leah’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in them—regret, maybe. Or sadness. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that same guarded look she always wore when things got too close, too real.

“I’m not good at this,” she said quietly. “I don’t know how to do relationships. Football… it’s everything to me. I don’t have room for anything else.”

Your chest ached at her words, even though you had known them to be true all along. “I’m not asking you to choose between me and football, Leah. I would never ask that. I just want to know where I stand. I want to know if I mean anything to you beyond being someone you can sleep with when it’s convenient.”

Leah exhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. “You mean something to me. Of course you do.”

“Then why don’t you show it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper now. “Why do I feel like I’m the only one who cares? Like I’m always waiting for you to decide when I matter?”

She didn’t answer, and that silence said more than any words ever could.

You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as you tried to steady your breathing. “I can’t do this anymore, Leah. I can’t keep being your… your in-between. If this is all you can give, then I need to walk away.”

Leah looked up at you, and for the first time, you saw real panic in her eyes. She stood up, taking a step toward you. “Wait. Please.”

You shook your head, tears threatening to spill over as you stepped back. “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something more, that she might finally open up, finally give you what you had been aching for all this time. But then she stopped, her expression hardening, and you knew. She wasn’t going to give you anything more. She couldn’t.

The door clicked softly behind you as you walked out into the rain, your heart breaking with each step. You had spent two years convincing yourself that you were okay with the way things were, that you didn’t need more than what Leah was willing to give.

But now, soaked and alone, you knew the truth.

You had always wanted more. And Leah was never going to give it to you.

---

Days passed. Then weeks.

You tried to move on. You threw yourself into work, into spending time with friends, anything to keep your mind off of Leah. But she was always there, in the back of your mind, haunting you like a ghost.

You hadn’t heard from her since that night. Part of you had expected her to reach out, to try and fix things, but deep down, you knew better. Leah wasn’t the kind of person who fought for things like this. She didn’t know how.

Still, the silence hurt more than you thought it would.

One night, weeks later, as you were sitting alone in your apartment again, your phone buzzed on the table. You ignored it at first, assuming it was one of your friends checking in, but when it buzzed again, you glanced at the screen.

Leah: Are you home?

Your heart clenched at the sight of her name. You stared at the message for a long time, torn between replying and throwing your phone across the room.

But before you could stop yourself, you typed back.

yeah. why.

There was a long pause, and for a moment, you wondered if she would respond at all. But then your phone buzzed again.

Leah: Can I come over?

You stared at the screen, your mind racing. You knew you should say no. You knew that letting her back in would only lead to more heartache. But it was Leah. And despite everything, despite all the hurt, you still cared. Too much, probably.

Sure..?

It didn’t take long for her to show up. When she walked in, she looked just as exhausted as the last time you had seen her, but there was something different in her eyes this time. Something softer. Vulnerable, almost.

You stood awkwardly in the living room, not sure what to say, not sure why she was here. Leah seemed just as uncertain, her hands shoved in her pockets as she looked at you.

“I missed you,” she said quietly, her voice raw.

Your heart clenched at her words, but you didn’t let yourself get too hopeful. “You missed me, or you missed the convenience?”

Leah flinched slightly at your words, but she didn’t look away. “I missed you,” she repeated, her voice firmer this time.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Leah, I can’t keep doing this. You know that.”

“I know,” she said, taking a hesitant step toward you. “I know I’ve been shit. I know I haven’t given you what you deserve. But I…” She trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “I’m scared.”

You frowned, confused. “Scared of what?”

“Of losing you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of letting you in too much and screwing everything up. I’m scared that if I let myself care, I’ll get distracted, and I can’t afford that.”

You stared at her, your heart aching at the vulnerability in her voice. You had never heard her talk like this before, never seen her let her walls down like this.

“I’m not asking you to give up your career, Leah,” you said softly. “I’m not asking you to make me your whole world. I just want to know that I matter to you. That I’m not just something you come back to when it’s convenient.”

“You matter,” she said quickly, stepping closer now. “You matter more than you know. I just didn’t realize how much until you walked away.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes, but you blinked them back, not wanting to break down in front of her. “Then why didn’t you fight for this sooner?”

Leah took another step toward you, reaching out to gently take your hand. “Because I’m an idiot,” she said softly. “And I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you.”

You looked down at her hand in yours, your chest tight with a mixture of emotions. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered.

Leah gently tugged you closer, her other hand cupping your cheek as she looked into your eyes. “Let me try. Please. I can’t promise I’ll be perfect, but I want to try. For you.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into her touch, letting yourself feel the warmth of her skin against yours. It wasn’t a perfect resolution. It wasn’t everything you had been hoping for. But it was something.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.

---

The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. But as Leah pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew that this was a start. A messy, complicated start—but a start nonetheless.

And maybe that was all you needed. For now.

[into-the-grey]

New Year, New Us

Best Friend!Noah Sebastian x F!Reader (18+)

Summary: You and Noah have been close forever, but who knew that new year's could make such a mess?

W.C: 6.6k

Taglist: @anything-more-than-human @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk sex, p in v (unprotected, cause they're idiots), slight fingering (f!recieving), sadness, angst.

Masterlist

A couple more warnings under the cut for those who don't care about spoilers.

Spoiler Warnings: talk of abortion, talk of pregnancy, talk of pro-life v pro choice

ON WITH THE SHOW

The day had been dragging on, and the city was buzzing with excitement and preparations for the coming evening. New Year's Eve, time to wish the last year farewell and move into better days.

Or so you hoped.

The guys had decided to have a get-together. What was originally going to be a few friends and a few drinks had quickly turned into planning a party. You were a little nervous, but it wouldn't be the first time you'd gone to a party at their house.

Noah usually stuck by your side during these events, being a buffer between you and a stranger was easy enough for him. He knew you could get anxious, but he also knew you liked meeting people. It was complicated, but he understood.

'What's the dress code?' You asked him jokingly, your phone on speaker while you brushed your hair. You'd been on the phone with him for about an hour while he ran some last minute errands, picking up snacks and an extra case of white claws.

'I don't know if there is one, but considering the amount of girls Folio invited, probably clothing optional,' Noah snickered.

'Hey, maybe you'll get lucky with one of his spares,' you joked, spraying your hair with a heat protectant before picking up your straightener and adding some curls around your face.

'Maybe,' he said. You could hear his smile in his voice. 'I don't know, I was just gonna wear something casual.'

'What, sweats and an oversized t-shirt?' You asked, running your fingers through a curl to break it up into a soft wave. 'Come on, it's new years, have a little bit of fun with it.'

'And what? Wear my stage clothes? A glittery blazer?'

'Okay first of all, you know that blazer was amazing, and second, you have nice clothes. If I have to do a FaceTime fashion show with you later, I will.'

Noah laughed, knowing you weren't kidding. You would take any excuse to dress him up, and sometimes it was good, other times it lead to some weird outfits.

'I'll tell you what, I'll just match whatever you wear. So if you go over the top, I'll go over the top. Deal?'

'Ah yes, more fuel for the dating rumour fire,' you smirked. 'Fine, I'll send you a picture of what I end up picking.'

'I'm not committing to anything until you show up, Y/N. I know you'll find something insane and then change before you leave just so I'm overdressed.'

'I would never-!' You tried to scoff, but Noah cut you off quickly.

'November 2014, that party at Damon's house.'

'Oh shit, yeah I forgot about that,' you mused. 'You looked good in pink.'

'And you were in jeans and a T-shirt, you brat.' You could hear him trying not to laugh. It had become a cherished memory, despite the awkwardness at the time.

Noah's bright pink sweater had looked pretty good though, and you would stand by it.

The clicking sound of the handbrake being applied sounded through the phone, telling you that Noah was home.

'Alright, I'll be over in about an hour, okay?' You told him, shaking out another curl and watching your hair bounce in the mirror.

