#you could also smoke weed in their honor if that's your thing. i feel like that's a good way to celebrate lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jj-maybank123 · 2 years ago

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ICU

JJ Maybank x Fem! Reader

Warnings: None

Author’s note: Hey!! I’m new into the OBX fandom. I fell in love with JJ and I wrote this quick thing :) Also, this happens in between them finding out John B is alive and them reuniting in Charleston.

Summary: Based on ICU by Phoebe Bridgers

The grass was cold against her warm sun-kissed skin. Y/N was lying on the front lawn of her house as JJ tried to pick the lock of the front door of her shitty house. What started out as an innocent get together at the Chateau had quickly turned into drinking, smoking, and a late night swim. It was around 2am when everyone left and JJ offered to walk her home, he had decided it wouldn’t be safe for her to walk alone even though it was just a couple of blocks and she had done it a million times before.

“JJ, leave it. I’m tired and I wanna sleep. I’ll just sleep outside,” Y/N groaned. “...or climb the window.”

They had been stuck outside of her house for about an hour trying to open a door. Her Mom was working a night shift and she couldn’t find her keys anywhere, after retracing her steps she deemed it a lost cause but JJ insisted he could pick the lock and asked for her hairpin. At first she stood beside him, even tried to do it herself, but after the first 30 minutes she decided there was no point in trying the impossible. However, JJ wouldn’t budge. He was convinced she had used a hidden key a few years ago to get them inside.

“You are not climbing anything, okay? You’re still drunk.” JJ placed his hands on his hips, his eyebrows furrowed and his hair slightly messy.

“I’ll just wait here until I feel fine enough to climb,” She insisted.

He sighed, before walking away from the front door towards her, “Okay, fine.”

She was about to say goodbye when JJ laid down next to her.

“I’ll wait with you.”

“JJ,” She said firmly, “Go home. You need to rest, you have work in like 4 hours.”

Their shoulders were just barely touching as they laid side by side, face turned so they could see each other.

“What if a bear attacks you?” he said.

“A bear? In the Outer banks?” He nodded. She rolled her eyes and laughed, “If a bear was to attack me right now I don’t think you’d be able to stop it. Leave and save yourself.”

“I totally would. You’re acting like I haven’t saved you before.”

“Please tell me when you’ve saved me.”

JJ shifted his body to be fully facing her. “That one time you fell off the swing and I carried you home.”

“That was like ten years ago-”

“When you almost drowned that one time last summer. When you fell from your bike. Yesterday, you made me go to your house to kill a spider. Uhhhh - Rafe! That’s a big one. Fought him for your honor. ”

“You got knocked out.”

“Yeah, after saving you!” He touched his chin with his pointer finger, “Let’s see what else.”

“Stop!” She was laughing, he wouldn’t stop naming the most random things he had done throughout the many years they had been friends.

“When you didn’t write that essay for Terry’s class, I called you in sick. Took the blame for the weed your mom found in your room, saved you from that too. When your tire popped in the middle of nowhere and John B and I drove all the way and fixed it. That one time you got so drunk I snuck you into-”

“Okay! Okay! I get it! You’re my knight and shining armor and I can’t be without you. Please stay.”

His eyes softened, “Always.”

He laid back down and a comfortable silence fell over them. They both looked up to the sky. It was a clear night, and they could see the bright stars shining above them. The only thing that could be heard was their breathing and grasshoppers chirping, but neither felt the need to say anything. They didn’t have to.

She was close with the other Pogues, of course, but it was different between her and JJ. They had always been comfortable around each other, no need to pretend. In many ways he knew her better than anyone else, even herself. To her, JJ was it. She had been in love with him since she was old enough to think and for a long time she thought maybe it could be mutual. That somehow JJ Maybank could love her back.

The last couple of months had been crazy, between finding the ship, gold, and John B being declared dead. But even with all the craziness, Y/N had never felt more alive, for the first time she was doing things for herself and not thinking about work and her mom. Somehow this summer had brought them closer together and things began to change between them. Stolen glances, lingering touches, excuses to be together for longer...everything was great but she couldn’t help but want more.

“I feel like I didn’t start living until a few months ago,” Y/N broke the silence. JJ looked at her slightly confused.

“What do you mean?”

“Like I’ve been dead for years, you know? Not literally, but I was always pretending to be someone I’m not. But not anymore.” Not with you. “Like my life began the moment that we found that boat. I mean, sure the whole thinking-John-B-was-dead thing was horrible but it led to kinda great things and for the first time in so long I feel happy. But I’m so scared that things will suck again.”

She paused but JJ didn’t say anything, he just stared at her. Suddenly she felt stupid for opening her mouth.

“I’m sorry that makes no sense. I’m just thinking out loud. It’s probably the alcohol.”

“No, no. That makes all the sense in the world,” JJ sat up, “It’s like everything is so great now and I feel like it won’t last or that I’ll ruin it the way I always ruin things.”

“You don’t ruin things. Don’t say that,” She sat up and looked at him with so much care. How could he ever think that?

“Yeah, well, that’s not what my Dad thinks,” he said, “He always goes on about how I ruined his life and how I don’t have a future or that I’ll end up in jail.”

“I hate your Dad,” she said and she meant it. She hated the way he talked to him, she hated having to ice the bruises he’d give him. “Don’t listen to him. He has no idea what he is talking about.”

He avoided her eyes and started picking the grass. “I don’t know about that.”

“Hey,” She gently cupped his face so that he was facing her, “I mean it. You’re amazing, JJ.”

“How do you know?” He asked.

“I see you,” Y/N said without a second of thought, “The way you truly are and it’s great.”

They stayed like that for a few moments, just looking at each other. Their eyes saying everything they didn’t have the courage to say. They had never been this close before, faces just inches away. She could see every detail of his face. How beautiful he was, the way his hair fell perfectly, a small scar on his forehead, his lips.

JJ looked down for a second before looking at her again, “That feeling that everything might go wrong… it disappears when I’m with you. I get the opposite actually, like everything might be okay.”

“Me too.” She spoke barely above a whisper.

Slowly, like gravity on a feather, they started leaning towards each other. Hesitation on both sides, knowing that kissing could change everything. That finally they could be transparent about their feelings, about how mad they are for each other, about how the real fear is about losing each other. Their noses touched, she could feel him breathing, his shaking hand came up to cup her neck. Y/N was leaning into his lips when suddenly he jerked away, his hand dropping.

Y/N was stunned. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think. All she felt was her heart breaking as tears of humiliation and sadness filled her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” JJ said as he ran his hand through his hair, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She said quietly, hoping her voice wouldn’t crack.

“No, it’s not. I always do this, I always ruin things. I’m sorry,” His voice rose a little bit, he was frustrated. He took a deep breath and said, “You’re my friend. I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You won't,” Y/N said after a few moments of silence. She had decided that the only thing worse than JJ not loving her back would be to lose him completely. Having him as a friend would be better than not having him at all. “You’re my knight and shining armor, remember?”

“You don’t need me to protect you.”

“Maybe,” she felt her chest tighten, “But I like it when you do.”

“Yeah?” His voice was soft and vulnerable.

“Yeah. You just have to learn how to punch better and forget the gun.”

JJ laughed, “I’ll work on it just for you.”

“Good.” She smiled at him.

Silence fell over them, only this time it was different. The things left unsaid and undone lingered in the air. Regret and curiosity plagued their mind. They became aware of their surroundings. Sitting further from each other than they usually would, heavy eyelids due to the lack of sleep, the warm summer breeze that wrapped around them and the lack of darkness as the horizon turned into shades of oranges and pinks.

“I should probably go to bed,” she said, looking at the sky.

“Can we just stay here for a little bit?” JJ’s voice was small, like he was afraid of asking.

He let out a breath of relief when she nodded. They laid on the ground again, shoulders barely brushing, hands millimeters away; so close yet so far away.

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj Maybank imagine #jj obx #jj x reader

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harudnae · 10 months ago

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The Great Draft Eradication Plan was a good idea, there were a lot of honorable deaths but at least the WIP folder is starting to look good. Today I deliver a Gaban x Reader 420-friendly one-shot!

(Fun fact: I started writing this such a long while ago that I quit smoking since... Anyway, I wrote it so I might as well post it.)

Also posted on AO3 on 2024.01.19

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Gaban x GN!Reader

Summary: You're smoking pot on the Oro Jackson's decks when Gaban invites himself in.

Content warnings : weed smoking, flirting, kissing, rated M for drugs & naughty thoughts, no smut in here, no pronouns used for Reader, no body description either

Word count: <2.5k

🌿 Zamalia

It's late at night and the party is as lively as ever on the decks of the Oro Jackson.

You're already pleasantly buzzed from the rum you looted a couple of days ago from a rival crew, but alcohol isn't the only thing you enjoy in such circumstances. You leave the rowdy crowd and lazily make your way to the prow, then you glance behind you to check that nobody followed you, and finally you lean against the railing and roll a joint. You light it up facing the endless sea, sparkling with moonlight and reflections of stars. You exhale a cloud of smoke and smile to yourself, content with your life at sea, more so as a proud Roger Pirate. You haven't been here for long, but the crew quickly grew on you and you'd never dream of being anywhere else right now. You tilt your head up and let your body relax while you smoke and observe the starry sky.

"What are you doing here?"

You stiffen a little at Gaban's voice behind you, then you turn your head around. You nod towards your half-smoked blunt, a sheepish smile on your face. "Smoking pot."

Gaban grins as he approaches you. "Ah, you don't want to get scolded by Crocus now, do you?"

You shrug. "I was avoiding the cabin boys, mostly."

"That's fair." He leans against the railing next to you. "Would you share?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Didn't know you smoked, too."

Gaban chuckles. "Sometimes. I'm just better at hiding", he winks.

You draw your tongue out as you pass him the blunt.

He offers you a sly grin in return.

You observe the way his lips wrap around the tip as he takes a first drag, and how they part as he exhales a cloud of smoke. Fuck, I never thought I'd wish to be a blunt.

"Thanks. It's good stuff, too... Where did you get that?"

"A couple of islands away. A guy at an inn..."

Gaban smiles wide as he asks, "The one in New Marla?"

You squint. "How...?" Oh, right, he smokes too. You exhale a chuckle. "Okay, never mind", you slide him a knowing glance.

"Yeah, I bought him some, too. I stashed some from Zamalia as well before you joined us, I can spare some if you want."

You open wide eyes. "Zamalia? You bet I want to try! I heard they've got the best stuff there."

Gaban chuckles. "You heard right."

"So you're a connoisseur, huh? How did you pick the habit?"

Gaban tilts his chin towards the ruckus of the partying crew. "It's hard to sleep sometimes with these ones around", he says, smiling.

You heartily laugh. "Yeah, I know..."

He hands you the blunt. "How did you?"

"It helps me relax", you explain as you grab the smoke, your fingers slightly brushing against his. "Somewhat."

Gaban removes his glasses and tucks them across the collar of his shirt, leaning a bit towards you to meet your gaze. "You nervous?"

You barely maintain eye contact for a second before glaring back at the sea. Your face feels warmer in such close proximity to Gaban, and your heart beats faster, too. How could you have known that he'd join you right now? Now you're high enough that his voice does weird things to you, not to mention you acknowledged your crush on him only a few weeks ago and his last sentence sounded like something straight out of a wet dream.

"I didn't think we were so intimidating", he continues, voice deep and slightly playful.

You exhale a soft sigh. "You aren't." Well... in a way, you are, but I'm not about to tell you that. You pointedly keep watching the glimmering sea, but you still see him tilting his head to the side, from the corner of your eye.

"Why the need to relax, then?"

