#without fear or desperation hardening his mouth that was meant to smile

[purgatoryandme]

Binghe is still in The Abyss during the "Cang Qiong Mountain Sect vs Huan Hua Palace" saga, but he's perfectly capable of getting out. He's just...hurt and confused and angry and very VERY jealous of what SQQ and LQG had going on last he checked. So before he dramatically leaves The Abyss, he needs to be stronger than LQG. Because he's going to rub that man's face into the dirt until Shizun realizes that Binghe is better. That Binghe can destroy him and also whatever Shizun is scared of. So. He needs to KNOW he's better than LQG. And to know that, he has to have spies on the surface. When they bring back information on the intersect cold war going on he is...so confused. His Shizun? Who pushed him into The Abyss? Was detained on suspicion of aiding heavenly demons? His Shizun who hates demons (him)???????? Sounds fake. But also...Shizun. He can't NOT investigate.

There is some pretty compelling evidence in the demon world that SQQ has been looking into demonic seals. Specifically, with Zhuzhi-lang. Demons think SQQ is seeking to seal something, while Huan Hua argues that he's trying to free TLJ. It's all very baffling. The only real important things he learns are: 1) SQQ is in the Water Prison.

2) LQG is planning to change that, sect politics or no sect politics.

This is, concretely, something he can do better than LQG. He can beat LQG to Shizun. He can even whisk Shizun away - demon mark aglow - and nobody in the cultivation world would seek to save him with this final condemnation. Sure it's a change of plans, but he can roll with this can't he? Shut up Meng Mo, this is a great plan.

Cue both LQG and LBH succeeding, simultaneously, in breaking into the Water Prison. Cue them both losing their minds at SQQ tied, beaten, and bleeding in the middle of a platform, suddenly looking terrified (because those two should NEVER EVER be in a room together, not Post-Abyss, this can't be happening-) Binghe takes a step closer to LQG, Xin Mo drawn, and SQQ flinches. And a lot of things click together for LQG. Luo Binghe is a heavenly demon and he certainly isn't dead. SQQ clearly knew both of those things. He's been looking into the sealing of TLJ. SQQ is also afraid.

This, here, is the enemy LQG has been training himself to fight. He's right. He's also very very wrong.

As LBH and LQG turn on each other, an eerily similar mad glint in both of their eyes, SQQ lets a little something something slip in his desperation: "Liu-shidi is not permitted to die for this master again-"

And this does not help the situation even a little bit.

Genuine SVSSS angst thoughts, but I've always been curious about what SQQ would have done if, in his downward spiral (Jinlan city arc would be BRUTAL for this, but I'm thinking during Plantzun era), Binghe had actually killed LQG. On one hand, that's the plot fulfilled. LQG was always meant to die in the story and nobody is allowed to challenge the protagonist. On the other hand...LQG is the one character that broke SQQ's preconceived notions from the start. He's SQQ's first plot-breaking action, a true test of his ability to be OOC, proof that he CAN change things. He's also SQQ's friend. SQQ runs away from his feelings until he can't, doesn't take the story seriously (or thinks he doesn't) until it's clear to him that it hurts others, constantly reinforces and justifies his unwillingness to do anything about The Problem of Luo Binghe with idea that the world will bend to LBH's whims and there's nothing he can do to stop it unless it's to help Binghe or himself specifically. He's never had to face losing another person through that passiveness, through The Plot as he allows it, through LBH as the vessel carrying out that loss. What kind of mental gymnastics would he have to do to get over it, knowing that he emotionally processes pretty much 0% of what happens to him? Could he even manage that? Given a redo, what would he do? He can't convince LQG to NOT protect him, not after saving his life, and not saving his life is unacceptable. He can't leave LQG's rescue to anyone else, knowing that it's part of The Plot that he'll die! He can't run away - the system will never allow that, role-locked as he is. Just SQQ trying to play 5D chess against The System, having absolutely no idea that LBH never wanted him to die to begin with, making incredibly convoluted choices to keep LQG alive...and, as a consequence, himself (not even temporarily dying!!), since the idiot will apparently DIE for him. Force-grinding LQG's cultivation with wife plots and artifacts and eye-twitching intensity as LQG begins to suspect that there's something SQQ is afraid of.

[blueicequeen19]

Something Borrowed

Warnings: non-con, forced marriage, creampie, cheating, unhinged Rafe

I lean back in the chair, my eyes locked on the swells of her ass as she screams at her father while he signs the contract. She probably thinks her life is ending with the swipe of a pen but I'll prove to her that it is just beginning.

The moment I saw her was enough for me. The fact that she was born with a backbone and an educated smart mouth were just added bonuses. I didn't want to treat her like a piece of ass but that's all I could think about currently.

I adjusted myself as my cock hardened painfully in my slacks. I was half tempted to check if she was wearing any underwear under her skin tight pencil skirt when the pen dropped on the desk and all the air seemed to evaporate from the room.

"Done." Her father said, his eyes staying on the desk.

"This is not done." She shouted, snatching up the contract as I stood. She'd meant to rip it in half but I grabbed her wrists before she could, pinning her against the desk with my body. Fire and disobedience radiated off her as she glared up at me like I didn't have six inches on her even in her heels.

"Rip it up if it makes you feel better." I leaned in close, making her arch her neck as her nostrils flared. "But nothing is stopping me from making you my wife." An adorable growl met my ears and I couldn't help but smile smugly.

"I'll never marry you." She spat, rolling her lip in disgust. I shifted so my erection was pressing firmly against her stomach. I watched the realization dawn on her and how her eyes tracked down my body before she released the contract to shove at my chest.

"Ugh!"

"Pack your shit or I'll do it for you." She opened her mouth to argue but I held up a finger, silencing her. "And if I have to do it for you, I'm taking the bare minimum and you'll ride in the trunk." I glance back at her father but his eyes are still downcast, his shoulders hung in defeat. I couldn't leave without her knowing that he'd sold her off. I didn't want to be the only one she hated.

"You should know that you did your father a great service." Her brows raise just as her fathers head does, his eyes wide with fear. "Thank your lovely daughter for paying back your debt. Why sell a couple vacation homes when you could just offer up your daughter?"

"You said--!"

"Are you--!"

I lead her from the room just as the shouting starts. I motion for someone to get her stuff as the office door slammed shut. I let her call me every name in the book while attempting to hit me as I navigated us to the car waiting out front.

"I don't want this!" She cried, shoving me again in the chest.

"Too bad."

"Are you so desperate for a wife that you'd blackmail someone into getting one? Is your dick that small?" I barked out a laugh as I pushed her back against the car. I seized her wrist in my hand and made her feel how hard I was. She resisted, her eyes widening in alarm.

"Would you like to drop to your knees right now and find out how small I am?" Her nostrils flared as her hand tightened on my shaft. I flexed the muscle and she jerked away, an adorable blush heating her cheeks.

"Do you think I've had any complaints about my size?" I ask, licking my lips as she avoids looking between us. I cup her chin, forcing her to look at me.

"I bought you because I wanted you. I could've had anyone on the island but I chose you."

"I don't care."

"Maybe you should. Your family would be bankrupt if not for me. I could’ve liquidated everything, leaving you and your mother in the gutter with your loser father but I didn’t.” Her eyes widen as she sniffles.

“Maybe you should be the one thanking me. With your lips around my cock.” I lick my lips, loving the way her eyes track the movement before she blinks, ruining the moment with a shake of her head.

“If you think I’d ever let you—.”

“Let me? Baby, I own you now.” I fist her hair and slam my mouth down on hers. A startled noise leaves her, allowing me to slip my tongue inside. I kiss her like I’ll die if I don’t. All but fucking her with my tongue. She tries to keep up, humming against my lips when a slap suddenly meets my cheek. I laugh, breaking the kiss to see her panting and fuming, her lips wet and swollen from our kiss.

“Trunk it is.”

The weeks before the wedding are nothing short of amusing. Her temper tantrums seem to be the most exciting part of my day even if they cost me thousands of dollars. I’ve decided to surprise her with her wedding dress since she’s destroyed the last two I’ve given to her. Not to mention flushing an engagement ring that cost enough to buy a house.

Now the wedding day has come and it’s taken more threats to ensure she gets down the aisle than not. Especially since she revealed she had a Pogue boyfriend that she would not give up. I warned her what would happen if I ever saw them together.

The very thought has me seeing red and I’m taking off down the hallway to her en-suite before I’ve had time to reconsider. The door is locked but I quickly slip in a master key. I can tell immediately that something is up. The room is empty and quiet. I move past the bed and to the bathroom as my heart starts to race.

She’s fled. I’m sure of it.

A whimpered moan from the other side of the door has my body flooding with rage and I’ve thrown the door open without a second thought. They both jump away from one another but it’s the white lingerie that she’s wearing that makes me snap. That was supposed to be for my eyes only. And now he’s had his filthy hands on her.

“Oh no.” The words barely leave her lips before I’ve grabbed Maybank but his shitty cutoff and landed a fist to his gut. I hit him again and again. Unable to squash the memory of his mouth on hers even as she hits me. I finally stand, blood on my sleeve as I guide him by his hair back towards the bedroom.

“Damnit, Rafe, stop!”

I shrug her off as I yank the handcuffs from my pocket that I was planning to save for our honeymoon. Her eyes widen as I secure one of Maybank’s wrists to the foot of the bed.

“What are you doing!?” She cries as I start to strip out of my tux and down to my boxers. I don’t even care anymore as I secure my tie as a gag around Maybank’s mouth. He’s bleeding and dazed but he’ll quickly come around. I don’t want him to miss a thing.

“Wake up.” I smack him across the face and he groans, blinking at up at us.

“Rafe, stop! What are you doing?”

“Giving you your something borrowed.” I snarl, fisting her hair and shoving her to the carpet on her knees. My cock grows painfully hard in record time as she struggles, her doe eyes pleading up at me. Her hair and makeup are ruined and I’m past the point of caring if her cheeks are streaked with makeup in our wedding pictures. This is her fault.

“Open up.” I free my cock, letting it spring free in her face as she fights my hold.

“I’ll bite it off.” She spats.

“Do it and they’ll never find his body.” I warn, drawing her closer by the hold I have on her hair and pressing the tip to her lips. JJ grunts angrily behind his gag, yanking on the cuffs.

“I’m going to ruin your life for this.”

“Looking forward to it Mrs Cameron. Now suck.” I force my way into her hot mouth, groaning immediately as she takes me deep. Her throat contracts as she gags but she doesn’t stop or resist as I begin to fuck her face. It’s better than anything I’ve ever felt and for some reason Maybank’s anger only makes me enjoy it more.

“She’s pretty good at this.” I say allowed, not taking my eyes off her as Maybank yanks harder on the cuffs. I’m on the verge of cumming too soon already as my attention lock on the swells of her tits, bouncing with every rough thrust down her throat.

Just as I’m about to unload.. I pull free to immediately wrap my hand around her throat. She’s an absolute mess but she’s mine.

“What—.” I force two fingers down her throat to cut her off.

“If you want to act like a slut then I’ll treat you like one.” Her eyes narrow even as she gags, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth.

“If you want to spread your legs for someone then by all means, spread them.” I pull my fingers free and shove her onto her stomach on the carpet. The crotchless thong she’s wearing gives me a perfect view of her pretty pussy and the arousal that’s coating her thighs. I’m immediately even more pissed off that the fucking Pogue was so close to what’s mine.

“Goddamn.” I pull her hips back and line myself up with her entrance.

“Rafe.. wait..” I slam forward to the hilt, earning a cry of outrage from her and the Pogue.

“Face down.” I shove her head to the carpet as I pull half way out only to shove back in again. She’s so wet that I glide in and out with ease but she’s still so fucking tight. Feeling the way she opens up only to choke the life from my cock might be my new favorite thing.

“Fuck, baby.” I grunt, not slowing my pace as her moans fill the air. My balls are drawn up tight and I don’t stop myself from releasing inside her wet cunt, not caring if she gets hers or not. She glances at me over her shoulder with a look of pure sexual frustration. I’d think she was on the verge of begging until Maybank yanks against his restraints, attempting to kick me.

“One more thing.” I sink two fingers back into her pussy, showing my cum in deep as she sighs in relief before yanking back out and smearing my cum across Maybank’s face. I step on his knee as I stand, making him thrash in pain and anger.

“You wanted my sloppy seconds so bad so there you go, fucker.” I yank back on his hair, making him look at me. “Come near my wife again and I’ll feed you to a gator.” I snarl, rearing back and decking him one last time for good measure. I turn just as my pretty little wife makes a beeline for the door despite being in lingerie.

“Nope.” I snag her around the waist and toss her on the bed before turning towards the garment bag on the back of the door.

“You’re insane!” She shouts, looking even more delicious when she looks freshly fucked.

“No, insane would be making you walk down that aisle in your crotchless panties with my cum running down your legs. I’m at least letting you put the dress on.” I toss it at her but she doesn’t move, glaring at me under her matted lashes.

“I’m not going out there like this. I’m a mess.”

“You had your chance to do this the easy, clean way.”

“My father will kill you.”

“And what will he do to you if he finds out you’re fooling around with a Pogue on the side?” Her eyes widen for a moment because narrowing back into her perfect scowl.

“You embarrassed me so I’m embarrassing you. Now get dressed. I want to be able to look back on our wedding pictures and see how beautiful you look after being fucked for the first time by your husband.”

[aventurineswife]

Can you do a swap au of pressure Sebastian x reader?

“Good Luck Out There”

The cold, damp air pressed against the walls of the makeshift shop. The flickering light from the overhead bulb cast eerie shadows across the piles of strange and dangerous items that lined the shelves. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

A muffled, distant thud echoed through the corridor outside. Another prisoner, probably desperate for a scrap of hope, was about to stumble into your shop. The constant flow of new faces, always grim and weary, had become a tiresome routine. Your tail twitched, flicking slightly at the sound, the pouches on it jingling as they shifted.

You opened the vent.

Sebastian, clad in a dark prison jumpsuit, crawled inside, the weight of his knees scraping against the vent, echoing louder. His expression was as hardened as the man you'd once heard about—a criminal—no, a prisoner—who had been wronged in the eyes of the system, even if you weren’t certain whether he actually deserved it or not.

You eyed him, your eyes narrowing. "Another one." you muttered, a smirk playing on your lips.

Sebastian didn’t flinch. He stood still for a moment, scanning the dimly lit room, eyes betraying no hint of fear. "I need supplies," he grunted, his voice heavy but cold, betraying nothing of the deeper pain he'd no doubt buried deep inside. "If you can help with that, I'll make it worth your time."

You snorted. "Worth my time? Now that is a laugh." You uncrossed your arms. You were irritated, but you didn’t exactly mind helping him, either. "What’s it this time? Looking to arm yourself or something?"

Sebastian hesitated before replying, his eyes flicking over your tail before meeting your gaze once more. "I need anything that'll help me get out of here." He clenched his fists, a subtle tremor betraying his words.

You snickered. "Trust me, I get it. The feeling of betrayal... the promise of freedom that never comes. It eats at you, doesn't it? What I don't get, though, is your apparent faith that this little shop of mine will make all your problems go away."

Your gaze swept over the various items laid out for purchase: Batteries, Hand-Cranked Flashlight, [Name]'s Document, Medkit, Flashlight, Code Breacher, Flash Beacon, Lantern.

"Alright," you grinned, tail swishing. "You’ve got yourself a deal. But remember," you added with a cold, toothy smile, "don’t flash me, or I won't hesitate to kill you myself."

Sebastian tensed, his brows furrowing, but he didn’t respond right away. You could see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the situation carefully.

Then, he spoke again, his voice low, almost like a whisper meant only for you. "You should know, I've got my own enemies here."

You chuckled darkly, your voice smooth as it slid from your throat. "Enemies? Who in this hellhole doesn't have enemies?" You leaned in, your eyes gleaming with an eerie, unsettling glow.

The moment hung in the air, thick with tension between you two. Sebastian regarded you with that unreadable expression, his own thoughts veiled as well. Despite your differences, there was a shared sense of betrayal in the air. You had both been cogs in Urbanshade’s hands, you both had been manipulated by them.

Before Sebastian could respond, a noise came from the corridor, signaling an entity awaiting him.

"Get ready," you said softly. "Things get ugly around here."

Sebastian took a step back, eyes alert. He nodded, his mouth set in a hard line. "I can handle myself."

You smirked again, this time more genuinely. "We'll see. We'll see."

"Hey," you called out just before he made it to the vent, "you missed the keycard. Don’t bother trying to leave without it. You won't get far."

I need to freshen up my memory because I clearly have forgotten everything about pressure :')

[zaharya]

WIP Excerpt — "the Elend fic"

Thanks so much for the tag @nuttersinc ! Alas, I also don't have any Merthur for y'all, but the beginnings of a Mistborn fic. May I introduce you to Vin and Elend, loves of my life—they are the height of romance, actually. (And canon, even!)

This fic isn't published anywhere yet, so it doesn't have a proper title yet either; I've been calling it "the Elend vs Kelsier fic" though, because Vin's found father figure does not approve of this canon-divergence I invented (not telling you which part is the divergence).

~~~

“She’s Mistborn.”

Elend’s stomach dropped. Mistborn. They’d been engaged for months, and Shan had never even mentioned that she was an Allomancer, which meant…

“She was planning to kill me all along,” he breathed, the full weight of what Valette was saying finally hitting him. Assassins. Someone—Shan—had tried to kill him, had gotten as close as the roof above his room. It was a miracle he was even still alive! If not for the incredible luck of that man falling through—

“And she won’t give up just because she failed once,” Valette said.

His gaze caught on the makeshift bandage around her arm once more, dark and wet with blood, and he sucked in a sharp gasp as it all clicked into place. Not luck.

“—not safe here,” Valette was saying, either unaware or uncaring of Elend’s shock as he blinked at her, stupefied.

“You fought her off,” he stated stupidly. The slight cringe cracking her grim expression was confirmation enough. Elend felt faint as the realisation of what that meant slotted into place. Only a Mistborn can stop a Mistborn.

Another secret uncovered. He had learnt more about Valette in this one night than he had in the entire time since meeting her.

“For now,” Valette replied. “The other Mistborn caught up to us before I could—” She broke off, mouth twisting unhappily for the briefest moment as her unspoken words rang loud and clear in Elend’s head. “She will recover quickly—” Her eyes darted away to scan the surrounding darkness. “—if she doesn’t send someone else after you immediately. Her other Mistborn will have found someone to tend to her by now, if he returns before I can replenish my metals—”

Fear seized Elend’s lungs, and he reached for her without thinking. “You can’t fight a Mistborn! I mean you can, clearly you can, you did, but you can’t—” He floundered, his grip tightening desperately on her shoulders. “You’re bleeding.”

To his surprise, Valette’s expression softened, a faint smile ghosting across her lips. “You’re right.”

“I am?”

She nodded, face hardening again as she straightened up. Elend let go of her shoulders. “I managed to beat Shan with a trick, but I’m out of atium; I won’t last a full minute against a Mistborn without it. Which is why we have to leave, come on.”

~~~

Tagging (without pressure) @swordsmans, @multishipperpirateking, @svtboo, @the-furthest-city-light, @loopeyfluff (I take a sketch darling, it counts), @nymph1e and everyone else who feels like having a go at it!

[aemonds-sapphire]

Fire Meets Gasoline - Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Sex with Dabi rarely goes as expected, and that is exactly why you can’t get enough of him.

Warnings: NO MINORS! NSFW. Pure filth (seriously). Cumplay. Quirkplay (? Is this a thing? Basically just Dabi heating up his hands and using them on you), Cockwarming. Creampie. Vaginal fingering. Overstimulation.

Word count: 4.8k

If you had to pinpoint the exact moment when you realized there was no escaping Dabi, it would most likely be the first time he kissed you.

After a month of denying and suppressing how attracted you felt towards him, you finally caved in.

You would potentiate each other just like when fire meets gasoline. It started off as a gentle flame, but it soon increased in both size and intensity.

The young man was filled with anger and was the embodiment of pain and sadness, but you were equally as broken. He hadn’t expected you to retaliate the poison that would drip from his mouth.

What Dabi had failed to consider was that you knew exactly why he was keeping people at bay. He didn’t necessarily hate everyone. But anyone could become a threat.

So he’d rather push people away.

What he had also not considered was that fire needed oxygen to burn. And that most of the time, the walls we build around us aren’t meant to keep others out. They will just fence you in.

You could bear him being cold to you as a defense mechanism, but he couldn’t deny his fiery nature for long.

“Beautiful...”

There was something so innately blissful about having Dabi cracking his hardened surface to display this beautiful side of him.

It would have your heart fluttering and your breath coming out in shallow pants as you experienced having his vulnerability be given to you.

“So. Beautiful.” He went on, accentuating his words with gentle kisses along your jawline.

You allowed your fingers to rake across his scalp, feeling his soft hair tickle your skin.

“Do it.”

He knew exactly what you meant by that. His quirk was powerful and dangerous. You had had the opportunity of witnessing him go berserk with rage and cast his trademark blue flames around his targets. The heatwave that had hit you was surely enough to have you jolt in fear. Dabi had to live with the consequences of not being able to control himself when using his quirk. All the patchwork across his body was licking proof of that.

However, the sense of danger had adrenaline rushing through your veins, and feeling the feared villain light up his quirk just enough to warm his hands was definitely an aphrodisiac.

Dabi stopped and pulled back, beautiful turquoise eyes meeting yours. He was truly breathtaking. No scar in his body would ever be able to take away from how handsome he was.

He flashed a boyish grin at you — one that you had grown to adore — and you felt the mattress shift lightly as he positioned himself between your legs.

The sight alone was enough to send sparks rushing down your spine. Dabi took his sweet time admiring the view, capturing his bottom lip between his teeth.

“See something you like?” You teased as you spread your legs farther apart.

He ran the palms of his hands slowly along your thighs, his eys lingering on your panties. “Pull them to the side, doll.”

You took a deep breath, knowing fully well what came next. He was too fucking good at this, and he was aware of that. Sex with him just felt like a whole new experience each time since he refused to stick to patterns. There was always something new, and that just added to the thrill.

Too bad you weren’t feeling like complying with his demands.

“Do it yourself.” You shrugged, slowly adjusting your panties to further accentuate your pussy lips.

You should know better than to challenge Dabi, but quite frankly you didn’t give a fuck, because it would just work in your favor in the end.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warned, keeping his voice calm, but his hands betraying the impatience as the grip on your knees increased. “Push them to the side... now.”

“Make me.”

Too bad Dabi wasn’t feeling like complying with your demands either.

Even though his room was poorly lit, the moonlight was more than enough to make you your jaw clench when his brought one hand to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Oh, he was fucking cruel.

Another teasing smile danced on his lips as he noticed your eyes glued to his crotch. You were too weak for this man. There was no way around it. No matter how hard you tried to prolong the mouse and cat game, you always caved.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from his hand, especially when you saw it grip the growing bulge that he squeezed lightly.

“Seems like we have an issue, then, doll,” he chuckled, giving his clothed cock a few pumps. “‘Cause the way I see it... you really want this, uh?”

It took two to tango, so you tugged on the your panties once more, feeling the damp fabric rub against your clit and making you wince. You had underestimated his ability to have you dripping for him.

Your panties perfectly outlined your pussy lips, a silent invitation to the hungry man before you who wasted no time in dragging one finger along your covered slit.

“Doll...”

You flashed a devious grin while arching just slightly. “No.”

He had his other hand tightly gripping his cock, and you could see a discreet wet spot staining his sweatpants.

The scenery had you licking your lips in anticipation. “Let me see your cock, then.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You first.”

One of you would have to give up first, and there was only so much resistance you could pull off when it came to Dabi leaking precum because of you.

You hooked one finger around the lace of your underwear, painfully slowly pulling it to the side, the wetness clinging onto the fabric.

A low growl erupted from him. “Fuck.”