'Okay. I meant it, I'll match what you do, so don't fuck me over this time?'

'I won't, I promise. I'll figure something out so you might get a girl later,' you teased. You could picture him rolling his eyes as he said goodbye.

The phone beeped, disconnecting the call and resuming your Spotify playlist. While you finished your hair, you ran through some outfit ideas in your head. If you were going to try and get Noah to look good, you needed to wear something he couldn't argue with.

You had just the outfit in mind.

***

The sun had finally set, and it was time to go. You Ubered to Noah's house, since drinking was an inevitability. You had already planned to crash in Noah's room, like so many other nights.

As you entered the house, the boys were setting up, stashing drinks in coolers and searching for bowls to serve chips in.

'Hey Y/N!' Folio called, waving as you passed.

'Hey! Have you seen him?' You asked.

'Upstairs, he told us you're probably gonna make him wear something stupid so he's trying to hide all his worst clothes,' Folio cackled.

'That sneaky shit,' you laughed, heading up the stairs. 'He's not getting off that easy.'

You had thrown an oversized sweater on over your dress. It felt too early to be wearing something like that, and the sweater made you feel more comfortable until the festivities started.

Plus, Folio had wandering eyes, and you didn't need that just yet.

'Noah,' you called out, tapping on his bedroom door.

'Yeah?'

'Quit hiding your clothes, I have a mental inventory of your wardrobe, dipshit.'

The door swung open, and Noah scowled at you. You met his scowl, flipping him off before you both laughed. You trod into his room, seeing a pile of clothes crammed under his desk.

'Only you would have dedicated my entire closet to memory,' he said, sitting down on his bed.

'Because I think I bought eighty five percent of your clothes?' You shrugged, sitting on his desk chair and crossing your legs.

'So what's the vibe? A sweater and heels?' He asked, raising an eyebrow and looking you up and down.

'Oh no, this is just until the party. The sweater is staying in your room,' you smirked, looking from him and back to the pile of clothes. 'You tried to strip everything, didn't you?'

'Maybe...'

In the closet there were only a few tops left. Most of them were oversized tshirts or bad omens merch. But in the back you could see a few nicer shirts.

Noah watched as you stood, grabbing the black button down and tossing it at him.

'Where's your suit pants?' You asked, peering through the pile under his desk.

'Second drawer, in the back. The belt is with them.'

'Glad to see you've accepted your fate,' you told him with a laugh. Noah's lips curved into a small smile.

'With you? I know you'll keep your promise. No point fighting you.' He stood, turning away from you and taking his shirt off.

While you found his pants and belt, he buttoned up his shirt. Next you went rifling through the jewellery stand, selecting a couple of rings and his gold watch.

'I swear to god, Y/N, you're not seriously dressing me up like one of those Mafia guys in the books you read, are you?' Noah groaned, buckling his belt before turning to face you.

You picked up the chain he usually wore, debating if it was too much. Ultimately deciding against it, you put it down and closed the closet door.

'If I am, it's not intentional, but you look good,' you told him, handing him the rings and the watch.

He slipped the accessories on, looking at himself in the mirror on the closet door. You stood beside him, arms crossed and lips pursed. You hummed to yourself, trying to think what was missing.

'Lose a button,' you finally said.

'Seriously?' He laughed.

'If my tits are gonna be out, so are yours. Lose a button. And roll up your sleeves, Jesus, we're not in church anymore,' you giggled.

Noah's cheeks heated at the mention of your tits, but you didn't notice it. Now he was curious to see what you were hiding under the sweater.

As he followed your instructions, you realised that the house was starting to fill with noise. People were arriving, and someone had turned on the stereo.

'Shit, it's eight already?' Noah said, looking at the watch on his wrist.

'Yup. Ready to mingle?' You said, giggling. You tried to mask your nerves, but Noah knew you too well.

'If you want to stay up here we can, you know? Or I'll just stay with you the whole time?'

'I'll be okay,' you promised him. 'Get two drinks in me and I'll be a functional adult, no anxiety to be seen.'

He rolled his eyes at you, shaking his head slightly.

'Alright, you win, mingling it is.'

Before you could leave the room, Noah tutted at you.

'Forgetting something?' He asked.

You pursed your lips, quietly regretting your choices. Sure, your dress had convinced Noah to let you play barbie, and he looked hot, but now you had to bite the bullet and lose the sweater.

Sighing, you quickly lifted the sweater off, draping it on the back of his desk chair. Noah's eyes widened as he took in the dress... if it could be called a dress.

It was more like a second skin. It was unbelievably tight, hugging every curve. The neckline was more of a navel-line. The cleavage of the dress plunged down, showing off the space between your breasts and a little below them. The spaghetti straps weren't so much straps as superfine chains, and the hem of the dress hit the midpoint of your thigh, just cresting that part where it was dangerous to bend over.

A flush of warmth surged through Noah as he stared at you. Sure, you were best friends, but he wasn't blind.

'Holy shit, you weren't kidding about having your tits out. Where have you been hiding that?' He asked incredulously, crossing his arms over his chest.

'It was an impulse buy a few years ago. I've been waiting for an excuse to drag it out,' you shrugged, clearly feeling a little insecure.

'Y/N, I'm not leaving you alone tonight. The guys won't keep their hands to themselves if I do,' he laughed.

'Oh shit,' you giggled, knowing he was trying to boost your confidence. It was working.

'Maybe you should leave the sweater on, Folio's girls might get jealous...'

'Let 'em.'

***

Noah kept his promise, staying nearby and keeping an eye on you throughout the night. At first you hadn't thought he'd need to, but a couple of guys tried to hit on you, and even Folio got a little comfortable after a few drinks. When Noah wasn't busy batting away the other girls, he was close by, keeping people's hands off you.

As the hours wore on, and midnight grew closer, you found yourself drifting from a conversation to a drinking game and back again.

Outside by the fire pit there was a game of "never have I ever" going, and for the short time you and Noah joined, you ended up downing three shots and finishing a white claw. Noah didn't drink as much during that game, but he didn't do so well with beer pong.

You were both sufficiently buzzed when someone turned the tv on for the final countdown to midnight.

Noah dragged you inside, standing in a quiet corner while people filled the living room.

'Have you got a resolution this year?' He asked you, leaning against the wall.

'Have you?' You said simply, mirroring his stance, facing him with your shoulder on the wall.

'Nothing serious,' he said with a laugh, 'I wouldn't mind getting laid.'

'Oh god, same,' you agreed, turning and leaning your back against the wall. 'It has been way too long since I've had a good fuck.'

Noah nodded, chuckling with you. Through your drunken stupor you didn't see the way his eyes trailed over your body.

'Me too,' he nodded. 'You ever thought about the whole "friends with benefits" thing?'

'Yeah,' you sighed, 'but most guys who want that are only trying to cheat on their girlfriends or wives. I've never found a guy who was open to it without being a total sleaze.'

'Shame,' he said softly. The room was filling with people, everyone's eyes on the screen as the ball began to drop.

People began to yell out, counting down.

'Hey, Noah?' You asked, a stupid idea forming in your mind.

'Yeah?' He asked, watching you as a grin spread over your lips.

'Wanna do the midnight kiss thing? Just so we can say we did?'

THREE!

TWO!

ONE!

As the city filled with cries of "Happy New Year" and fireworks filled the sky, Noah's lips crashed to yours. It was sloppy, it was drunk, there was a lot of teeth to start with because the two of you were laughing so much, but it was fun.

His hand grabbed for your face, pulling you to him while you figured out your harmony.

You pulled back, giggling as you looked up at him. Your lipstick was smeared across his lips, his beautiful smile now tinted with streaks of deep red.

For a second, you were frozen, looking at each other with dumbstruck grins.

And then he kissed you again.

And this time it was careful, tender. This wasn't a joke anymore.

You kissed him back, feeling your body fluttering in every way while your head spun. His hand snaked to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Your hand ran into his hair, your heart hammering in your chest.