You slightly grin. "It's just... a way to unwind, same as having a drink. Back in my homeland we party more often around blunts than booze, mostly because weed grows literally everywhere while alcohol is pretty expensive in comparison. I do enjoy drinking, but not as much as I like being high."

"That's fair. Do you need a refill, by the way?" He eyes your empty jug.

You nod the negative. "I had enough already, I'm going to keep to smoking now. Thanks, though."

Gaban smiles. "Hm. Wanna try some of of that Zamalia stuff, then?"

A delighted grin curve your lips and your whole face lightens. "Ooh, I'd love to!"

He exhales an acknowledging hum and nods. "Wait here", he says as he gets off the railing and puts his glasses back on, "I'll get a refill and the rest."

"Cool, thanks." Your gaze follows him as he retreats to the lower decks, and you turn your head around only once he's out of sight. You lick your lips and take a deep breath. Okay, so Gaban and I are going to get high together, that's a thing that's actually happening. Wow, holy shit, I hope I won't get awkward, or... horny. Either way I'm going to feast on eye candy for the rest of the night. You take another deep breath and lean onto the railing. Your gaze drifts across the calm sea, a giddy smile curving your lips as you contemplate your luck.

Gaban's unmistakable tread on the Adam wood interrupts your daydreaming, making your heart race at the prospect of quality time with your crush. His footsteps slow down as he gets closer, then they stop a little behind you.

You breathe a little more heavily as you feel the weight of his stare behind you, wondering what he's up to.

"The view's really nice", Gaban says.

You straighten up in alarm, suddenly very aware that you're bent over the railing and presenting your whole backside. A split second after you turn your burning face around.

Gaban doesn't move from where he stands, a couple of feet from where he stood earlier at the railing, not quite right behind you but far enough that he could see both the sea and you. He grins, chin up and moonlight shining in his glasses.

You squint, mentally cursing said glasses for concealing his eyes because you're pretty sure he wasn't staring over the railing just now. Then you reason that you're probably getting ideas because you're already a bit high and you've got a huge crush. "Indeed", you exhale after a quiet while.

Gaban turns to you, smile widening, and hands you a pouch he fetches from one of his pockets. "Do you want to roll one?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, sure, thank you." You breath hitches a little when the warmth of his hand briefly brushes against your fingers, and you try to stay focused on your task, instead of hoping for more than just partaking.

Thankfully, Gaban chit-chats while you roll, a pleasant distraction from your dangerous thoughts. He's always been easy-going with you, from your very first day in the crew, as well as attentive to your well-being as much as the rest of the crew's even though you came aboard later than most. Until now, he's shown nothing but kindness towards you.

You assume that, being so close to Captain Roger and Rayleigh in terms of authority over the crew, Gaban acts the same with every other new recruit. Calm down, heart, there's nothing personal.

Gaban removes his glasses and tucks them across his collar, gazing at you while you light the new blunt.

You make eye contact when you inhale the smoke, keeping it inside your lungs a bit longer than necessary. You turn back to the sea to exhale, cheeks a little warmer. "It's really good", you comment. Your eyes drift to the wisps of smoke rising from the blunt while you focus on the taste. "I can tell it's strong stuff just with one drag... It's not overwhelming, though."

"Yeah! I really liked the the lemony kind of tang, too."

You nod the affirmative. "Mh-hmm". A few puffs in and your skin is a little more sensitive, tingling where the wind blows, heating where Gaban's gaze lingers a little too long – your hand that holds the blunt, your lips when you exhale, your nape or shoulder when you look upon the calm waves under the moonlit sky. Your heart beats faster too. Being high certainly doesn't help, but you're absolutely positive that it's not the only reason... In such close proximity to Gaban you're all fuzzy inside. When did smoking become so intimate? Am I overthinking things? Or am I just hyper aware of things now that I'm high? You turn to him when he detaches his gaze from you to drink from his jug. Warmth coils inside you as you observe the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and you repress the sudden urge to plant a kiss there.

Gaban turns back to you, absentmindedly licking a stray drop off his lower lip. "So? What d'you think?"

Very hot. You blink, clear your throat, and look at the blunt. "Oh." You stumble on your words, "Um, very good. Tasty, strong stuff. Thanks for sharing." You huff an awkward laugh, unable to tell if you're talking about the weed or about him. You purse your lips and pass the joint. "I'll have to take it easy with that one", you confess, already feeling much higher than you expected with just a few drags.

"Alright", Gaban says as he takes his turn, then he laughs. "Now you know why I still have some of this after all this time", he reveals, "so don't feel pressured to smoke or anything. I only want to share if you enjoy it."

You crack a soft smile. "Thanks, I appreciate."

Gaban wraps a hand around your shoulder and gently squeezes, eyes diving into yours. "I don't want you to get sick, okay?"

Your heart misses a beat at his touch, warm and tender. Your smile widens and you look back at the sea as your cheeks heat up again. "Yeah, don't worry, I won't. It's really good, I do enjoy this", you mumble, once again unsure whether you're talking about getting high or not.

Gaban squeezes again, then his hand slides off your shoulder as he leans back onto the railing.

You fight against the urge to lean towards him and chase his body warmth. Instead, you prop your elbows on the railing and lean down to rest your head, purposefully avoiding eye contact. You exhale a small sigh.

"You wanna go to bed?"

Your shoulder tense a little at the mental images of a bed that spawn into your mind – every single one featuring you and Gaban over it in various positions – and your face heats up in embarrassment.

"I mean, I understand if it's strong enough to make you sleepy."

You shake your head to clear your mind of dangerous thoughts yet again invading it. Then you crack a smile and turn your attention back to him. "No, it's okay. I'm just... glad to be here, it's nice."

Gaban grins wide. "You like this crew, this ship?"

You eagerly nod. "A lot." Your gaze idly drifts to his hands. "But I was talking about right now, here."

"Less noise around?"

You meet his gaze again. "Yeah. It's nice to have some calmer moments, too."

He still smiles when he passes you the blunt. "More so in good company."

Your fingers brush against his slightly longer than necessary. You have no idea.

Gaban glances at you, a curious eyebrow raised.

You briskly turn your attention back to the sea as you realize that you just said that out loud. Your smile falters and your heart threatens to burst while you wait for the inevitable, terrible predicament.

"(y/n)?"

Your shoulders tense.

"Is this mutual interest I heard?"

You take a long drag from the blunt. Interest, sure. Mutual, though? Wait– You hold the smoke inside your lungs and turn back to him.

He looks at you expectantly, a small smile curving his lips when your gaze lingers there.

You exhale the smoke and finally breathe out, "Yeah."

Gaban's smile widens, turning mischievous. "Then I'm glad I saw you leave the party earlier."

"You came here on purpose?" You lean back up and turn around to face him. "Not just wandering around and finding me randomly?"

Gaban raises his hands. "Guilty as charged."

You raise an interested eyebrow. Emboldened by your recent findings, you step into his personal space and confess, "Well, you've been on my mind for a while..."

He places a hand on the small of our back, pulling you closer. "How long?", he asks as he leans in, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

"Too long", you exhale before closing the last of distance between you. You close your eyes when Gaban's lips touch yours, full and soft and warm, and you almost melt at the contact. Your hands find anchor on his hips, gently pulling him flush against you when your tongue slides against his lower lip.

Gaban's free hand wraps around your nape and tilts your head to deepen the kiss.

Fuck, he's good at this. You sigh into his mouth and answer in kind, warmth pooling in your gut while your hands mindlessly explore the broad expanse of his back.

He breaks the kiss at some point, and he softly smiles when your lips chase after his. His gaze dives into yours and he runs his fingertips around your neck, following your jawline before tilting your chin up.

Breath short, tense with anticipation, you lightly bite your lower lip.

Gaban softly sighs, then confesses, "I really want you right now..."

You crack a smile. "Me too."

"Wanna move...?" He trails out, tilting his head towards the other side of the ship.

You heartily nod.

Gaban leans in for a searing kiss, and doesn't leave you time to recover before he grabs your hand and leads the way to the lower decks.

You all too happily follow him, elated at the prospect of spending some private time with him. Your heart drums loud within your chest by the time you reach his cabin, and you're absolutely certain it's not only because of the weed you shared.

#one piece #op fic #one piece x reader #x reader #gaban #gaban x reader #nae's writing

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ducknotinarow · 1 year ago

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Impurtity Test:

Raphael Edition

"Uh I might need to rethink some things? I don't Think Case would be all to happy to see this result?"

Nah I would more credit this to the fact Raphael often doesn't see reason for them to get involved in human matters, or moments he feels the cops should be the ones to get involved. Raphael isn't often one to spring into action like Leo or Mikey can be. But Raphael also will when he feels he needs to or should like when he wont going on the masquerade boat party. He was pretty insistent on helping the people on the boat. As they say your first reaction doesn't define you but your actions after do.

"And Leo's always going on 'bout my honor what not, but yeah I guess my drinkin' habits can be sort a bad 'hing time ta time but eh whatever."

I have mentioned in the past that Raphael in a borderline Alcoholic. Especially when it comes to his self harm habits. It when it can be the worse if anything. Raphael is someone who been dumb enough to have a drink here or there before going top side as well meaning hes sort done it to add a thrill to his fighting. Not to mention as fun as it is for him to have his drinking binges with Casey and Von its clear he only dose so when hes upset and drowning that away isn't really a good sign.

"Don't show 'his to anyone I feel they buy the alcohol but I jus' know the sex bein' highest would get me ragged on...mostly by casey."

I keep saying it Raph is horny uwu Raph just is someone thats highly active when it comes to be horny is all. Where other may more perfer stuff done to them he wants to be the one doing more. I do feel Raph could go either role but he dose perfer topping and take charge just gets him off the thought someone wants him so bad they will take anything he allows uwu Hes pretty into a lot of kinks that follow with this along with the idea of that person belonging to him down to thier body being like his play thing uwu its an odd sense of security for him. If anything his drinking habits likely help cover buuuuut Raph would be so down to fuck drunk.

"Eh highschool what can I say."

A tad surpised hoe even some of this is but I will say taking into account Raph has a new outside factor of influence and that being high school this dose opens the doors for Raph to lean into more things out of peer pressure. Not so much forced to do it but in situation where others are he just might. Especially since I feel Raphs gonna be around a rowdy crowd after joining the wrestling team. Sort of the only other Raph I can see trying drugs the other being 12. Raph already displays a need to look cool in front of his brothers so yeeeah that gonna carry over with them making humans friend. Raph might wind up needing a saving because he drank a little too much and never had a drop before. Or feel sick from smoking a bit too much weed with the team. uwu

"hmmm nah that seems 'bout 'ight."

I know this is a small self contained game but I do truly love how Raph is in this game something about how he seems to be at a point where he has learned to control his anger it still gets the better of him but he has a handle on himself even enough to be able to talk sense into Leo on his lone wolf bull uwu. But I would still say Raph is someone who dose very much got his vices. Hes very about getting things done not really caring about it being honorable or morally right. Of course hes got some vices I have wirtten him drinking here and there I feel he cut back when Splinter was missing but once home he let himself indulge a bit. Course he also allowed his sexual exploration to awaken as well uwu sooo Casey be ready >>

#muse| hamato raphael #dash games #((its been awhile since I done one uwu so here))#tw: alcohol mentioned #tw: sex mentioned #tw: drugs mentioned #[87 verse]#[03 verse]#[12 verse]#[mayhem verse]#[sf verse]

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beholdthemem · 6 years ago

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That Older Sister Feel ™ when your younger sister talks about some bull shit she did as a teenager and you immediately flashback to when you were a teenager and couldn’t even let yourself consider doing something you wanted to do if there was the slightest chance that it could potentially have negative repercussions on the family.