He pressed on your clit with his thumb just so he could hear you moan for him. It was swollen enough to be seen through your pussy lips, and that drove him crazy. The ultimate proof that you wanted him was at the tip of his fingers, quite literally.

Your eyes instinctively closed as he continued teasing you, spreading wetness along your folds. It came with no surprise that your hips would involuntarily buck against his hand.

“Dabi...”

“Look at me,” he asked, his voice visibly strained as he circled your clit back and forth with the pad of his thumb. “Open your eyes.”

You did as you were told, and, through hooded eyes, you found yourself staring at him dragging the waistband of his pants down, successfully freeing his hard cock.

He halted his ministrations at once, only to have your entire focus on him.

Just as you had imagined, a few strings of precum were dangling from the tip, and he gave his cock a few pumps just to squeeze more from him.

Dabi positioned himself closer to your pussy in order to have his precum drip directly onto your clit.

You bit back a whimper as his thumb mixed the liquid with your wetness. “Dabi... oh my—“

The word died in your throat as you felt the tip pressing against your entrance. Was he that horny to jump right into the main course?

He sighed. “I really need to fuck you.”

It was crude and it surely wouldn’t win any awards as the most romantic declaration ever, but it did win points in getting your pussy to clench as more wetness spilled from you and coated him.

He applied just enough pressure to have his tip slide inside you. “Let me fuck you... please.”

The urgency in his voice had you melting. How could anyone resist this request?

He leaned over, brushing his lips with yours, but keeping his hips in place. You threw one arm around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss. You could feel both hand gripping your things, and you figured it was taking all of his willpower not to slam his cock fully inside you.

But what’s life without a bit of fun, right?

Dabi hungrily suckled on your tongue, but you felt him freeze in shock. Both his eyes shot open and he gasped.

Oh. You loved it whenever you were able to get that reaction from him.

So you did it once again.

And he shuddered.

He was panting heavily as you contracted around his tip. Despite your heavy state of out, you still had a few tricks up your sleeve.

“Fuuuuuuuck....” his voice was coming out in broken and deep breaths.

Self-control definitely wasn’t Dabi’s forte, and you knew that you were playing with fire. Literally. You suddenly felt his palms heat up against your skin as the grip on your thighs tightened.

“Let... me...” He breathed, his face dropping to the crook of your neck. “Just...”

The safest course of action would be to indulge his request, but you also wanted to help him build up the ability to control himself once he got pushed over the edge. He had even asked this of you not long ago. It was hard for him to hold back when using his quirk against heroes and even harder when facing his father. So Dabi craved to be able to do so when having sex with you.

“Reign me in...” He had once asked of you.

He started licking and taking a few bites off your neck, the warmth of his hands never wavering.

You brought on hand to his face, carefully caressing the metal rings that traced his skin.

“How badly do you want it?” You asked him, squeezing around his tip once again. In reality, you knew exactly the answer to that question. His desperation was answer enough.

But you were now treading on a dangerous territory.

His teeth dug into your skin before he let out a moan. “Let me fuck you...”

You angled your hips in order to have him slide out of you. “Tough luck, Dabi. Control yourself better.”

The grin on your face widened when a pair of angry eyes met yours, and the heat coming from his hands increased ever so slightly.

He wasn’t smiling.

Well. Fuck.

He pushed his own hips to meet yours again, but this time he had his cock placed directly between your soaked folds and rubbing up against your clit.

Your grin dropped in an instant, and a he let out a satisfied chuckle. “Not so funny now, right?”

Dabi kept on sliding his cock up and down, coating it in your juices. The wet sounds that filled your ears were enough to have you fists the bedsheets, and it served as a further incentive for him to keep on teasing you.

One hand was placed directly beside your face so he could support himself as the other went to join his cock. The heat coming from is fingers was maddening and he pinched your clit, trapping it and sending jolts of pleasure across your entire body. Goosebumps prickled your skin as you felt a heatwave reach your cheeks. It wasn’t just coming from your own body’s reacting to the stimulation, but also from his own hand.

“Where’s that pretty smile now?” He rasped, focusing on your face twisting from bliss, otherwise he might let his composure falter.

“Dabi... fuck... fuck...”

It was really taxing having to keep his quirk at bay and only allowing a certain amount of heat to flood the palms of his hands. It took a lot from him to having to exert so much self-control. It was twice as demanding having to keep his dick from plunging inside you.

“What do you want, doll?”

“Please... just...”

Not so amusing now that the tables were turned, and you gripped the sheets tighter until your knuckles turned white. You wouldn’t last much longer if he kept sliding his cock in between your pussy lips like that.

Your eyes locked with his, and your opened your mouth in an attempt to say something, but only moans spilled from you.

“Just what?”

He pulled his cock away and replaced it with the palm of his hand. The metallic hoops had heated up significantly and when he dragged a few across your clit, that was when your body reached a new high.

“Oh my — oh my fuck—“

Dabi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. You looked so delicious, and he didn’t even know how he was being able to withstand the discomfort coming from his cock. He would need to be buried inside you soon. It was such a waste to have you clenching around nothing when you could be milking him instead.

But he wanted you to reach your orgasm first.

He was so used to watching things come undone out of rage, that watching you come undone from the pleasure he gave you just made his cock throb. The thrill of building you up just to have it all crumbling down in the most alluring way possible was something he could not get enough of.

Your body had started writhing and convulsing, forcing him to lean back and press one hand on your hip to keep you in place.

“Good girl... that’s it...”

You had your thighs desperately wrapping around him in the hopes of him filling the emptiness.

Dabi was going insane from how responsive you were being to him. To his quirk. He had grown up forced to live with the remainders of what it had done to him. The thought of having it being used to give someone pleasure was so fucking fascinating. Yes, it was exhausting to keep it at a low intensity, but the high outweighed the exhaustion by far.

The familiar sensation built up more and more, until it washed over you in a deep wave of pleasure. A shriek ripped through your throat from your lungs, and behind closed eyes you could see colors dancing over your vision, accompanying the molten streaks of pure bliss that shot through your entire body with every flick of the metallic hoops on your clit.

Dabi couldn’t resist it any longer.

He needed to feel you.

In one swift motion, he slid his cock balls deep inside you. Your pussy welcomed him with strong and rhythmic contractions that sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He had to balance himself on both arms from the sudden overload of pleasure. It was clear he wouldn’t last long. The amount of teasing and foreplay was enough to sent him into overdrive.

Your fingers went up to grip his forearms as if holding on for dear life. Having his cock buried inside your pussy as you came made your mouth drop open. You felt your walls clamp around him viciously. He pulled one of your legs up to rest on his shoulder, spreading you enough before he started slamming against you with such force that the bed started squeaking from the motion.

He was mumbling something, but you couldn’t quite make out what it was as you descended from your peak. Your heart pounded hard against your chest, but still not as hard as he pounded your pussy.

“Stop... squeezing... fuck!”

The overstimulation hit you like a train, and you felt tears stinging your eyes. Your fingers would leave marks on his arms, but you doubted he cared about it.

“D-Dabi... I...” you tried to reign him in, but gave up when his lips crashed into yours.

He was thrusting into you with an animalistic ferocity, all sense of control finally coming to a end. You’d clench around him whenever he hit a sweet spot inside you. The moans that came from within in were so hot that you couldn’t blame your clit for pulsing and your pussy for squeezing his cock.

Suddenly, you felt one hand groping your breast, fully enjoying how it bounced and defied gravity with each snappy strike from his hips. His eyes slid shit and his mouth was hanging open in a silent hiss.

You wanted to bring him over the edge. You wanted him to give it all to you.

To prove your point, you snaked an arm between your bodies and flicked at your clit just so you could your pussy to clench harder around his cock.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Through the stings of overstimulation the need to have him come undone for you was just ecstatic.

That it for him. His eyes snapped open and the most beautiful growl rumbled in his chest.

“You are so... fuck...” Was all he managed to say before he began pumping in a final broken rhythm.

“Fill me up...”

The effect those words had on him caught you off guard.

Dabi let out a strangled moan as he buried his cock deep within you. “Oh... fuck...”

He shuddered a few times, emptying himself inside your pussy just like you had encouraged him to. You could feel a few streaks of cum coating your walls, and it almost sent you back to another orgasm.

He was panting heavily above you, cock still lodged inside you. When he looked up to your face he saw a few tears leak from your eyes due to the overwhelming overstimulation. Without thinking, he brought one thumb to wipe a clear droplet from your face.

Dabi no longer remembered how it felt like to cry without physical pain from having bloody tears spilling from where the staples held his skin together.

“Dabi?”

He shook his head and blinked twice. “Sorry...”

You didn’t want him to apologize for this. “It’s okay... don’t be sorry.”

Instead, the young man leaned forward and tasted the salty liquid that smeared your skin, wiping the tears away.

You couldn’t contain the low chuckle that erupted from you. “That tickles...”

He didn’t want to slide out of you just yet. Your warmth was too welcoming and comforting. If he had to find a name for it he’d choose home. Intimacy had been so scary to him. The vulnerability of it all had always frightened him, and for the longest time he didn’t think he would ever have this. Casual sex was good, but sex with someone you had an emotional connection with felt so much better.

Dabi let his body tumble to his side, physical exhaustion finally taking a toll on him. However, he slid one arm over your lower back to keep you tied with him.

His hair was sticking to his forehead from all the sweat, and you took some time to inspect a few strands through hazy eyes.

You gently brushed the damp hair away from his skin. “You need to dye your hair again.”

“Hmm.”

The roots of his white hair were starting to show, and even though you’d love for him to embrace his natural color, you knew this was not something for you to decide.

Some wounds took longer to heal.

His cock was starting to soften inside you, but that had no effect on him.

“Planning on sleeping like this?” You offered, but only half-joking.

His hand thoughtlessly caressed your back, and you shuddered as the metallic rings dragged along your skin. “Actually...”

Wiping a few beads of sweat from your face, you arched a brow. “What?”

A squelching sound filled the room as he slid off of you, and you couldn’t help but to pout at the sudden emptiness.

Dabi, on the other hand, seemed to have something else in mind as he got on his knees again, placing himself in between your legs.

It didn’t take long before you started feeling the warm liquid ooze from you. That definitely earned Dabi’s full attention as he watched in admiration.

“Proud of yourself?” You questioned with a gentle laughter. Just as you were about to prop yourself on both elbows, he had one hand on your shoulder, keeping you in place, as the other hovered near your pussy. “Hey! Dabi...”

“I want to do this...” he whispered, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was just thinking out loud.

You had a faint idea of what he had planned next, and, if so, it would be something new for you both.

The young man hesitated for a split second before his middle finger joined the index, slowly collecting the few strings of cum that had pooled between you and the sheets. Not even five minutes had passed since your body had been sent into overdrive, and you could feel your insides twist in anticipation and you clit throb from the newfound stimulus.

Dabi paused once more.

Although, you’d been affectionate with each other for over a month now, you could still identify the remnants of his struggles with intimacy in moments like this. It had taken him quite a while to open up to you emotionally. It had taken him a great deal more to give himself to you physically as well.

You couldn’t help the loving smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Go ahead...” two of your fingers rubbed your swollen clit briefly before spreading your pussy lips invitingly.

That was all the incentive he was looking for, and in one swift mention he slide both fingers inside you, dragging his cum back inside once more.

He hissed deliciously when he felt you clamp around him. “Fuck...”

The hand keeping you down faltered, and you immediately seized the opportunity to position yourself in a way that gave you a privileged view of what he was doing to you.

“So much cum... fuck...” Dabi’s words came out in ragged pants as he fingered you slowly. “Don’t clench, doll... it will spill out again.”

“Then stop being so hot...” You half moaned, trying your best to fight against your reflexes. Your pussy was practically on auto-pilot. The obscene sounds that filled the room just made the task so much more difficult.

It didn’t take long before his turquoise eyes darkened and you watched him capture his bottom lip with his canine.

Oh fuck... he was getting hard again.

His cock was twitching ever so slightly, growing before your eager eyes.

“Dabi...” You weren’t even sure of what you wanted to say. The sight alone was enough to have your clit throbbing, but his thumb pressed on it was what had you involuntarily clamp down on his digits in a way that dragged a long groan from him. Even if he was someone who had to ability to mask his true emotions, the pleasure was splattered across his face.

You felt your pulse quicken further and shuddered from all the stimulation.

Knowing fully well you wouldn’t be able to comply with his request, he removed his fingers from inside you at once, bringing out a whine from deep within you.

A faint smile pulled at Dabi’s lips. “So responsive...”

You wrinkled your nose at him. “You’re stalling... please...”

“I’m taking my sweet time with you, doll. What’s the fun in rushing?”

His finger glistened with the mixture of your juices with his cum. Suddenly, his hands went to your ass to positioned you on his thighs. A very effective way of preventing any further leaks, no doubt.

Just as you were about to question why the sudden change in positions, he plunged one single finger back inside your pussy.

“I wonder...” he started out as if lost in contemplation while he coated his fingers once again. “Hmm...”

“Dabi...” you warned him in a low voice.

You were growing impatient. Very impatient. The heat between your legs along with your throbbing clit were driving you absolutely insane.

He was an expert in making you lose your mind, and he’d always use this to his advantage.

His cock was already growing harder and bigger with each passing second. You’d be more than willing to have one more orgasm, and considering the way you were clamping around him, and the blinding heat jolting through your clit and nipples, it wouldn’t take you too long to get there. The young man pressed your clit down with his thumb, circling it with just enough pressure to gather the most delicious moans from you.

“Good girl... you look so hot,” he encouraged, and you felt a pair of fingers spread your pussy lips. “Fuck... I wish you could see this.”

You were so close.

So damn close.

But things with Dabi had a way of rarely going according to plan, and just as you shut your eyes in anticipation for another high, the infuriating sensation of withdrawal made you whine.

“Put that back! Dabi! What the fuck?”

You were left clenching around nothing and he merely chuckled at your distress. “I don’t think I will, doll.”

Propped yourself up on your elbows. “I will end you. Fuck!”

He didn’t really care. Nor did he take you seriously. You sank back into the mattress, wiping the beads of sweat that had formed in your forehead.

“For fuck’s sake...”

You felt the bed shift beneath you as he leaned forward. “Open.”

Wait...

This was new.

Your eyes widened once you understood what he meant. His long index finger was a few inches from touching your lips, a few droplets falling onto your chin. The thick layer of both cum and your wetness covered the entire digit, and you oiled even see some wetness spread along the metal hoops carved into his skin.

Oh. That was fucking hot.

“I won’t ask again,” his demanding voice quickly snapped you out it. “Open. Your. Mouth.”

A part of you wanted to tease him and put up a front just to rule him up, but another part of you — a much more urgent and impatient one — just wanted you to let go and enjoy the ride.

The moment you parted your lips, he promptly shoved his finger inside your wet mouth, faintly teasing your tongue with it.

You suckled on it slowly and sensually, never breaking eye contact with him.

He hissed softly. “How does it taste?”

“You tell me.”

Acting on pure instinct, your hand went to the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Dabi’s widened in sheer surprise as you darted your tongue inside his mouth, allowing him to taste the liquid. You weren’t sure if he was enjoying it, but his body language was pretty telling after a while, so you kept going.

There was something really hot about having Dabi taste his own cum directly from your mouth. Maybe next time you’d have him lap at it from your soaked pussy.

He broke the kiss to take a deep breath, thin threads of spit mixed with cum and your wetness linking both of your lips together.

You smiled teasingly. “Good, right?”

Dabi licked his lips before wiping the excess with the back of his hand. “Well played, doll.”

For a few seconds all you could hear were the ragged pants coming from both of you. You looked down and noticed that his cock was fully hard, probably getting ready for the next round.

“Want me to take care of that?” You wiggled your brows at him.

He followed your stare, but rolled over to fall flat on his back, one hand wrapping around his cock while kicking his sweatpants off.

“It’s okay, doll. I know how much you love watching me jerk off.”

Ah. Damn. He was right.

The metallic hoops provided an interesting friction whenever he applied enough pressure. Considering he had nearly half of his palms covered in a single row of staples he just had to get used to the feeling, and soon enough he had found a way to have those work in his favor.

You shifted on the bed to scoot closer to him, and have your head resting on his heaving chest. As expected, you started feeling his cum leak from your pussy.

The two of you lay there in a comfortable silence for a while, until you felt his heartbeat and breathing evening out against your ear. He was lazily pumping his cock, but it didn’t seem like he was too invested in the task at hand.

You raised your head to look at a very much sleepy Dabi.

An instant loving smile fell on your lips.

“You asleep?”

Was that a smirk on his face? Adorable. “Yes, doll.”

He looked so peaceful. You’d never get over post-sex Dabi. Ever. You had witnessed his full potential as a villain, but you were just now getting to experience firsthand what it felt like to have someone like him opening up to you.

A few more minutes passed by, and you watched as he let go of his softening cock. You took his now free hand in yours and laced your fingers with his.

“You’re changing the sheets.” You mumbled to him when you felt more liquid ooze from you. Not that you actually minded the current predicamen.

He scoffed. “Your pillow talk fucking sucks, doll.”

[plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms]

Nemesis: Retribution (4)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOUR (18+ ONLY. I WILL BLOCK YOU), voyeurism, exhibitionism, authority kink, praise kink, spanking, slight dom themes, polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, mentions of character death, fluff if you squint, 

A/N: Slowing it down just a bit to move plot along. Freaking out on the reblogs and comments are encouraged and will be rewarded with cookies. Seriously though, I love hearing what you guys think and use some of it to make the next chapters better. I adore you all! Have at it!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:4 Apple Crumble

Steve Rogers had kindly offered for you and your team to stay at the Compound. For however long this mission would take, you were all going to start running straight at it early tomorrow. In terms of the mission, he was relieved to have your help. The sooner the serum was out of circulation the better and they truthfully did need your help. This underground world was more your scene now and you could better navigate it.

On a personal level, he was glad that you were sticking around even if it was on a contract. He would take whatever opportunity he can and make the best of it. That's how he's always been and he wasn't going to change that now.

He told himself that it was because he was the Captain that he was at your door this late after you all had agreed to part for the night. It was out of consideration that he carried with him some of his own clothes to offer you in case you needed something to change into. It was out of a need to clear the tension with you now that you were going to work as a team again that he was knocking on your door.

That was all.

You opened the door a moment later wrapped only in a short towel and with your hair still dripping wet from the shower. The smile that rose on your face was sly as you leaned on the doorframe with your arms crossed and your hip cocked to one side. He swallowed.

Maybe that wasn't all.

"What can I do for you, Cap?"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was far too distracted by the little droplet that rolled down from your temple to the valley of your breasts. He shook his head and cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus only on your eyes and not the inappropriate answers that sprung to mind at your question.

"I brought you a change of clothes in case you need it," he managed to say. "And I wanted to talk to you if you're not too tired."

You opened the door wider and took the clothes from him without a word, turning into the room toward the bathroom. You casually dropped your towel to the floor and Steve choked at the sight of your bare back, a small set of black panties the only stitch you wore. The breath in his chest released only when you disappeared into the bathroom, the door cracked open offering him enticing glimpses as you moved around.

Steve hurriedly closed the door behind him and as he made his way further in, he caught sight of an open go bag beside your bed with clothes clearly visible. There was also a shirt and sweats beside it, the design he knew belonged to Pietro. He felt a little embarrassed. Of course Pietro would have already beaten him to it and that your team always came prepared. Still there was a satisfaction that bloomed in him when you stepped out clad in his shirt, the hem barely reaching mid thigh and bare feet soundlessly crossing the carpeted floor until you came to sit with him on the sofa. You tucked your legs under you and rested your head on your hand over the back of the seat.

"Gotta say I like this look, Steve," you grinned at him.

He chuckled, self-consciously rubbing at his beard and pulling at the hair at the back of his collar. The light dusting of red on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"What? You don't like the all American apple pie look?"

You hummed and took a leisurely look at him from head to toe. Rugged and imposing as he appeared, the heat on his face intensified at your obvious appreciation and the way you swiped your tongue along your bottom lip. You were biting your lip when your eyes met his again, trying to stop yourself from laughing at how flustered he was getting and how much you were enjoying it. You've always found Steve handsome and he made apple pie look damn good, but this look on him was just so dangerously delicious.

You had a type.

"I'm more of an apple crumble kind of girl. I like the texture better," you winked. "And I don't mind a little beard burn."

"Will your team mind that I'm talking to you without one of them here?"

You raised an eyebrow and held his unsteady gaze, clearly understanding he meant more than just your professional relationship with the three men.

"You're curious."

"It's none of my business. That's not what I came to talk to you about," he stammered, unaccustomed to how forward you were.

"What did you want to talk about then?"

"I wanted to apologize properly and thank you for agreeing to help."

You groaned and threw your whole body back on the seat, causing Steve's shirt to ride up just shy of completely flashing him. You sat back up and pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a long breath. It was only the fact that it was Steve that you were even entertaining this conversation.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Steve," you firmly dismissed.

"I do, Nem. We all do."

"Fine. List down what you're sorry about. Let's go through it one by one or we can draw lots to make it interesting."

"Nem," he said, low and clear with warning yet imploring you to listen. "Can you take this seriously for one second?"

The ever present smirk on your face dropped as you sighed heavily and ran a hand through your hair. For the first time since he's seen you, your expression softened a fraction and a shadow of the person he used to know passed across your features.

"Listen to me, Steve. I don't blame any of you. I'm not angry at any of you. I honestly have no room for more anger even if I wanted to be."

In the beginning you were. There were days while you were getting tortured that you hated them while you pleaded to the heavens for them to rescue you. It had taken a decade and three incredible men for that inferno of fury to turn into a manageable bitterness.

"Do you know how tiring it is to be so fucking angry all the time?" you chuckled darkly. "It took a while, but I learned to prioritize what I choose to be angry about."

"Salvacion," he muttered and you nodded, your eyes staring blankly forward.

"I've carried that name for a decade, Steve. That asshole has to die by my hands."

Steve saw now how selfish he was for forcing the conversation with the purpose of earning your forgiveness. It was for easing his own guilt that he was doing it when instead he should have just been thanking you for what you did and had to endure.

"Why didn't you ever come back?"

"I tried, Steve. When I was recovered enough I tried to go back. Did you know my sister had a girlfriend?"

He shook his head, throat suddenly closing at the sight of absolute misery in your eyes. He regretted starting this conversation even more.

"Jill. She was amazing to Lily and she was like a sister to me too," you smiled a little, not in your usual sarcastic way but with a hint of gentle fondness before your expression hardened once more.

"I saw her and I just couldn't bring myself to face her. I'm the reason the love of her life is dead. I couldn't, Steve"

It started off with the fear that they might have killed Jill too. You told yourself you had to know, but truthfully you were trying desperately to find a connection to Lily. You found her visiting the graveyard, laying flowers on two stones and spending the afternoon sitting on the ground tearfully talking to the dead. The shame burned through you and from then on you made it your sole purpose to destroy the man who took Lily from you both. Until then you had no right to face her. You had no right to return to the life you once knew.

Steve noticed that you weren't crying although the look in your eyes was swimming with grief. He expected you to cry, but somehow seeing you with dry eyes only made you look more in pain. You only clenched your fists, your shoulders tense and your jaw stiff. Steve decided he would tell the others instead of having you go through this conversation again.

He would do that for you.

You woke up surprisingly refreshed the following morning, strangely lighter than you have felt in the past decade. You didn't expect for that talk with Steve to have such an impact on you. You smiled ruefully, remembering your many counseling sessions with Curtis before and that maybe you were finally seeing his point.

FRIDAY had directed you to the larger conference room for today's briefing session with the rest of the team. You were wearing another one of Steve's shirts paired with your usual cargo pants, a fact that didn't go unnoticed judging by the raised eyebrows and teasing smiles. Billy in particular was leaning in to whisper to Matt what was going on.

"You don't have to tell me. I can smell it," Matt chuckles, crinkles visible at the edges of his dark sunglasses. "His cologne is quite distinct."