You clung to him while your arm locked behind his neck, his tongue exploring your mouth in ways you'd never experienced.

For a moment, the din of the party fell away. It was just the two of you, clinging to each other like you'd just found the only life preserver left on a sinking ship. Fire burned through your veins, his touch only stoking the flames. It had been so long since anyone had touched you that way, since anyone craved you the way Noah seemed to in that moment.

His hands stayed on you as you panted, a small gap forming between you while you accustomed to breathing again.

'Upstairs,' you breathed, 'now.'

Noah didn't need to be told twice. He took your hand, guiding you through the still packed room of people making out with whoever they had chosen for the night. You climbed the stairs behind him and quickly made your way to his room. He lead you in, locking the door behind him and taking two quick strides towards you.

His hands ran over your body, pushing the chains off your shoulders while his lips pressed against yours fervently. You fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, wanting to just rip it off of him and send the buttons skittering across the carpet...

You'd never thought you'd want to do this with Noah, but now, the idea couldn't turn you on more.

His head dipped to your neck as you shoved the shirt off of his shoulders, his teeth clamping onto your throat and earning a whine from you.

His hands dropped lower, pulling the dress down until it pooled around your feet. You fought with his belt, determined to have him just as bare as you.

Finally, he helped, his rushed hands unbuckling the belt and letting his slacks fall to the floor.

Noah laid you down on the bed, hovering over you and kissing every part of your body he could reach.

'I have wanted to do this for so fucking long,' he breathed, taking your pert nipple into his mouth and sucking hard while his fingers slipped into your panties.

'Oh fuck,' you whimpered, his finger swirling over your clit.

Your core ached for him, and in your haze, you didn't have much patience for foreplay. You were so wet already, you didn't need it.

'Noah,' you begged, 'please...'

Returning to your face, Noah freed himself from his underwear, his cock springing up and slapping his abdomen. It was swollen, angry, and already leaking.

He slid your panties to the side, lining himself up with your entrance.

'You're sure about this?' He asked gently, kissing you again. The fervour had dimmed for a moment, his tone earnest and his eyes searching yours. All you had to do was say no and he would stop...

'I'm sure,' you told him, kissing him again.

'Okay.' He kept his lips on yours, kissing you deeply as he slid his cock into you. Slowly, inch by inch, he stretched you open. You hadn't had a real man between your legs in years, and vibrators only felt so real...

Noah moaned against your lips, your mouth falling open as he seated himself as deep as he could.

'Holy shit, Y/N, baby you feel so good,' he murmured, his cock twitching while you each adjusted to the squeeze and the stretch.

'Fucking hell, Noah,' you couldn't think of what to say, your mind was blown with pleasure and he hadn't even moved yet.

Slowly, Noah began to move, rolling his hips in a fluid motion. Your back arched into him while he figured you out.

'Does that feel good, baby?' He murmured, taking one of your breasts in his hand and pinching your nipple lightly, 'or do you want faster?'

'Faster,' you agreed, whining, 'oh god, you're so perfect.'

Noah chuckled against your skin, kissing at your neck and your jaw while he sped up. 'You're so wet, so tight,' he told you, 'you're everything I dreamed you would be.'

'You dreamed about this?'

'Mhmm, a lot.'

The idea of Noah secretly fantasising about you set your body on fire. You wondered how many times you'd missed him staring, how often he thought about it. Did he think of you when he was alone? Was it your name on his lips when he finished himself off in the early hours of the morning?

You could only hope he never found out that you'd named your favourite vibrator after him. It was a secret you had been harbouring for a while, and in those hours where it kept you company, you felt a pang of guilt every time you finished with a cry of his name.

But here? Now? You finally got to fulfil that secret dream of yours, knowing he thought of it too. Fuck the consequences. That would be a problem for tomorrow.

'Show me,' you mewled, 'oh god, show me what you dreamed about.'

Noah grinned, raking his teeth over your throat gently.

'Gladly.'

His hand dropped from your nipple to your pussy, his thumb swirling over your clit and shooting sparks through your body.

His pace increased, and he lifted your leg over his shoulder, letting his cock stroke deeper.

'Oh fuck,' you whimpered, feeling his tip drag along the fleshy spot that would turn you into a puddle.

'Good girl,' he grinned, kissing the inside of your leg as he fucked into you, 'look at your pussy, so eager for me, god, you're so perfect.'

Your muscles clenched, his words only driving you closer to climax.

'Keep talking, baby, please,' you begged.

'You like dirty talk? Or is it when I praise you?'

'Fuck, both, both,' you whined, gasping as he tormented you right where you needed it. Spots began to cloud your vision as he dragged you closer to the edge.

'You're doing so good for me, baby. I'm getting so close,' he breathed, 'you're getting so tight, you're gonna make me come.'

Endurance was a distant dream. With the drunk fog in your brain, there was nothing to think about. You were both operating on pure instinct and sensation, and the high was ready to crash over you like a tidal wave, dragging you into its deep waters.

'I'm gonna come,' you told him, your back arching and hands reaching for anything to hold on to. The delicious feeling was so close, teasing you.

'That's my girl. Come for me, I wanna feel you fall apart for me,' he groaned, his thrusts starting to falter and his fingertips digging into your hips. 'Come with me, baby.'

'Don't stop, oh god,' you cried, your muscles clenching hard around him.

'Fuck, so tight, so good,' he groaned, his head falling back as your orgasm finally peaked. It took everything in you not to scream.

Noah's laboured cries matched yours, moaning as he gave you his all, fucking through both of your orgasms and emptying himself into you.

'That... was... exactly... what I needed,' you gasped. Noah rested his head on your chest, his eyes fluttering closed.

'Definitely,' he agreed.

***

You awoke the next day to the sun peeking through the blinds.

An arm laid over you, the skin warm against yours. You rolled over in bed, trying to get away from the sunlight, and opened your eyes.

Through bleary eyes, you saw Noah. He was disheveled and his lips were covered in deep red streaks, completely knocked out on the pillow beside you.

The sight made you giggle a little, until you realised it was your lipstick.

And that you were naked.

And that your thighs were sticky.

'Oh shit,' you whisper, your head pounding as you sat up. Thankfully Noah didn't stir, and you slid out of the bed quietly.

Last nights events seeped back into your thumping head as the cool air hit your bare skin. You could still feel the ghost of his grip on your hips. In the mirror you could see the bruises of hickeys left on your neck and chest, each one ringed with a smear of lipstick that had journeyed from your mouth to his and all over your body.

Thankfully, your panties were still on, so you grabbed your sweater, throwing it on and covering yourself.

Your face burned as you looked at Noah, sleeping so peacefully. He slept like the dead, and you had never been more grateful for that. Snatching your phone off of his desk, you ordered an uber, not wanting to be around when Noah woke up.

The rest of the house seemed silent, and it was only nine. You hoped that everyone would still be asleep as you grabbed your shoes and your dress and silently left the room.

The house was a disaster, cups and streamers littered the halls and most surfaces. You paid no mind, edging your way to the front door. As you passed the small alcove where you and Noah had stood, you remembered what happened when midnight struck.

You had been the one to come on to him. You asked him to kiss you. You made things weird. Shame burned through you as you shook your head, cringing at yourself and the headache that the motion brought on.

Sure, the parts you could remember had been fun, but there was no way your friendship could be the same after this. You couldn't be sure what happened in those black spots.

You'd had a crush on Noah for a long time. Anyone with eyes would, and anyone who knew him loved him. Of course you'd fallen into that trap.

How could you be normal with him after having a taste of what could have been? And how quickly would he be repulsed by what happened?

Mercifully, the Uber didn't take long to arrive. You slipped out the front door, closing it as quietly as possible as you disappeared into the morning sun.

***

Noah tried to call you later that day. You had already decided to lie and say you slept for most of the day. But the weeks after? They were hard to bluff your way through.