What was I doing at seventeen, sis? Gee! I don’t know! I guess I was

taking care of you

taking care of Dad

cleaning up everyone else’s emotional messes

keeping everyone’s secrets so they couldn’t hurt each other

carefully training myself to disassociate instead of break down so nobody would have to worry about my mental health issues too

studying

keeping my head down

assuring everyone on the outside that everything was Just Fine At Home!

I didn’t get to be stupid.

I didn’t get to be a teenager.

I got the be the Mom.

#personal #people act like the daughter stepping up to fill her mother's shoes after she passes away is some noble honorable thing #it isn't.#it just sucks.#its exhausting and soul sucking and you sign away something youll never get to have back because youre too young to know better #and by the time you do its passed you by. its gone.#i did not GET to be stupid i did not GET to sneak out i did not get to smoke weed or drive illegally or steal #i was thirteen and suddenly i had gone straight to thirty five #time to be a grown up now #and FUCK it would make me so mad!#id tell myself that i was mad because shed done some stupid reckless thing and put herself and dads mental health in danger #but deep down that was only part of it #i was mad about that #but i was also mad that she could just do these things and never once stop to feel guilty for letting herself do it #'im a teenager! this is normal!' shed say #why did you get to feel like you could be and i never did

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stanfordsweater · 2 years ago

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hallo ava, happy wincest wednesday. in honor of the return of your name, how much do you think late-seasons sam actually thinks about his college years? and does he ever share that with dean?

a week late but here we go!

we know sam considered finishing his degree as late as season eight, so it’s easy to fill in the blanks and assume he did some online credits, but i think that the chaos of the trials, gadreel, and then the mark and amara put it on the backburner. by the end of season eleven, sam and dean have really settled into their relationship in a way we haven’t seen before in the series. i don’t think that s11 sam thinks about it the way s8 sam did-- he’s boxed up his college aspirations with amelia and a “real life” and tucked it away in his head, as he does with so many things. (not to mention that i’m pretty sure sam winchester is legally dead or a wanted criminal after the leviathan drama. does that void your college credits? lmk)

stanford represented something for sam at 18 that isn’t there anymore for sam at 35. it’s a lifetime away from the multiple apocalypses he’s weathered. i think he turns it over in his head the same way he does jess-- he grieves her, he regrets the path that led him where he is, but he knows that if he had a chance to do it again, he would still pick dean. and that’s the crux of it; having dean means not going back, and i have a hard time imagining sam sitting in a lecture hall and not feeling a huge sense of alienation from the people around him.

that being said, once they’re older and settled in the life they have together, i do think sam could bring up his college regrets with dean without dean reacting like he does in season 8! whether that’s after amara, in the grace period between 15.19 and 15.20, in between all of the torture in season 12... there’s a different context to your brother sharing a story of the first time he smoked weed with his roommate when you’re both living together in a creepy bunker vs. him talking about it as his Real Life a few months after you took him away from it. as much as some people hate to admit it, dean is more reasonable than people tend to portray him. in the late seasons, he wants sam to be happy, he just wants sam to be happy with him in his life. if sam wanted to talk about college, i can see dean feeling insecure about it, but he’d get over it and listen because he’s not a psychopath. he might also start stress-eating, but who can blame him?

tl;dr i think in the late-seasons settled era, dean would appreciate sam sharing those stories with him. i think sam would find a kind of relief in it, too-- so much of those years were tainted with the knowledge of how much of his life was manipulated by demons, that brady set him up with jess just to kill her when sam “needed the push,” and being able to talk about the normal coming of age shit with dean would do a lot to lay those regrets to rest.

#tl;dr again sam is a thinker but he's not actually a wallower #[slaps hood] you can fit so much regret in this baby #and he'll think about it quietly for a while and then look at his brother #and tuck those thoughts away in a safe #anyway thank you <3 i hope any of this makes sense #.asks #zmediaoutlet #also yes i found the ask! it turns out when you save an ask to drafts it goes chronologically #based on when the ask was sent #so i just had to scroll a little #wincest wednesday

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apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago

Note

okay but imagine edgy!karl but with the spice of closer by nine inch nails just a thought

EVERYONE: WE'RE TAKING THE SONG AT FACE VALUE CHILLAX

edit by 🍭 anon. step on me.

𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞: "... 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋..." | 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐲!𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥

link for Closer by NIN

warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, vulgar language, temperature play, degradation, domination/submission, phone sex, mentions of alcohol and drinking, frat boys, smoking (inc. weed)

enjoy these vignettes of straight-up filth

other requests:

sorry no thoughts just edgy karl in a band. in all seriousness though i would kill for a band au with anyone

edgy!karl and like temp play? his tongue piercing got extra cold from the ice in his drink or something and then kisses the readers neck or something and the reader shivers and then he gets ~ideas~

sitting on edgy!karls leg in front of the whole frat, just a normal get together until karl starts bouncing his leg

In honor of me losing my voice for 3 days now, can we have Edgy!Karl reacting to you losing your voice because of him? I've said my piece -🍭

Ahhhhh okay so I had this dream where it was edgy Karl but the reader was riding him while he had his arms crossed behind his head and he was smoking a cigarette and just AHHHH. Can you extend on this pwease? :3 -🐙

mk hear me out, edgy karl. Phone sex ?

do you think that for your edgy! Karl fic we could get some more sub! Karl like he gets so drunk and all he wants to do is please the reader - 🥪

intoxicated seggs with karl (obviously not blackout drunk, fully consensual etc)

You weren’t sure how you ended up where you were, or even how Karl ended up where he was, on stage with a guitar slung over his shoulder as if it were made for him. He had gotten a call earlier in the night from a friend of his whose guitarist came down with the flu, and Karl was the only one he knew who could take over on such short notice.

You weren’t even aware he could play, let alone how good he would look in a torn-up t-shirt, lip ring caught between his teeth as he mindlessly strummed along to the music, sweat pooling at his temples from the lights and the exertion. His eyes always darted to you, looking for your flushed appearance as floods of dark themes flooded into your consciousness.

Girls were practically throwing themselves at him, yet with you in the crowd, his lust-blown pupils marked you as his target. As the set drew on, Karl sipped from a beer like the rest of the band, a cigarette dangling from his lips as clouds of smoke mixed into the air of fog. Finally, a cover song came on, one that you knew well. Its heavy beat served as the background music as memories flooded into your mind from when the song had played for the two in the past...

YOU LET ME VIOLATE YOU / YOU LET ME DESECRATE YOU ... YOU LET ME COMPLICATE YOU

You poured yourself a drink as Karl stood beside you, popping an ice cube in his mouth. It was your roommate’s birthday; nothing but a small gathering with a handful of your friends and some music. “Are you iron deficient, Karl?” You queried sarcastically, a nod to his ice chewing habits and a strange visit from your family members.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I already told your grandmother that I’m fine,” he grumbled, teeth crunching down on the cube as if to demolish the story, making you giggle. He moved to step around you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his tongue ring grazing against your skin. You bit back a moan, body shivering at the feeling and he chuckled against your shoulder. “You like that, baby?” He mocked; voice husky at his realization that such a little action could get you excited so easily.

Later that night, Karl traced a path down your body with an ice cube between his pearly white teeth, grey irises watching your every reaction as he stopped at the hemline of your underpants. He traced a line down the lacy garment as you arched your back before pushing himself up on his arms and pushing the cube into your mouth. “Hold that for me, pet,” he stated, breath hot against your cold, wet skin, begging to be touched. His tongue dragged across your collarbones, the cool of the metal in his mouth making you moan around the ice in your mouth, grinding your hips against his.

As his cold mouth pressed against your inner thighs, you bit down on the cube, shattering it in your mouth as Karl chuckled. “We’re gonna have a fun night,” he promised, cold teeth nipping at your flesh to make you whimper.

I’VE GOT NO SOUL TO SELL … HELP ME GET AWAY FROM MYSELF

The club bathroom was dingy and dimly lit, but the cleanliness was the last thing on your mind as your fingers curled around the skin, Karl’s hand wrapped around your throat as he thrust into you roughly. Your makeup was running down your face from his spit and your sweat. The bass of the music was loud enough that it echoed around in the bathroom, setting Karl’s rhythm to his animalistic paces.

You smiled lazily, bliss covering your fucked out expression as he smirked at you in the reflection of the mirror with pride to see you in such a mess at his antics. His blunt nails dug into your hip, slamming your body against him as he used you like some kind of toy. His hand controlled your breathing, making you gasp for air as you rolled your hips against him, calling out his name loud enough to ricochet around the room.

The next morning, you went to answer Karl’s question about what you wanted for breakfast when your voice came out in barely a whisper. You shut your eyes in embarrassment with a hand closing over your mouth as his eyebrows raised at you. “What was that, baby? Let me hear you,” he mocked, walking over to press his thumb against your throat.

You shook your head, refusing to let him gloat about you losing your voice moaning his name the night before. He kissed you roughly, tongue pressing into your mouth to lap at your weak moans. His teeth dragged across your lips. “I said, I wanna hear you. I wanna be reminded how you lost your voice,” he stated darkly, a smug expression plastered across his face.

I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL / I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE

With the party thundering into the night, you swiveled through the crowd of people grinding on each other, plastic cup in your hand as you returned to where Karl and a few of the other frat brothers were sitting. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you handed him the drink and picked your cards back up.

You’d been playing strip poker with the other guys, who were mainly drunk out of their mind and half-naked anyway. It also helped that Karl would whisper in your ear to guide you into burning and showing the right cards. He once told you about the group of men that taught him how to play during a trip to his father’s favorite country club.

His legs spread a bit more beneath you, shifting you in his lap to sit on his leg. Shamefully, your breath hitched in your chest, a blush spreading to your cheeks as your nails dug into his arm as if to tell you to stop. He tensed slightly before realizing that the only reason you reacted was because the friction was almost a tension reliever for you. You were already riding on your winning streak, but the last thing you could handle was the feeling of his thigh between your legs and in front of all the men drugged out on smoke and hard liquor.

Karl’s lips pressed to the back of your ear, his hand moving to switch a few of your cards around while the other gripped your waist. As you won the next hand, Todd dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him, rolling his eyes playfully before dropping backward and mumbling about taking a nap before he was dealt in again.

You giggled at him, only for Karl to move his thigh, dragging you against him. You peered over your shoulder slightly, glaring at him as if to tell him to cut it out, but he just smirked at you, holding your hips as he bounced his leg. His lips pressed against your shoulder. “Either you get yourself off or I get you off,” he taunted, the friction making you moan quietly.

MY WHOLE EXISTENCE IS FLAWED / YOU GET ME CLOSER TO GOD

Karl turned the radio up, tucking his hands behind his head as you dug into his jacket pocket for his lighter. You had him between your thighs, his fingers dragging up your skirt as you took the joint from behind his ear and brought it to your lips, lighting it and inhaling. Something flashing behind Karl’s eyes as you cracked his window. He grabbed your face before you could exhale, making you shotgun the smoke into his mouth. You moaned at the feeling of the drug seeping into your mind as well as Karl feeding off of your high.

He exhaled before pulling you in for a hungry kiss, moaning against your lips and digging his fingers into your thighs. You pulled away from him, pushing him back against the seat and handing him the joint before unzipping his pants. You dug your teeth into his bottom lip as you sank down on his hardened arousal, moaning at the tightening feeling. He groaned, his hand groping your ass to urge you to ride him.