You smacked Billy on the arm, but laughed with them as well before throwing a wink at Steve who proceeded to blush a deep red. As you took your seat, a cup of coffee suddenly materialized in front of you accompanied by Pietro's ever bright smile. You smiled gratefully and took a sip, eyes slightly rounding in surprise at the taste.

"You remembered how I took my coffee."

"I've forgotten nothing about you, little star."

You haven't taken your coffee that way in so long. It's been just strong plain black coffee lately, the lack of sugar and cream where you lived with the boys being a factor. It had seemed pointless to eat something sweet when there was a permanent sour taste in your mouth from life. Now though you couldn't seem to help taking one sip after another, licking your lips before going in for more.

Right now this tasted right.

You didn't notice that Billy was smiling adoringly at you and sharing a look of approval with Frank as the briefing began, happy that someone aside from him was spoiling you. You certainly didn't know that Matt was smirking because he heard your heart literally skip a beat at the sweet gesture.

It took hours for the meeting to wrap up, but there was still more to do before you could actually take action. A number of the Avengers were sent out to gather more intel while the rest would stay to make further preparations.

"I only really need to talk to Frank a bit more," Steve said as he approached your group. "Why don't we have Pietro show you guys around the Compound? There are some improvements I think you'll find interesting."

Your tour guide for the afternoon appeared beside you, taking your hand in his and bouncing on the balls of his feet in his excitement. He was just too cute that you couldn't help but let out a small smile. The effect he had on you remained it seems.

"A tour would be really helpful for me," Matt easily agreed.

"And I go wherever the pretty girl goes," Billy added, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

"Great. Surrender your weapons and you should be good to go," Steve asked with a pointed look at both you and Billy who groaned in answer.

Billy was ready with a string of complaints and counter arguments when the clang of metal on the glass conference table stunned him into silence. He watched in complete disbelief as you removed every gun and blade attached to your body, efficiently dismantling them and lining them up on the table.

"Is she?" Matt murmured, leaning closer to Billy.

"Yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah."

By the time you stepped back, there was practically a decent sized armory on the table. How and where you managed to fit all of it on your person was a mystery to them.

"You missed one," Billy said, snapping out of his daze.

He stepped in front of you and casually slipped his arm up the front of your shirt and under your sports bra. His fingers grazed unnecessarily close to your now hardened nipples and he simply winked when you raised an eyebrow at him. Billy pulled out two small throwing daggers soon after and placed them alongside your other weapons.

"Oh yeah. I keep forgetting about those," you chuckled.

"Do you always come armed to the teeth?" Bucky snapped, clearly bothered by the display.

"She doesn't want her team to carry extra ammo for her, Sergeant," Billy scowled at him, the obvious animosity surprising Bucky. When he turned back to Pietro, his expression was back to his usual playful one. "So how about that tour?"

Frank turned to Steve when you had exited the room. "You gotta teach me that trick, Cap."

"What trick?"

"First time in 10 years I've seen her take any kind of order without a knife fight first," he said, cracking a smile and shaking his head.

It turns out that coming back was doing some good for you and this made him more comfortable around the Avengers. He wasn't about to braid them friendship bracelets but he was less inclined to pop a cap in their ass. At least for the time being.

Walking around the Compound brought back some of that wonder you felt when you first stepped in, but it recalled everything you had lost. Sensing the sudden tension in you, Billy gripped you by the waist and pulled you into his side. He kissed your temple, a silent reminder of what you had gained.

Pietro had been an absolute sweetheart, specifically describing what was in the area for Matt's benefit and pointing out the changes to you. The training area was your last stop, the place you had spent the most time in during your short stint here. There were loud sounds coming from the area and walking in you saw fresh-faced recruits in paired off sparring sessions.

Your full attention was on Pietro as he happily listed off the new features and answered questions from Matt and Billy, the latter now in businessman mode as he thought of what he could implement for Anvil. You were having an unusually pleasant time until a familiar shrill voice demanded your attention.

"Well look what the street cat dragged in. Y/N?"

You knew that voice. A decade with torture and trauma included apparently couldn't change how much her voice grated at you. The cold smirk made a reappearance on your face as you slowly turned to face her, the three men with you were instantly alarmed at the change in your demeanor.

"Kim," you nodded.

"Thought you were dead."

"Thanks. Can't say I thought about you at all though."

"I see you're still pathetically clinging to Pietro."

"What can I say? He's really cute," you said with a wink at Pietro who seemed to enjoy the compliment.

She sneered at you, her irritation rising when you weren't backing down like you used to do. She couldn't quite put her finger on what had changed about you, but you seemed rougher around the edges and far too cocky for her liking. Luckily, she still remembered a sure-fire way to take you down a few pegs.

"I'm teaching a class on hand to hand combat. How about we show them a demonstration on what a real fight looks like?"

You giggled as your smile grew, a disturbing sight that made even Kim doubt herself for a moment. You nodded your head in easy acceptance and she looked like she was pleased at herself for getting this opportunity. Before you could step forward though, you found Matt's walking stick blocking your path.

"What? It's not assault if it's provoked," you grinned at the frown on his face.

He hated it when you found loopholes, but he relented with a heavy sigh. He was too used to this. He leaned toward Pietro and told him that he should inform the Captain.

"Get some snacks too, roadrunner," Billy chuckled, delightedly watching you strip off your shirt and walking confidently towards Kim on the sparring mats.

Pietro had returned a moment later after completing his task, actually handing Billy a bag of fresh popcorn. The smile on his face froze when he caught sight of your bare skin. So far all he had seen as evidence of your torture was what was visible on your neck and face. He had stupidly brushed that fact aside, too excited to have found you again. Now the vicious marring on your beautiful skin was a cruel reminder of their failure as your team. They had failed you.

He had failed you.

Back in the conference room, the same feelings were shared by two super soldiers. They had pulled up surveillance on the training area after Pietro's message, just in time to see you take off that shirt.

Bucky felt the air leave his lungs at the horrific sight. He was alive and you had paid a heavy price for saving him. He could barely keep his eyes on you, the shame burning through him. He didn't want to imagine the amount of pain you had to endure to sustain those injuries.

"Don't you people dare look at her with pity," Frank warned. "Those scars are a testament to her strength. She's damn beautiful."

Steve agreed. He'd caught a glimpse of your scars last night and jarring as they were, your complete lack of self consciousness to them just made you more alluring. Looking back at the screen though he was concerned that you could hurt yourself. Kim was a top agent now, high enough in the ranks to be training recruits and leading missions. She had proven herself deadly in combat, but the way you were grinning was chilling in itself.

"One question before we start," you said.

"What?" Kim scoffed, flipping her braided hair over her shoulder.

"When's your next mission?"

"2 weeks. Why?" she answered, perfect brow raised in confusion.

"Just calculating your recovery time," you shrugged. "I'm nice that way."

Kim predictably charged at you then, growling and cursing at you under her breath. You smirked, standard SHIELD movements were easy to read for you. You stayed completely still and relaxed in your stance as she lunged at you with her fist. You timed your movement precisely, sidestepping at the absolute last moment. One hand grabbed at the back of her head, forcing it down to ram against your oncoming fist with a sickening crack.

Broken nose.

Kim shrieked in pain as the blood gushed from her nose and she tried to pull away from you. You didn't let her. You pulled her down by the shoulder to bend her over before driving your knee up her midsection. She wheezed at the impact, the mat below her smattered with her blood.

Bruised ribs. Maybe slightly broken.

You unceremoniously threw her aside, letting her fall groaning on her side. You clicked your tongue, watching her struggle and turning to the class she was supposed to be teaching.

"Lesson 1, kids," you waved your hands in Kim's general direction. "Don't end up like that."

Broken ego.

You turned to go back to your boys when the glint of metal caught your eye. You tilted your head just in time for the dagger to zip past your eye line, only thinly scratching at your cheek. Your hands reacted on instinct, reaching for the small hidden pocket along the waistband of you pants. You flicked the thin blade with deft fingers, embedding on the mat and landing it purposely close to Kim's eyes that it cut through her fake lashes.

"Nem!" Steve's unmistakable voice boomed through the speakers. You had forgotten that they had FRIDAY everywhere. "We said no weapons."

You rolled your eyes and smiled cheekily at the cameras. "It's just a nail file. I don't like keeping blood under my nails."

"You call that training?" Steve groaned rubbing his eyes and turning to Frank.

"I call that anger management," Frank said, amused at how unpredictable to handle they already found you when they've barely scratched the surface. He noticed how Bucky looked furious, his metal hand clutching a little too hard onto the table. "Don't like what you see, Sarge?"

Bucky didn't answer. He didn't tell them that he didn't like what he saw because he knew he was a major contributor in what caused it. If only he had been kinder, gentler, more honest. Maybe things would have turned out differently.

He walked down the hallways much later gripping a first aid kit in his metal hand and nervously running the other through his cropped hair. The cut on your face was barely anything, but he needed an excuse to talk to you. He was afraid you would turn him away, but he was terrified that you wouldn't. He didn't know what to say to you. He didn't know how to begin to apologize for everything he's done. His palm grew sweaty and beads were beginning to form on his brow.

He was only a few steps away from your bedroom door and he was sorely tempted to turn back around when he noticed that it was cracked open and he could hear voices from inside. He should have followed his instinct to keep his distance but a high whine that definitely came from you pushed him to peak through the small opening.

What he saw made his already thumping heartbeat grow quicker. His eyes grew wide and his throat went dry. Whatever he was expecting, it definitely wasn't this.

You. Stark naked. Grinding your mound on someone's face.

You looked absolutely glorious as you wound your hips in your chase for release; head thrown, back arched, and lips in a dreamy smile. The view he had of you, facing him and deep into your pleasure, was enough to cause his pants to tighten. He couldn't see which one of your teammates was beneath you, the bedframe blocking his view. Whoever they were, Bucky was jealous. He wanted to taste you too.

He felt that stirring of longing again now as he watched you in the throes of passion with another man. He felt it the moment you stepped back into their lives. He felt it during the 10 years they thought you were dead. And he felt it when you were still in training as a recruit every time you smiled at Pietro and Steve.

You picked up your pace and he could see muscular arms reach up to grip your waist and pull you down harder. You were panting curses, your breathing turning erratic and Bucky could see your thighs begin to shake. The sight of you coming undone has to be the most entrancing thing he's ever seen.

Movement from you and your partner pulled him from the hypnosis caused by your erotic display. His face heated up, deeply embarrassed at having watched you for so long and finding enjoyment in basically violating your privacy. He was about to leave when the man whose face you had been riding, came up to kneel behind you.

He pulled your hips back against his own, sliding his hard length easily into your dripping cunt causing you to moan so deliciously that Bucky felt a shiver run down his spine. You reached your hand up to grip the back of his head, letting him bury his own in your neck as he set a languid pace with his thrusts.

Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened, locking directly with Bucky's. You smirked and reached down to circle your swollen bud, pressing your back further against the hard body rutting behind you and purposely putting on a show. You winked at him.

He bolted out of there.

"That wasn't very nice, honey," the low voice was thick with lust in your ear. His breathing was growing labored too, finding your heat wrapping around him overwhelming.

"I don't see you stopping, Captain."

"How can I when you're gripping me so tight?" He snapped his hips earning a sharp moan from you. "Did you like that? Torturing my best pal with me balls deep inside you?"

You sighed and closed your eyes. Apple pie Steve wouldn't have whispered such sinful things to you, but this Steve could make you cum with just filthy words alone.

"Yeah, you did. Look at you clenching and soaking my cock from having Bucky watch you. You like being bad to him, honey?"

A sudden smack to your ass had you snapping your eyes open. He chuckled into your neck, biting down hard on the juncture as he felt you gripping him even tighter.

"Answer," he growled, landing a harsher smack to your bottom.

"Yes! Yes, Captain, I did."

"Good. Will you be good for me now, honey? You caused a bit of trouble today." His thrusting was still slow, making sure you felt every ridge and vein with each stroke as he drove you into a stupor. "Will you be a good girl for your Captain now?"

"Yes, Captain."

He smirked against your skin, pleased at your compliance. He was reveling in the power he had over you. Frank had said that you never took orders without a fight, but here you were being so good for him. Pliable. Yielding. He was enjoying it.

He gathered your hair in one hand and pulled, your back arching beautifully and emphasizing where his cock was buried deep inside you. With each thrust his cock came out glistening with your slick. The image made him lose control, abruptly escalating his pace to rail feverishly into you.

He had you gasping and clutching at the sheets instantly, begging for him to go harder and push you over the edge. He bent over you and reached around to rub furiously at your throbbing clit.

"Cum like a good girl, honey. Cum around my cock," he commanded. "I wanna feel you fucking drown me."

You came, lights dancing in your eyes and your head empty of all thoughts aside from the pleasure that racked your body. He followed soon after with a loud grunt, the sensation of you fluttering around him too much to resist.

He fell on top of you, spent and satisfied. Your sweat and heavy breaths mingling together as you both tried to return back to the world. You liked the heavy feel of him on top of you, strangely finding comfort in the weight.

He dragged you with him when he rolled off you, spooning you and planting kisses on the back of your shoulders that had your skin tingling from his beard.

"When are you going to put him out of his misery?"

"When it stops being fun?" you chuckled.

Steve wasn't going to push the issue. He knew that it was up to you whether you forgave Bucky or not and when that would be. It would be on your own terms how things moved. Just like what happened between you two. He wasn't expecting it, but the heated argument about the injuries you inflicted on one of his best agents had somehow escalated into him spanking you and you growing wet from it.

Not that either of you were complaining.

You turned around in his arms to face him, looking up at him with a taunting smirk. "You sure your old heart can take being in a polyamorous relationship?"

He chuckled and pecked your lips before going back in for a much deeper kiss that had you swooning. When he pulled back, he was looking at you lovingly.

"I'm known for waiting too long about things like this. I lost my shot at you 10 years ago. I'm not missing out on you again."

His words were firm and genuine. He honestly thought that he would mind having to share you with several other men. He thought that he would feel jealous and possessive. Instead, he felt reassured. He knew that wherever and whenever he lacked, someone else would pick it up and he would be the same. There was a sense of relief knowing that you would always be taken cared of by people who felt the same for you as he did.

"Well then you have some making up to do for waiting so long," you said nibbling at his lower lip.

He groaned and grabbed your thigh, hitching your leg up on his hip. Your thighs and core were still sticky and slippery from both your releases. His tongue dove into your mouth and he could feel you moan against his lips as he ran the tip of his cock against your still sensitive core. Your nails dug into his back as he sunk in, fitting perfectly inside you.

"You're running with a super soldier now, honey," he said, eyes burning with want. "I can do this all day."

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A/N: Some asked about Jill and Kim so here you go, lovelies. Come freak out with me in the comments and reblogs. Thank you all for the support! More coming soon. 

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[navegandoaciegas]

Cloud nine

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, pwp, watersports, dom/sub undertones, dom!bucky, sub!reader, reader calls bucky daddy, creampie.

Summary: You’ve never had an orgasm during sex, and Bucky is determined to make you come, no matter how unusual your request may be.

A/N: I have no words lmfao just- don’t read if pee bothers you please.

Frustration pooled in your stomach, festering on your negative emotions.

Bucky slumped beside you, cheeks flushed, drool and sweat all over his face as he clinged to your chest, catching his breath.

You’d been going at it for hours, and he’d fucked you in all the positions on the book, changing pace and angles to hit every spot inside you until he’d come in your aching cunt more times than humanly possible and you’d run yourself dry.

He’d praised you, degraded you, slapped you, kissed your tears, made soft love to you and fucked you like a rag doll, fingered you until his fingers cramped and wrinkled, and you hadn’t come.

You always treaded the edge, so close yet so far from reaching the crest of your high, only to fall back down without ever being able to let yourself crash.

“Sorry,” he panted softly in the crook of your neck, right hand tracing soothing circles on your hip.

“‘S not your fault.”

“I know, I just-”

He interrupted himself with a huff, drowning his unspoken words in your skin.

You’d had this conversation numerous times before.

It wasn’t him, as no other partner had ever been able to make you cum either. They hadn’t even cared enough to worry about it.

It wasn’t you either, nothing in your anatomy, at least.

You liked Bucky, you desired him. Just looking at him too long made the walls of your cunt throb uncontrollably. And you had no trouble making yourself cum on your fingers, even without any toy or porn involved, just the thought of him and his fat cock inside you.

You’d been dating for months now, and he hadn’t given you a single orgasm yet.

You could see it begin to tear down his confidence, flooding his mind with insecurities he’d confided you with, how he feared you’d leave him for someone better, or you’d tire of him and move on.

With a bitter smile you’d replied that he’d be the one to leave for a better partner he could pleasure, and from then on Bucky hadn’t mentioned it anymore, but you could see the doubts plaguing his mind, twisting and turning his thoughts in grey clouds, draining him everytime he came and you didn’t.

You felt broken, and he felt guilty.

You needed to find a solution, and you needed to do it fast.

-

Your therapist was a nice woman, stern when needed and caring at times, and yet you couldn’t fucking stand her whenever she repeated the same sentence that your gynecologist had told you already.

The more you worried about your orgasm, the harder it would be to cum.

An easy concept to grasp if you weren’t the one struggling, if orgasms came as easy as eating and breathing.

You huffed in frustration, one hand in your sweatpants as you lazily fondled with your clit, the other scrolling through a porn website, looking for a video that would get the job done for you, eager to release the stress of your day at work.

You scrolled through staged videos that would only aggravate you, women who squealed loud enough to hurt your eardrums and men too rough for your liking. Pov’s, plumbers and housewives, gangbangs, vintage and fake taxis.

You could feel the irritation build up inside you when, reached the 23rd page, you hadn’t found a video that would satisfy you yet.

Famous pornstars, amateurs, thousands of bytes of porn that made your thumb scrolling on your phone cramp, until you stumbled upon a video with a title so debauched that you felt compelled to click on it.

And so, an idea, admittedly not your best one, began to form in your head as your fingers worked your clit furiously to bring you over the edge.

Bucky had been surprisingly eager to try it out when you’d mentioned it whilst you brushed your teeth on a random morning, excited even, almost as if he’d meant to ask all along and never built the courage to.

You’d tried a lot of things, and you had nothing to lose at this point. So, you’d lined your mattress with plastic sheets, and hoped for the best.

-

Soft lips nipped your neck, peppering the column of your throat with wet kisses.

You registered the sheets rustling beneath you and Bucky’s silky hair tickling you.

You blinked your bleary eyes, adjusting yourself to the gentle morning light seeping through the blinds, painting your room in intricate shadows.

“Mornin’,” you croaked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Like every time that Bucky spent the night at your place, you’d wake up to his lips and hands all over you.

“G’mornin’, princess,” he mumbled, hands getting bolder, hiking up your thighs.

It didn’t take long for Bucky’s touch to ignite the fire in your core, warmth pooling in your lower belly as he cupped your cunt over your shorts.

He pulled away from your neck to look at you in the eyes, pupils dilated by desire.

Bucky was always so eager, pouncing on you at any chance he got. He was especially needy on weekend mornings, where he could take his time with you and make love to you until he’d be exhausted and you’d be, well, happy to participate.

His hand slipped under your shorts, lazily stroking your clit, still swollen from the night before.

“Already so wet for me?” he noted, gathering your wetness on his fingertips and smearing it over your sensitive bud.

A breathy gasp escaped your parted lips, followed by many others as he continued to work your cunt. Your walls throbbed in anticipation, and you bit your lips, eager for his cock to fill you to the brim.

Bucky continued peppering your neck, clavicles, chest with kisses, hiking your t-shirt over your tits before he attacked your nipples with his mouth.

It felt like being on cloud nine, having him take care of you so good, brain turned to mush as you let him do anything he wanted to you.

The same negative thoughts that swirled in your mind everytime you had sex with Bucky flashed behind your eyes for a fleeting moment, reminding you of how you wouldn’t come even this time, despite your efforts. You willed yourself to focus on the moment, on the small jolts on electricity in your cunt, on your hardening nipples, and heaving chest.

His warm mouth latched on your nipples, suckling them between his teeth, tongue swirling on them.

“Bucky please,” you whined, growing impatient with his teasing, “Fuck me already, please.”

He chuckled, head buried between your tits.

“Careful when you talk to me, little girl.”

“Or what?”

A mischievous grin spread on his face as he descended down, tongue tracing your stomach, belly, hip bones, peppering kisses and bruises until he reached your silk shorts.

He threw one more look at you before biting the fabric and slowly tugging it down your legs.

You kicked the shorts away and spread your legs, revealing your glistening cunt to Bucky’s hungry eyes.

“Fuck,” he groaned, resuming back to sucking bruises on the soft skin of your inner thighs, “Such a pretty pussy, princess.”

Fire spread through your body when his warm breath hit your lips, and the anticipation before he closed his mouth on your clit sent shivers down your spine.

“Fuck yourself on my mouth, baby girl. Show daddy how good you are to him, how much you want his cock, hm?”

You didn’t need to be told twice, and started grinding your hips on his face while he lapped at your folds, drinking up your arousal.

A soft sigh, followed by a hiss and a high pitched moan were ripped out of you when Bucky pushed two fingers past your entrance, curling them inside you.

You continued the steady rhythm, fucking yourself on his face until the familiar tension began building in your cunt.

“Just like that daddy,” you shrieked, “Make me cum, please, please.”

You kept going, speeding your movements, chasing your release, thighs quivering around his head, reaching higher, and higher, and-

And then it was gone, snuffed like a weak flame in the wind.

You tugged on Bucky’s hair, and brought his face to yours in a desperate kiss, slanting your mouth against his. You tasted yourself on his tongue, tangy and musky.

He ground his hips on you, growing more and more desperate by the second.

He never lasted long in the morning.

“Fuck me, daddy, please, wanna feel your cock inside me,” you whined, wiggling your hips.

“Can’t say no to you, princess.”

He had such a pretty cock, not too big, veiny and flushed. You wanted him in your mouth, in your pussy, between your tits. You wanted him whole, and it frustrated you so much that despite your wants you couldn’t satiate your needs.

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, and pushed his cock inside you with one swift motion, until you were full to the brim and his balls slapped against your ass.

He hauled your thighs over his shoulders, folding you under his weight.

“So tight,” he spat through gritted teeth, fighting against the urge to burst as you snapped your hips up.

One of his forearms rested laid your head while the other hand came to rest on your neck, not cutting off your air but as a clear warning to stop moving around.

“Move, please” you begged, mind hazy with pleasure.

It always felt so good when his cock stretched you out, when it rubbed on your gummy walls, a ring of white cream pooling just above his balls.

It always felt good, and that’s why you hated it. It always gave you the illusion that this time you’d come, just this once you’d overcome your problem and have an earth shattering orgasm like you deserved.

His cock kept hitting all the spots inside you, your walls pulsating around him, suffocating him in a tight grip.

“Daddy? Can we- can we try that thing?” you moaned, sneaking a hand between your bodies to furiously rub your swollen clit.

“Yes, fuck, that’s so hot, God, I’m gonna do it, okay?” he grunted, picking up the pace of his pace, harder, faster, spurred on by your high pitched shrills, until his movements grew sloppier.

“Ask me nicely,” he snarled, furrowing his brows and gritting his teeth.

“Piss inside me, daddy. Use me like the fuckin’ dirty whore I am.”

The room was filled with the squelching sounds of his balls hitting your ass and your drooling pussy. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and he came gripping your thighs so hard it would surely leave a mark.

His cum spilled inside you while your walls milked every last drop.

You closed your eyes, willing your body to relax as he rested his head on your chest. His hand shoed yours away, roughly rubbing your clit.

You could feel his cock go soft inside you, his warm cum spilling out of your pussy.

It was building up inside you, the tension from before. You hiked high, and higher, and your legs were shaking, body shook by jolts of electricity.

“Fuck,” he hissed, grinding his teeth.

You moaned, his name on your tongue like a chant.

And then, Bucky sighed, eyes shutting in bliss as he released inside you.