He was your best friend, he knew something was up, and it was clear that it was hurting him that you were avoiding him.

He worried. He made it clear that he was concerned about you, pushing to talk to you. Every time, you blew it off and tried to dissuade him with a half truth about work.

You dodged phone calls, and you sent as many short texts as you could, trying to assure him that everything was fine, you were just busy. You even did everything you could just to keep yourself busy, trying to keep yourself somewhat honest.

Noah knew better than to believe you. He knew this behaviour. The last time you had dodged him like this, you were hiding the time you had spent in hospital after a bad night. When he finally found out the truth, he made you promise to call him instead, and this was the first time you'd broken that promise in years.

After a few weeks, he stopped waiting for you to come to him. Noah showed up at your house unannounced. He had let himself in and he sat on your couch to wait for you to get home from work.

When you opened your door that afternoon, you hand your head low. His truck in the drive was a giveaway, you knew he was waiting for you.

You considered not going inside, but you knew that he would stay all night if he had to.

Unlocking the door, you entered the house quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't notice you. Instead, his eyes followed you as you toed your shoes off by the door and kept your head down.

'Hey,' he called.

'Mm,' you mumbled back, beelining for the kitchen. You figured you could busy yourself making dinner or a coffee, anything to avoid him for a minute longer.

'Y/N.'

His voice was stern this time. You froze, shoulders hunched and shrinking in on yourself. Pursing your lips, you listened as he stood up and crossed the tiled floor, his socked feet almost silent.

'What's going on?' He asked you softly. He stood in front of you, his arms crossed as he stared you down.

He didn't look mad though. His stance might have, but you could see the worry in his eyes. It tugged his lip into a slight frown while he waited for your response.

'I told you, I'm fine, I've just been really-'

'Busy? Yeah, so you've said. If you were "just busy", why are you sneaking around your own house like you're scared of me?'

You felt the blood drain from your face. He had you there. Your fingers tightened, clenching into fists and loosening again while you tried to think of anything to say. You were sure you looked like a goldfish while you stammered.

You were panicking, but he wasn't going to let you leave, and you couldn't avoid him. Instead, he carefully took your hand in his. He was gentle as he lead you to the small living room.

'Y/N, what's going on?' he asked, sitting on the edge of the couch while you stood awkwardly, picking at your fingernails. 'You've been off since the party, and I know it's me. All I can wonder is "what did I do?" And you won't tell me.'

You paused, holding a breath. He thought it was his fault. Of course he did, you'd never given him any reason to think otherwise.

'What do you remember from that night?' you asked, your voice small as you sat down on the wooden coffee table. You couldn't meet his eye, too afraid of what he would say if he knew the truth.

'Not a lot,' he said, 'I remember that we played some drinking games, and I remember losing really badly at beer pong, but after that is mostly a blur.'

'Mostly?'

'I...' he trailed off, his thumb running over his palm awkwardly. 'I remember that we kissed, at least, I'm pretty sure we did. I was that far gone that it could have been anyone...'

You took a deep breath, preparing for the worst as you summoned the courage to tell him the truth.

'It was me. And it was my fault. I said that we should kiss, just so we could say we had a midnight kiss with someone. I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think we'd go that far, but even then, it was still my fault. It was my idea-'

'Y/N, you're rambling and you're being cryptic, I'm gonna need you to take a breath and spell it out for me,' Noah prodded gently. 'Whatever it is, I'm sure it's no big deal.'

'It really is a big deal,' you said, your throat trying to close over the words.

'How bad could it be?' He said softly, a reassuring smile lifting the corner of his lips. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he tried to meet your gaze, but you couldn't.

Your head dropped, staring at your fingers while the words caught in your throat. You hadn't said them out loud yet. You were so scared he'd regret it, or find it repulsive.

'We...' you stammered, swallowing hard, 'We had sex.'

Noah froze. His eyes widening while he processed the information.

'We... We had sex on new years?' He asked slowly, his face flushing as he spoke.

'Yeah.'

'That's why you've been avoiding me?'

'Mhmm,' you hummed with a tight nod, picking at your fingernails again. 'I know it's stupid, but I didn't want to ruin things between us and then I did it anyway because I was too scared to talk to you and-'

Noah shifted from the couch, moving to sit beside you on the coffee table and taking your hand, squeezing it firmly.

'Y/N, breathe,' he told you, his other hand rubbing your arm gently. He was going through the same whirlwind of emotions that you had gone through that morning, but somehow he handled it with ease.

'I can't, this is all my fault, I started it.' You were adamant. You'd been telling yourself the same lines for weeks now, trying to absolve him of fault. 'I initiated, I made the mistake, and I didn't want to drag you into this. I hoped that it would blow over and we would just forget because you're my best friend and I don't want to fuck that up-'

Noah shook his head, cutting you off again. You weren't oblivious to the way his face screwed up as you called it a mistake. 

'Don't do that to yourself. It takes two, and I'm sure I was more than willing to be involved.'

You pursed your lips, remembering the things he'd said. Silently you cursed yourself for the way your body tingled at the memory of his words. His hand on your arm seemed to burn at the thought.

'You were. You told me you'd dreamed about it before. I assumed that was just the alcohol.'

Noah's pink cheeks and awkward laugh gave him away quickly.

'Uh, nope. Definitely a case of drunk words being sober thoughts.'

You turned to him, a quizzical look on your face and a hint of a laugh bubbling in your chest. All the emotions you'd been fighting had reached a point of delirium.

'Hold it, you've actually dreamed about us fucking?' You asked him incredulously. You were flattered, but also baffled. How could he want that with you?

Noah nodded, chewing his lip and looking around the room for anything else to focus on. He could feel your eyes boring into the side of his head while he rubbed the back of his neck.

'Look, now is probably the best time to put the cards on the table,' he said quietly, scratching his jaw. 'I've wanted a lot more with you for a while now, but I didn't think you wanted the same since you were always pushing me at other girls, so I just shut my mouth. I didn't want to force anything on you, but Y/N, dude, come on. I've been in love with you for years, and you're the only person who doesn't seem to notice it.'

You froze, furrowing your brows and shaking your head a couple of times before looking up at his sheepish smirk. Your mouth opened, a smile on your lips as you processed what he said.

'Did you really just call me "dude" and say you're in love with me in the same sentence?'

Noah nodded, pursing his lips as he laughed at himself. 'Yup.'

'For gods sake, what a way to share your feelings, man.'

'I know,' he chuckled, 'but I'd rather you know instead of hiding from me and beating yourself up about a night I only wish I could remember.'

You smiled, blushing and laughing softly. 'I guess now is probably the time where I'm supposed to let you down easy and tell you I'm flattered, but I really just want to be friends?'

'Wow, just go straight for it, huh?' he chuckled, gently placing his hand on your back. 'Look, if that's how you feel, then thats okay with me. I'd rather be your friend than not have you in my life.'

You smirked, looking up at him. You could see the slight disappointment in his face as he looked at your entwined hands, but he was doing his best to hide it for your sake.

'Oh my god, Noah, look at me,' you said, his eyes lifting to yours, sparkling in the low light.

Your heart fluttered as you lifted your free hand to his cheek.

'I'm kidding, you dipshit, fucking kiss me already,' you told him, a grin on your face.

His eyes lit up, and he didn't need to be told twice. His lips were on yours in seconds, and it felt a million times better sober. His fingers stayed tangled with yours, his other hand pulling you close to him.

That same feeling of fire burned through you, wanting nothing more than to feel him everywhere. Your head spun and your heart pounded in your chest as he kissed you, his soft lips felt like home. You started to wonder what you were drunk on that night, was it the vodka, or him?

Your fingers ran into his hair, and you had to break the kiss so you could let out the giddy laugh that was building in your stomach.

'You're cruel,' he told you, his face inches from yours as his thumb ran over your knuckles.