He pulled away from your kiss, resting the joint between his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head. Your hands pushed into his jacket, sliding beneath his shirt as you rolled your hips against his. You pulled your fingers into your hair, tugging at the strands as one of his hands moved to brush below the hem of your shirt, moving to press his fingers into your back.

He watched you intently, teeth biting into his lower lip to keep himself quiet as you moaned. Euphoria spread across his face to mix with the cloud of smoke from the weed. You kissed him again, his tongue ring pressing into your mouth with a groan as you rode him harder, clawing at the friction and moaning at the feeling of his hands on your body.

YOU CAN HAVE MY ABSENCE OF FAITH / YOU CAN HAVE MY EVERYTHING

“What are you wearing?” Karl asked, voice low and tired from the day of traveling; static from the interference on the phone line giving his tone the feeling of an old recorded message. He’d left earlier in the week, leaving after spending the weekend with you to get back home for his brother’s birthday. He’d nearly kidnapped you from your studies to go with him, but with the impending exams, there was no way you could get away.

You plugged in your headphones, moving to lay on your back as you realized what he was up to. “I’m wearing socks,” you stated sarcastically, making him laugh on the other end of the call. You knew he’d be scrubbed of his alternative appearance while in his mother's house. Your mind wandered to how weird it felt to kiss him without his piercings.

He hummed. “Only socks?” He chippered, playful lust dripping from his words as he spoke. You pressed your fingers against your bottom lip, trying your hardest to remember what it felt like with his teeth biting into your skin.

“I’m wearing your shirt, too,” you added; moving your fingers to toy with the hem of the dark t-shirt. You hadn’t even thought twice when you slipped it on earlier. Only now did you realize how nearly pathetic it was after he’d been trapped in your bed hours prior.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah? You miss me at all?” He chided, making you chew the inside of your cheek. “Come on, tell me how much you miss me, baby.”

You were silent for a moment, his raspy voice sending heat throughout your body. You tried to picture him buried in your hair as he spoke to you, his fingers brushing beneath your clothing in the dark. “I miss you,” you hummed. “It’s cold here alone.” You chewed your lip, you were never good at dirty talk. You could hear your roommate and her group of friends downstairs giggling as they turned on some music, the lyrics drifting through the air vents.

Karl tsked. “I think that’s a lie. I know it’s warm between your legs, dove,” he answered coolly, making your cheeks flush. “Fuck, I want you,” he groaned, your eyes fluttering at his low tone as goosebumps spread across your body.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, your fingers itching to dip beneath the waistband of your underwear.

You could tell he was biting back a smug groan at your quiet plea. “You want me to walk you through touching yourself?” He almost growled. “I wanna hear you cum for me.”

I DRINK THE HONEY / INSIDE YOUR HIVE / YOU ARE THE REASON / I STAY ALIVE

The two of you stumbled into Karl’s room, the sound of music from the party drowning out slightly as he kicked the door shut, pressing his lips against yours as you tugged off his clothes. The back of your legs hit his bed frame, the pair of you tangling together before you rolled on top of him. He pulled your shirt over your head, hands settling on your hips to urge you to grind against him.

The taste of the liquor on his lips sent your head reeling as his cologne and the smell of cigarettes clouded your already muddled senses. Your fingers raked down his tattooed chest, making him groan, his eyes looking up at you submissively.

Whenever Karl was drunk, he always bent to your whim. His dominant mind seemed to flip a switch and all he wanted was to make you feel good. He wanted to be used by you like he always used you.

Heat flushed to your cheeks from the alcohol; you’d beaten Todd in beer pong, again, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have to down a few shots to level the playing field. Your mouth pressed to his again, tugging his pants down his legs before sinking down on him as he moaned deeply.

As you rode him, he moved your hand from off his neck, taking your thumb into his mouth; the metal of his tongue ring swirling against your thumb as his teeth grazed your skin. You moaned at the sight, moving your hand to settle in his hair, tugging his head to the side as your teeth dug into his neck, marking him with your mouth.

He pulled your hips against his, driving himself into you deeper as he thrust against you, making you groan against his skin. You kissed him, driving your tongue into his mouth as you savored his moans of arousal at the feeling of you.

You moved to sit up again, letting the music set your pace as Karl titled his head back in pleasure, teeth tugging his lip ring into his mouth. You clenched around him, just because you knew you could draw him over the edge before you, but his eyes flickered with a willingness to hold out that licked at the fire of determination building your tension.

He sent you a lazy smirk before reaching a thumb between your thighs from where his hands were gripping onto your hips; toying at your nerves and making your vision blur with how good he was making you feel. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, hips rolling against yours. You pressed your mouth to his again, basking in the taste of his words and the liquor that had melted against his tongue; ready the man between your legs to completely ruin you.

Tag List: (follow this link to be added :))

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy @himbobimboeater @karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @twist3dtinkerbell @more-like-reyna @teenage0jealousy @deepestofwaters @honk-izzie-was-taken @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @instabull

Chances Are Masterlist

#edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs my beloved #karl jacobs imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt headcanons #mcyt x you #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #karl jacobs x you #🐙 anon #🍭 anon #🥪 anon

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fairestwriting · 3 years ago

Note

Could you please do the dorm leaders with a s/o who smokes weed alot??? like what would they think, would they try it?? only if your comfortible with it ofc!! thank you :)

blaze it

im not sure how seriously im taking this rq myself but i thought it was a fun one. thinking about weed and nrc is just hysterical to me?? i have the sense of humor of a 14 year old

Riddle Rosehearts

You saw that coming, but... yeah, Riddle isn't really a fan of it. When he finds out about your habit, he's actually horrified, anything he knows about weed probably came straight from those anti-drug PSAs they show you in middle school.

So, first of all, you'll have to reassure him you don't have some sort of horrible life threatening addiction, then explain why you do it so often in lots of details... Riddle is just worried, really, he doesn't want his s/o falling into any sort of self destruction, and while smoking weed isn't the pinnacle of health, the image he has of it is very exaggerated.

If you manage to get him to stop panicking, he'll leave you to your own devices, though he'll nag you every now and then about the smell on your clothes, and god forbid you go to class high... and this goes without saying but, no, he's not likely at all to try it.

Leona Kingscholar

...has probably tried weed at least once? Savanaclaw is just a sort of place where things like these kind of happen. A lot of students have a bit of a hedonistic streak, so it's just bound to happen that a blunt would end up on Leona's hand one day.

He doesn't really mind, as long as it isn't really causing you any problems. He's not like Riddle who only knows the weed is evil stereotypes, so he's just sort of okay with you doing your own thing. He wouldn't want to control his partner, anyway.

Maybe he joins in on the fun every now and then. It feels nice and relaxing, he definitely sees the appeal in it, but he really doesn't like the smell, so he's probably not going to do that very often.

Azul Ashengrotto

I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me the school's weed man isn't in Octavinelle. I dare you to. See, you can't.

Yeah, he knows who provides weed and other "related products" to Night Raven students, but he has never really dabbled on the thing himself. He's heard about it feeling good and having medical proprieties, but it never really interested him.

Azul is a bit concerned with you smoking so often, but as long as you're being somewhat smart about it and, again, not showing up at class high as a kite, he's fine with it. To each their own.

Maybe he'll try it one day. He's got a bit of a fear of doing anything stupid when under the influence so he doesn't go for things like that usually, but if it's the two of you hanging out in your room, he'll take a drag or two.

Kalim Al-Asim

You'd think Kalim doesn't even know what a weed is... but no, he's definitely tried it before. More than once, in fact -- In a situation similar to Azul's, Scarabia also has a weed man, who is in fact the Octavinelle weed man's rival.

He thinks it's fun! It's a nice way to ensure some relaxed bonding between friends, so you might wanna roll two joints instead of your usual one next time he's coming over to your room. Kalim would feel honored if you presented it to him.

He's not very worried about your habit, actually, unless it turns into some really serious overindulgence that starts damaging other aspects of your life. If that's the case, he'll try to stage some sort of intervention... by asking for Jamil's help, of course, which may not end very well for you and your stash.

Vil Schoenheit

Oh, it bothers him so much. Not enough that it'll warrant him breaking up with you, probably, but he cringes everytime he sees your eyes are bloodshot.

It's mostly because you get all goofy and you smell bad, but also because of all the negative effects that smoking might have on your health... be prepared to get Vil lectures pretty much everyday.

He wants to trust you to be mature enough to not overindulge to the point of ruining your life with it, but Vil is Vil, and he's got that controlling streak. He somewhat keeps track of how often you've been smoking, and sets a sort of limit to it, scolding you if you go over it, citing all the downsides over and over again.

...honestly, at this point, just switch to doing edibles when you're alone. It'll make both of your lives easier. And no, he's not trying it. Don't you even suggest that.

Idia Shroud

Has made all sorts of 420 jokes on the internet but the first time you pull out a joint/blunt/bong in front of him is the first time he sees one. He's all wide eyed, like, oh Great Seven is that real weed.

Again, he's an internet person, and he's got a rather curious nature, so he probably went down a research rabbit hole about weed one night, possibly about other drugs as well, so he's not exactly uneducated on it, he's mostly just surprised to see the real thing.

Idia asks you a lot of questions about it, he wants to know if it really is as good as people online say it is? And if you're willing to share with him, he's willing to try it for a bit. If the chemicals do well with him and settle his nerves instead of making them worse, he might actually join you every now and then.

Malleus Draconia

...Child of Man, what are these "weeds" you speak of?

Malleus is pretty clueless. He's grown up around royalty and doesn't interact with other students often, so it's unlikely he knows a whole lot about weed. You'll have to give him a crash course.

If you educate him on it nicely, he won't really mind, though he's also the type to not be a fan of the smell, either. He might suggest you switch to edibles once he... knows what these are.

He's very curious about what it feels like, what you like about it, those sorts of things. Will definitely ask to try it, just in a controlled environment, because he sees how silly it makes you act sometimes. And you'll have to teach him the mechanics of smoking weed, too.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

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maddiwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Beauty is Pain

Pairing: Mostly Platonic!Pogues, mentions of JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You and Kie try to wax your legs yourselves for the first time and accidentally get yourselves trapped in a sticky situation that gets you locked in your room with JJ and Pope while you listen to Sarah and John B fight outside your door. Routledge!Reader.

Note: I got this idea from a Friends episode. If you watched the show, you’ll know exactly which one I’m talking about. Mostly wrote this without the intention of doing a JJ x reader pairing but then I got an idea(: Hope y'all like it!

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning: Language, maybe angst??

For her birthday, Kie was gifted a hard waxing kit. At first you thought it was odd, a Kook like her was better off going to a professional to get evenly waxed brows or a perfectly clear bikini line. But when she asked you to try it out with her, you were intrigued.

You invited her over to your messy home everyone calls the Chateau. Your brother had a date with his Kook girlfriend, Sarah Cameron, which meant you had the house all to yourself. Even though it was just Kie, your best friend of four years, you decided to clean up the place before she got there. Your house was littered in empty beer cans and ends of JJ’s rolled blunts. You noticed John B was drinking more, smoking JJ’s weed, and even sleeping in later than usual. He’s called out of work two times in the past two weeks, and if he does manage to a say hello to you, it’s a grumbled mumble of words you can barely understand. You chopped it up to him just being moody, but there was also a small part of you that wondered if something serious was going on you didn’t know about.

You tried questioning your friends about it. Kie said she had no clue but noticed his change of attitude too. Pope would get nervous when you brought up John B’s name and claimed he didn’t know what you were talking about. Before you could question him further, his dad whisked him away to clean up the store and run a couple of last minute groceries. JJ, your boyfriend, tried to tell you it was probably nothing, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with you when he talked. He busied himself with rolling another blunt or folding the tossed laundry on your bedroom floor. When you called him out on it, he got snippy and frustrated, which just led you to drop the topic because you didn’t feel like dealing with a second moody teenager.