Never in your life has you felt quite as warm, or full, as his searing hot piss filled you in from the inside, invading your cunt and overflowing out of you.

So hot, so full, so high that you couldn’t smell the pungent scent of his piss or hear anything other than your frenzied heartbeat in your ears.

“Daddy, daddy, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

And then you were cumming around his soft cock so hard that your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Your body twitched and spasmed as a long awaited orgasm wrecked through you, wiping your mind blank for several seconds.

When you opened your eyes again, Bucky’s soft smile greeted you. Everything felt hazy, like having your head underwater and cotton in your mouth.

He nuzzled your nose, picking your limp body from the bed and carrying you to the bathroom.

“Daddy is so proud of you, princess.”

-

Not proofread sorry 😬

Please reblog and leave a comment if you can! 🥰

[wandsandwheezes]

Jealousy | G.W

Warnings // 2.6k // 18+ SMUT,   jealousy, sex, gagging, exhibitionism, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, overstimulation, use of pet names, bratty behaviour, dom/sub vibes, aftercare.

A/N // Hi the first smut of the year and it encompasses everythingI want from george weasley <3

The thing that made George Weasley tick the most was people eyeing up his girl. It got him riled up beyond belief, but the ever proud man he is, he would never admit to getting jealous over it. He'd simply let the jealousy get bottled up until it burst. For the most part you ignored the male attention you got, choosing to pretend that you simply didn’t see the lingering stares while nevertheless enjoying the way your boyfriend’s grip tightened around your waist or how he’d stalk over and pull you into an electrifying kiss. His actions quickly told you exactly how he felt about other men’s eyes drinking you in, you were his to devour and his only, so to say that you didn't play into that only the slightest bit is a lie. 

You didn’t mind lending a hand in the shop on the weekend, especially when it meant being able to spend more time ogling your lover and the way his muscles tensed as he picked up boxes, how his smile would flash as his inner child came out with all the demos, how easy it was to sneak a kiss in his office and most notably how lovely it was to share lingering glances across the shop as you worked on the tills. George liked having you around because every part of him wanted you close to him, that was why it twisted the knife that little bit more when he saw you lean over the counter just a small amount, giving the man you were serving a view of your perfect chest that his eyes had been locked onto. 

The action alone had him clenching his fists together, the vein in his neck popping out as he felt that bubbling jealousy reaching its capacity. Part of him had forgotten that he was holding onto some of the products he had been adjusting on the shelves, counting himself lucky that he hadn’t broken the glass bottles in his hand. He was next to you as soon as you were waving the customer goodbye, mumbling under his breath as he signed you off the till, inputting his own till code to deal with an admin task. “What the fuck was that all about, doll?”

“Sue me for me wanting to make a sale, baby” You smiled, resting your head against his bicep as you waited for him to finish up with his task, dainty hand snaking around his back to hook your fingertips gently through his belt loops. He was finding himself in heaven just by being able to breathe in your perfume.

“Those goods aren’t for sale.” He laughed, a smile hiding the sheer amount of boiling jealousy that was stirring inside of him, he raised his eyebrows and made sure to get a good look of what you had on show, wanting nothing more than to rip open your shirt, so he could see the bare tits that he loved in full view of the afternoon rush. 

“Funny one George” you smirked, hand dropping from being slinked around his hips, a hand that he quickly catches, pulling you so that your chest is pressed directly against his, causing a small gasp to fall from your lips at the impact, looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile before pressing a warm kiss to your cheek, a direct contrast to the callous words whispered low enough for only you to hear.  “I’m fucking serious, you’re mine.”

You knew that if he had said those words in the comfort of your own home his voice would have been several octaves deeper than his usual conversation’s tone, cut thick full of seduction as he tugged your shirt off of you, but here he had to keep himself restrained, on the low. He would bend you over the counter right now if it weren’t for the shop full of people; it wasn’t unfamiliar territory to be bent over something as George had his way. Lucky for you though, today you could be as bratty as you wanted, he would have to keep himself under wraps until you were alone. 

George had sulked off in his office, causing you to follow the man you were intent on annoying all around the shop like the needy girl that you were until he gave in, trapping you between his body and a shelf of potions, careful not to push to hard in fear of drawing attention to himself. You opened your mouth to protest, only to be met with his pointer finger to your lips. 

"Is this what you want, to be my little whore begging for me with her eyes?" he tutted as his lips pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck just below your ear, sucking a mark that would be visible to everyone causing a tiny little desperate moan to fall from your lips. 

"You like having eyes on you though don't you? In your short little skirt and a pathetic excuse for a shirt… you're just daring me to bend you over something." He mumbled against your ear as his hand was on your breast, thumb and forefinger toying with the hardened nipple through the material of your shirt and bra. 

"Baby, I don't know what you're talking abou-" You bat your lashes at your boyfriend, trying your best to act coyly at the situation, ignoring the feeling that his large hands on your chest was giving you. Trying to look away, the fear of being caught in a compromising position with George all too much to bear. 

“No talking back, brat.” His hand quickly moved, now on your jaw as he forced you to look at him before crashing his lips down on yours in a fevered kiss. Hs leg had slipped between yours, knee nudging your thighs apart before giving you something to grind down on. It was one of his favourite sights, watching you desperately rut against his thigh as you got yourself off for him. 

“George what if someone-” You moaned breathlessly as his hands guided the slow and teasing pace you were allowed to move your hips, It felt so good you were trying not to moan the whole shop down. 

“I already said no talking back.” He growled at you, feeling the cool sensation of his rings as his hand pressed against your throat, he wasn't choking you yet, only giving your windpipe a simple squeeze as a warning sign that he was on the edge of his tether. 

Fred had yelled his brother's name, as he reached the top step, searching for George around the top balcony floor. The action made your boyfriend look away frustrated as he bit the inside of his cheek. Grumbling a low, 'upstairs, now' before storming away from you, leaving you breathless. 

You did as he said, waiting for him excitedly for the first 15 minutes, after 40 minutes had ticked by you grew frustrated with him, after another 15 you were ready to start teasing him again, standing bent over the kitchen counter as you text him. 

<< Leaving me all desperate are you, Georgie? x

<< My fingers can't even do yours justice x

<< Bet that guy from earlier would have taken care of me x

>> Don't push your luck, kitten x

Your last text to him was enough to make him leave the stupid task that Fred had left him to do, practically storming up the stairs as he fumbled with his keys to unlock the front door. You hadn't even realised that George was behind you until your phone was snatched from your hands, his strong grip holding you firmly against the counter, his fingers lacing through your hair, taking a handful to grab at. 

"You are such a fucking Brat, I can't even do nice things for you without the attitude." You moaned as he gave a rough tug at your hair, his hips bucking into yours in an attempt to relive some of the tension in his own trousers but to no avail, he only grew harder at your babbling moans and begs for him. 

"You're begging now but you've been such a bad girl, I don't think I should really touch you at all, I may just have to use your mouth instead." You nodded, not even sure what you were agreeing too, too blinkered by wanting to have him please you that you'd do anything. He knew your limits, you knew your safe word so you knew you were safe.

He had tried to restrain himself but before you knew it you had been thrown over his shoulder, hand giving your ass a playful slap as he walked you towards the bedroom, the sound of your giggles a pure symphony to his ears as they rang about the flat. 

There was no dignity in the way he had thrown you on the bed, ripped open your shirt and hitched up your skirt over your hips. Not even caring to take off your underwear, only slipping it to the side to have his fingers buried deep inside you, at first he was slow and teasing as he stretched you out with his fingers alone hut as you began to clench around him, he picked up the pace, bringing you all the way to the very edge of your release before pulling his hand away, sucking your juices off his fingers with a chuckle. 

“You think you were clever did you? Bad girls don’t get to cum, not until I say so." He hummed, tapping at your clit with his wet fingers before he leans down so that his head is between your thighs, blowing cool air over your exposed heat, causing a shiver to run up your spine. 

"On your knees." His voice was thick, cut sharp and letting you know that he wasn't messing around, he waited for you to be on your knees in front of him, letting you deal with unbuckling his belt to pull him free. His hands were already holding back your hair, helping guide his length down your throat as soon as it was past your lips. The sound of you gagging as he hit the back of you made his cock twitch, a single tear running down your cheek as you hummed against him, a tear that he wiped away with his thumb, smiling down lovingly at you. 

"Just one tear for me, Princess? I want your makeup ruined, I know you do too." You nodded at his words, taking him further down your throat until the tears started to spill. You loved it, the way he would use your mouth, it wouldn't take him long till he took control of fucking your throat. His hand pulled your mouth from his cock, spitting in his hand to wrap around his length, mixing your saliva together before he was thrust back into your mouth, setting a relentless pace, hearing your gags as he hit the back of your throat. 

"Look at those pretty tears, baby… I'm in two minds to have you cum over and over for me just to keep those tears spilling." His thumb ran over your lip, pulling you up by your jaw so that he could kiss you, the kiss was soft, almost checking in to see you were okay and still with him. 

He had you lying on the bed as he rid himself of his clothes, first the tie, which was shoved into your mouth. This was a sight he would never get over, an innocent look plastered in your eyes as he lined himself up, sinking deep inside you quickly. You fit like a glove with him, stretching out perfectly to accommodate every single inch he had to give you and it felt magnificent. He was still but his thumb circled your clit in such a perfect way that he had you coming undone in minutes, that was number one.

Number two was given to you in slow purposeful thrusts as he moaned out for you, not caring who could hear his guttural grunts. All you could do was hum back as a response, wanting to moan for him and only him. The third time he had you releasing so quickly just from his rough pace, he'd pulled his tie from your mouth to kiss you, swallowing every single moan like his life was dependent on it. 

"Godric I love your tight cunt. I stretch you out so good, don't I princess? Show me, where you feel me, doll." The fourth had you shaking, he was fucking you so deeply, pulling out completely and sinking back in to the hilt. Your hand grabbed his shakily, pressing it hard against your abdomen, he could literally feel the tip of his cock hitting his hand and he chucked, hooking your legs over his shoulders. 

"That's pretty deep, baby, I bet I could fuck you deeper." His words and the feeling of his whole length fucking through you had you over the moon. You weren't sure if you were begging him for more or to stop, it was pain and pleasure mixed together like the perfect shot of ecstasy. The tears were falling down your cheeks like you'd been caught in the rain, but George thought you looked stunning. 

"Think you could handle another, brat? Let me lick your cunt nice and clean." Your body told you to stop but your mouth was begging for it, craving a new release by his skilled mouth. You didn't want to deprive yourself of his perfect tongue. Each lick and suck had you screaming for him, your sensitive and used cunt close to release again and this time it was heaven, your thighs quaking as it released over you. You were well and truly overstimulated. 

"Good Girl, such a good baby. I'm so proud of you for taking all five, doll." He praised, pressing kisses all over your makeup-ruined cheeks while his hands rubbed gently over your sides. He made sure to get you nice and cleaned up, changing you into his warmest hoodie and some pyjama bottoms, scraping your hair up into a bun and pulling on some fluffy socks. 

He changed into his own pyjama bottoms, staying shirtless before picking you up, your legs wrapped around his torso as he walked to the kitchen, laying you down on the sofa, leaving you to come down from from your state of bliss as he made light work of cooking your dinner. He truly was the perfect boyfriend. 

"Georgie?" you called out to him, seeing him turn around, immediately dropping what he was cutting up to tend to you. 

"Hi princess, welcome back… how're you feeling." He smiled, thumb running over your cheek as he cupped your jaw. 

"I love you, George, You're amazing." You hummed, pulling him in for a delicate kiss

"I love you more, baby girl… I wasn't too rough?" He asked, forehead pressed against yours, to which you shook your head tracing light circles on his chest. 

"Good girl, I hope you're hungry… I'm making your favourite." You smiled, letting him hoist you up, taking you over to sit on the counter as you watched him. 

You smiled dumbfounded by his sweetness, thinking to yourself, 'I'm gonna marry this man.' because George was everything, real true husband material. 

[ozarkthedog]

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭 || 𝐍𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐝!𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞

summary: Steve always loved tying you up when he had to work.

warnings: SMUT. dom!steve. heavy bondage; hogtied. degradation. dirty talk. rough oral sex. overstimulation. asphyxiation.

word count: 1,730

author’s note: based off the gif of Chris Evans telling Dodger to “Stop”, but then Nomad!Steve came to mind and the rest was history. 

📖 Master List

This work has Adult Content. If you click “Keep Reading” you have agreed that you are over the age of 18 and are willing to view such content.

The dark kitchen flooring is harsh under your naked chest as a puddle of drool forms below your face forcing you to keep your head elevated. The ropes were pulled tight this time around leaving no room for compromise.

You teethed around the small red ball gag, softly groaning from the ache and the pressure forming in your tendons. You’d need a long, soothing bath after Steve was done with his meeting.

Pins and needles prickled your feet as they reached towards the sky bound securely to the rope forcing your hands to your lower back. Any time you shifted your rope covered arms, your ankles would move with them, making it impossible to have any control.

Your shoulders were starting to groan under the tension. Maybe if you were able to turn to one side your feet would no longer tingle and the pain in your upper body would quell.

You could feel his eyes the moment you started wiggling more than usual.

He always loved tying you up when he had a meeting, he relishes knowing you’ll be there waiting for him. The obvious distraction of peering over his laptop to find you so helpless drove him mad. He couldn’t help but smirk when you’d huff at him through the gag and writhe for his pleasure.

You angled your feet as far to the side as you could without dislocating your shoulders but without good momentum you were going nowhere.

His boisterous laugh meant he was still paying attention to the conversation coming over the small speakers but you knew he’d be keeping a close eye.

Swinging your feet to one side you threw them to the opposite almost succeeding and rolling to your side but you fell back onto your belly with a soft grunt.

“One moment.” Steve said with a hint of annoyance.

He muted his mic and walked a few paces to your struggling form, still pathetically attempting to turn on your side.

His fingers dove between the band of the ball gag and your scalp keeping you stock still. He tipped your head up looking down at you through his lashes, “If you make any more noise, I won’t hesitate to get the wand and leave you strapped to it until dinner.”

You whimpered under his hard stare, eyes falling to the floor in humiliation.

“Understand?”

You slowly blinked in response, moaning around the gag causing more drool to slip out the corners of your lips.

“That’s my Good Girl.” Steve beamed, slipping his hold from the gag and turning you back onto your belly. Your ribs compressed against the flooring uncomfortably causing you to groan as he walked back to the table and unmuted his mic.

“Sorry about that. Now, where were we?”

His eyes flicked to you, wishing you’d make a noise just so he could watch you suffer a bit longer in the intricate bondage. The thought of standing over your body as you squirmed and cried out to him made his cock harden.

“Not a problem, Mr. Rogers.” A fellow colleague chimed before breaking off into hapless chatter.

The discussion passed by slowly. You stared at the base of the kitchen island and at the rug where you’d stand while doing dishes, barely listening to the conversation.

It was hard work keeping your head up for so long. The muscles in your neck screamed at you to let them rest. The tendons were burning and felt ready to snap at any moment. You tried to move again, wiggling your secured body as much as you could away from the growing puddle beneath your chin.

You struggled endlessly, trying to not hit the ground with your knees as you gained enough drive to fall onto your side with an ‘oopmh’. Your face pinched, a mix of fear and failure painting your features knowing everyone on the call heard you. 

If your jaw could tremble it would’ve once your eyes landed on Steve.

He hid the fiery blaze well when a co-worker asked if everything was ok. Steve flashed his million-dollar smile and smoothed a hand over his beard, “All good, Ma’am.”

As much as the pain receded in your arms and your feet no longer felt numb, the shame of disappointing Steve consumed you. You let your head fall to the side, resting while you could because once the chat was over you knew there would be hell to pay.

Not long after you shut your eyes you heard feet pounding closer to your frame shocking you from the light slumber.

Steve pulled you back onto your belly by your arms and loosened the knot at your knees before forcing a wand vibrator harshly between your thighs and nestling it against your folds flicking the power on to the highest setting.

Your body jolted sharply in the binds. You wriggled trying to lessen the intense vibrations as they pulsed through your core.

“You brought it on yourself, Doll.” He crooned, stepping on your arms with his wing tipped shoes forcing you to pause your movements, “If you want to make it up to me, you’ll stay still.”

He unlaced a cord of rope from your ankles and unstrapped the ball gag from your tired, over stretched lips. He gave you a moment to work your jaw around, easing the tension it held before looping a strand of rope around your neck and pulling taut.

Your head was now locked in an upright position by the rope around your ankles keeping you exactly how he wanted.   

“You fucked up big time… but I’ll just take it out on these pretty little holes.” You whimpered pitiably as his fingers dove between your lips causing you to sputter and cough. His free hand pulled out his girthy cock and tapped it over your tear-stained cheeks.

The powerful sensation between your legs was making you squeal and shimmy your body, unsure if you were trying to get away or move closer to the wicked piece of plastic.

“Look at you making such a mess.” He grinned wickedly as he lined up his cock to your swollen, spit soaked lips. “These are my fuck holes. Isn’t that right?”

You instinctively nod, cutting off your air with the rope as it pulled on your ankles. Your eyes bug fearfully as your breathing diminishes quickly. Steve loosens the tension with his fingers, sliding between the rope, “Gotta be careful, Sweetheart. I’m the only one who decides when you breathe and when you don’t.” He says with a sly grin.

Suddenly, his cock slides past your lips with a swift punch to your tonsils and it makes you heave.

“Shhh, you’ve taken my cock like this many times, don’t be so dramatic.”

His hips shove forward, grunting with every pass over your tongue as he slots his hands behind your head and literally skull fucks you. There was no time to breathe, his thrusts were so fast and steady you only got air when he allowed it.

Spit and precum fell from your lips, traveling down your neck and gracing your bosom as his balls slapped against your sticky chin. Steve looked like a lewdly pantied watercolor as you shed tears freely while he had his way with your mouth.

He pushed on your ankles, forcing the rope to tighten around the sensitive column of your neck, muffling, frantic moans vibrated his cock as you struggled in your binds like a wild bird caught in a net.

“I love it when you get desperate, makes my cock so fucking hard.” He growled, releasing his grip on your ankles and sliding free from your lips.

You suck in panicky breaths before his bulbous crown is kissing your lips once more. The rope eats into your skin with every needy thrust, pushing you closer to the edge as the vibrations from the wand make your core spasm.  

“Can’t believe you haven’t come yet. You must be learning, Doll.” He teased, leaning over your frame and grabbing the wand, “But right now, you’re gonna come.”

Spit landed on your plump cheeks, dripping down to your puckered hole, “Gonna have you screamin’ around my cock. Hell, maybe I’ll even make you pass out. I’ve always wanted to try that.”

There was no time to consider his threat as a digit swirled around your rim before pushing past the tight muscle. His cock rumbled from your hearty moans as he fingered your ass, double penetrating you brazenly.

Everything was too much and not enough. He brought you to the edge so quickly as he dragged his finger over your walls and invaded your taste buds with his musk.

“There’s nowhere to go, Sweetheart. I want you to come, so you’re gonna come.” He ordered before shoving his length into your throat and cutting off your air. Your body shook in the confines when he added a second finger, spreading you open obscenely.

The twisting in your belly goes taut and you scream your blissful release around his thickness. He slides from your lips finally allowing you to breathe as you suck in copious amounts of oxygen and try not to cough them away.

Steve shifts back onto his knees, sliding his fingers from your hole before wrapping them around his spit soaked length, curling with precision as the burning in your lungs tempers.

His face pinches with ecstasy as he jerks his cock over you, ragged grunts fill the room when he comes with a deep growl. Warmth hits your face in abundance; splatters of thick seed coat your skin, sticking to your brow and hairline. 

The spend slowly dries in a rich layer as you hear him shuffle and zip his pants. “Well, you’ve got about another hour and a half to go before dinner.” Steve mentioned in passing, as he glanced at his wrist watch.

Steve didn’t bother to wipe his seed from your face, pleased with how debauched you looked hogtied on the kitchen floor. His sticky spend sealing your eyes shut as you writhed under the forceful vibrations from the wand still strapped to your mound.

He fixed the ball gag back into your mouth, “tsks” at your annoyed whimpers when you pathetically fought him. By the time he opened his laptop and set to work again, you screamed out in euphoria as your second of many orgasms that afternoon consumed you.

[buckyownsmylife]

Electric Feel - Tom Hiddleston smut

The one where Tom moved in to help you, but you end up helping each other.

Warnings: porn with a very unecessary and minimal plot, smut, dom!female, sub!Tom, masturbation (m), oral sex (f), mistress kink, brief mention of a stalker, actress!reader

Word count: 2k<

A/N: This is so small compared to everything @just-the-hiddles​ deserves, but it’s her birthday and I just couldn’t let it go by without a token of my gratitude, love and admiration! Happy birthday, Liz! I hope you know how much I care about you! ALSO: unedited for the moment because I just started and finished this entire thing in the last six hours when I should be studying but oh well.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I didn’t remember stopping to think for a single second ever since I saw the news. My fingers acted on their own accord, hitting those numbers I had memorized so long ago, raising the phone to my ear as I waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” Hearing her voice didn’t calm me down like I expected it would. I realized then, I’d only feel tranquil once more when I could see her with my own eyes, touch her skin, feel her warmth.

“Darling? How are you?” I still asked, almost automatically, and if I had hoped she would at least be well enough to pretend to be okay, the sharp inhale that preceded her burst into tears shattered that illusion in a second. “I’m on my way.”

And that was how I ended up in her house in what felt like the blink of an eye. The trip there could have lasted days - all that mattered was that the second I had my arms wrapped around her, everything felt alright again.

“It’s okay,” I soothed her, but it was probably better directed at myself. “I’m here now.” It took at least a day before I was comfortable enough to ask her about it. “How did they find the guy?” When she latched onto a detailed explanation of the events from the last week, how she’d started receiving random death threats that suddenly weren’t so random anymore, I felt almost like I wasn’t even there, but floating over the living room, watching us talk from the outside looking in.

I held her close for a long time after that, unable to admit even to myself that not feeling her body against mine made me feel empty and weak. And so the feeling of protectiveness stirred awake inside of me - or maybe it had been there all along, I just failed to acknowledge it.

All I knew was that inserting myself into Y/N’s daily life was much easier than I ever expected it to be. And even if I told both her and myself that this was for her own safety, because she needed someone around until she felt comfortable by herself again, I knew it was more for my own benefit than anything else.

I just didn’t anticipate it would make my feelings that much harder to deal with. Did I know that I wanted her? Yes, maybe even ever since we’d met. And as our friendship progressed and we became closer, I saw that desire develop into something deeper, more solid. Still, I stupidly believed it was nothing more than a crush, and I’d be able to pretend it didn’t exist and get on with my life day after day like it wasn’t there.

Now that my days began and ended with her, I was highly aware of my mistake.

“Tommy,” she called out, making me lift my eyes from the tv and fall on her and the dog she currently tried to control. “I’m going to take her for a walk, okay?” I sat up automatically, ready to join her, when I felt a hand over my shoulder, gently pushing me back against the sofa.

“C’mon, finish the movie!” She admonished, a knowing grin on her face. “I think there’s a scene coming up with someone you particularly enjoy. I’m just going into the backyard, no need to worry.”

Even though I stayed seated where she’d left me, my eyes trailed over her figure as she disappeared inside the kitchen, until I heard the backdoor close. Despite knowing there was no possible immediate danger to her inside the boundaries of her own home, I couldn’t help but worry.

That was until a moan caught my attention, bringing it back to the tv once more. It sounded so familiar and so foreign at the same time, I was instantly intrigued, eyebrows furrowed as I struggled to identify the young woman that was being so brutally fucked by the main protagonist in a dark club.

My mouth hang open once the lighting changed and her face became recognizable, those same alluring features tempting me just as much as they tempted the character on the screen. So this was what she meant, I didn’t even know she was on this movie when I first picked it out. 