'And yet, you love it for some reason?' You shot back, pecking his lips.

'I do,' he grinned, 'I really do.'

'Good, cause fucking hell I love you.'

***

If only that was where it had ended. A dopey, saccharine happy ending.

But no.

There was a consequence you had yet to encounter. A choice you had yet to pay for.

Something so simple, so many people fall into the same trap. And you didn't even notice, you wouldn't have either.

Until the app on your phone told you that it had been a while...

Two months, to be precise. You didn't dare tell Noah yet. Not until you were sure. He was busy preparing for a UK tour, and you'd only been together as a real couple for a month.

So you couldn't tell him until you tested with a doctor. Home tests could be wrong, right?

The doctor ordered blood tests, and waiting for those results was agony.

But here you sat, digesting the information the doctor had told you while you sat on the side of your bed.

You were pregnant. Seven weeks pregnant, give or take. But it didn't matter, you knew exactly when it happened.

This was not how this was supposed to go. If you were ever worried about upsetting Noah before, this was going to fuck him up.

You didn't even know his stance. Was he pro choice? Pro life? What would he say if you told him that you didn't want this yet?

Should you even tell him?

Of course, there was no way around it. You'd have to do it soon if you wanted to just take the tablets. You couldn't wait til he was on tour. He would see you in pain and know something wasn't right.

He deserved to know, didn't he?

It took him a little while, but Noah eventually found you in the bedroom. He saw you sitting on the side of the bed, crying softly to yourself, hand clutched to your belly.

'Hey, baby, what's wrong?' He asked, moving swiftly to your side and sitting with you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you to him, rubbing your back.

'We need to talk, and I don't know how you're going to handle it,' you whimpered, sniffing hard.

'You're not leaving me, are you?' He asked, his tone low and worried. You felt his arms tense around you, but you quickly shook your head.

'No, god no,' you coughed, looking up at him. 'I just got off the phone with my doctor.'

'Are you okay?'

You could see his eyes widen with fear, the idea of anything bad happening to you squeezed at his heart.

You weren't sure how to answer that question. Hell, you hadn't even said the words out loud yet. You'd only found out a few days before, you'd barely had time to process the home test, let alone the phone call confirming it.

'I'm pregnant.'

'And you don't want to be.'

'Not right now,' you said quietly, shaking your head. 'I'm so sorry, Noah. I'm sorry if you want this, but it's not what I want right now. I want us to be together for a while longer before we even think about kids, or marriage, or any of that. I'm still learning about this side of you, I want that to myself, I want to make stupid choices with you and not have to worry about a kid yet. One day, sure, but not now.'

'Baby, breathe for me. It's okay,' he assured you, 'I understand. And whatever you choose, I'm with you. But you're right, we're so new to each other like this... and I want to be able to steal you into empty bedrooms for a while,' he chuckled. 'I want you to myself too. One day, we'll talk family, but you're not ready and I'm not ready, and that's okay.'

He wrapped you in a tight embrace while you sniffled, trying to control your breaths as he stroked your hair.

'I love you, okay? No matter what,' he breathed, kissing the top of your head firmly.

You nodded against him. 'I love you,' you told him, your voice muffled by his hoodie.

'I have something to run by you,' he asked, 'I was gonna ask anyway, but I think you need it now more than ever.'

'Mmh?'

He chuckled as he rocked you from side to side. 'I was wondering if you wanted to come to the UK? I know you've got a lot of personal time you need to use, and I really don't want to be without you for three whole weeks...'

'I'll talk to my boss,' you said softly, 'but a few weeks away sounds like a realy good idea right now, with or without the chaos.'

Noah smirked, kissing your head again.

'We'll get you in to the doctor as soon as we can, and I'll be there with you every step of the way. And when everything is over, we'll be on our way to London,' he told you, his tone soothing.

You loved how good it sounded, and his voice was exactly what you needed in that moment. The tears finally slowed, knowing he was with you and that he had your back.

'I love you,' you told him earnestly.

'I love you too,' he said.

'No, like, I love you,' you murmured, 'I love you so much for supporting me with this, and just being there in general. You hold me together a lot more than you need to, and I don't know why the fuck I thought you wouldn't be with me on this one.'

'Neither do I, whatever you need, I'm always with you.'

'And I'm with you.'

Sinking further into his embrace, if that was even possible, you let him soothe you. This was love. This was everything you ever wanted, and you'd never felt better.

Who knew that New Year's parties could be so special?

[stoutguts]

Ghoap 💀🧼 relationship dynamic HC (shall we?)

Simon "Ghost" Riley is no scaredy-cat.

The man has been through hell on Earth, survived torture, abuse,—and being buried alive for fuck’s sake. They managed,—even after everyone he loved was taken from him. Has been through countless tense and anxiety inducing situations throughout their military career.

But Ghost has nerves of steel, excellent control over his emotions, and naturally that’s why it’s so damn good at its job.

Though…there is one thing that scares the shit out of them. Soap.

Simon thought he was all big and bad,—intimidating,—until he met John “Soap” MacTavish.

Johnny is only around half its size, yet he manages to be even scarier than Ghost somehow. Which is wild, considering one of them looks like the damn grim reaper with that skull mask of theirs.

Simon may have a reputation for “the guy you don’t wanna mess with”, to the point where people won’t even bother with them.—But Soap’s got more than a few screws loose himself.

New recruits and others will at least approach him,—but with serious caution, and are careful to watch their mouths around him.

His anger is explosive, fitting, for a demolitions expert. A total loose cannon when he wants to to be. Some recruits even refer to him as “the psycho Scot” or "Ghost's guard dog". Titles he takes to with pride.

Johnny’s known for putting people in their place, and with every fight he’s ever gotten into,—he’s always won. Often sending his opponents to medical.

Most of the time though, he just has to look at someone and it scares them shitless. He’s mastered his death glare, and it even sends shivers up Ghost’s spine.

The man’s a total gym rat and health nut, nothing but muscle, and he trains the most of anyone Simon has ever seen. He’s naturally a reigning champ when it comes to hand to hand combat, and he even beats Simon to a pulp on the sparring mats most of the time. (Ghost may like him beating the snot out of him more than they than would like to admit…)

Soap is often used for interrogations, as he’s morally bankrupt just enough,—to where he’ll do just about anything to get answers out of someone. Whether it involves violence or not.

Simon has seen the sheer extent of the injuries sustained by the poor bastards that were stupid enough to challenge him, that pissed him off, or that he’s extracted information out of—and that was enough for Ghost.

Simon is a smart man, and knows when to pick his battles. Soap being the battle he most certainly knows NOT to pick.

Johnny is more lenient with Ghost than other people, and lets them get away more. But Simon’ll be damned if it ends up on the receiving end of Soap’s wrath.

I really like the idea of Soap being the dominating one in the relationship, but Ghost not being entirely submissive either.

Like Simon can and will be the one to put him in HIS place, and knock his ego down a few pegs if need be. Though still allows him his fun.

While Johnny relies on Ghost to let him know when he’s “too much”, and makes a point to let Simon have the control, at least every now and then.

Both try to be as respectful as possible of the other’s needs and desires, while also "maintaining their roles". But both are effectively switches, whether it's in the bedroom or not, and mainly put up this dom and sub act for other people and for their own amusement.

SOAP BEING JUST AS MENTALLY FUCKED AS GHOST MY BELOVED

thanks for coming to my Ted talk

[jintaka-hane]

@walmartmihawk!! I did it!!! My first request and I WAS SO EXCITED!! You have no idea how much fun it was writing this for you!

Ladies and gentlemen! Come get a ride with our favourite FIRST MATE!

A TRIP TO THE ONSEN

Masterlist

Img source / Img source

Summary: Your crew convinces you to join them for a relaxing trip to an onsen. When you arrive, you find out the women’s section is closed due to maintenance issues, and you're forced to use the men’s area as a mixed bath. What could possibly go wrong? Word Count: 2800 Notes: Beckman x f!Reader, forced proximity, nudity but not very explicit, Reader is shy, Beckman is a gentleman, Red haired pirates are assholes XD

As you stepped into the men's changing room, you seriously considered turning around and walking right back out the way you came. 