Kie showed up right when she said she would with the boxed waxing kit in her hand. You raised one brow up at it as you tossed the filled trash bag out the door.

“This it?” You said.

“Yes. You haven’t shaved your legs in a while, right?”

“Yeah. It’s been two weeks like you said. JJ says my legs are looking hairier than his. He’ll barely even touch them. One time he called them monkey legs.”

Kie rolled her eyes. “Boys are such hypocrites. If they had to do half the stuff we did, they wouldn’t be complaining at all. They shouldn’t even get to complain about what women decide to do with their bodies.”

Kie continued ranting about how pain is beauty and men will never understand it unless they lived in a woman’s body for a whole month, including the week a woman’s period started, as she set up the kit.

You worked in your room because there was more space for both of you to try your best to be comfortable. Kie plugged in the warmer on your nightstand and mixed the pink wax pellets with a flat wooden stick until it turned to a warm goo.

“Okay,” Kie sat up against your bed’s headboard and patted her thigh to motion for you to give her your leg. “You’re up.”

“Why do I have to be first?” You asked.

You’ve never waxed your legs before. Only your brows and sometimes bikini line and even then, you usually just pluck and shave. Getting your hair professionally waxed was expensive and you tried to prioritize your purchases as much as possible to stabilize the life you and John B still had.

Kie sighed. “Fine, we’ll do it together. Let me just put the wax on you.”

You gave Kie your left leg and she slathered the warm wax up the left side of your shin. You watched as she did the same to her own leg and grimaced nervously when you felt the wax hardening against your skin.

“Ready?” She asked with a teasing smirk.

“On the count of three?”

Kie nodded. “One.”

“Two.” “Three.”

At exactly three, Kie pulled the long waxing strip from your leg and you did the same with hers. A searing hot pain ran up you leg as Kie ripped the wax off, making you bite down a scream.

“Fuck!” Kie screamed up into the ceiling. You looked down at both your legs. There was a thick line of red from where the wax was. “That shit hurts.”

“Let’s try it again,” You suggested. “Maybe we’ll get use to it if we keep doing it.”

Kie nodded. “Okay. Yeah, let’s try again.”

This time, Kie slid two long strips on both your left and right leg. The warm wax felt soothing. You almost wished you didn’t have to rip it off in the first place.

“On three?” You said.

Kie nodded.

On three, you each ripped one strip off your own legs. You cursed against gritted teeth from the pain. You were wrong about getting used to it. You didn’t think you would ever be able to tolerate this pain.

“What the hell? This has never hurt this bad.” Kie said.

“I think whoever gave this to you secretly hates you,” You said to her.

Kie sighed and looked down at the hardening wax still left on your legs. “Well, we have to finish. We’ll just rip them all off really fast.”

“Okay.”

You ripped three out of the four strips that were left at rocket speed, but they all hurt exactly the same. It felt like you were ripping more than just the hair off your leg. You wouldn’t be surprised if you looked down and saw half the layers of your skin ripped off.

You blinked back the tears at the exact same time Pope and JJ busted into your room looking around frantically. JJ was holding a baseball bat and Pope a pan you just washed and placed on the drying wrack an hour ago.

“What’s wrong?” Pope yelled.

“What the hell is going on?” JJ narrowed his eyes at you, surprised he wasn’t looking at you being attacked by an intruder or covered in cuts and bruises. When he first heard you screaming when he and Pope walked into your house, his heart raced a million beats per minutes. His mind wandered to all the different things that could have happened to you. He swore he was going to make you lock your door every day and night now.

But here you were, safe and sound and laying in bed with Kie. Although he could see your labored breathing and clouded eyes, he knew you weren’t in any imminent trouble. His eyes traced from your face down to your legs where a pink strip of wax was still waiting to be pulled off.

“We’re fine. We’re just waxing our legs.” Kie said.

“What are you doing here?” You asked your boyfriend.

“Pope said Kie was here so we came to hang with you,” JJ said absentmindedly. “I thought you were being murdered.”

“It sure felt like it,” You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered from JJ’s protective side.

JJ scoffed. “It can’t hurt that bad.”

Kie tutted her head forward. “Oh yeah? Come here.”

“What? No.”

Kie ignored him and grabbed his arm from across your body and slapped on another slab of wax. JJ hissed from the heat then visibly relaxed.

“Y/N, wanna do the honors?” Kie smirked at you.

You glared at her. “I’m not volunteering to hurt my boyfriend.”

Kie scoffed at you. “What did he call your legs again?”

You clenched your teeth together and nodded once. Kie made her point, and you remembered everything she said about how men will never understand the pain women go through to please not only themselves, but their lovers too.

“Oh, yeah,” You said within a split second and ripped the wax off JJ’s arms. He flinched away from you, rearing his arm back far away from your reach. His mouth was opened in an ‘O’ shape and his brows pinched together. “Monkey legs.” You smirked at him.

“Fuck,” JJ shook out his arm as if you physically lit it on fire.

“It can’t hurt that bad, right, JJ?” Kie mocked him.

Pope laughed at his blonde friend and shook his head. “Stupid.”

“Y/N, you have one left.”

“Shut up, I know,” You rolled your shoulders back like you were getting ready to run a marathon.

“Want me to do it for you?” You nodded. JJ came up next to you and offered his hand for you to squeeze. “Okay. On three. One, two -” Before Kie even said the word three, she ripped the wax off. You closed your eyes and squeezed JJ’s hand hard, until his knuckles rolled in your closed fingers.

“Shit, baby,” JJ crouched next to you awkwardly, trying to mend his fingers back together.

“Sorry,” You huffed. You weren’t that sorry. He called you monkey legs.

You heard the screen door open and close. Figuring it was just John B back from his date, you relaxed against your headboard again and made a promise to yourself to never wax your legs again. Beauty wasn’t worth this pain. You’d rather be monkey legs than go through that again.

Or just simply shave.

“ - And that’s supposed to make this all okay?” Your eyes opened when you heard, not JB, but Sarah Cameron screaming right outside your room. Pope quickly closed your bedroom door as quietly as possible and held up his finger to you and Kie to be quiet. “That’s your excuse?”

Your brows pinched together in confusion and you looked at your boyfriend for some kind of answer. This was the first time you ever heard Sarah raise her voice at your brother. As far as you knew, the couple never fought.

JJ was looking down at the ground and avoiding your stare. His hands were wracked through his blonde strands and resting on the top of his head. He and Pope didn’t look as surprised as you and Kie.

“What the hell is going on?” Kie asked in a hushed whisper.

“I - I was scared. I’ve never done this before -” John B stuttered.

“Here’s some advice. Rule number one. Don’t cheat!” Sarah yelled. You swore you could hear the pain behind her voice.

You gasped in surprise and snapped your head in JJ’s direction. He wouldn’t look at you, which mean he knew about this long before you did. You put the pieces together. No wonder John B has been acting miserable. Who knows how long he’s been holding onto this.

Well...apparently JJ and Pope know.

“What the hell...” Kie sits up straighter. “Is she serious?”

“Did you know?” You asked your boyfriend. This time he did look at you. And he looked guilty as hell.

Your eyes snapped back to the door when John B yelled back at her. “That’s gold coming from you. Did Topper use that same line when you got together with me?”

You physically cringed at the mention of Topper’s name. It may have been a low blow, but John B had a point.

“Shit,” Kie cursed and sped walked towards the door.

You followed in her footsteps and pressed your ear against the door. One thing was for sure, you couldn’t leave your room now. You couldn’t walk in on that. But at least you could be nosy and eavesdrop.

“That’s not fair. I didn’t love him. I loved you. I left Topper for you!”

“You cheated on him.”

“Because I loved you, John B! You cheated on me because you were scared because...why? Because I’m a Kook? I’ve always been a Kook and you’ve never had a problem with that! Not until now!”

You and Kie crouched on the floor so JJ and Pope could hover over you and listen. It sounded like John B cheated on Sarah a couple weeks ago with a Pogue from your school because he got scared of his feelings for Sarah. Rafe got in your brother’s head, telling him how he will never be enough to care for Sarah when she’s no longer reliant on her father’s money. He became insecure and looked to someone who wouldn’t ever think of him like that - someone who would understand him.

John B was in the wrong and your heart cracked for the couple you once swore was going to be the first to get married out of your group of friends. Although you and Sarah had a rocky start, she quickly became the sister you never had. You got along just as much as you and Kie did. Sometimes John B would find it annoying when Sarah would come over to hang out with you instead of him, but the other part of him loved that the two most important people in his life were as close as he was with JJ. You couldn’t imagine him with anyone else. Not even another Pogue.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Sarah asked. She sounded broken and her voice cracked with exhaustion. You wanted to walk out of the room and hug her tightly while yelling at John B for being an absolute idiot.

You heard John B sigh. “I was going to. I regretted it the second it was over and I was afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to leave me over some stupid mistake. JJ and Pope said -”

“JJ and Pope knew about this?”

You and Kie looked up at your boyfriends with the deadliest glare either of them have seen out of both you. JJ took a step back and held his hands up in surrender as if you were holding a loaded gun to his head.

“I can explain -” JJ said quickly as Pope’s mouth moved silently to come up with an excuse.

“I didn’t know what to do! They said telling you would only hurt you -” John B weakly tried to explain.

“Of course it would fucking hurt me! You’ve been lying to me for weeks. You had sex with another girl!”

You heard something shatter before a deafening silence. You waited for John B to say something, praying he was smart enough to say anything that could salvage what little of a relationship he had left.

You didn’t want to make this about you, but you wondered how many times JJ didn’t tell you something because it would hurt you. You wondered if he did anything just as detrimental to your relationship and didn’t tell you because he was afraid you would break up with him.

John B and Sarah continued to fight for another hour. You wondered if John B was worried about where you might be. If you go somewhere without telling John B, you usually text him later in the day to tell him where you are. It’s something both of you started doing ever since your father disappeared. So that if something were to happen, you would know where to look first.

You thought about jumping out your window, but your window frame was rusty. Even if you moved the window up a little bit, the wood would grind against each other, and your cover would be blown. You were getting hungry and JJ was getting antsy, probably afraid that John B would say something more to push him in the dog house. You’ve barely looked at him since John B threw him under the bus.

“Baby...” JJ said quietly to try to get your attention. “Come on, baby, let me explain.”

You glared at him and continued braiding Kie’s hair with your back to the door.

“We had good intentions,” Pope tried to save his own ass but Kie’s look mirrored yours. “We just didn’t want them to break up.”

“Shut up, Pope,” You said for Kie.

“We were wrong,” JJ said, making you advert your attention from Pope to your boyfriend. “I was wrong. It was my idea for John B not to tell Sarah. But the more time I spent with you, I knew I’d never be able to do that to you. It would eat at me inside, and that’s exactly what it was doing to JB. So yesterday I told him he had to tell her. Or else he would hate himself for the rest of his life if he didn’t.” Your eyes soften under his ocean blue ones and your hands fell from Kie’s hair. “I know I would.”

The corner of your lip twitched up into a lopsided grin, and just like that, you were entranced by the blonde Pogue all over again. JJ had his way with words. It’s gotten him both into certain situations and out of other bad ones. But you knew JJ like the back of your hand. You knew when he was lying. He wouldn’t look at you and if you questioned him on it he would get angry. Looking at JJ, you knew he was telling the truth.

“Yeah, what he said.” Pope said, pointing at your boyfriend.