I could feel my member hardening inside my sweatpants as her beautiful, melodic voice kept tempting me, and I grit my teeth as I chanced a glance at the kitchen, wondering how long I had before she was back. Not enough, I knew that. Still, looking down at my crotch made me believe it was worth at least a try, because the alternative was her surely seeing just how affected her little scene had made me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The silence in the living room was my first indication that something was different, and as I stepped foot in the place where I’d left Tom not even five minutes ago, I realized my intuition was right - he’d abandoned the movie and left me alone in the main floor of the house.

Maybe he wanted to take a shower, or answer a call? I didn’t know, but I figured I should let him know I was back before he got worried, so I climbed up the stairs two at a time before stopping in front of the guest room he’d been staying in, suddenly frozen by what I heard.

“Y/N…” It was my name, breathed out in a whiney, raspy moan that left me no doubt over what was happening behind the door I now clutched so tightly. My mind drifted back to the movie we’d been watching, the scene I knew he’d see. Had I been the cause for his arousal?

My body acted of its own accord, the week of emotional tension before he arrived, replaced by the sexual energy that was always present whenever he was around finally getting the best of me. 

I opened the door. His hand was curled around a large member, the sight of which had me whimpering as I clenched my thighs together, alerting me of my entrance. His eyes, which were closed, immediately widened upon seeing me, and he tried to cover his erection with both hands, even if it was obviously not possible to do so. 

“Why are you shy?” I asked, head tilted as I analyzed the man before me, my mouth watering at the sight. I was desperate to give in to this desire, let go of the fears and anxieties that had been clawing at me ever since the first message arrived, and so I climbed on the bed like he was my prey, determined to make him crack and admit his own attraction to me.

“You called my name,” I noticed once I was on his lap, eyes taking inventory of every inch of pretty skin I couldn’t wait to bruise. “Don’t you want me?” At the sound of the insecurity in my voice, he jolted, eager to show that there wasn’t a reason for there to be any.

“Of course I do.” Smiling, I hummed appreciatively as I licked my lips, eyes darting down and seeing that he still hadn’t resumed his movements on his cock, even though it clearly needed some attention.

“Then why don’t you touch yourself while I suck little lovebites all over you huh?” Finally, I enveloped his pink lips with mine, eager to taste them, touch his tongue with mine. But I needed to see him cum way too badly, and I craved the control I knew I could exercise with him.

So I forced myself to pull away, laying kisses down his jaw until I reached his neck, starting to bite and suck there at the sound of his whines. Below us, I noticed he had started jerking off again, although hesitantly, and so I covered his hand with mine and forced him to get back to his previous pace.

“Show me how much you desired me,” I ordered, as he instantly fought back, “Kiss me again.” It was such a sweet request, and particularly in the breathless tone he tried to make petulant, it made me even more excited to play with the man I had wanted for so long. 

“But do you really deserve another kiss?” I taunted, pressing them on his chest, on his biceps, anywhere other than his lips. He was breathing through his mouth now, long deep sighs being interjected by his moans and whines, and it all went straight to my panties. 

“Yes,” he insisted, hand tightening around himself and a delicious blush spreading over his chest as I sat back on by heels to judge the hauntingly tempting image before me. He bit his lower lips in an effort to hold back his own sounds, but as I got rid of my clothes, his efforts proved fruitless, and a wanting cry escaped his throat as I forced him to quicken his movements once more.

“Oh, I see…” I wasn’t done teasing him, not by a long shot. “You’ve wanted me all along, haven’t you?” All he could do was nod, and I could see the underlying shyness in his reluctance to admit it. 

“Well, I’ve wanted you too, baby. And right now, I want to suck you off until my jaw is sore, how does that sound like?” Another moan was all I got as a response, making me smile wider than I’d ever done before.

“But I don’t think you’ve earned it yet. So for now, all I’ll let you do is keep touching yourself while you suck on my tits, how about that?” His eyelids were heavy when he looked at me, having to throw his head back to be able to meet my eyes.

“Fuck… It’s… perfect.” I cooed at how wrecked he looked like, even with how little I’d touched him, my navel brushing his member briefly as we adjusted ourselves so he could wrap his lips around my nipple.

“Oh…” I gasped in delight as tingles raised up my spine at the pleasant sensation, and between us, I could feel his movements growing more desperate as my moans replaced his in the otherwise silent bedroom.

When I felt him spill all over my stomach, I pulled him away from my chest by my grip on his locks, finally giving him what he wanted and capturing his lips with mine once more. “Hmm…” I moaned once we parted and I’d scooped some of his release to give it a taste. “So sweet.”

Tom was looking at me like I was some sort of extraterrestrial being, chest visibly heaving in his effort to keep breathing. “Can I taste you know?” He at last managed to ask, and I pretended to think, before gently nudging him out of the bed and onto the floor. 

“Yes,” I approved, wrapping his curls around my fingers again before bringing him down to the apex of my thighs, moaning as his tongue eagerly plunged inside of me, eager to get acquainted with the most intimate part of my body. “Who would have known you could be such a submissive little thing, huh?”

When he raised his head to answer, just the sight of my wetness dripping from the lower part of his face had my heart skipping a beat. “You should have known… A single word from you and I’d drop to my knees and worship you like you deserve… Mistress.”

[magicrowiswritingstuff]

"Rings" - Din Djarin x female!reader

(GIF by Me ... this was a hassle to create, I tell you guys)

Summary: You give something up that is very important to you to save Din's life.

Warning: injury/blood, a bit of violence, near-death experience, death of someone close to the reader (only mentioned)

Disclaimer: I normally try to give the reader as little backstory as possible but that wasn't an option here. So, please just roll with it.

Category: angst/fluff

Words: about 8.000

Note: Today’s my birthday (it’s already the 30th December where I live) so, have this piece of my writing as a sort of present from me to you! I must say I’m very proud to have finished this before the end of 2020. Letting you decide what I should write next and just reading your interest in my ideas definitely motivated me to write. So, thank you! <3 Note 2: I hope y’all enjoy it, I was a bit nervous because I rewrote a lot of it since it always felt like something wasn’t right or missing. The first draft was 4.000 words and I only wanted to check for any grammar mistakes and … well, you see what happened xD I also wish y’all a (early) happy New Year! I hope 2021 will be better for all of us.

_________________________________    

“Rings” – Din Djarin x fem!reader

You sat on the pilot seat of the Razor Crest, staring outside at the dark void of space speckled with star streaks. Mando was sleeping, the Child too, so you had some time for yourself that you didn't know how to spend efficiently. The autopilot was on and the ship wasn't in the need of any repairs, so you didn't even need to be awake right now but you didn't feel tired enough to fall asleep either. Absentmindedly you twisted one of your rings in your fingers to pass the time. It was a metallic-silver ring that looked like two intertwined ones, nothing engraved into it, no jewels on it, quite uneven. It was an unremarkable ring, a simple ring. Still, from all the rings on your fingers this one meant the most to you. This ring was your go to distraction when you were bored and your comforter.

 "What are you doing?" a modulated voice asked behind you. Flinching you dropped your hands in your lab and spun around in the chair to face the Mandalorian. You furrowed your brows at him to silently scold him. How was he able to move without making a single sound in that metal armor of his? After a while you shrugged your shoulders in answer. "Nothing, really." Turning back around you stared out of the window again with a sigh. "I'm just ... bored." A small smile found its way on your lips as you crossed your arms before your chest and leaned back in the chair, knowing fully well that Mando stood dumbfounded behind you because you were sitting in 'his' seat. Though as long as he wasn't saying anything there was no problem, right? You had to suppress the small snort that would have threatened to spill over your lips otherwise. "Is the Child still sleeping?" you asked instead after a while in which you hadn't heard the Mandalorian move at all. But for all you might know he could have already walked back down or he could stand right behind you. "Yes" he answered shortly, his voice still sounded like he stood in the doorway to the cockpit. So, he hadn't moved. "Good" you retorted before standing up, thinking you had tortured the silent Mandalorian enough, and sat down on one of the co-pilot seats. Mando stood still for a few moments longer before also sitting down in his seat. You two stayed silent after that and after a while you resumed back to twisting the ring between your fingers in boredom.

"Do you ever take those rings off?" His rough voice startled you once more. Perplexed you looked up to see him slightly turned towards you in his chair and just blinked at him a few times. Then you raised one eyebrow at him with a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Do you ever take that helmet off?" you shot back with a grin. You of course knew the answer and Mando knew that too so you didn't expect more than a short huff from him. He let out a snort and shook his head in what you guessed was amusement. Sometimes it was hard to read his body language but you were proud to say that you slowly got better at it. "What do they mean to you?" he tried again. "Awfully chatty today, aren't we?" you teased but you had to note that you were grateful for him seemingly opening up to you more. Mando shrugged in answer. You looked back down at your hands and the many rings adorning them as your smile fell. "Most of them mean nothing" you explained. "I just think they're pretty. I like shiny metal." You shot the man in shiny armor a side glance and a sly grin, trying to fall back into a more carefree attitude. If he understood your teasing he didn't react, though you could swear he had wide eyes underneath that helmet of his. But maybe you were just projecting. After a while he cleared his throat which made you giggle. He had understood it after all.

 "You said most of them, so which do have a meaning to you?" You grew quiet, staring back down at the ring you had twisted in between your fingers until now. The grin vanished from your features and only left a frown behind. Your throat closed up. You have never told anyone about this but some part of you wanted to share this with the Mandalorian you had grown closer to after all these months on the Razor Crest. "It's sentimental and stupid" you began and removed the ring from your finger. You held it over your face and turned it in the dim light. "My father made it." "Is he a blacksmith?" You felt your body stiffen up and slid the ring back on. "He was." The silence was awkward and filled with tension as your eyes hardened in an desperate attempt to hold back the tears. You wanted to tell him this but you refused to cry. You wouldn't cry in front of him. Everyone had lost somebody. "I'm sorry." You shook your head, quickly wiped the wetness round your eyes away so he wouldn't notice and leaned back into the chair, crossing your arms before your chest once more and closed your eyes. "Don't be." You heard the Mandalorian busy himself with switches and buttons after that. Opening one eye you saw him facing away from you, shoulders tense and squared. Another small, and this time more strained, grin formed on your lips. You forced to look more cheerful again. "And as you just saw, I do take them off, tin head." The Mandalorian huffed a short, modulated laugh as you closed your eyes again, twisting the ring, your comforter in between two fingers once more.

  _______________

  "Where is it!?" Your desperate cry echoed through the Razor Crest, alarming the Mandalorian who immediately jumped up from the pilot seat and climbed down the ladder. When he turned to face you, his heart beating painfully against his ribs, he saw you kneeling on the floor, your hair still wet from the shower you had just taken, damping the shirt around the area of your shoulders and neck. He paused, furrowing his brows in confusion. "What are you searching?" he asked perplexed, his heart slowing down again when he realized you or the kid weren't in any danger. "My ring!" you exclaimed panicked. "I took them off to shower and now I can't find the one I- the one my father made." The Mandalorian's gaze followed you as you scanned the floor, worrying that it might have rolled away. With all the boxes standing around it would be impossible to find it if it really had rolled into the clutter of materials. You huffed under your breath. Mando let his eyes trained on you before a delighted squeak caught his attention. Slowly he turned to face the kid who was sitting on his cot, admiring a shiny metal ring in his tiny hands with big, round eyes. You, however, continued to mutter under your breath, cursing yourself and swearing to never take it off again. Only when you heard Mando's chuckle did you pause and stood up to face him. You stared at him in confusion, your eyes wide. You had never heard such a soft sound leave his modulator before. He did laugh around you sometimes, that was nothing new, but it only ever was a short snort of a laugh or a dry one. Never such a soft, pure sound of delight. And then it had to be the moment your heart was racing and your hands were shaking in fear of having lost something forever. You furrowed your brows. "What's so funny?" you asked irritated. Thinking about how he would react if he couldn't find a piece of his armor, or his helmet even. You knew it was petty. After all you had only lost a ring and Mando's armor was part of his creed, deep-rooted within his beliefs. You couldn't help feeling slightly angry though.

 The Mandalorian didn't answer and instead tilted his head to his cot, your gaze following his movement. And when you laid eyes on the Child holding your ring, you had to control yourself to not slap your hand against your forehead hard. Instead, you buried your hot face in your hands and groaned. How wasn't this your first instinct? You straightened up and sat down in front of the kid "Kid, give me that please" you demanded nicely with your hand outstretched. The Child tilted his head and looked at you with his big, round eyes in curiosity. "Please" you pressed staring at the ring that hovered dangerously close to the kid's mouth. You could try to snatch it out if his grasp but you didn't want to risk him accentually swallowing it if he refused and defended his newly found treasure. Mando watched you in silence, arms crossed before his chest. He was almost about to speak up, he wanted to remind you that the kid wouldn't give it back so easily. He as well as you knew that because of the small ball from the switch in the cockpit the little one always stole. But before he could even open his mouth the kid let the ring fall into your palm, leaving the Mandalorian in a loss for words. The Child looked at you, his eyes saddened as if to apologize. You slipped the ring back on immediately, staring at your fingers that now all had their respected ring back. Then you squished the Child's cheeks in thanks and he squealed in joy. "I almost had a heart attack" you jokingly said and looked at the still silent Mandalorian as a breathy laugh left your lips. It was this moment did he realize what a strong bond you and the Child had built over those months you had now been on the Razor Crest. And it left him with a feeling he couldn't quite place in any category. Was it joy? Pride? Maybe both, maybe something else. He shook his head, directing his attention back at you as you straightened up with the kid in your arms, an exhausted smile on your lips. "Crisis overcome" you joked, the relief in your voice however was unmistakable.

  _______________

  After that little incident you never took that ring off again. All the other ones weren't that important, you didn't care if the Child grabbed one of them but the ring your father had made was of limits. But you knew that Mando was interested in it, about its story and the importance it had to you. He hadn't told you much about him so you hadn't told him much about you either when he had first approached you with the proposition to you give you a job on the Razor Crest. Back then you didn't really care who he was, you just needed some credits and the Child was cute so that was a plus. You were mostly a mechanic for the ship and the weapons at first but you soon fell for the little one’s charm and became somewhat of a caretaker for him as well. Mando had offered to raise your wage many times since you took on more than he had planned but you always had and always would refuse. You cared for the Child because you wanted to not because you were paid for it. And to be honest, the credits he did gave you for repairs on the ship and looking over the weapons every once in a while, you always ended up spending for the kid or for something that was needed on the ship anyways. So, it really wasn't that much of a job anymore to you and rather ... a strange companionship of sorts. And because of that you decided to offer a deal to the Mandalorian because you also grew more interested in your mysterious travel companion. After months on board, you wanted to finally get to know him more.

 "Since you seem so interested in my ring, I'm going to propose a deal" you proclaimed, straightening up in the co-pilot seat you had sat down earlier. The pilot seat turned to you so Mando could face you more comfortably, his helmet tilted in question. You grinned, proud to be able to at least distinguish the different head tilts he had. "I'm going to answer the questions you have if you tell me something about you in return" you continued after quickly shaking your head to sort your thoughts. You weren't obviously to the way the Mandalorian tensed in his seat, seemingly expecting to have to answer the questions that were burning on your tongue ever since you grew to like him more. So you shook your head at him as an answer to his silent question. "I'm not going to ask you something directly so you can choose what you want to reveal about yourself. I'm satisfied with anything." He nodded, agreeing to your proposition.

 You removed the ring from your finger and grabbed Mando's hand, he stiffened up again immediately. You let out a short chuckle. "Relax" you snorted and placed the ring in his palm. His head shot from his hand to your face in what you knew was shock and confusion. With a toothy grin you shrugged your shoulders. "I know you want to know more about it. You aren't that hard to read after a while" you explained with a grin. "And I know you won't eat it, unlike the Child." That made the Mandalorian laugh in agreement before looking back down at the sliver ring in his palm. The soft sound of his real laughter and not the stifled snorts he would normally only let out made you shiver for some reason. For a while he just stared at the ring in complete silence, obviously not knowing where to start. Then he cleared his throat and tilted his helmet only slightly upwards, almost unnoticeably but you caught it, knowing that he was now looking at you. "You said your father made it?" You nodded but knew he wanted to ask more, however, he seemed unsure of how far he could go so you decided to elaborate a bit more. "Yes, he did. He was mostly an armorer, though" you declared. "That ring was the first and only jewelry he ever crafted which is why it's so bumpy." You let out a short laugh and leaned back into the seat, staring out of the window and only glancing at the Mandalorian from the corner of your eye from time to time.

"He taught me a lot about different kind of weapons which is why I'm so good at repairing them, not so much with creating them from scratch like he was though." You crossed your arms before your chest and bit your lip, just letting yourself think for a moment and trying to hold back tears that threatened to spill again. "Back then I never thought all that knowledge would come in handy. I often complained because I wanted to go out and play with my friends and not look at melted metal all day" you resumed, trying to distract yourself with it. "I never thought I would need the things he taught me to save a Mandalorian's ass." That made Mando laugh once more but this time in protest. "If I recall correctly, I save you much more often" he pointed out. "You recall incorrectly" you teased but knowing the truth in his words. You would never admit it out loud, though, you liked to joke around with him too much.

 "Something else you want to know?" you asked, distracting him from your teasing since he had grown quiet after that. The Mandalorian nodded. "Yes. You don't have to answer if it's too personal or you don't want to but-" he started, seeming conflicted. "How did he die?" You gulped, not having expected that kind of direct question from him. Your gaze returned to the large window, staring at the sparkling void that was space again. "He was killed" you stated, your voice suddenly sounding rather strained. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to carry on. "He got caught in the crossfire of some stupid criminal organizations on my home planet." You saw Mando slowly nod from the corner of your eyes before he stretched out his hand to you for you to take your ring back. You straightened up again and turned to face him, reaching for it. "I'm sorry" the Mandalorian said in a soft, quiet tone. Even fainter than the chuckle you have heard from him before. You froze mid motion before shaking your head and swiftly grabbed the ring, sliding it back on your finger. "As I said once already, don't be. It's been forever ago." You suddenly felt a bang in your chest and a tightness in your heart. It still hurt. And before you could prevent it you let out one sharp sob, clutching the finger with your father's ring on it with your other hand and bend over. You missed him, even after all this time you still missed him more than anything. After that one sob only silent tears dropped down your face but you didn't hear the Mandalorian standing up. Only when you felt his hands on your shoulders did you realize that he was in front of you. Your head snapped up to stare at the black of his visor through your tears. The touch felt soothing and you realized that you craved more. You didn't feel like you were allowed to hug him tough, so you stayed put, lowered your head and tried to calm down under his gaze and touch. When the tears finally ran dry, you nodded to tell him that you were fine and he could sit down again but he didn't move. You glanced up, raising one eyebrow at him in question. He didn't say anything and just stared back from behind his visor. Then he moved his hands from your shoulders to your face, cupping your cheeks. You froze with wide eyes as he wiped away the last traces of your tears. For a few moments you just stared at him, mouth agape but before you could form any words -even though you had no idea what you wanted to say anyway- he moved away and let himself fall stiffly onto the pilot seat. You two just sat there, still facing each other but neither dared to speak up. You were shocked and flustered. And the Mandalorian probably felt the same way. Out of instinct you began to twist the ring in your fingers again. Your mind was blank. Did this really just happen or had you hallucinated all that? You shook your head and cleared your throat. "So, ehm ... what did you decide to share with me?" you asked, changing the topic and distracting yourself from your thoughts. "What secret do you want to expose?" The Mandalorian didn't move or react, probably thinking about what to say, what to reveal or still wondering about what he had done just now. After many moments in which your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear echoing in your ears he finally spoke up, saying one single word.

 "Din."

 Confused you furrowed your brows at him. "Din?" You tested the foreign word on your tongue, weighting it as if you could understand its meaning that way. But you couldn't recall ever hearing it before. You shook your head, signaling him that you didn't understand. "Din Djarin. It's my name." Your eyes widen in surprise, your mouth opened and closed without producing a sound. You didn't expect him to reveal that. "I thought you would tell me something like, I don't know, you secretly like to dance or something like that" you stammered, caught off guard. The Mandalorian laughed. Not a small, soft chuckle but a load, heartfelt laugh that made his shoulders shake as he leaned back into his seat. You joined in, his laughter was too contagious not to, you didn't hear it often enough to not enjoy it.

 "Din..." you tested the word, his name, again after the laughter had died down. A sly grin found its way on your lips, the tears from before already forgotten but the ghost if his touch still lingered. "I wasn't that far of with ‘tin‘ head then." This made the Mandalorian snort. After that the ship grew silent once more and the two of you were staring out the window. After a while you leaned forward to steal a glance at him. "Do you like to dance?" you asked curiously with one raised eyebrow, shattering the silence without a second thought. "Wouldn't you like to know" he teased back, his grin audible by the challenging tone of his voice.

  _______________

  You stood there, the Child tightly pressed against your chest in a protective manner, body frozen, your eyes wide in worry and disbelief. You couldn’t remember how you ended up there, everything had happened so fast. One minute you and Mando stood next to each other near the arena of the dirty rust planet you were on (you had just wanted to get some more food and supplies) and spoke to some guy that had approached you. His eyes had something in them that made your skin crawl and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in uneasiness but you couldn't even open your mouth to share your concerns. The next moment the guy had pressed a button on his wrist band and Mando fell down a hole, ending up inside the arena. You ran to look over the railing to see him standing in the mud in the middle of the stadium that was halfway full with hungry eyes of spectators. Even from the distance you could see the anger radiating from Din by the way his shoulders squared. With an equally as angry glare you turned to the guy. "What do you think you are doing?" you snarled, pressing the kid against you protectively with one hand and grabbing your blaster with your other one, aiming it at the guy's head. "Release him this instant!"

 "If you shoot me" the man growled, pressing another button. "Your friend will be eaten alive." You heard the screeching of a metal gate and when you turned to look at Din again you saw a huge beast had entered the arena. The thing was at least three times larger than a mudhorn and immediately aggressive towards the intruder, towards Din. The beast ran towards him, it didn't even bat an eye when the Mandalorian aimed his fire thrower at the beast’s face. It clawed at him, grabbed him and hurled him across the stadium. Din landed on his back many meters away. Slowly he rose again, probably groaning in pain but you were too far away to hear anything except for the beast’s roars. He was only barely able to dodge another attack of the monster. You turned back to face the guy, your blaster slowly lowered until it was aimed against the floor. "What do you want with him? With us?" you asked, placing your blaster back into its holster on your hip. You needed to figure something out, fast. Or Din would get seriously injured if he wasn't already. "Do you know what a spectacle this will be? Spectators will come weeks after his defeat, hoping to see something equally as thrilling!" You shuddered, wondering what kind of sick planet you once again ended up on. You couldn't believe the audacity that guy had. Trapping a Mandalorian? Did he know what the Mandalorian could do when Din would get his hands on him? You turned to look down at the stadium in concern once more, just able to witness the beast pinning Din down with one of its claws. Any sound he could have made, very cry for help that could have been directed to you was drowned out by the cheers of the audience. Any bleeding injury he might have had was covered by mud, he might have suffered a concussion too by the way the beast had slammed him against the ground but you couldn't do anything and only watch in horror. The Child in your arms grew restless, obviously worried about the Mandalorian, too. You instinctively began to rock him in your arms and shielded his eyes with your body. He shouldn't have to watch this.