The place couldn’t be more different from the clean, orderly women’s changing area, with its wicker baskets arranged in perfect harmony on symmetrical shelves, and its pristinely rolled, white towels ready for use. No, the room you found yourself in—thanks to the sign that read, “due to a facilities issue, we kindly ask you to use the men’s pool as a shared space”—was a far cry from that. 

The clothing of the current occupants—your crew—was strewn across the room in a careless mess, distinguished only by loosely categorized piles according to ownership. Each pile was a disaster of wrinkled sashes, balled-up t-shirts, trousers with one leg inside out, and the inevitable final touch, a pair of used boxers, briefs, or trunks, perched proudly on top. You let out a heavy sigh, recognizing your captain’s floral trousers, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the first mate’s cloak.

Were you really prepared to share an enclosed space with your crew members, as they had been brought into the world? The answer was a resounding NO. But the thought of sinking your body, aching after so many nights sleeping in a hammock, into the soothing waters of the onsen was too tempting to resist. Besides, you had an infallible plan. Slip in quietly, draw no attention, and position yourself as far away from them as possible.

You wrapped the largest towel you could find around your naked body, then placed your hands on the swinging doors that led to the pool. With your eyes closed, you took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and pushed the doors open... only to come face-to-face with Yasopp’s ass as he sank into the steaming, shimmering waters.

The mere sight of the sniper’s bare backside left you blushing, so you marched forward in long strides, avoiding any eye contact, carefully stepping around the towels your crewmates had scattered along the wooden edge of the pool.

“Hey! You made it after all!” Shanks called out cheerfully, resting his forearms on the edge of the pool to get a better look at you. 

“Yes...” you mumbled, clutching tightly at your towel and rushing past him as quickly as you could. Beckman wasn’t far away and greeted you with a slight, elegant nod—a gesture you shyly returned.

When you reached the farthest side of the pool—and definitely not the prettiest, with a large pipe in plain sight on one of the walls—you sat down carefully on the edge making sure your towel wouldn’t betray you at the worst moment. You dipped your legs into the water and, with a calculated move, let the towel fall onto the wooden floor before quickly slipping into the pool.

The moment the mineral-rich water touched your skin, you felt relief and relaxation wash over your sore muscles. The water was soothingly hot, and the steam rising from its surface created an atmosphere of calm and tranquility. You dipped your head beneath the surface, letting the water soothe your face and scalp. As you emerged, ensuring the waterline reached at least your shoulders, you opened your eyes to find your entire crew staring at you. A flush crept up your cheeks as you became the center of attention, so you discreetly turned away, lifting your arms out of the water to rub them as if you were busy cleaning.

"Roo, stop staring at me," you shot, picking a random scapegoat as you felt all the men’s eyes glued to your bare back. Beckman was quick to react, giving the cook a good smack upside the head, splashing water on a few of the nearby crewmates.

“Ow!”

"Stop looking at her," his deep voice commanded, stern and reprimanding. "And you too," he added, smacking Limejuice on the back of the head too.

"Huh? Punch is doin' it too!" the long-haired blonde complained, pointing an accusing finger at his larger friend.

Shanks chuckled heartily and leaned in toward the first mate, speaking in a low voice, “Come on, Beck, give them a break. Don’t tell me you didn’t take a peek yourself.”

The first mate turned his back to you so you couldn’t see, then flashed a cheeky grin and mouthed, 'I did,' causing the rest of the crew to crack up.

For the next few minutes, they left you alone, allowing you to settle into the little haven of peace you’d created at the far corner of the pool. You focused on your own relaxation, letting the warmth of the water soothe your body.

“Oi” Yassop’s voice broke through the peaceful silence. “The owner said there’s a cold pool next door, and a bar close by. Who’s up for checkin’ it out?”

Everyone but Beckman nodded, and they began to climb out of the water, offering you the rather embarrassing sight of a row of bare backsides as they completely ignored the towels waiting for them. You dipped your head under the water again, staying submerged until they had all left, which they thankfully did quickly — as they always did when a bar was involved — sparing yourself from having to choose between a death of embarrassment or by drowning.

"How’re you doing, darlin’?" you heard the first mate’s warm, baritone voice the moment your head broke the surface of the water. His back was pressed against the side of the pool, arms casually draped over the edge, biceps flexing slightly as they rested there. You noticed how his broad shoulders lifted just a touch, the position making them strain. His wet, silver hair was tied back in a loose, low ponytail, and beads of water trickled down his neck, landing on his collarbone. You swallowed hard, silently grateful for the distance between you, knowing that your nerves wouldn’t handle being too close to him. 

“Fine,” you replied shyly, sliding into the water until it reached your chin. 

Beckman opened his mouth to say something more but then shut it, his sharp eyes narrowing as they shifted from your gaze to a point behind you. You heard the faint hiss of pressure behind you and turned to see the massive pipe protruding from the wall, vibrating slightly.

“Darlin’, something’s not right…”

“What—” you turned to find him looking at the pipe, his body tense and alert, the water now at his waist.

The pool’s swinging doors burst open, and the onsen’s owner rushed in, his face a mask of panic as his hands clutched his head. 

"THE PIIIIPE!!! It’s going to explode!!!" he shouted, clawing at his face. "You, the strong one!" his finger pointed at your shocked first mate. "Try to contain it until I can close the valve! The water’s extremely hot, and if it blows, you’ll be scalded!!"

And with that, he disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

Beckman, a competent man used to urgent commands, sprang into action without a second thought. He pushed off from the edge of the pool, water splashing everywhere as he vaulted out, and grabbed his towel with a gruff grunt to tie it in a loose knot around his waist. Then he raced toward the massive pipe just behind you, while you stared in shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, unable to react to the sight of the first mate sprinting toward you, half-naked.

When he reached the pipe, he felt it with his hands, locating the exact point where a joint was giving way, and pressed on it, straining with all his might to hold back the increasingly vibrating pipe.

“Shit, shit, shit…” he muttered to himself, bending slightly to apply more pressure with both hands. He lowered his head, mumbling incomprehensible words until a perfectly clear “FUCK” reached your ears.

“What? What’s going on, Becks?” From where you stood, all you could see was his wet back, taut with the effort. 

“Darlin’… I’m afraid I’m going to need your help here.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else. You always followed your first mate’s orders, no matter how peculiar or awkward the situation. So, putting aside your shyness, you scrambled out of the pool, knotted your towel tightly at your chest, and rushed to help him.

“Where do I need to press?” you asked as you moved closer, trying to ignore the striking muscles of his lower back peeking out from his towel.

“Right at my waist.” 

“What?”

“My towel…” he explained as calmly as he could, “it’s slipping, and I can’t let go of the pipe. You’ve got to hold it for me.”

“Okay,” you said, trying to hide your reluctance. You lifted one hand, extended your index finger, and pressed it against the towel on one side of his adonis belt.

“Darlin’, it’s slipping on the other side too…”

“...Okay,” you repeated as you robotically moved your other hand to the other side of his hip, your face so close to his back that your nose nearly brushed against his defined shoulder blades.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” you lifted your chin to fix your gaze on the ceiling.

You hadn’t been in that position long when you heard him curse again, his hips shifting under your hands, tense and nervous.

“I think there’s another loose joint,” his rough, deep voice said. “Let me check…” He crouched down, arching his wardrobe-like back, and you stepped back to avoid bumping into him. “Yeah, damn… there’s another leak. Darlin’, you’re gonna need to help me contain it.”

“How?” your voice quivered.

“Get in front of me, hold the pipe where I tell you with one hand, and keep my towel in place with the other.”