You and Kie rolled your eyes playfully. Pope, on the other hand, wasn’t so great with his words. That’s why it took so long for him to score Kie as his girlfriend.

“Where are you going?” You heard John B yell. He sounded defeated.

“I can’t be here. I need...I need space.”

“Sarah...”

“Please. I just need time to think. Okay?”

Your front door slammed shut and you held your breath, waiting for John B to run after her or break more shit in your living room. But nothing like that ever came. Instead, you listened to John B cry to himself probably somewhere on the couch.

And just like that, you didn’t care about being caught. You didn’t care if he screamed in your face for eavesdropping or calling you nosy and inconsiderate. Your brother needed you, and in that moment, it didn’t matter to you that he was the one in the wrong. At the end of the day, he was your brother. Your blood. Your family. And you’re the one who will always be his rock.

Kie stood up with you and watched wearily as you showed yourself to your brother. John B looked up with wide eyes, surprised to see not only you but the rest of the Pogues hidden away in your room.

He wanted to be mad, but he didn’t have the energy to be. Instead, he cried harder because he hated that you of all people knew what he did and that he was now being weak by crying about it in your living room. He wanted to be the role model you could always look up to, especially now that your dad was gone. And he thought he failed at it.

John B was pleasantly surprised when he felt a pair of gentle arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him into a side hug as you sat on the couch next to him. Kie sat on the coffee table in front of you and rubbed John B’s knee comfortingly. Pope and JJ knew the girls were better equipped to handle John B’s emotions, so they busied themselves in the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers and pretzels and setting them down on the table next to Kie.

Even though John B cheated and created a big mess in not only his life, but the rest of yours too, you were family. You would never leave him on his darkest day and play the blame game. You’ll help him get control. You’ll help him fix it. You’ll help him live his life to the fullest. And that’s what John B loved about you. You never turned your back on him, even when he deserved it.

The five of you spent the rest of the night drinking beer, ordering pizza, and watching comedy movies to get him to forget. Later in the night, you and Kie left to comfort Sarah. You admitted that you two heard the whole thing and would support her with whatever she chose to do about her relationship. You and Kie slept over her house and discussed the pros and cons of her staying with John B. You ate popcorn and applied face masks while Keeping Up With The Kardashians played in the background.

“You know, Kie’s waxing kit is still at my house,” A mischievous smirk pulled at your lips. “We could cause a lot of damage while he sleeps.”

Kie encouraged the idea and Sarah laughed, feeling grateful that the two of you would even come to see her when you both had loyalties to John B. She really did love you guys and would be devastated if her relationship with John B drove you guys apart.

In the end, Sarah ended up taking John B back. It took a while for them to get their relationship back to the way it was, but they loved each other enough to salvage it. John B worked his ass off to prove how much he loved her and Sarah appreciated every second of it.

And as for you and JJ...well you made sure to give him one really good reason as to why he should never cheat on you (;

#jj maybank fic #jj fic #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #john b #kie carrera #pope heyward #pogues x reader #pogues #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot

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mrsmaybank · 4 years ago

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Tate Langdon x Reader 18+

“Daddy?” Tate playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?”

A/N: In honor of me rewatching Murder House, here’s some absolutely disgusting dead people sex. I know Tate is a horrible person, but he’s incredibly sexy. Sorry. He could kill me. LOL GIRL ANYWAYS SOOOOO... Also, does anybody know where I can find more stories like this? I could literally only find like two good ones. I barely write smut and I didn’t reread this so if it sucks, well my bad. Anyways, I hope you guys like!

TW: SMUT VERY VERY NSFW, DADDY KINK, HEAVY DEGRADATION, DEAD PEOPLE?, DRUGS, SPITTING KINK?? LITERALLY EVERYTHING, DON’T READ IT IF YOU’RE NOT INTO THIS KINDA STUFF!

TATES POV

“Only reason I haven’t killed her yet is so I can jack off to her while she showers.” I smiled as Y/N walked through the front door and up to her room. I was kidding of course. There was many things I wanted to do to her and murder her was not one.

“You’re a sick little fuck.” Hayden scoffed and walked away.

“You’re a whore. With daddy issues. Fucked an old married guy.” I whispered to myself. The house was “empty” now. Just me and Y/N. She was the only living soul there. Her parents were out, doing what I could care less.

I followed Y/N up to her room. She was sitting on the floor behind her bed, perched on the window sill, shoving pinches of grinded weed into a bowl. Her hair was a mess per usual. A wild but perfect mess of hair. I wondered if the ‘I-just-got-fucked’ look was on purpose, or she was naturally disheveled. She took off her sweater and grabbed a lighter from her purse, leaving her in a tiny black tank-top that left just the perfect amount to the imagination. Good god. Her tits looked sculpted by Satan himself, tasked to taint the minds of all thy tempted. I did my best to take a mental note of the sight. Her perfect lips attaching to the pipe, her chest rising and lowering with every inhale and exhale of smoke. “Fuck.” I sighed.

She twitched. Fuck she heard. I wasn’t paying attention to whether or not I was allowing her to hear me. She laughed to herself. “Fuck, I’m tweaked.” She plopped herself on the bed, my bed. And played a song on her laptop. It wasn’t music I was familiar with. It was probably new, but it was good. Very good actually. I confirmed she had good music taste when she hung up a poster of Kurt Cobain in her closet. I’d also heard her tell her friends she couldn’t wait to go to hell to fuck him. Her family was devout catholic. It’s weird though--it seems she believes everything the church says. However, the amount of disgusting things I witness that girl do on a daily basis leads me to believe she gets a kick outta being a sinner. She’s a pothead, once coke-whore, communist, cocksucking, intrepid, audacious bitch and yet--she’s beautiful and clever and kind to those who deserve it. I like her very much. I watched with wide eyes as her hand moved to her perfect tit, grabbing it harshly and massaging it until a tiny moan made its way out of her mouth. I wanted nothing more than to stop her, punish her for being a little slut and take her in every way I wanted, but obviously I could not. She slid her hand into her pants, moaning at the sensation of her own fingers. Jesus fuck.

I walked to her door. Opened it. Stood on the other side, closed it, appeared and knocked. “Dad?” she practically screamed. Not quite.

“No,” I laughed, opening the door to let myself in, “Neighbor.” I pretended to look surprised at her messy hair and big eyes.

“Did I interrupt something?” I questioned.

“No.” she said firmly. “But you’re not my neighbor.”

“Yes I am. I live in the house behind you. Makes you my neighbor.”

“How’d you get in?” She was scared, but not surprised.

“Someone left the back door open.” I bumped my head to the guitar of the song.

“This is great. Whose the artist?”

“Uh, Arctic Monkeys.” I laughed, “What a weird name. They’re good though.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“Yeah. What’s your name? I’m Tate.”

“Y/N.”

I got closer to the bed where she sat. Looking down at her as she looked up to me with doe eyes. “Y/N,” I tucked a hair behind her ear, “Are you--”

She grabbed my face and stuck her tongue down my throat. Horny little bitch. I pulled her hair back and detached her face, she needed to be put in her place. “God fuck Y/N.” She laughed and I laid her down on the bed, crawling on top of her. I smiled at her as she tugged on my shirt. “You’re such a bad girl. You’re really, really bad.” I kissed her this time, it was passionate and she would not stop tugging on the hem of my long-sleeve. I stopped for a second, panting. I went to kiss her lips again, but I changed my mind. I kissed her jaw instead, leaving sloppy kisses down her neck as she whimpered and mumbled. I was so busy with marking her neck I didn’t notice her hand slide down to grip me, that is, until I did. I moaned into the kiss, until she pulled away to whisper in my ear. “Fuck me daddy.” She smiled devilishly back at me.

“Daddy?” I playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Now fuck me.” This time it was my turn to laugh, “No.” I pushed her back down and continued to kiss her. Exploring her mouth as I pleased until I pleased. I got up, dramatically taking off her pants to reveal the cutest, daintiest, black little panties.

“These are adorable.” I played with the hem, “Absolutely adorable.” She whimpered in desperation, “Please. Do something already.”

I traced my fingers lightly on her clothed cunt, noting the wetness that had gathered. I removed her tank top to reveal her bare tits, and god, how great it was to finally touch them. I made my way up her body, kissing up her stomach until I got to the place I wanted to be. I took one in my mouth and the other in my hand as she writhed under me in pleasure. Moaning and panting all ‘cause of me. It was cute. While my mouth continued it’s assault on her literally godly boob, I used the other hand to dip into her--soaking--pussy. “Fuuuckkk.” she threw her head back in ecstasy.

“You’re dripping like you’ve never been touched.” I told her. She only continued to whimper in response. I made her cum twice before I was so hard I thought I might finish before even getting inside.

I kissed her lovingly, her lips were swollen and there were tears in her eyes. “Is it too much baby?” I teased her clit before she could respond, she twitched but then to my surprise gained her senses. “Fuck me. Now.”

“Okay.” I aligned and entered. “Jesus christ.” I could barely speak. “You’re so,” I thrusted hard, “Fuck!”, I went deeper, “Tight.” I wanted, I swear to god I tried to be gentle at first, but between the absolute desire I had for this girls perfect body, the sound of her cute little whimpers and curses, the ripping my hair out, the fucking tightness of her pussy--I couldn’t. I rammed into that girl over and over, harder every time. She was purring like a little kitten, tightening around me every time I called her a little slut. She opened her mouth, practically an invitation for me to spit in it.

I slowed to a stop, my dick still completely inside her. She was a mess of course, a needy little mess that needed me to keep going, “Hey,” I calmed her down, “Hey.” I used a hand to gently caress her forehead. “Open your mouth.” She opened wide and I spat. Right in her mouth. She swallowed it.

I bottomed out and thrusted back into her and she screamed. “You needed to swallow something didn’t you?” She tightened and whimpered, “Hm?”, she clenched again moaning, but I wanted an answer. “Whore?” I shouted, fucking into her with literally every bone in my body.

“Yes, yes, please. I’m gonna--” That’s when my evolutionary senses took over and I felt the overwhelming need to fucking nut as deep in her as possible. I pushed into her deeper, feeling her walls spasm around me, “You want me to cum don’t you? Your pussy wants it. It’s practically milking my--” She clenched a final time and I fell into the ecstasy of orgasm. I fucked it into her a while, she came again. And all I could do was giggle to myself as I laid on her bare chest. Her painted black nails scratched at my scalp.

“Hey, Y/N? I’m dead.”

“Hey Tate? Me too.”

I got up to look her in the eyes, she was serious, and I was confused. As fuck.

#tate langdon #american horror story #ahs #tatelangdonim #evan peters #evan peters imagine #evan peters smut #evan peters fluff #tate langdon imagine #tatelangdonsmut #tate langdon x reader #american horror story imagine #ahsimagine #tatelangdon angst

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alittlebitmaybe · 4 years ago

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comme un écho

AKA whoops i talked to @yoursummerfrost about orpheus and eurydice and then tripped and fell on this very weird ficlet that is only sort of what i meant it to be. uh oh. (title lifted from “it’s never over (oh orpheus)” by arcade fire because i’m incredibly literal sometimes)

warnings: off-screen major character death

The mage had told him to perform the ritual in a field of wildflowers.

“Plenty of life,” she said.

Jaskier had asked, “For what?”

“To feed it,” she said, and did not elaborate.

And as he follows her instructions, surrounded by blooming weeds and swaying grasses, he sees that she was right. As the herbs and other unmentionables in the bowl burn, scorching the wooden sides, the green around him darkens to black. He feels the magic tugging at his energy and resists it. The ruin spreads from his epicenter, cursing the very dirt on which he kneels. A slow but inexorable exchange, and Jaskier thinks it fair. Geralt had watered the earth with his blood and now the earth must give back.