 "What do you want?" you questioned, spinning back around. "There is nothing you can give me" the man stated with a disparaging look. "What do you want? I'll give you anything if you just release him!" you yelled, your eyes wide in worry. Your heart beat against your ribs so fast you feared it would spring free any moment. You had never sounded so desperate in your life before. You had never feared so much for Dins' life before. The ringmaster took his time, however, stroking his chin theatrically. Seconds seemed to last for hours as the cheers of the audience echoed in your ears, your eyes tearing up in frustration. "Please!" you pressed, desperately reaching one hand out to the man. His eyes landed on it. "How about those shiny rings on your hands? Shiny metal is rather rare here on this rusty planet" he proposed. You froze, staring down at your outstretched hand. He wanted ... all your rings? "Deal?" he asked just when another roar of the beast shook through your bones. "Deal!" you yelled immediately, anger heating up your eyes. The man nodded and pressed a few buttons. You turned and saw the beast suddenly slumped over, lying unmovingly in the mud. The audience grew silent. Din didn't move. You grabbed the railing, leaning over as your eyes darted over his unmoving for still underneath the beast claw, unable to focus as your heart hammered against your ribs. "Mando!" Your scream echoed through the arena, your blood ran cold. Oh Maker, what if you hesitated for too long? You opened your mouth to scream again when you saw movement. Din freed himself from under the monster’s claw with huge effort. You sighed, your body almost falling completely limp and only help upright by your grip on the railing. You only dared to breathe in when he stood on his legs again. "Time to pay up, girly" the guy demanded as two guards walked up to Din to probably bring him out of the arena. You slowly turned around and gritted your teeth. The sleezy man had stretched out a hand for you to put your rings in it. With your eyes hardening you began to remove the rings from your hands. You heart seemed to break when you slid the last ring from your finger and laid it in the guy's hand. But you didn't hesitate, even though you felt like you just lost a part of yourself. The man nodded satisfied and put them in his pocket.

 "(Y/N)?" You span around when you heard Din's faint voice behind you and immediately ran towards the Mandalorian. You held the wriggling Child against your chest with one hand and put your other one on Din's chest in a small attempt to steady him. "Are you alright?" you asked in a hushed tone, looking him up and down with in worry furrowed brows. You couldn't see any blood, just mud. But that didn't have to mean anything. His ribs could be broken for all you knew. Your eyes landed on his side where his clothes were ribbed. Din winced, answering your question that way. Without another second to waste you stepped to stand beside him and wrapped your free arm around his middle. He didn't even protest and just leaned against your side, as you led him away from the arena and back to the Razor Crest. "Let's get out of here. Fast."

 Back on the Razor Crest you put the Child in his orb, closing it so he wouldn't have to see his adoptive father in that state. When you turned you saw Din slumped against the wall of the ship, his chest heaving. "For the love of- Din, sit down!" you yelped, grabbed his shoulders and pressed him down against the wall so he could still lean against something. He winced again as you ran to get the med kit. You kneeled down in front of him and scanned his body for wounds but you still couldn't see anything with his mud-covered armor in the way. Your eyes focused on the whole in the clothes by his side. "I need to take your armor off" you announced, your voice wavering even with your efforts to suppress it. "Not the he-" Din began but you cut him off. "I know! Maker, I know. Save your energy, please!" You didn't mean to sound so harsh but you were unable to control your voice as you felt the panic rise in your chest. You began to try and take off his armor but your hands were shaking so much you could barely hold onto the pieces. "(Y/N)" Din mumbled and grabbed your hands. You head snapped upwards, you opened your mouth to ask him what he needed when he suddenly slumped forward. "Din?" you asked with wide eyes and shook his hand that was still loosely around your own. "Din!" He didn't react. Cursing and with tears already threatening to spill out your eyes you let go of his hands and instead sneaked two fingers underneath his helmet and to his neck, searching for his pulse. You sighed. It was still there, he was just unconscious. You swallowed the panic down, put your arms underneath his armpits and heaved him away from the wall so you could lay him down on the floor. Not the most comfortable place but the most practical. Then you quickly removed his armor. When he only wore his shirt, pants and helmet you had to force yourself to keep going as you saw the blood had already covered most of his side in a deep red. With no time to lose you opened the med kit, grabbed the scissors and cut open his blood-soaked shirt. Your breath got stuck in your throat when you saw the deep cut going down his side. You couldn't even curse, you just froze. The scissors fell down to the floor with a clutter. You could stitch up wounds and treat smaller injuries but you weren't medically trained for this. You weren't qualified... How were you supposed...?

 The squeak beside you made you jump. Your eyes darted around aimlessly until they finally locked into the Child who was standing next to you. "How did you-?" you were unable to complete the question as the kid walked towards Din. Your eyes widen in realization and you immediately held the Child in your hands to get him closer to Din's wound. He stretched out his tiny hands and closed his eyes in concentration. At first nothing happened, the silence in the Razor Crest was deafening. Then the wound on Din's side finally began to close up and your heart leaped into your throat. The kid whimpered before he went limp after the wound had closed up completely. "Good job, kid" you praised and pressed him against your chest, your voice strained but relieved. You didn't put him in the orb this time and instead in the hammock above Din's bunk. "Get some rest" you whispered and stroker over his head. He would be fine. You furrowed your brows in worry and glanced at Din. You weren't sure about him yet. You patted the little one’s head one more time and then kneeled back down next to the still unconscious Mandalorian. You took a deep breath and began to look for more injuries he might have. But luckily you didn't find any more open wounds, only bruises that would continue to hurt for a few days if not weeks even with the bacta you could put on them. And even though he wasn't in mortal danger anymore, you still had to force yourself to keep going, your hands were still shaking violently.

 After you had treated his bruises and had made sure none of his ribs were broken you somehow managed to get him into his cot where he could find some rest. With a heavy heart you had decided to retreat into the cockpit. You had set a curse and activated the autopilot after that. With a sigh you slumped into the pilot seat. There was nothing left for you to do and even though you felt the tiredness in every fiber of your body you couldn't find any rest. Your hands were still shaking from all the fear and adrenaline and your mind was racing in tight circles. You were still worried even though the kid had healed his otherwise fatal wound and you had done everything else you could have. Absentmindedly you reached for the ring, wanted to twist it in your fingers like so many years prior to get some sense of comfort only to grab nothing. You flinched and stared at your hands in shock. For the first time you really felt the absence of your rings against your skin. You gritted your teeth and tried to blink the tears away. The frustration and anger rose inside your chest as you grabbed your hair, tearing at the roots as sobs tore through your throat.

 You must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time you opened your eyes and moved in the pilot's seat pain shot through your back, making you wince. What even woke you up and why were you in the pilot seat? Confused you let out a groan and stretched your back. "Are you alright?" You spun around in shock. The moment your eyes fell onto him you remembered what had happened. "Din!" your voice was sharp but your face was painted with worry. "I should ask you that. Why are you even up here? You should be resting!" You stood up, looked him over and were about to place your hands on his chest when you froze. With your hands hovering over his chest, you stared up at him. The only armor he was wearing was his helmet still but he had put on another shirt. "I'm fine" he said but immediately let out a wince after that. You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right. Sit down" you commented and grabbed his arms to carefully direct him to the pilot seat. You let your hands on his arms as your eyes looked him up and down. "What is still hurting?" you asked and directed your gaze back to the visor. "It's fine" he repeated and let out a strained cough. You shot him a glare that made him clear his throat. "It's just the bruises." You bit your lip, holding your breath as you feared you would start crying again. You let go of him and wanted to sit down onto the co-pilot seat to take some deep breaths before heading down to get him some medications. But he caught your hand in his before you could, pulling you back to him. His visor lowered and he stared at your empty hands, not one single ring was adorning your fingers now. He knew what you had done to get him out of that arena and to say he felt guilty would be an understatement. "Thank you." You shook your head. "The kid healed you, I... I didn't do much" you explained, patting his gloved hand that was still around yours. "No" he shook his head. "Thank you." You stared at him in confusion before your eyes fell down to your hands. You furrowed your brows as you looked at your empty hands in sadness. "You gave them all up?" his voice was quiet, barely a whisper his modulator struggled to pick up. You nodded, eyes hardening. "Yeah? They were just stupid metal anyway, don't worry" you blocked with a shrug of your shoulders. You freed your hands from his. "I'm going to check on the kid and get you some painkillers. Don't move" you warned him with a small and what was supposed to be a playful smile but it turned out more like a strained grimace. Even with the false cheerful tone in your voice, you both knew that you had lied about the rings. The traces your tears had left behind were enough prove for that.

  _______________

  To say you didn't notice the absence of your rings, the absence of one in particular, would have been a lie. Even after weeks you still missed the metallic clank they would make whenever you touched something on the ship. You missed absentmindedly twisting the one ring between two fingers. You felt their absence more heavily than when they had been on your hands. You distracted yourself as far as that was possible. The first days you busied yourself with tending Din's bruises. You had already used all of the bacta on him but you had found some salve that should help against the swelling and pain. After maybe a week he was fit again so you had to find another distraction, which was the kid. And when the kid was asleep you busied yourself with repairs on the ship until you would pass out in your own bed. Din wasn't oblivious to your state and you knew that he felt guilty. After all you had traded them in for him. And even if you told him it was alright, you knew he didn't believe you. He would continue to feel responsible for it no matter what you told him which was stupid because his life meant more to you than some worldly possession. You still missed them but you would always act the same. So, you tried to not show him your gloomy state. But he noticed it anyway. He knew what that ring meant to you after all.

 You laid in your makeshift bed -too tired to busy yourself with any work today- while the kid played by your side with something he had found. You only paid attention halfheartedly, just enough to be able to react should he try to eat it. Din had gone out to the nearest town's market, asking you to stay on the ship with the Child. You didn't put up a fight, nodded and laid down immediately after he had left. The less you had to move the better. But Din had been out almost all day now, it was already getting darker and you began to worry. You wanted to grab your comlink you had placed next to you only to find nothing. Sitting up you scanned the floor, but the squeal of the Child attracted your attention. Slowly you turned to him and stared at the thing in his hands: your comlink. You smiled at him and stretched one hand out. "Can I have that back, please?" The Child stared up at you with his big, dark eyes, tilting his head in curiosity. "You can have it back after I called Din" you added. And if he understood you or not was open to debate but he let the comlink fall into your hand either way. "Thanks, buddy" you said and stroker over his head with a strained smile before booping his nose. He squealed in delight. Chuckling you placed him on your lap and let him play with the fingers of your free hand while activating your comlink with the other. "Mando, come in. Where are you?" you asked. No answer. You waited. You were about to repeat your question when the device sprang to life. "I'm on my way back" was all he said before the comlink in your hand fell silent again. Shrugging your shoulders, you gave it back to the kid, watching him play with it more closely than before.

 You were still sitting on your improvised bed, the Child had fallen asleep in your lap, when the ramp on the side of the ship opened up. Unmoving you watched as Din walked in, the ramp closing up behind him again. He didn’t address you but he seemed strangle energetic as he put the supplies he bought away. You raised one eyebrow at him in question but he didn't look your way. Only when he was finished did he walk up to you, coming to a halt a few inches before you. Tilting your head upwards you just watched him questioningly. "I have something for you" he said and by the sound of his voice you were pretty sure he was smiling. With a puzzled look you furrowed your brows. For you and not the Child? He nodded as if he had heard your silent question. Still confused you stood up, sitting the still sleeping kid down in Din's sleeping pot. "What is it?" you asked intrigued, unable to suppress the childlike wonder shining in your eyes. The Mandalorian didn't speak up and instead just opened up his hand. You froze. "What?" With wide eyes you stared at the small silver ring lying in his palm. A ring that looked like two intertwined ones. Your mouth fell open as your eyes shot up to meet his dark visor. "What is this? It's not the original one, it's far too shiny, unworn and too skillfully made but- what?" you rambled before your eyes fell back down. Hesitantly you reached out, grabbing it with two fingers and inspected it in the artificial light of the Razor Crest. The ring was fairly similar but... "It's ... heavy" you stated. Not necessarily 'heavy' just ... it weighted more than the metal rings you had worn before.

 "It's made out of beskar." Your mouth fell open once again as you stared into the black visor. "I let it be made out of a piece of my armor" he sounded strangely flustered, body stiff and unmoving. You were unable to say anything so you just smiled at him. It was small but grateful, the first real smile after you had traded them in. You realized that this was his way of thanking you for your sacrifice. You couldn't suppress the rolling of your eyes. Then your attention went back to the ring in your palm when you suddenly noticed something engraved into the inside of the ring. "What is that?" you asked him, tilting the ring so he could see it too. He chuckled slightly. "May I?" he asked as he reached for the ring. You nodded. He took the ring to read the words out loud to you. With a puzzled look you just stared at him. "It's a phrase in Mando'a" he added. For some reason you felt your face heat up. He let something engrave in it in his native tongue? "What does it mean?" "It translates to: 'I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.' It's supposed to be in remembrance..." he didn't finish but he didn't have to, you knew what he meant. You froze, blinking unmovingly up at the Mandalorian. He stretched out one hand, signaling you to put yours inside. When you did that, he pulled you a bit closer to him and placed the ring on the finger where you had always worn the one made by your father. You were stunned and opened your mouth to thank him but he spoke up first. "I know it won't replace the actual ring but I wanted to give you something because I ... I feel responsible." Your face fell as you drew your hand back. "Din!" you scolded him harshly, making the Mandalorian flinch. You would have laughed at that if you weren't so frustrated. "Stop that! It's okay, they were only metal. Even with the sentimental value it was still just an object." The Mandalorian shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head down as if he was embarrassed. With a heavy sigh you stepped closer to him and grabbed both his hands in between yours. "It hurts to have lost something my father had made" you continued, staring unblinkingly into the black of his visor. "But do you really think I would have let you die for it? You mean more to me than some stupid ring!" Without a second thought or any hesitation you wrapped your arms around Din and hugged him tightly. The armor was a bit uncomfortable but that didn't matter to you in that moment. Burying your face into the cold chest plate you furrowed your brows. "Sometimes you're such an idiot" you mumbled into his chest, tightening your clutch on him. The Mandalorian stood there like a rock, frozen in place and probably with wide eyes. Then, very slowly, he wrapped his arms around you too. And in that moment, everything felt worth it. Silent tears dropped down your cheeks. "I thought you would die, Din!" you pressed out between gritted teeth, burying your fingers into the fabric of his cape. "I thought I-" you couldn't continue as a lump formed in your throat.

Din hummed in an attempt to soothe your tears but it only made you sob more. Slowly he pulled you off of him. Your gaze fell to the floor, silent tears still dropping out of your eyes. When you felt his gloved hands cupping your cheeks you let him direct your gaze back onto him. He had bend down a bit, so your faces were almost level. "I don't know why I'm crying" you said helplessly, your eyes darting over his helmet, searching for an anchor. "It's okay, (Y/N)" he whispered. For a few seconds you just looked at each other in silence before he pressed his forehead against yours. The coldness of the beskar made you shiver as you stared at him wide eyed. "I'm fine." You couldn’t hold back the sobs as you cupped his helmet like he cupped your face. Pressing your forehead against his, you closed your eyes. And suddenly you realized that those tears were all the words you didn't say since that day at the arena. All those worries and fears you had felt in the moments you thought he could be dead already. All those pent-up emotions finally broke free. Only now did your brain realized that Din was alright. And when your tears eventually ran dry, did the fear clutching your heart for all those weeks vanish.

  _______________

  Later that night you sat in one of the co-pilot seats again, watching Din closely as he started the ship and left the planets orbit. Or at least you tried to because your eyes often fell back down to your hand, to the ring Din let be made for you. You two didn't talk much after your tears had finally dried out but you didn't have to. Everything that needed to be said had been with that little gesture of his. With a sigh you sank back further into the seat and took the ring of, twisting it in the light to look at the engraved words once more. A soft smile found its way on your lips. "Hey, Din" you spoke up after a long time of silence in the cockpit. The Mandalorian hummed, tilting his helmet in your direction. "I want you to know that you didn't have to do that for me" you said, staring into the darkness of his visor. "I don't blame you, I never have. I would have gotten over it eventually..." "I know" he answered, turning the seat so he could face you fully. "But I wanted to." He fell silent again but because he was still facing you, you suspected he wanted to say more. So, you waited. "Do you like it?" he finally continued after a long pause. "The ring, I mean." Your smile grew as you nodded. You straightened up and reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly. "I love it" you whispered, your eyes filled with honesty and gratitude. "Thank you."

[lununnunna]

i cant sleep without you || todoroki shouto x reader

have you ever grown so used to one’s presence that you find yourself unable to complete an otherwise simple task without them?

warnings: angst, death, not a happy ending, tiny breeding kink if you squint hard enough

shouto did his best to keep a regular schedule for you, as he didnt like to be away from you— because for starters, he didnt want you to be hurt and/or kidnapped by a villain looking to exploit the second highest-ranked hero, secondly, because he loved you, and lastly, because he hated missing out on time he could be spending with you.

thats why, on the few occasions he told you he’d be home late, he wound up finding you still waiting for him in the ungodly hours of the night.

“i couldnt sleep without you here,” you would confess, fingers fiddling as if you were shy, though your tired gaze told him you only wanted to sleep. and that was a sentiment he wholeheartedly agreed with.

he would let out a soft puff of air, a gentle smile on his lips as he welcomed you in his arms, nose buried in your neck as he carried you up the stairs despite his weariness from battle. after all, he would always have enough energy for you.

you never minded his dirtiness on nights like those. he never once heard you complain about how sweaty he must have smelled, or how he might soil the bedsheets. you would only cuddle into him, seemingly ignoring all else solely for the comfort of him, and in the morning hed find you humming to yourself as you drew him a bath, the first aid kit on the bathroom counter. a part of him felt as though he didnt deserve to be spoiled this way by you, but youd constantly remind him that he did. you would tell him he deserved the world, and everything you did was out of love— also, that tending to his wounds wasnt spoiling him, and your melodious laughter would spill into your explanation about how his wounds probably should have been cleaned right away.

it also didnt help that he couldnt bring himself to refuse your gentle touch, small, slender fingers tenderly washing away the sweat, dirt and blood built up on his skin and in his hair. by the time you were done, he was left smelling of sunlit strawberries— a scent that wasn’t his first choice, but was the “fee of your service.”

you would leave him to dry and dress himself, and when he left the bathroom, he would find the bedsheets missing. you had once again taken on a chore without prompting and without complaint. god, he never deserved you, did he?

there had also been nights when he’d be home late without your knowledge— and when he finally stepped through the front door, he found you in the dark, silent tears soaking your skin.

it didnt take much to spot his injuries, and realize the reason he had been late. “why didnt anybody call me?”

it felt like a stake in his heart, how quiet your voice was. how broken sounding. how much worry and fear and sorrow filled your wet gaze. he vowed to never let you feel that way again— but sometimes, he couldnt help it.

he couldnt help the night you ran to him, lying in agony on the street of the city. he couldnt move. he hated seeing you cry. he hated not being able to kiss away the tears on your cheeks, hated not being able to tell you he was okay, not being able to hold you tight as you screamed and begged for him not to close his eyes. he had always made sure to have energy for you— but his body betrayed him as his vision grew dark, his body feeling heavier with every passing second.

the last thing he heard, the last thing he felt, was your anguished cries and your tears on his cheeks.

“i cant sleep without you here,” you whispered to what you thought was his comatose state in the hospital, moonlight filtering through the window. his mind felt numb. his feelings were hazy. yet nothing could stop him from recognizing your voice; your touch. he managed to squeeze the hand that was grasping his so tightly, and by the time the nurse entered the room, he was conscious enough to fix you a weak smile.

you began to cry.

time was a fickle thing. the nights he spent with you felt too short, and the nights away from you felt too long.

he craved more time with you, more memories— and someday, more noise. he knew it was too early for kids, but he wanted them. he wanted several with you. and to add, he wanted the time to be home with them. you didnt like how hard he was pushing himself just to make more time, though.

and you didnt like when he got angry with you for expressing this.

god, how foolish he had been. he never meant to snap. he was tired and overworked; a fault that was entirely his own. the same fault you had been trying to point out to him.

regret had settled deep in the pit of his stomach the moment he saw your wide-eyed, tearful expression. you looked so small before him, and he moved to cup your cheek; to apologize for the harsh words that had left his mouth as a result of the stress and anger that momentarily blinded him.

but you flinched.

and never had he felt such a sick feeling in his gut, twisting and carving away at his insides. panic and anxiety flooded his senses, tides of rage and self-hatred washing over him. it made him tremble, watching, frozen in place as you took a step back. and then another. and then you turned away, gaze hardened as you disappeared up the stairs. he fell to his knees, stewing in his remorse.

you had given him the silent treatment for the rest of the evening. he didnt blame you. he had also been silent, not wanting to speak to you— he didnt trust himself, and more importantly, he felt as though scum like himself didnt deserve to in the first place. no good husband would ever speak to his wife that way, stressed or not.

“im going for groceries,” you muttered quietly, so quiet he barely caught it. he watched as you slipped your shoes on, every atom in his being screaming at him to hug you— to hold you tight and kiss you goodbye. he wanted to tell you to drive safe, to offer to come along, to tell you he loved you. anything but watch you leave without another word from either one of you.

and he so desperately wished he had gone with you.

that night, you were caught in a wreck. that night, you left him. that night.. he lost you. the love of his life. his everything.

he lost you.

and every day since then, he had been lying in your once-shared bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, recounting every moment of that day. he wallowed in the empty place beside him, tears soaking your pillow as he let out screams of agonized rage. he would get so angry that hed nearly burn away the bed— but the thought of losing your scent, still soaked into the sheets, would drag him back into his broken sorrow.

and there he would remain for the hours of the night, staring out the window as he waited for the sun to rise. his eyes felt heavy. he knew he was exhausted. and yet, he couldnt bring himself to sleep. he couldnt quiet his mind.

ironic, wasnt it? ironic that his wish for more time with you, was exactly what took you away from him. ironic, that every day since your death, he had been feeling everything that you must have felt when he came home late. 

except this time, you werent coming home.

and he cant sleep without you.

[today-only-happens-once]

missing from here, missing from me

Fic title: missing from here, missing from me

word count: 3347

summary: Alberto goes missing. Luca manages as best he can, which is not very well at all. Alberto/Luca, Luca and Giulia as close friends, and some dad!Massimo angst in the background. 

warnings: angst with a happy ending, crying, tension in friendships and family dynamics at times, missing person, mentions of/allusions to experimentation, reckless decision making. Please let me know if I missed anything. 

A/N: First time writing for Luca and it’s an absolute angst fest. Would love to know what you think! Played with structure and style here too, so I hope you enjoy it! <3

--

Luca knows before Giulia’s mother has hung up the phone that something is very wrong. Alberto is the first thought in his head, and it’s the one that does not let go.

He stands up so fast that he knocks back the chair he’d been sitting in as Giulia’s mother gasps. It clatters against the wooden floor and he should probably pick it up but his feet are rooted to the ground and his hands cannot let go of the edge of the table.  Giulia says something, but she sounds like she’s in a faraway tunnel. Her touch on his arm is the only thing that keeps Luca from bolting out the door.

Giulia’s mother says little. “How long ago?” she asks into the reciever, followed by a “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

Luca’s stomach has a lead weight as Giulia’s mother turns brown eyes onto her daughter, and then to Luca.

“It’s Alberto,” she confirms. “He’s missing.”

--

The train ride is long. The Italian countryside passes by in a rush of greens and blues and grays. Luca looks out the window and thinks that it would be more beautiful if he was on a Vespa, with Alberto’s chest vibrating beneath his arms as he shouts with eurphoria.

Missing.

Alberto has been missing for 13 hours and Luca feels like there’s a part of him that’s missing too.

--

His own mother and father, in their human forms, are there at the Marcovaldos’ place when Luca opens the door. Giulia runs straight into her father’s embrace, pressing her tear-stained face to his broad shoulders. His rumbling voice offers words of reassurance that Luca doesn’t hear.

Luca stands in the doorway and feels lost.

His mother takes a step towards him, says his name. Luca cannot bring himself to move.

“Where is Alberto?”

--

The police had already come, Giulia’s father explains as the adults drink coffee and Giulia drinks water and Luca tries not to throw up. What if he’s dead? Luca thinks and then immediately: Silenzio, Bruno.

There’s a crease between Signor Marcovaldo’s thick brows and a hunch to his shoulders. He is gripping his mug of coffee so tightly Luca wonders briefly it if might break apart in his hand.