“Okay…”

You let go of one side of his towel and moved to his side, waiting for instructions. He looked at you with his eyes framed by those characteristic deep lines on his face, and with a nod, he motioned for you to tuck your head between his arms. You complied, wedging yourself between his massive body and the pipe, your back practically touching his chest.

“Right there,” he instructed with a tilt of his chin. 

You placed one hand where he directed, and pressed firmly.

“Now the towel.” 

Keeping an eye on the pipe, you awkwardly fumbled at the lower part of his abdomen, trying to find the edge of his towel. Not finding it easily, you turned towards him, coming face-to-chest again with his massive, muscular frame. Your cheeks flamed red as you felt his stomach tighten under your hands, your fingertips tracing the line of his happy trail until you finally found the towel.

Beckman knew you were a very shy person. He had tried to approach you several times, and you had always shied away. And at that moment, he felt an intense wave of guilt for putting you in such a compromising position. 

“Darlin’, I am so sorry ab—”

“—Beck,” you interrupted, noticing the pipe shaking and dripping dangerously from the other side. “I think I need to use my other hand to hold the pipe on that side too…”

He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Alright… do you think you can hold my towel with your knee?”

“... I-I’ll give it a try.”

You released his towel and turned so that your body faced his broad frame. Then, you extended your arm as far as you could to cover the new leak, successfully sealing the damage. Feeling proud that you had managed to control the situation, you lifted your leg—perhaps with a bit too much enthusiasm—toward the first mate’s groin.

“Hey,” he chided, jumping slightly in surprise at the speed of your approaching knee. “Just… be careful.”

“Sorry,” you slowed the movement of your knee, pressing it gently against the towel just below his navel.

Seconds stretched into eternity in that position. Beckman, in an attempt to be as polite as possible, turned his face away to give you some space, his elegant cheekbone exposed to you. You were so close that you could see the details of the X-shaped scar marking his temple, and your eyes traced the small beard adorning his chin. The situation was extremely uncomfortable and awkward, but you both were convinced that any moment now the onsen owner would come and tell you he had managed to close the valve.

But, of course, anything that can worsen, will. So, barely a couple of minutes had passed when you heard Beckman curse again, his body twisting and his arms trembling.

“Darlin'...” His gray eyes locked onto yours.

“Huh?” 

“The pipe... ah, damn,” he grunted, shaking his elbows frantically over you but still gripping the pipe. You noticed large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. “It’s too hot. I—I can’t keep holding it. It’s burning my skin.”

Your lips parted in alarm. “What do we do, Beck?”

“I’ve got an idea… “ He cleared his throat a bit. "take my towel off, so I can use it between the pipe and my hands.”

“What?! No, Beck…” You felt your pulse quicken.

“Got a better idea?” he asked, his tone urgent but calm, his eyes flicking quickly to the knot of your towel at your chest. You followed his gaze, then looked back at him. 

“Oh, NO. No, no, no—”

“My towel, then,” he insisted.

You swallowed hard, and removing one hand from the pipe, you nervously traced the edge of the towel around his waist until you found a corner to tug on. Just before pulling it off, you muttered a clumsy, “Sorry,” which made him let out a genuine laugh that rumbled through his chest.

“Oh, I'd way rather have you see me naked than lose my hands, Doll”.

You forced a shy smile onto your lips and gave the towel a quick yank to pull it free, your eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Alright," he said with endless patience, "now you're gonna need to crouch down a bit to get it around my hands."

This time, the smile didn’t come. You simply gave a curt nod, squeezed your eyes shut, and crouched down to a compromising level, feeling him step back to give you space. You helped him protect his hands, then straightened up as fast as you could, extending your arm to cover the pipe again, avoiding letting your peripheral vision wander too far downward.

And so, there you were, standing directly in front of your bare and broad-shouldered first mate, arms outstretched, each hand firmly gripping a pipe. 

“Could be worse, you know…” Beckman grinned, trying to joke as he noticed the sweat beginning to form on your brow.

"How?" 

"We could be dealing with sewage."

You weren’t sure if you were about to faint or burst into a nervous, hysterical laugh. You didn’t get the chance to figure it out either, because at that moment, you felt the knot of your towel begin to loosen around your chest.

"Oh, Beck..." you groaned, your voice shaky and weak. "I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. I—"

“What’s wrong, Darlin’?” His eyes darted between yours.

“My towel… the knot… I don’t know what to do, I-I can’t…” you said, tears threatening to spill over. 

Beckman couldn’t stand to see you suffering. As first mate, his duty was to protect and care for the entire crew. And the sight of your doe-like eyes, full of desperation, broke his huge heart. So, without asking for permission or thinking twice, he did the first—and only—thing that came to mind. He respectfully shut his eyes and buried his head into your cleavage with a low growl, gripping the knot of your towel with his teeth just as it was about to come undone.

You stood there, frozen, blinking several times as you tried to process what was happening. Your heart started thudding in your chest, and your blood rushed to your temples, your face turning a fiery deep red as you couldn’t contain your embarrassment. And just at that precise and convenient moment, you heard a group of familiar male voices cheerfully making their way into the onsen pool.

The doors swung open, and the room fell into a sepulchral silence.

'Seriously, guys? Here?' you heard someone whisper.

'Well, well, Beck…' you recognized the unmistakable, mocking voice of your captain, singing out with a teasing grin. 'Didn’t expect this from you. So you wanted her all to yourself, huh?'"

You felt Beckman grumble against your chest, and when you looked down, you saw that his ears were even redder than your own flushed cheeks, the contrast with his pearl earrings making them even more striking. Your shoulders began to shake involuntarily as you snorted out a wild, uncontrollable laugh, realizing that, for once in your life, you weren’t the most flushed person in the room.

..........................................................................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita <3

[connorsnothereeither]

How do you make Virgils boards, is there a system or do you just like go ham? I find them very neat and am curious

(idk if this has been asked before but if it has i couldn't find it so-)

I don’t think it’s been asked but I would LOVE to ramble about it omg for sure-

It’s sort of a mix of both! I have the advantage of like,,, Virgil canonically thinks the way I think, when it comes to connecting dots, so it’s sort of just a visual representation of my brain and how I picture the lore, lol. In terms of a “process” though:

I tend to start with a list of important plot points, bits of information, and character details Virgil does know. And obviously most of the time, it’s a a bunch of questions that he’s asking, which I’ve woven those into

From there, I make a list of assumptions Virgil makes based off those facts. Sometimes those are correct assumptions that I know are right because they’re planned lore. Sometimes they’re things that I’m spitballing because we haven’t landed on an actual answer, and it’s sort of like,,, testing the waters with an idea I think is fun, but that might not be canon. Sometimes, my favourite, they’re just completely bullshit assumptions that make sense but are so wild and silly, either for the comedic effect or as a red herring.

Once I’ve got all of those, I do just sort of go ham sketching them out! I tend to cluster them based on vibe and theme, so it looks like an evolution of thought. Here is this idea, here is this idea that relates to it, kinda thing. I also try to make sure that there’s a drawing or diagram per cluster of information, to add more visual interest! I tend to shuffle things around once they're drawn out, trying to see what fits best where, the sizing of things, and whats like, an appropriate connection/space for things to go! (for example in the upcoming draft of the board, I had to decide if i put the section on Luxtant near Avianism, near the Avicane, near the Sorcerers, or near Vast and Rune!)

Also before I do the line art, I tend to add the strings on a seperate layer to test the placement! actually connecting things with the red string is less important to me then how it looks visually. I want “main things,” whether it’s drawings or notes, to be visible. Like I try my best to not have string lines being directly over the top of people, or important concepts! You can for example in the current board in Virgil’s office that like,,, the note about Kalia isn’t covered, or the pictures of Vast and Pietro, but things like random questions about Viviana are covered by strings, because they’re less important to notice upon first glance. It’s a lot of finding a way to use the strings to draw the eyes in places I want them to go.