“You’re out of your depth, bard,” the mage had said as he turned to leave, her lips pursed. Was she amused or disapproving? Jaskier didn’t care, nor, he suspected, did she. Her pockets were full, and his own empty.

He hefted the lute higher on his back, clutched at the strap across his chest.

“And yet,” he said.

“He will not come easily,” she said.

“He never did,” Jaskier replied.

The flame in the bowl burns out with a flare of noxious smoke that stings Jaskier’s eyes, makes him cough. The world hums. It’s a tune of his own, as of yet unsung, plucked from his consciousness. It reaches out to him and burrows under his skin. Pulling. He follows it.

Between two gnarled, ancient trees, in the arch of their overlapping branches (Which belongs to which? Where does one stop and the other begin? If one was broken, would the other suffer for it?) the air shimmers.

The tune fades and in its place is a whisper saying, Come.

The stairs spiral downward for hours, days. Jaskier’s legs do not ache and he does not hunger, but it is ever so quiet. He takes the lute from his back and plays every song he’s ever composed in Geralt’s honor. Maybe Geralt can hear them. Maybe he will know Jaskier is on his way.

“Get ready, Witcher,” Jaskier says to the darkness. “Gather your underworldly things. You won’t be coming back any time soon. I can promise you that.”

And he says, “I’m sorry that you were alone. I’m sorry that I was too late.”

And he says, when the darkness presses upon him, when it seems the stairs will never end, “I don’t know when I began to love you, but it has been long enough that I don’t know how not to.”

And he says, “I’ve done this for you. You deserve to have a better life. You deserve to live.”

And he takes one more step and trips, for there is no stair where he expected there to be one. He taps the toe of his boot against the ground. It’s solid. He lifts his hand in front of his own face and it is invisible. There is no breeze, no sound, no smells, no light. There’s nothing down here.

In the face of such vastness, Jaskier is insignificant. He is nothing. You are nothing. You are less than a flea clinging to the fur of a great beast. You will be mine. You will become a part of me. You will cease. You will be forgotten.

“Hold on now,” Jaskier says, head whipping around. “Who’s there?”

I am everything that has been. I await everything that is. I anticipate what will be. I am.

“You’re Death,” Jaskier realizes, perhaps belatedly.

There is no such thing. I have no name. I have no need of it.

“That’s okay,” Jaskier says. “I don’t give a rat’s arse who or what you are.” His heart thumps arrhythmically, and sweat drips from his brow. He swipes it off on his sleeve. He is far under water. His lungs fill. He ignores it, swallows. Throws back his shoulders. “I’m here for Geralt of Rivia.”

There is no Geralt of Rivia.

“Bullshit.”

You are insolent.

“I’ve been told.”

You will be mine.

“Perhaps.” Jaskier licks his lips, an unbreakable habit. “But I will live on.”

You will not.

He laughs a little, despite himself, a nervous little giggle that he stifles as quickly as he can, clearing his throat. “On the contrary, I am an artist. I shan’t die as long as my art lives. And art does not die.”

Art? Art is not living. I have no use of it.

“Exactly,” he says. “Yes, precisely. It does not live or die. It simply is. Whatever you—whatever you are, being of, ah, all-ness…or what have you—whatever you are, whatever comprises you, you have none of art. You have no music, no stories, none at all. You will always lack it.”

There is a thoughtful pause.

I desire it.

“I can give it to you. Did you hear? I played my whole way down.”

I heard.

“Did you enjoy it? Three words or less.”

It was pleasing.

Jaskier exhales. “That’s actually a decent review, as these things go. I’m glad. I mean, would you like more? I could write you a song. Got a decent hand at improv, me. Won’t take a moment.”

A song. For me?

“Yes,” Jaskier promises, feeling the weight of it as it passes over his tongue, “a song, only for you. I shall never play it again. Well, um, on one condition.”

You want Geralt of Rivia.

“Oh, you were paying attention. Smart one, you are, Your…um, Majesty.”

I can retrieve him. If I am careful. He is me. I am him.

“Truly, I understand. His loss, for me, was…” Jaskier struggles for adequate words. “Irreconcilable. But you will always have the memory of your song to take his place.”

You sang of him.

“I do. Rather habitually. Every day of my life, in fact.”

Hmm.

“You sound like him already. So, whaddaya say?”

Play for me.

He plays, and every note that vibrates out from his lute, every note that leaves his mouth disappears from his mind. It is absorbed from him upon conception. He doesn’t know what the last measure was, nor what the next will be. He does not know what key or time signature his song is in, but he knows it’s a song. And that is all he promised.

It ends, and Jaskier does not notice. Possibly his jaw hangs open stupidly for minutes after it is over. He closes it.

“Was, um, was that…”

Yes. I will give you your reward.

“You will?” Jaskier asks, surprised despite himself.

I will release Geralt of Rivia, for you have given me something in return. And I will regain him, as I will gain you. We will meet again, bard.

“I—How do—”

You will walk forward. You will ascend, and he will follow. Until he emerges above, he is still a part of me. You may not look upon him, as you may not look upon me. You must not look back.

“How will I know he is there?”

He will follow.

“How will I know it is him?”

You must have faith.

“How—” Jaskier chokes now, tears welling up. He is glad no one can see. “Will he be—himself?”

Entirely. Once he emerges.

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispers.

It is time. Walk forward. In three paces, you shall begin to ascend. Be well, bard.

Jaskier climbs. The stairs remember his tread, the shape of his feet. It’s easy.

There are footsteps behind him. Are they Geralt’s? Do they match the way he shifts his weight, the deliberate heel-toe steps that Jaskier has been hearing for decades? He’s not sure.

Jaskier is afraid. More afraid than ever before. There could be anything back there. Anything at all. He must not look.

But he is not forbidden to talk.

“Geralt?” he says, tentatively. “Geralt, is that you?”

A grunt. “It’s me, Jaskier.”

And it is, thank the gods, it is. “Sounds like you,” he says, voice carefully measured, lest he sob in relief.

Silence. Four, five more stairs. They will not end. When will they end?

“How’ve you been, Witcher? It’s good to hear you again, my friend.”

“Where are we?”

“Well, who’s to say,” Jaskier says lightly. “Tell me, what do you last remember?”

“Bleeding out in a forest. I couldn’t get up. I waited to die. I…died. I died, didn’t I, Jaskier?”

Jaskier chooses to take that as rhetorical, and does not answer.

“Anything else?”

“Not until now. Is this a dream?”

“To my knowledge, no, Geralt, it is not. I pray that this is not a dream.”

“Then where—?”

Jaskier picks up his foot, sets it down. One stair at a time. There have been hundreds, there will be more. Is that light above? No, a trick of his eyes. He is still blind.

“Not to worry. We’ll soon be outside. It’s a beautiful day, you know. Big blue sky. Everything in bloom. Your favorite time of the year. We’ll have to do some foraging, stock up for potions. I have your things, of course, but I don’t know the shelf life of your concoctions.”

“A quarter year.”

“Ah, might have to make fresh, then.”

But no, it is growing brighter. Jaskier can see the faint silhouettes of his hands, the edges of the stairs to come. If he were to turn back he might be able to see the gleam of Geralt’s eyes, but he mustn’t.

Why mustn’t he? Oh, yes, the warning. He—can’t look back. He must not—

“Jaskier,” Geralt says again. “I’m dead.”

“You are, Geralt, yes, is that what you would like to hear?” Jaskier says, a little hysterically. “But you won’t be for much longer, if we just keep going.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Where? Where?” His pitch climbs with the staircase. Around and around. Dizzying. So many circles. “Above, Geralt. Back home, of course.”

“Why?”

Jaskier has to stop himself from whirling around. “Good gods, you ask me why? I follow you for decades, I immortalize you in song, and the witcher asks me why.” He draws in a great lungful of air, releases it. “I love you, you great idiot. I have loved you.”

The response comes, so softly, a mere rumble, “I know. That’s why I asked.”

The stairs are made of warped stone. He can see that now. They are well worn, dipping in the centers. It can’t be far. “Please, Geralt, we’re almost there.”

“You haven’t answered me. Why you would do this.”

“I was supposed to let you rot, huh? I was meant to live on as if it was fine? As if nothing was missing?”

“Yes,” says Geralt. “You didn’t ask me if I wanted to come back.”

“Of course you did. Of course you do.”

“I don’t,” says Geralt.

Jaskier stops, and behind him the second set of footsteps also halts.

“It was peaceful. It was my time.”

“It wasn’t,” Jaskier whispers. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

There is a touch to the small of his back, a gust of air across the nape of his neck. So familiar. He aches.

“Jaskier.” A strong hand closes around his wrist. He doesn’t look down at it, not even a glance. “The world doesn’t need me anymore.”

“What about the monsters? The wars?”

“There is Yennefer, and Ciri, and Eskel and the rest. There will always be someone.”

With dread creeping through his limbs, Jaskier says, “You’re telling me you don’t want to come back. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

He can almost hear the creaking of the intertwined, ancient trees above. It is just a few more steps.

“You can’t tell me that, not when I—”

Arms come around him, and he shuts his eyes. “Jaskier, I would rather have done what I have done and no more, than continue on and overstay my welcome. I would rather have my peace.”

“What if I need you?” Jaskier breathes.

“I am with you.”

“You weren’t.”

Geralt’s hand comes to rest over his heart. It is not cold nor hot through Jaskier’s doublet. It simply isn’t much of anything at all. There, but insubstantial. It trails its way up his jaw, traces over his bottom lip. “You forget,” Geralt says, “that I am in your words. That I will live on. Isn’t that what you said? Art does not die.”

“You heard.”

“I must have.”

“That’s not fair.” Jaskier sniffles, knowing full well he sounds like a child. “I came all this way. I have always followed you. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Whatever you wish.”

“I will sing of you until I can’t any longer, to anyone who will listen, and to many who will not.”

A smile, pressed to his ear. “I can think of no better way to be loved.”

Something nags at Jaskier, and he can’t say what. He is surrounded by a body he knows as well as his own, yet it’s not right. Why?

The body releases him. It says, “Look at me, Jaskier. That’s all you have to do.”

“You’re not Geralt, are you,” he says with trepidation, eyes still squeezed tight. “Are you? Don’t lie.”

“Jaskier.”

He breathes in. Opens his eyes. Grips the lute strap in both hands. Turns.

Silvered hair, sad golden eyes, a sharp nose, wispy around the edges.

“Geralt,” he whispers, reaching out even as the form dissipates. Called back to the bottom of the stairwell.

“Thank you, Jaskier,” it says, and then it is gone.

#the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fic #how tag???#anyway orpheus!jaskier and eurydice!geralt deserves to be a real fic #not like whatever the fuck this is #i humbly invite someone to write it and nourish me #my fic

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orbitariums · 4 years ago

Text

𝗮 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 | 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗸𝘆𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 + 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

hope you guys enjoy this smut that i wrote!!! more star wars pieces to come <3

contains: drug use [ barely ], sex while on drugs

word count: 5k

a night in coruscant | anakin skywalker x reader

The air on the rooftop was crisp and clean enough to ease even the heaviest set of lungs. The late night breeze felt cool against your bare skin, which was smooth and glimmering just like the embellishments on your strappy black dress, which stopped with a slit at your ankles. On your arm was the finest man in the Galaxy, Anakin Skywalker, everyone’s choice eye candy for the night besides yourself. Although that was obvious— you and Anakin went everywhere together, close friends that you were. So when you both got an invite to Padme’s birthday celebration, you knew it was only right that you attend it together.