“We’ll find him,” Luca’s father says. Luca opens his mouth to respond when he realizes that his father is looking at Signor Marcovaldo. That the words of reassurance were not meant for his son, but for the other father in the room.

Giulia’s dad sets his cup on the table in front of him and walks out of the room without responding. Luca sees the way he about to slam the door before he stops it, and closes it softly.

--

His parents offer to take him home. Luca uses as few words as possible to explain that he would rather stay here. In case there’s news. Luca expects a fight that is parents don’t give him.

His mother hugs him extra long before they leave. Luca returns it, if only because he knows it will help his mom feel better.

They promise to come back in the morning. Luca nods. He bites his tongue from asking them to stay, too. What if they disappear like Alberto?

--

Giulia is quiet that night. Luca sleeps out on the hideout and tries not to feel like the weight of Alberto’s absence will send him tumbling through the floor and crashing to the ground. Giulia leaves the window open and for that, Luca is grateful.

“Luca?”

“Hm?”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

“Do you think Alberto… ran away?”

“No.”

“I’m scared for him.”

Luca knows that he should offer some words of reassurance. That’s what friends do. But he cannot speak past the hardening lump in his throat and he stares at the lights above him that Alberto once insisted were anchovies and can feel his chest pulse with an ache he cannot name.

Alberto was always the one to quiet the fear inside of him. Silenzio, Bruno, Luca thinks fiercely, and swallows when he realizes that voice sounds an awful lot like Alberto.

--

Luca smooths his hand over the poster to adhere it to the wall. His hand does not linger no matter how much he wants it to. Neither does his gaze. If he does either for too long, he will begin to cry.

“C’mon,” Luca tells Giulia when he can feel her worried stare boring into the side of his face. “We have more posters to hang up.”

“Hey,” she says, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He shrugs out from under her grip. “I’m fine.”

He knows that he is a terrible liar. He knows that Giulia can read him better than anyone. He waits for Giulia to call him out on it, unsure of what he will say in response.

She says nothing. She can, after all, read him better than anyone. So she hands him the next poster, and they get back to work.  

--

I’m gonna fix this. That was his promise to Alberto a year ago. He wants that to be his promise now. He wants to say it—wants to scream it—wants it to be true.

Luca doesn’t know if he can. He thinks of the clock at the bottom of the ocean and wonders if it is still counting the seconds. Luca is.

He makes it to noon before he cries.

--

Signor Marcovaldo starts to make Trenette al Pesto and stops halfway through. Luca watches from the dining room table as his parents and Giulia’s mother have a hushed conversation in the next room over. Signor Marcovaldo’s hand wavers as he reaches for the garlic cloves, then drops to his side.

“Perhaps we should… order something instead,” he says.

“Papa—”

He leaves. Giulia sighs. When she starts chopping the garlic, Luca busies himself by draining the pasta. He pretends he doesn’t see Giulia wipe her eyes on the sleeve of her striped shirt, and he decides to return her watery smile.

--

“Maybe he ran away,” the police say the next day. Early afternoon sun filters through the open windows, the salty ocean air tickling Luca’s nose.

“He didn’t,” Luca interrupts. He has spent most of his life not knowing things, but he knows this. Alberto didn’t run away.

“Sweetheart,” his mom begins, and Luca’s stomach rolls. He steps back when she reaches for him.

“He didn’t.”

“I know he’s your friend, kid,” one of the officers tells him, “but we found plans and maps at that island you said he used to spend his free time at.”

“That’s different,” Luca says, his throat tightening. “That was before. He wouldn’t run away! The life he has here is important to him. I know it.”

“Luca—”

“No! I know Alberto! He didn’t just run away.” Luca can feel his heartbeat pounding in against his ribs, like it wants to break free of his confines of his chest. As desperate to reach Alberto as the rest of him is. Luca’s eyes flit over the room to settle squarely on Signor Marcovaldo, who stands in the corner and stares at the floor.

“He wouldn’t abandon the people he loves,” Luca insists.

Signor Marcovaldo’s gaze rises and steadfastly meet’s Luca’s own. “And we won’t abandon him.”

--

“You’re going to collapse if you keep going like this,” Giulia tells him quietly the afternoon of the following day, in the middle of the town square. Luca can feel the rain against his scales and dripping off his fins.

“I’m fine.”

“Luca, you’re not yourself—”

“What do you want from me, Guilia?” Luca snaps. “I’m trying to find Alberto, and I don’t know where to look, and I don’t know who took him or why and I can’t sleep at night because I don’t know that he’s safe and I never got to tell him—”

Luca’s voice fails him when Guilia grabs him and pulls him into a hug. She doesn’t let go for a long time. And when she feels Luca’s shoulders jerk with an aborted sob, she just squeezes tighter.

--

Luca sleeps for a few hours the third night. He wakes up when the door opens and Signor Marcovaldo’s broad frame is silhouetted against the light form inside the house. He is wearing his hat and has a lamp in his hand. Luca slides down the ladder and calls out to him.

“Luca. You should be asleep.”

“Are you going to look for Alberto?”

There’s a beat, and Luca wonders if he’s going to lie to him. “Yes.”

“I want to come with you.”

“It is late—”

“Please, Signor.”

Luca looks up at him. He can sense, more than see, the way Signor Marcovaldo looks at him. Close and studying, as if trying to parcel something out. Whatever it is, he seems to find it, as he looks in the direction of the town, and then back.

“Alberto cares very much for you, Luca.”

Luca’s heart stutters a little. His lungs squeeze. “And I for him, sir.”

A heavy hand lands in his hair and ruffles it. “I know. Come. Walk with me.”

--

Luca had learned much in his year at school. He learned about stars, and spelling, and addition.

He did not learn how to deal with this.

He did not learn how to count the hours when the days bleed into sleepless nights and time itself starts to lose meaning. He did not learn how to stop counting the minutes, as if counting to sixty a million times will stave off the way his vision blurs on the edges if he stands in one place for too long.

Luca throws a tarp over the rusting Vespa and wishes that the hole in his heart could be covered as easily.

--

When Luca becomes too exhausted, he sleeps. When he sleeps, he dreams of Alberto.

The dreams are a patchwork quilt in memories. Alberto’s sun-warmed shoulder brushing against Luca’s, the teasing quirk of his eyebrow, the stretch of his spine when he planned to put himself firmly in the way of danger. Then the echo of take me, gravity as he disappears down the edge of a cliff to dive into the water below.

Luca follows, every time.

Alberto disappears.

Every.

Time.

--

Luca stares at the anchovies (stars, he knows, hot balls of gas lightyears away from here but Alberto is not here and Luca wants to hold on to the parts of Alberto that he can with both hands) when he hears the phone ring.

Signor Marcovaldo picks up on the first ring. Luca realizes he must have been waiting. He wonders how many nights he spent at the kitchen table, also unable to sleep. Luca glances at the still-open window to Giulia’s room, sees her light immediately click on, and wonders if maybe nobody in this house has slept since Alberto went missing.

Luca sits up when he hears Signor Marcovaldo knock on her door.

--

They have a lead. Signor Marcovaldo sits on the edge of Giulia’s bed. Looks at Luca through the window. Found some fabric that matched his shirt a few miles north.

Luca slides down the ladder to the ground so fast he feels his palms rubbed raw from the rope burn.

Luca tears the tarp off the Vespa and kicks it into gear. He hears his name being called from the house, the thundering of footsteps down the stairs after him.

“Wait!” Signor Marcovaldo calls to him, but all Luca has done for the past week is wait.

He feels a sudden weight on the back of the Vespa and sees Giulia yanking on a helmet.

“Go!” she shouts in his ear.

He turns the Vespa north and goes as fast as he can.

--

Luca races the moon. Portorosso gives way to a tree line, thick with the scent of dew and dirt. He thinks he can feel Giulia’s hands shaking around him, but he does not know if that is the thrum of the Vespa beneath them or if her anxiety is an echo of his own.

All he knows is that Alberto is north. So that’s where Luca wants to be.

--

“STOP!”

Luca sees it at the same time Giulia does and brings the Vespa to a lurching halt against the dirt trail they had been following. Giulia tightens her grip on Luca to keep them both from careening off the vehicle.

Luca blinks at the figure in the road, clearing the spray of dust from his eyes.

The moonlight filters weakly through the leaves of the canopy above them. Luca can barely see, but the headlight from the Vespa offers enough of a glow to make out the form that stands on the path. Just far enough away from the light to be a shadow in the darkness.

Luca tentatively climbs off the Vespa and takes a step forward. It has been over a year, but Luca has seen that same silhouette in his dreams every day for a week.

“Alberto?”

The answering voice is raspy and hoarse, but its familiarity thunders in Luca’s head. “L…Luca?”

And then Alberto collapses.

--

Luca does not reach him before he hits the ground but it’s a close thing. “Alberto!”

The bottom of Alberto’s tank top is torn, he cheeks gaunt. Parts of him are blue scales. The base of his skull has purple fins that fade up into his soft tower of curly hair. Almost like he had gone for a swim, and not fully dried off.

“He’s bleeding. And I think he has a fever,” Giulia says quietly, and only now does Luca realize that she is kneeling on the other side of him. Luca hears her voice as if he’s underwater. There’s something off about it, he knows, but he cannot place it.

“C’mon, Luca. We have to get him home.”

--

The trip home is quiet. They sandwich Alberto between them and Luca drives even faster on the way back.

Alberto’s weight and heat against him is a reminder of his presence—heavy and warm and here—but it’s not as comforting as Luca had thought it would be. He’s hurt. He’s sick.

I’m gonna fix this, Luca thinks, and guns it even faster as Portorosso comes into view again.

--

Luca does not know what he expects when he pulls up to the Marcovaldo’s home. He had not thought about it. Giulia is pulled aside by her mother, hushed and harsh words shading the concern from which they originate.

Signor Marcovaldo says nothing. He pulls Alberto up in his arm and disappears into the house. The churning in Luca’s gut spikes the moment Alberto disappears from his view, so Luca follows.

Giulia’s father takes Alberto back to his room, ducking into the small doorway. Luca lingers at the threshold and watches.

“Never do that again,” Signor Marcovaldo says as he lays Alberto down in his bed. It’s not until he turns to look at Luca in the doorway that Luca realizes he was speaking to him, not Alberto.

It is not a promise Luca can make. Not when he can see the rise and fall of Alberto’s chest for his own eyes.

“I had to, sir.” Luca takes a step into the room. “Is… Alberto going to be okay?”

Signor Marcovaldo turns to him, then sighs. He wordlessly places his hand on top of Luca’s head as he passes by.

“I need to make some phone calls,” he says in lieu of an answer. “Watch him for me, Luca.”

--

In the hours that follow, Luca does not leave the room.

Giulia’s mother comes in and lectures him about running off. Giulia tries to come to his defense—“we found Alberto, Mamma! Can’t you just leave him alone?”—but Luca shakes his head and apologizes, even though he is not sorry.

Signor Marcovaldo has a doctor attend to Alberto. Infected, the doctor says. But treatable. I believe he will make a full recovery.

Luca pretends he does not hear the relieved tremble to Signor Marcovaldo’s breath in response.

--

Luca is alone with Alberto and the sun is just barely peeking over the ocean’s horizon line when Alberto wakes up.

Alberto’s hand twitches in Luca’s. His green eyes crack open, and Luca leaps to his feet.

“Luca?” His name falling from Alberto’s mouth—dry and raspy as it sounds in this moment—is nearly enough to make Luca’s knees give out from under him.

“Sì, sì, sì.” Luca fumbles for the glass of water and straw on the table beside the bed. “Here.”

Alberto does not look away from Luca’s face as he drinks the water. Luca knows this because he, also, cannot bring himself to look away. As Luca pulls the cup away and turns to call for Signor Marcovaldo, Alberto’s grip on his hand tightens.

“Wait,” Alberto says.

In this moment, Luca does not believe himself capable of denying Alberto much of anything. So he stops, and turns back.

“You’re really here?”

Alberto has never sounded so small. When he touches Luca’s cheek, Luca goes very still.

“Sì,” Luca whispers.  

He watches as Alberto’s green eyes flood with tears, and then hears the creak of the floorboards behind him. When Luca glances over his shoulder, he sees Giulia’s father in the doorway.

“Alberto,” Signor Marcovaldo says, and Alberto breaks.

--

Luca has to leave the room when the police come to get Alberto’s statement, but he hears whispers of it amongst the adults late at night when he is supposed to be asleep.

Word of sea monsters is spreading, Giulia’s mother says. You said Alberto said they were talking of research? I do wonder if it may have been more about experimentation—

Signor Marcovaldo’s rumble interrupts her. He escaped, Giana, and they raided the warehouse. They are not a threat any longer. That, and Alberto’s forgiveness, is all I care about.

Massimo, it’s not your fault—

It is, came the firm disagreement. Dio mi perdoni, but it is.

--

Two days later, Alberto sits in the hideout beside Luca and watches the sunlight filter through the leaves above them.

The quiet between them is filled with the sounds of Portorosso around them: children playing soccer in the town square, fishermen calling to one another on passing boats, seagulls squaking as they pass by overhead. Giulia was working on selling what remained of the family’s stock of fish, so her idle chatter is nowhere to be heard. Luca closes his eyes and listens mostly to Alberto drumming his fingers against his own stomach.

Alberto had been quiet in the days since waking up. Luca didn’t press him on it. The sound of the breath passing through his lungs and his footsteps when he walked was enough for Luca.

“Hey,” Alberto says suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“I never thanked you for coming to find me. That night, in the woods?”

Luca frowns and looks over at him. Alberto is still staring at the sky. “You don’t have to thank me. Of course I’d come for you.”

“Yeah, I just…” Alberto trails off, then sits up suddenly. Startled, Luca sits up too. Alberto turns to look at him, his green eyes intense. “I… I feel like I knew that. When I was… there. I can’t explain why, I just… I just knew.” He grabs Luca’s face in both of his hands.

Luca swears his heartbeat stops all together, then starts thundering in his chest. “Alberto—"

“I…” Alberto swallows. His eyes search Luca’s face like he might vanish if he so much as blinks. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again. I fought my way out for you, but even then, I… I wasn’t… I couldn’t be sure, but I kept thinking—”

“Silenzio, Bruno?” Luca supplies, and turns to kiss Alberto’s palm against his face.

Alberto’s answering laugh is watery and thin as he presses his forehead against Luca’s. It is the most beautiful thing Luca has ever heard in his life.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  6.4

"What did you mean when you said they didn't escape?"  You had noticed Xiao's eyes never left the bird when he spoke to you, and finally realized the stupid piece of scrap metal was more than a knocking device.  When it had hopped to the other end of the hall you decided to take a shot and ask Xiao again.

"I meant exactly what I said," his eyes finally met yours.

"W-What? But--"  Movement near his legs attracted your attention and you saw that he was drawing letters on the tile's surface with the pad of his finger.  You watched him intently.

"All is not as it seems."

"Hm?"  Your brain hurt just trying to decipher it's meaning.  He gave you a final warning look before facing straight ahead again.

"Food."  A Fatui agent slid your tray beneath the door.  He glanced at the yaksha, but walked away without saying anything else.

You dragged the tray over so that it sat in front of the two of you.  "Would you like to eat something?"

"You know I can't stomach human food."  He pushed the tray over to you.  It was then that he noticed just how hollow your cheeks were, and the way your collarbones stuck out from your chest.  "Eat."

"I'll pass."  You watched his eyes narrow at you.

"Eat."  This time he shifted so he was facing you head-on.  "There's no point in starving yourself here."

"They can't achieve their agenda if I'm dead."

"They already have your blood samples.  They won't care if you die as long as they have me. So eat."

"But you could just break out of here if I die!"  You had only meant the words as a half-joke, but your vision was obscured by tears.  "I-if I die on my own accord, you won't have to worry about hurting me.  That's why you haven't done it, right?  That's why you haven't broken the seal, because you don't want another person's blood on your hands?"

Xiao observed you carefully before releasing a sigh.  His eyes cast downward and landed on his gloves, overturning his hands as he envisioned them coated in the blood of his comrades and enemies alike.  "Do you truly no longer care for your own life?"

"I'd rather die at my own hands than let them kill me."

"What about returning to Qingce Village?  Or seeing the Lantern Rite?"  He raised his gaze to you again.  "You were looking forward to that as far as I remember."

"It's like Childe said," you mumbled.  "There's no future even if we both escape."

"Childe?" His eyes narrowed and his voice was tinged with anger.  "Don't believe the things he's told you.  He's--"

"Why? He's right about this," you choked out.  "Even if we get out, they'll always chase after us...we can't hide forever, and..."  I'll always be chasing after the love of an adeptus.  

"There's no need to fear such things." Xiao eyed you carefully before scooting closer to you so that your knees were touching his.  He gingerly placed a hand at the nape of your neck and pulled you close.  His thumb gently rubbed against your skin.

"Heh," a small chuckle left your lips and caught the adeptus off guard.  

"What?"

"It's just...You did this before."  A warm smile crossed your lips, and Xiao frowned slightly at the myriad expressions you kept making.  He couldn't keep up with your feelings; you switched between them so fast.

You're still this strange after all this torment?  He was about to make the comment when you grabbed the hand that sat atop your neck and brought it forward.  Your gaze dropped as you enveloped his hand with the two of yours, stroking the plate that encased the top of his glove.  

Sooner or later, I'm going to die and it'll probably be in this cursed cell.  But...I can't say I'm ungrateful for the moments I've known Xiao or for his rescuing of me when I was a child.  It's a privilege to know him...but he will forget about me sooner or later, just as Childe said.  But even still, I can't help but...

Your touch was so...gentle.  Soft, even.  Xiao short-circuited and froze as he contemplated the gesture. What was its meaning? No one had ever done this with him before.  It was weird.  Too weird.  "Your body requires nutrition to function.  So eat it."  Xiao abruptly pulled his hand out of your grasp and handed you the tray of food.

When all you did was stare at the tray with a conflicted expression, the yaksha sighed in annoyance and grabbed the spoon.  He scooped up some of the rice and held it out to you.  Your blushing reaction wasn't what he expected.  "T-this is too embarrassing!"  You covered your face with your hands and shook your head.

"If you won't eat, I'll force you to."

"EH?!"  You peeked out from behind your fingers and saw that he was completely serious on doing what he said.  "F-fine."  You took the spoon from his hand and hesitantly brought it to your mouth, mindful that he was intent on watching you until you finished the plate.

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

"Xiao!" You sprung up into a sitting position and gasped for a breath of air.  

"It's been some time since I've seen you awaken from a nightmare."  Xiao scooted a little closer to you and noticed there were tears brimming your eyes.

"I thought I--"  Your cheeks suddenly dampened from the onslaught of tears.  Your throat clenched up as you recalled the horrific dream.

"You're alive and here."

"No," you shook your head.  "I-I thought..."  Your exhausted body gently slid back onto the floor as your eyes fought hard to remain open.  "I thought you..."

I thought I lost you, your tired inner voice reached his ears.  Xiao watched you slide your hand toward him as you fell back asleep, almost as if keeping it near him somehow gave you comfort.  Your eyelids finally closed, and he continued to stare at your outstretched bony hand that rested atop the tile floor.  He's here, thank the archons he's right here, your unconscious thoughts continued to flow into him.  ...right...here...

Xiao wasn't sure how much time passed as he continued to watch you sleep.  His eyes always returned to your hand, following its outlines and grooves, from the tips of your fingers to your wrist.  She's been holding back on praying to me this entire week, yet she holds fear of losing a yaksha?  Xiao furrowed his brows as he contemplated your thoughts.  Why is a human so worried about my wellbeing?  Her and Aether both. He shook his head in an effort to rid his mind of what was probably some sort of human compassion for you.  Humans are difficult to comprehend, he dismissed.

Your eyes opened slightly to look at him, and he noticed.  You weren't awake, but your eyes glowed nevertheless as his inner turmoil somehow found its way into the depths of your mind. 'Perhaps you face and accept what is in your heart...and you will understand the meaning of my words.' Zhongli's advice was brought to the forefront of Xiao's mind as he watched your eyelids close again.

I hate this, the yaksha grumbled to himself.  A small sigh left his lips, and his gaze fell to your outstretched hand once more.  He had a feeling that this past week would have a lasting effect on you, and you probably wouldn't be the same person after the two of you escape this hell.  Something inside you was slowly breaking; he felt the despair and desperation in your daily prayers to him.  It reminded him of himself so many centuries ago.

'You best be sure to share them before they fall on the ears of an early grave.'  The yaksha rolled his eyes as he remembered another one of Zhongli's lines.  But...he's not wrong.  His agreement with the archon's words was already a big enough struggle; he couldn't imagine actually acknowledging and accepting his own feelings.  He continued to watch you, his expression hardening as he fell deeper into his thoughts.  Human minds are fragile.  She could break and come out stronger; she could break and become like me, or...she'll shatter completely.  My feelings may not reach her if the latter happens.

After thinking this and continuing the internal struggle for a bit longer, he finally placed his hand beside yours, fingertips barely touching fingertips.

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

Xiao glared at the handcuffs that restrained him when he caught sight of the exact same seal that prevented him from breaking out of his cell.  The harbingers must've done a lot of research in order to obtain him.  He was forced to walk behind you after being blindfolded.

Unlike him, you were allowed to see where you were walking.  Apparently Dottore had thought of you more as a pest than a serious threat.  Not that you were offended, though; you were a pest without a vision.  Fighting was useless, and your only chance of escape was crushed in the damned Tsaritsa's hands.  Now that Xiao was here, it was your priority to get him to escape while he could.

'Out there, you will not survive.' Childe's words ringed in your ears much like a mosquito.

Speaking of which, here was the man himself, in the middle of Dottore's arena and accompanied by another harbinger you had seen in the Tsaritsa's throne room several days ago.  He was much shorter than Childe, more around your and Xiao's height.  He wore a strange outfit too, with the likes of an umbrella for a hat and shorts of all things in a literal winter wonderland.  You had the guts to stifle a laugh, and he glared harshly at you.

"You're walking just fine after being injected so much," Dottore held a strange grin and nodded to himself.  "Just as the Tsaritsa thought; healing abilities would be drastically increased along with the lifespan of the human in question.  Interesting.  Now then!"  He clapped his hands and signaled for the guards to halt your and Xiao's movements.  They finally removed the cloth from around his eyes.

"This here is the sixth harbinger, Scaramouche," greeted Childe.  Even he seemed to find amusement in his co-worker's height, a rare glint of joy in his eyes that quickly darkened when Scaramouche caught onto the glee in his voice.

"He will be in charge of testing your fighting capabilities," Dottore answered your confused expression with a thin smile.

"Fighting capabilities?"  The guard unclasped the cuffs around your wrists.  "I don't--"

"Another lie!" Dottore rolled his eyes and scoffed.  "Childe reported you fight much like this yaksha, correct?"  The harbinger nodded in confirmation.  "Now I sincerely doubt an amateur such as yourself would be able to wield a lance so proficiently when all you were learning to wield was a sword."  He nodded to Scaramouche.

"I'll break her in," he spoke almost to himself, and tossed you a metal staff that hung from a rack of weapons to the left of the arena.

The guards escorted Xiao to the right of the room, and Childe joined him.  He leaned down slightly and placed a firm grip on the yaksha's shoulder.  "My orders are to kill you if you try anything."

I sincerely doubt you could, Xiao thought to himself as he watched you catch the staff.  Your worried inward voice reached his ears, and he met your gaze without nodding.  This is...wrong, he watched Scaramouche assume a fighting stance.

"Fight me," the harbinger ordered.

Xiao?  Your eyes met the yaksha's, and much to your dismay, his expression was unreadable.  You didn't want to fight anyone if it were for the sake of this sickening research.  Your stare fell to the metal in your hands as you absently stroked it.

"Are you deaf, or just stupid?" The harbinger spat out.  "Follow my orders."

You dared to look up at the harbinger and in an act of defiance, struck one end of the metal polearm onto the tile floor.  The ringing accentuated your now-glowing eyes.  "No."