Then the last step of the process is line art and colouring and finalising placement :D

That all makes it sound like it’s a properly like, thought out process but honestly it’s a big mess of back and forth editing and scribbling and deciding last minute to add things to fill up space and just hope things turn out looking okay lol! But I have a lot of fun with it, Virgil and his investigations and investigative process (especially upcoming with things like Void Sickness) are very fun to play out 🫶

[nothingbutnowhere]

Paid In Full (18+)

The Apartment Anthology

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Contains: 18+, Unethical and creepy maintenance man!Simon, I don't know how else to put this but he comes on your toys in your shower when he enters your apartment for maintenance, come eating, if I missed anything lmk

It could be worse. Really, the building you live in isn't that old or in disrepair, just out of date. There's only been one thing you've needed to call maintenance for.

Despite this, you see the maintenance guy around a bunch, or at least his truck full of various tools and parts parked outside the buildings. The man himself proves to be elusive and you've only seen him when he came into your apartment to fix the heat. Tall, stoic, and handsome. Polite with his face mask and shoe covers. His eyes glance around your apartment, seemingly bored with the way his eyelids droop. Neither of you attempt small talk while he works and you stand awkwardly across the room. He scribbles down some info about the repair on a carbon copy sheet and tears one off for you, nodding when you thank him. His eyes travel down your body, making your genuine smile fade as you silently wish for him to leave.

It's the time when you don't see him in your apartment that causes an issue.

You're a person who likes to play solo. Regardless of whether or not you're getting laid, there's fun to be had in reveling in your imagination while you masteurbate.

And what better place to play than in the shower? Warm, steamy air, nice and wet and sensitive...

So not one or two, but three toys sit in the corner of your shower, their own little city line of dildo skyscrapers, varying in lengths and thicknesses.

Therein lies the problem. You usually keep them there. And why not? No roommates, the only one in there is you!

Until you're not.

You return to your apartment one day to a pink slip sitting innocently on your bathroom counter. The scribble you can barely make out reads: Ceiling fixed- upstairs bathroom tub leak, with the date and an illegible signature.

Your face drains of blood as you look over and see the open shower curtain.

Without a doubt the maintenance guy saw your toys.

Well it's time to leave the country and change your name and start a new life.

But something catches your eye. You step over to the tub and take a closer look. Lines of white streak the toys, some sort of liquid running down them.

That's- no. There's no way. That can't be come.

Against better judgment you reach out tentatively, pointer finger sliding through the mess, which sticks to you when you pull back.

You look at the slip clenched in your other hand. At the bottom, something is written directly on it in pen:

6pm for payment

Ok first of all that's not how that works, and second of all: fuck. He has a key. And you've seen him before, he's huge and muscular enough he can definitely pull the chain right out of the wall if you used it to keep him out. You're screwed. You're going to have to leave the country, this time for another reason. You should march right down to the rental office and demand to be let out of the lease. You should be grabbing your emergency bag and going to stay with a friend. You should be filing for a fucking restraining order.

But you're frozen, breaths ragged and loud in the enclosed space and your heart pounds in your chest so hard it nearly rattles your ribcage. The- stuff- on your finger is a glossy, milky white. You definitely should not be touching it. But you have to admit that deep down the real come (and not your own) on the toys looks good.

You stick your finger in your mouth.

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Part 2

More Simon

So This amazing fic jogged a memory of the maintenance guy seeing my toys in the shower- mortifying btw- so naturally I decided to extrapolate into a fic. Because I'm totally normal!

[artistdove]

Epic Mickey but some of the old concepts were kept. Not sure what to call this? Epic Mickey: Tale of Two Brothers?

Oswald is Wasteland's kind ruler who aims to give whatever he can to himself and his people, and he is willing to do anything it takes. With the help of the Blot and the Mad Doctor, the heart of a certain mouse may be the answer. Mickey finds himself in a world filled with toons from his past and must adventure across this land to get back home. The king here seems kind, but his eyes wreak with hate despite the kindness of his smile. Both brothers mean well in their goals, but how they go about it determines how this story will end.

[milolovesbmc]

The sillies ever, they’re everything to me <3

[calwasfound]

some studies as of late :]

[jessicas-pi]

Sabezra in a fantasy au for the ask game?

I have no idea if this was what you were looking for but it's what my brain invented, so ta-da!

--

Mother had forbidden---Forbidden, actually with a capital F---Sabine from leaving the Seelie realm to look for trouble.

So the next time she got restless, she made sure she'd already found trouble before she left.

Today, trouble looked like a grungy teenage boy, in ratty jeans and a faded orange sweatshirt, stomping through the woods. He seemed like the type she could mess with. Bored with life, discontent, easily fooled. Maybe she could even trick him into following her home for a while and see how he fared there.

(She'd ask him for his name, first, of course. She always did. It was an old trick, and rather overdone, but that was why she did it. If a human was stupid enough to ignore all the old stories and warnings and just tell her that right off the bat, she didn't feel bad about causing them further trouble. They earned it.)

She waited, unseen, until he had passed her by. Then, with a last glance over her shoulder to make sure no one of her mother's Court had noticed her, Sabine slipped through the dark mists that parted one world from the other.

"Hey, there!" Sabine called out at his back. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, looking at her in curiosity, but with far too little suspicion.

Sabine smiled.

This boy may not know what she was---not yet---but if Sabine had her way, he would find out.

Oh, he would find out.

[mossy-paws]

you should draw baby rocket

Technically this isn’t baby rocket BUTTTTTTTT it’s close enough so I hope you like it :33

[theyamjam]

we r getting funny tonight

[cowboylikeyouu]

i really really really want to write a sitcoms style avengers fanfic that’s basically just a himym season 9 AU, like it all takes place over the course of three days (with flashbacks) at steve and tony‘s wedding and it’s just 25 chapters of chaotic avengers family shenanigans with 10000000000 cameos of every marvel character ever

[tumblweeds-omegaverse]

random omegaverse thought:

There must be people who experience specific instinct things with indifference or boredom.

Procreative cycle coming up? "Crap, I've got plans this weekend...stupid skip weeks."

Caught an intriguing scent while walking? "But I need to get to work! Shut up brain."

Had a snap response to a distressed sound? "Who was it?! ...right, it's my day off, I can go back to sleep."

Somebody growled at them? "Kid, I'm not a rival, that's my sibling."

Super cozy cuddle session happening nearby? "I'm gonna pass tonight guys, no social battery left, maybe next time."

Group of friends heading out to flirt and check out other singles? "I'm coming with you but only to make sure you all get home safe."

Setting where fated mates or soul bonds or permanent marks are a thing? "Meh. I don't really want one or care if I ever get one."

People in the actual omegaverse would get as bored of their stuff, as we do of ours, you know? It could be interesting to see that kind of vibe in fics. Biological demands faced with all the excitement of paying bills or doing laundry or tying your shoes.

Even if that kind of energy might not drive a plot, it could be interesting to have as a contrast to the people who do have big feelings about them - good or bad.

There's the friends who can't wait til they have a pack of their own, and the one friend who isn't against it but couldn't care less. There's the group in the office who are all about scent compatibility tests and figuring out one's best match and what sprays most highlight it, and the coworker who has no intentions on putting that much effort in. There are parents who hover and protect their offspring by scenting them multiple times a day, and others who don't see what the fuss is as long as it's done in the morning.

...also: packs with introverts who show care by giving each other space. So often, closeness is depicted through physical touch and tactile affection, but comfortable silence is meaningful too. Knowing people are near, but not having to interact until you're ready. Sitting in the same room doing different things, knowing that all it takes is a "hey, look at this" to share what you're up to. People understanding and accepting each other's differing or fluctuating needs for how and when to recharge. Seeing somebody reaching out or sharing space, beyond what's their norm, as a signal of the fact that they care.

[gophergal]

Any fans of the Thunder God here?