"'No?'"  A light scoff escaped his curled lips.  

Childe's grip on Xiao's shoulder tightened immensely.  "She's made quite the mistake this time," he whistled.  Even the guards tightened their hold on the yaksha in preparation for what's to come.

"No," you repeated in a firm tone.  Your irises shone brighter.  "I don't want to."

"You don't want to?" Something snapped in the harbinger, and he threw himself at you with a catalyst in his hand.  A bolt of electricity hit the staff as you attempted to block his advance, and it instantly jarred your bones.

"Urk!"  Your back collided into the back wall of the arena.  Your body fell to its knees, your limbs violently twitching from his attack.  Xiao was also struggling a bit, but he breathed through the pain.  After all, he could handle more pain than your mortal body ever could.  "Hah.."  You started to get up even though your legs shook like jelly.

"I didn't say you could get up!" Scaramouche landed a hard kick to your stomach, and your head hit the wall again.  When you caught a glimpse of his face, it terrified you.  His eyes were pure malice, pure insanity.  They were cruel, and much more than Childe's ever were. The disregard for human life was on par with Dottore's.  Scaramouche yanked you to your feet by the collar of your shirt and slammed you into the wall again with a hand at your throat.  "When I give you an order, you follow it. Now do what you're told."

He backed off of you and let you pick the staff up again.  You wiped the blood away from the corner of your mouth and snuck a gaze at Xiao, remembering that he was feeling the exact pain you were.  Do I fight him? Your eyes wavered with conflict as you glanced back and forth between the harbinger and the yaksha.

This feels wrong, Xiao's conflicted thoughts plagued his decision of answering your question with a nod or  shake of the head.  I can't ask her to fight like this, but I can't ask that she avoid it either.  Both conclude with us battered and beaten--wait.  His brows furrowed at you.  Is she...trying to protect me?  Again?  A yaksha, who's known nothing but pain and death and can come out unscathed?  She's prioritizing me over her mortal self?  

Your gaze had long since removed itself from the yaksha, and you eyed the harbinger carefully while you twirled the polearm in your hands.  This man intentionally chose a pure metal object as my weapon so he could just electrocute me whenever he wanted.  Your shoulders shrunk back at this as you realized the true intents behind this 'exercise.'  One, to torture.  Two, to see if they can make you snap and prove their theories right.

You sure as hell weren't going to let them push you around if it was going to hurt Xiao.

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

Coming up:  Attempted escape.  A couple more Xiao x reader moments ;)

[shatouto]

more raised-sith anakin whump and jedi obi-wan comfort, co-written with @obiwanobi ! (also available on ao3) pls check out the rest of the series if you haven’t (it won’t make a lot of sense otherwise)

content note: non-graphic depiction of violence; mention of past sidious-style abuse; just please proceed with care

a little more

Anakin shivers alone in the nightly winds.

He counted exactly five sunsets and sunrises since the meditation incident. Obi-Wan never brought it up again, and acted like nothing happened. He still smiled and joked with such kind eyes; still asked Anakin about his progress on the newest cleaning droid in their quarters and offered to read to him before bed. Even Ahsoka never brought it up, even though Anakin was sure the Jedi would tell his apprentice about his major offense.

He couldn’t eat. He could hardly sleep. His stomach churned every time Obi-Wan said a gentle thing to him, in that usual melodic lilt of his. His breath halted every time Obi-Wan passed him by and pat his shoulder or brushed his hand. His Master had made him wait before, but never for this long without reminding him of his misdeed. But waiting time was meant to make the punishment more excruciating, so perhaps this is the point all along - that he suffers before he gets what he deserves. Or maybe the smiles are only a beautiful facade before the Jedi discards him for good. Because, let’s be frank: what worth does he have here?

The sky is a lightless inky ocean with not even a speck of starlight to speak of. Anakin turns his gaze one more time towards the lights of the Jedi dormitories. This is what he has to do, to be able to stay, he reasons. This is the only way.

He makes his way down.

The Lower Levels of Coruscant are singularly illuminated by artificial light, if they are illuminated at all. Here where celestial lights never reach, every grease-streaked face is tinted in the neon magenta and cyan of gaudy store signs, or the sickly green of long battery life storm lanterns. The alleys are perpetually murky, a certain stickiness that holds the sole of your shoes whenever you peel your feet from the ground. A cacophony of howling fight dogs echoes from afar, and the light above him flickers. Anakin doesn’t even need to glance around.

Here, there is no shortage of fists itching to throw a punch.

It takes little more than a shove and a cuss, to get himself thrown to the ground. Anakin springs back up onto his feet with ease; by then, several people, of various species and stature, have gathered around him. Some of them reeks of booze, others of blood. From there on, it’s easy.

His knuckles collide with a jaw. Bone cracks under his metallic fist. Force-blinds are no match for him; he has taken down dozens on his own when he was but a whelp under Master Sidious’s tutelage, thirteen years of age or so. That’s not to say they don’t land a good blow here and there, but a few bruises on the face are hardly more than a tickle compared to the burn scars that litter his body. When a sudden blast rings in the relative silence and misses him by a hair, Anakin grins. He whips around and uses the Force to simultaneously yank the blaster from the shooter’s hand and fling the marksman across the street. He opens fire.

Some of them fall, some of them run. Some of them remain, and then run when they see him toss the blaster away in favor of meeting them hand to hand. The more they come at him, shoot at him, the more his blood infuses with thrill. He feels renewed in misery, in the knowledge that this show of abandon will surely earn him the punishment he deserves, where all else failed. His metal fingers are capable of cutting skin, breaking bones, if he so wants, and he does. There’s blood on his hands, warm, soaking the sleeves of his too-soft robes. There has always been blood on his hand; a little more doesn’t make any difference.

When he’s done, Anakin thinks, he’ll be back in the Jedi’s quarters and kneel at the door to his bedroom. He’ll wait there, ready, so that when the sun rises, the Jedi will come and see what he has done. This is not something the Jedi can ignore in favor of delaying his punishment. He smiles and shivers at the same time at just the thought of it.

“Anakin, what are you doing?”

Obi-Wan’s startled voice runs him through like a spear. Anakin stops dead in his movements, wide-eyed. Obi-Wan? Here?

His pause promptly earns him a blaster shot to the shoulder. He snaps his head back towards the bastard who shot him, hand thrusted out in a Force-push. The shooter flies through the air and slams against a store sign. Another blaster fires.

Obi-Wan deflects it away from Anakin.

Anakin doesn’t know what’s happening anymore.

He staggers back and back away. This isn’t right. The Jedi should be asleep. He’s not meant to be in this nest of rats and vipers; not meant to know anything of this, to see Anakin in this state—just, just observe the aftermath and dispense his justice. Only the aftermath. Only when Anakin is ready.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Anakin says, his center lowered, his stance battle-ready. The scums around him scurry like cockroaches under the light of a lightsaber, even as Obi-Wan thumbs it off and clips it to his belt. “You should be in bed, not here.”

“The same could be said to you,” Obi-Wan says. Neon lights flicker on his face, his furrowed brows and tight lips, and there’s no light that’s ever been so dull, duller than the spark of dismay in his eyes that Anakin doesn’t want to acknowledge. “I would much prefer you to come back...”

“I have to be here.”

Obi-Wan is unflinching. He crosses his arms not only in a refusal to engage, but also in clear disapproval. “May I ask why?”

It’s the disapproval that makes Anakin’s heart drop.

“No,” he grits, breaths stuttering. He closes and opens his hand and warm sticky blood seeps into the cracks of his palm. If there is some semblance of a reflexive surface here, Anakin would look right into it, so desperate he is to see what color his eyes are. How does he look like to Obi-Wan right now? Does he deserve a punishment yet? Does he deserve anything?

Because if not, if he doesn’t, if he has no worth and Obi-Wan grows tired of him, he’ll be on his own again, facing the fact that he has lost everything and everyone and has nowhere to go and nothing to be. Hells, Anakin knows he shouldn’t be like this. He should be stronger than this. He shouldn’t be so weak as to fear losing any one man, let alone one Jedi, one stupid Jedi; he shouldn’t care; why does he care so much; he hates it, he hates it.

“Why are you here?” Anakin backs away, towards the source of sound - there’s a gambling den nearby, where he could conceivably squirrel himself away. “What are you trying to do?”

Obi-Wan only raises his hands, palm forward. “To get you home. Anakin, you have...”

“Bantha shit,” Anakin spits. They’ve gathered yet again a sizable amount of curious onlookers. “What do you want, Jedi?”

“Anakin, please, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Anakin roars, even though that is exactly what he has been seeking. Direct orders, uncomplicated. But not like this. Not with this benevolence. “If you’re not going to answer me then don’t fucking tell me what to do!” He steps back and back, and the only thing the Jedi does is match every backward step of his with one step forward of the exact same length. “Fuck you and your nice little lies; never say one straightforward thing, ever, because you’re too good for it, what a good Jedi. Just say you want to drag me back by the scruff and punish the nine hells out of me.” He gives a teeth-gritted grin. “Say it! I know you want to say it!”

Obi-Wan doesn’t even deign to look taken aback. He says nothing, does nothing, just stands there in that damned little display of harmlessness, so patient, so calm, like he’d be ready to ask for a cup of tea and sip it slowly while watching Anakin any moment now. So that’s how it is, huh?

The bystanders scatter in shrieks when one of them is suddenly lifted in the air, scrabbling at their neck with strangled noises. Anakin’s eyes are not even on them; he glares at the Jedi as his fingers curl. “Say it.”

Obi-Wan finally moves. He stands between the hapless stranger and Anakin. His eyes harden, the shadows on his face sharpen, and his voice turns steel-cold. “No.” He takes Anakin wrist in a vise-tight grip. “Let them go. Stop this, now.”

Finally.

Anakin lets go. Not just of the person, but of everything. He drops to his knees with his wrist still in Obi-Wan’s hand, and when it’s released, his arm swings down limply, colliding with his thigh in a dull slap. His head hangs as his eyes squeeze shut. He tucks his tongue back and tries not to wonder what it’ll be this time - lightning or lightsaber burn, electro-whip lashes or an invisible hand around his neck, water running over his face or the cold hard curved confines of the Sphere...

But nothing comes.

“Anakin.”

Obi-Wan’s voice has always been very soft for someone so capable at fighting; even so, this is probably the gentlest tone he’s used yet.

“Anakin,” he says again, and the name feels safe in his mouth.

Anakin won’t be fooled. His Master liked to lull him into a sense of safety during his lessons, coaxing him to let down his guard just to strike harder after and make sport of his tattered body. He should know better. He should…

“Anakin, please, look at me.”

Obi-Wan’s voice is worth a little more pain.

He opens his eyes to find Obi-Wan’s. The Jedi is crouched before him, close enough to touch if he wanted to. But he doesn’t. Anakin can’t decipher the look on his face or even the hand hanging in the air between them that doesn’t have a lightsaber in it ready to strike him or lightning to burn him.

“That’s it,” Obi-Wan says. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Anakin doesn’t dare to breathe too hard.

Obi-Wan’s brows knit together. “I could not understand why you would leave in the midst of a night to do this. Where have I wronged you?” He sighs again into silence. “You scared me, Anakin.”

A punishable offense. So here’s Obi-Wan Kenobi, listing his sins before punishing him, ordering him to keep his eyes open in wait of the punishment to come. Anakin stares at him, eyes stinging, waiting. But instead of the burning of a blade on his back or a slow Force-choke around his neck, calloused fingers find his wrist. They move lightly above his skin, cautious, taking their time as if to unravel the tension under his flesh, wrapping around his hand. Anakin braces himself for the twist, for the sudden deceit and pain. Instead, Obi-Wan's thumb starts rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand.

“May I take care of you, then?” Obi-Wan asks, and something in his voice breaks a bit. “You’re hurt, dear one.”

These last words are like a saber to his heart. Anakin never thought Obi-Wan could be this cruel.

“Don’t,” he chokes out his last defiance, as his fists start trembling, “don’t call me that.” He bows his head deeply and shuts his eyes and goes as still and silent as possible. His insides are curling in on themselves, yet he doesn’t dare move. He’s nearly holding his breath, as the air moves around him. Fabric rustles, and he can feel arms drawing around him, and This is it he thinks, this is it, the pain will come and he will finally be released—

Obi-Wan pulls him to his chest.

This is not right. This is not real. This can’t be true. Nobody could be this gentle; nobody could forgive just like that, not with the insults and insolence and innumerable unpunished offenses old and new. Anakin does not get touched like this. He should not. His shoulders are squared stiff and his muscles constrict so hard that he starts shaking. He can barely breathe, because every breath knives into his tightened throat. His nose stings and his eyes burn and he gasps for air, only to take in a sharp sob.

“Please don’t… Please don’t do this to me.” Anakin gulps, clutching his own torso, fearful of the sudden warmth and tenderness. “Just—just punish me, I deserve it, please punish m—” He nearly bites his tongue trying to suppress the next sob. Tears always angered his Master. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I beg of you, please stop making me wait, Master, I’m sorry, please, just…”

Obi-Wan pulls back only to take Anakin’s face in his hands. Thumbs wipe over his cheekbones. “I’m not your Master,” he hushes, brushing hair back from Anakin’s forehead. “I’m not going to punish you, Anakin.”

And then Obi-Wan does the unthinkable: he lowers his outermost mental shields. He lets Anakin in, on his own. His concern scatters across the expanse of his psyche like gemstones, like blinking stars. His words are as true as the moon. I would like to bring you home. I would like to keep you safe. Obi-Wan’s hand cradles the base of his skull. Lips press into his hair. I would like to see you smile.

Anakin’s mouth falls open in a wail. He smushes his face against the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and soaks his robes with tears. He cries his throat raw and parched, cries until his jaws tremble, his teeth clatter, his head goes light. He lets go of his own flanks and bunches his fists into Obi-Wan’s robes instead. Obi-Wan’s arms are wrapped firmly around him like a promise.

Anakin hiccups one last time, and sags.

—

Ahsoka paces near the Temple’s gate. The Temple Guards glance at her every once in a while, and she’s a little bit annoyed, maybe, but that’s nothing compared to the worry brewing in her chest right now. Dawn is peeking at the horizon, and her Master is nowhere to be found.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” she mutters to herself, flooding her and Obi-Wan’s bond with the rightful amount of indignation. You should’ve taken me with you, Master!

She’s surprised to feel Obi-Wan’s response immediately. A brief sense of reassurance, and a nearness - he’s approaching. His presence is too mired in concerns for her to make out the exact message, but she gets the sentiment. Her worries go through and mirror his own. They’re probably worrying about the same thing, then.

Ahsoka knows Obi-Wan is back before he’s even within sight. Yet the sight of him still suffuses her with equal parts relief and amazement. In the light of dawn, her Master marches into the Jedi Temple, a gentle silhouette against the rosy sky. Limp in his arms, head pillowed on his shoulder, is Anakin No-Name, formerly known as Darth Vader, currently unconscious.

“Let them both in.” Ahsoka tells the Temple Guards, showing them her datapad. “Words from Master Yoda.”

Obi-Wan looks at her gently, mouthing a soft thank. Her steps fall beside his, and for a while there are only the sounds of their footsteps echoing in the great hall.

“Master.” Her eyes flick to Anakin, noting his red, puffy eyes in stark contrast with his ashen face and… are those dried tears? There is blood on the ex-Sith’s robes and on her Master’s and she sort of really wants to know which is whose. “Is he alright?”

“More or less,” Obi-Wan answers. Ahsoka frowns at him, yet he seems too deep in thoughts to notice that. She sets a hand on his arm.

“Master, the Council has…”

“I know, young one.” Obi-Wan pauses when Anakin chuffs, shuffling his arm to rearrange the ex-Sith in a more comfortable position, and continues on his way. “I would prefer you to go back to sleep. This is my responsibility to bear.”

[harbouredsoulss]

Is There Somewhere?

Author’s note: I was inspired by Halsey’s Is There Somewhere (at least parts of it) which I absolutely love! I am so new to writing fanfiction on tumblr so please bare with me as I work things out. Also any tips on how to navigate the writing world of tumblr would be greatly appreciated, I mainly used to write my fanfiction on Wattpad which is completely different (obviously) than tumblr. I never really got into the whole [y/n] within fanfiction so I have kind of just avoided mentioning Angel’s SO’s name and wrote this from first person perspective. I really hope this is okay. I really hope people enjoy this! Please let me know if you want more, of this or other stuff. I am excited to (hopefully) work on any submissions and other bits of drabble here and there! 

Right now I am only wanting to work on Ez and Angel Reyes, Coco, possibly Miguel and a few others. My main focus atm will be Angel and Ez. I love them fellas. I am so nervous about posting this. I have read through it so many times since finishing it. I hope its okay. I have had to stop myself from reading through it again otherwise I will never post it. 

Anyways, here is to my first Mayans fic! 💖

Angel Reyes X [OC] 

Warnings: sex & swearing - 18 +

Word count: 1.4k words 

Summary: Based off a bit of dialogue I thought up “What if for one night we just got out of here. Leave this place behind. If only for a moment”. 

Angel is confronted with his SO’s confession of wanting to escape their home for a brief period of time whilst the club and his home, Santo Padre struggle to survive. This is set at the end of S2 beginning of S3 [Eps 1&2] *NO SPOILERS FOR S3*

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 “What if we just left Santo Padre.”

“What… like right now?

“Yes.”

 “Just leave. It doesn’t have to be long. Just long enough to breath.”

Our fingers were intertwined, with my back against his chest I could feel every intake of breath. I brought his knuckles to my lips kissing them gently. I could see the faint bruising and scarring that littered them. I knew it was not self-inflicted and the chances were the person on the other end looked worse, but I still wished I could kiss the scars away. 

His fingers were soft as the traced my left arm. Up and down. I found so much comfort – safety, in these arms. 

“With everything that’s going on...” I trailed off not knowing where to continue. 

These thoughts have been ringing through my mind for weeks. As had the fear. Fear of rejection. I knew how much being here meant to him. But I needed him; I need this time to just be with him. Before it all comes crashing down. 

I could feel his eyes on me.

My head rested perfectly underneath his chin, my body flush against his chest, and legs intertwined with his. Yet I knew he was watching me. Every shallow, shaky intake of breath as I tried to form words. But he didn’t stop touching me. His fingers continued to move. Up and down. 

 “I know you have the club and your pop… Angel and I am not- I’d never ask you to leave forever… Shit…” 

Everything that came out sounded wrong. 

Taking a deep breath, I continued. Releasing myself from his hold I twisted around and looked up at him. He looked so relaxed and impassive; I couldn’t read him. This was new for me, usually he was easy to read. 

Caressing his cheek slowly I dragged my hand down his face, his neck, traced his collar bone and felt my way to his chest, splaying my hands on the thin shirt separating our skin. I could see his tattoos peeking through the white material.  

“I know how much the club means to you, Angel, and you know I would never ask you to leave them for me. I just-everything has been so intense lately. I just want space from it all and I want you with me. I just want things to go back to normal, and fuck. I know things will never be normal again. I just want one moment – maybe a few.” I chuckled, looking back up into his eyes, silently begging, “Just to get me through these months with you out risking your ass.”

Trailing off I didn’t know what else to say without actually begging. Everything had been laid out on the table. It was all up to him now. 

Staring deep into his eyes my mind continued to whirl with so many thoughts.

Would he consider it? I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted me – that he loved me, but was it enough? 

Things were hard now, Angel was needed. We all were. 

I knew deep down that it wouldn’t be the end if he said no., I would feel incredibly insecure, silly and stupid but we would move on. Probably end up screwing our brains out and just move on… and I would be okay with that. At least... I would tell myself that – convince myself if need be. 

It wouldn’t stop the fear though. I knew what has coming – hell its already arrived. Border shut-down. The DOJ moving in on the Cartel and the Mayans – Angel. I couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t lose me. Even just the thought alone was dangerous. 

I scrunched his shirt in the palm of my hand, and brought it back down using my fingers to smooth out the crinkles. I looked back up and found his gaze locked on the doorway across the room. Biting my lip, I bit back the disappointment.  

“Angel,” I pleaded, “can you look at me please, baby.”

He took a moment, which felt like an eternity. But slowly he turned his gaze back to me. I smiled faintly. It was probably cringeworthy. But I tried. I waited for something – anything. A smirk, a smile. Hell, I would have taken a chuckle at this point. 

I couldn’t get a read on him. I could see the wheels turning in his mind but seeing and knowing were two different things and I had to know – I just had to. Would we stay or would we go?

More time had passed in silence with nothing but our breathing filling up the space in the room. Shaking my head, I propped myself on the sofa preparing to move and leave. 

“Fine. It was a stupid idea, forget it.” 

Before I could even blink, Angel had leaned forward, grabbing my wrist, he dragged me back down, bringing my face within an inch of his own – a breath apart. Lips grazing one another’s. I took a shallow breath, not in fear but anticipation.  

“I can’t…” breathing heavily. Letting me go, he gripped my neck, “If you had asked me this a year ago, I would have said no. But I am so fucking in love with you, mi amor, I can’t lose you.”

“I’m right here Angel.”

I claimed his lips quickly in a burst of desperation. I needed him. I needed to feel him. Feel something. 

His grip on my neck tightened as he kissed me deeper. My hands splayed across his chest keeping myself upright as I kissed him fiercely. The man I loved . 

I was feral with need. I gripped his kutte, dragging it down his shoulders. Our mouths separated briefly in our desperate need to become closer. 

One by one our clothes were strewn across the living room floor, our naked bodies intertwined. The swell of my breasts pressed to his naked chest, hands groping his naked flesh. 

“Angel,” I whimpered as his mouth found the crook of my neck, lips puckering as he sucked. Teeth bared against flesh nipping my skin.

“Fuck,” he breath heavily against my skin, “you’re so fucking wet,” fingers lighting tracing my pussy, fingers massaging my clit. 

Pulling away briefly, his hands gripped my hips, grinding me down against his length, rubbing my sensitive flesh against him, up and down. The pressure began to build slowly. 

I was hazy with lust as I looked at him through half-lidded eyes. 

Releasing my waist, he let me begin to pick up the pace, his hands found my breast, fingers tweaking my nipple as I rubbed myself against him. 

“I need you,” he whispered breathlessly, my breast engulfing his mouth.

I leaned back, mouth still latched to my skin, my hand gripping his cock, lining him at my entrance. 

In unison gasps left our mouths as his cock pushed its way inside me. 

I lifted myself up, feeling him slide ever so slowly out, and pushed myself down. I repeated this over and over at a leisurely pace. I revelled in the feel of him inside me, and our sticky bodies connected as one. 

Sweat slicked across his forehead. 

He was watching me as I rode him, one hand playing with my nipple, tweaking the little bud, whilst the other rubbed my clit – over and over. 

I took my time with Angel, riding him at a slow pace. It was torture, but I loved it. We needed this. To just feel each other. I could have done this forever. 

 Yet Angel needed more. 

He needed to feel like he owned me. That he had me. 

“Fuck me papi,” I moaned, “Fuck me hard.”

The sound of skin on skin slapping together echoed throughout the house. As did our moans, and my screams for Angel to not stop – to never stop fucking me. The pressure was building higher and higher as Angel pounded me harder and harder, my fingers rubbing furiously against my clit. 

Nails dug deep into the flesh of his shoulders as we got further to chasing our orgasms. Blood seeping from the cuts.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” 

Those were his last words he uttered before spilling himself inside me. 

I screamed his name as I felt himself spurt inside, taking me with him. My body shook as my orgasm washed through me, my lips seeking his once again as I rode him slowly through it. His cock slipped out briefly, trailing his cum over his skin. I slipped him back inside not done with the feel of him inside me.

It took a few moments of contentment and calm to wash over us. We were still in our post-sex haze, drunk on each other. He was still inside me, his cum leaking out onto our skin, and onto the sofa. 

“I take that as a yes?” I breathed, smirking. 

All I got in response was his lips on mine, hands massaging my ass, cock hardening inside me.