You were leaning against the open bar, talking quietly to Anakin and sipping a glass of imported Sunberry wine, your lip gloss leaving a sticky stain on the rim of the glass.

“Looky looky, Ani and YN arriving together once again, no surprise there,” came a voice from behind you, and the two of you turned in sync to see the smiling face of your devilish friend, Kitana, who was essentially the host of this surprise party for Padme.

“And look who’s juggling two drinks, no surprise there,” you smirked playfully, gesturing to the two bottles that the esteemed party animal was juggling in one clasped hand.

“Good to see you, lovebug,” Kitana purred, pulling you in for a jostled hug, Anakin quickly giving her a friendly peck on the cheek.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” you commented, looking around at your surroundings.

The balcony of the penthouse you were in was large and expansive, crowded with well-dressed, beautiful citizens of Coruscant in their best robes and dresses. Padme was a big deal, everyone who was in her circle or close to her were equally big deals, or at least they had a lot of credit, so at any gathering with Padme there, you could expect to meet the best of the best.

“Gods, I know,” Kitana practically moaned, dramatically clutching her chest with her hand. “How have you all been? And, lemme guess, you came here together?”

Anakin chuckled, shaking his head,

“We did, except I didn’t fly this time.”

You narrowed your eyes at Anakin,

“Yes, because you’re an insane pilot.”

“Obi-Wan says I’m quite good,” Anakin puffed his chest out sensitively.

“Yes, while you’re on missions. I for one was not showing up to Padme’s party looking as if I’d been hanging upside down off a gnarltree,” you bit back, chastising Anakin for his devilish nature.

Anakin chuckled goodnaturedly, patting you on the shoulder,

“She’s kidding.”

Kitana snickered, shaking her head slowly,

“You two… hey, listen, I’ve got something for you.”

| | |

“What is it?” Anakin cocked his head, examining the crushed up, potent smelling plant with a color that strangely resembled Master Yoda’s green skin.

You were in a crevice of the rooftop tucked away from the other partygoers,

“It’s called marijuana!” Kitana whispered excitedly, looking between both you and Anakin, trying to make you both as excited as she was. “My father went on a highly important business trip to… well, it doesn’t matter where, but he came back with it. It supposedly has these potent healing properties but, if you ingest it, you get this really… really good feeling.”

Kitana glanced up momentarily, gaging your reactions with an anticipatory expression on her face, a hopeful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips,

“Wanna try it?”

You and Anakin both glanced up, making intentional eye contact with one another, as if you were saying “why not?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, nonchalantly.

“I couldn’t see why not,” Anakin agreed.

What could go wrong?

| | |

In just a matter of minutes after a few hits of this new marijuana substance (“Call it weed, it’s cooler,” Kitana had insisted), you were feeling… wonky, but in a good way. There was no other way to put it, you’d never felt this way before. Outside of the knowledge of Anakin, you’d tried a lot of other things like marijuana— namana, sweet blossom, even spice (just once, and never again), things Anakin would kill you if he knew about, but the feeling this gave you was unlike the others. You were extremely relaxed and calm, but at the same time extraordinarily giddy and happy. Things seemed to move a bit slower, and everything almost felt ridiculous, laughable. You found joy in the simplest things, specifically sitting by Ani’s side and fiddling with his fingers while you rested your head on his shoulder, sitting in the same crevice you were in before.

Kitana was off somewhere, telling you two to hurry back soon to play a little welcome game before Padme arrived for the surprise. But right now, you both were happy just being together, laughing stupidly at the most nonsensical things.

“Oh Ani,” you sighed, gazing up at his boyish, but well-defined face from where you rested your head on his shoulder. “It’s so beautiful out here. I wish we could spend every night like this.”

“I know,” Anakin replied softly, his voice having gone an octave lower and quieter ever since you’d smoked. He laced his fingers all the way in between yours and brought the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing there softly. “I wish I felt like this all the time… unfortunately, with the way things are going with the Council, I fear that’s impossible. I cherish these moments with you.”

You shifted, gazing at him with troubled eyes and a small pout, trying to get him to make eye contact.

“You know you’re my best friend, right, Ani? I’ll always be here for you.”

Anakin chuckled, amused by your kind heart, and finally looked down at you,

“Me too.”

“Okay, lovebirds, let’s get goooing!” Kitana trilled dramatically, clapping her hands together. “We are going to play a little game. Come on, come onnn!”

Kitana dragged the both of you up when neither of you budged, until you made your way to the penthouse where everyone was inside, mingling and chatting, and awaiting the guest of honor. Everything seemed to go by in a haze, slow motion almost, and the substance you’d inhaled had you taking your observation skills to the extreme. You looked over at Anakin to see if he was feeling the same way, only to find yourself gazing distractedly into his deep browns, his eyes tinted with red and slightly droopy, half-closed as if he was trying not to fall asleep, looking uninterestedly ahead at the group before him. You bit down on your lip and squeezed his hand, and although he didn’t look back at you, he slowly squeezed it back in acknowledgment.

“Welcome, welcome everyone, don’t you all look so beautiful tonight?” Kitana cooed at the smiling faces before her. “Now, as you all know, our lovely guest is going to be here soon, and we’ll have to get in places to surprise her accordingly. But, first, I wanted to give us a little more time to get to know each other. So we’re going to be playing a little game.”

You could’ve sworn Kitana winked at you then, but maybe you were just high. She explained the directions and everyone followed accordingly. She would make a statement or ask a question, and you would go towards whoever applied to the answer. The first round, she requested that everyone “walk up to the person with the cutest outfit” A swarm flocked to you, including Anakin, who only smiled at you gently. The next round, she said, “walk up to the person who has drunk the most tonight” Naturally, everyone flocked towards Kitana.

You played a few rounds, getting into the groove of things and getting to know a multitude of others. You were extra relaxed and confident thanks to the weed, and you got along quite easily with everyone. That was normally the case— you were attractive and everyone made it a point to keep you aware of that fact. But Kitana’s next question was pushing it, further than you ever thought you’d go.

“Alright. And now, and this is for the bold only. If you’re shy, this question is not for you!” Kitana was met with hooting and hollering from the gathering and she continued with an impish smirk. She paused before proposing the next round’s topic. “Now, walk up to the person you most want to be intimate with, and I mean intimate.”

The concept would have normally thrown you off guard. That is, if you were completely sober. But right now, your mind was not at all interceded by it. In fact, you were quite open. So open that you walked, on auto-pilot, to Anakin, who also walked, on auto-pilot, towards you.

The both of you remained ignorant to the swarms coming up to either one of you (you and Anakin were arguably the most attractive at the party, and everyone had collectively decided they wanted a piece of at least one of you). It was as if you were the only ones in the room. You stood in front of Anakin for a second, both your backs facing the crowd of partygoers behind you that were hoping you’d pay attention to them. You looked at him as if to ask him for confirmation, and you sensed the most imperceptible nod from him.

In that moment, nothing else mattered, and Anakin’s skin glowed golden in front of you, a goddess with locks of curly brown hair that you had run your hands through many times, but nothing like the way you thought about while you were trying to go to sleep. And then you leaned in, your faces just inches apart, breathing softly against one another’s lips. You inched your head forward, nuzzling your mouth against his, and he broke the wall between you, reaching in and pressing his lips against yours to lock in a slow, tender kiss. You were unaware of the oohs and aahs coming from all around, because all you were focusing on was the way Anakin’s lips felt soft and warm and wet against yours. The kiss was like no other, it was as if you were melting into his mouth like ice cream on a hot day in Naboo. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair just the way you desired and he pulled you closer into him by the small of your back, and you only pulled apart when you became aware of the crowd watching in a stupor.

When you pulled apart, your cheeks flushed warm at the hooting and hollering you were met with, all the raucous applause. But you didn’t pay any attention to the others, you simply continued gazing into Anakin’s eyes as he gazed back into yours, a new lightness in your gaze as if you had cracked the code. Before, this was something you and Anakin had almost been avoiding, dancing around the idea of it like frogs on floating lily pads drifting in a clear pond. You were best friends of course, your bond was unbreakable. But sometimes your touches lingered far too long to just be the touches of a close friend, and sometimes your stare remained far too fixated on Anakin’s lips when he spoke.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” you could practically hear the smirk in Kitana’s voice— she was always first to point out you and Anakin’s undeniable attraction to each other, no matter how many times the two of you brushed her off with an unbothered chuckle.

You giggled, shaking your head, and Anakin laughed too, bringing you in close for a hug. Again, everyone cheered, and once it died down, and Kitana was onto the next round, Anakin was guiding you away from the gathering, his hand on the small of your back.

“Uh, I-I-”

“Anakin, stop right there,” you pressed a finger to his lips. “I know you and I know you’re about to apologize for something we both wanted to do.”

He swallowed and you saw his Adam’s apple bob nervously in his throat,

“So do-do you want me?”

“Yes, Ani. Of course I want you, I-” you stepped closer to him and reached your hand up so it caressed his cheek and ran again through those luscious hazelnut locks of hair. You looked down at the ground, speaking quietly now, “I’ve always wanted you.”

You heard Anakin take in a sharp breath, then steady himself, and you felt his finger on your chin, making you look up at him.

“Good,” he said in that unusually low and husky voice, his hand grabbing your jaw gently, his thumb rubbing calm circles against your skin. “I want you too.”

A pause as you looked at each other hopefully, and then Anakin let his hand drop to your mouth, his finger dragged along your bottom lip slowly and seductively, maintaining eye contact with you the whole while until the very last minute when his eyes fluttered down to your lips, coated in shiny lip gloss. You stood there in awe, your lips slightly parted until you found the breath to speak.

“Now,” was all you said, looking up at him needily.

“What?” Anakin asked, leaning in in confusion.

“Right here,” you leaned in even closer, tugging on his only fancy robe while you whispered in his ear. Your breath was warm against his neck and your words trickled down his spine, causing him to jolt forward excitedly. “If you want me, then show me. Take me right here, right now, in one of the bedrooms.”

You weren’t sure where this burst of confidence was coming from, but deep down you knew it was definitely triggered by your high, which was still ongoing and peaking. You pulled away slightly, your lips still at his neck as you looked up at him with eyes that shot daggers.

“Can you do that for me, Ani? You must know I need you.”

“Fuck,” Anakin hissed, panting, and as he pressed into you, you could feel how hard he was underneath his robes, and you very purposefully nudged your knee against him. His voice was tight and strained as he spoke the words into the crook of your neck. “Look what you’ve done to me.”

“I haven’t done a thing to you,” you laughed lowly. “I think you did that all by yourself, Ani.”

You felt your stomach drop suddenly when Anakin huffed and grabbed you tightly by the hand, leading you quickly down the deserted hall and turning into one of the big bedrooms, shutting the door behind him immediately by towering over you with his hands pressed against the door on either side of you. You were locked in beneath him and you could practically see the hunger in his low-hanging eyes, see it in the way his jaw was clenched tight.

“Why have you kept this from me for so long?” he breathed heavily, and you replied,

“We both knew it, it was just a matter of when it would happen.”

Suddenly, Anakin was kissing you again, and you were kissing him back, and he turned around and pushed up against you until you were both on the plush bed. He hovered over you, his muscles flexing in his arms as he deepened the kiss, eliciting a sweet moan from your mouth into his. The kiss was breathless and passionate, burning with the flame of desire struck between the two of you.

Before you knew it he was pulling your dress over your head and you were raising your arms up so he could get it over your body, and he threw it to the side onto the floor. He resumed kissing you after an astounded onceover of your body, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to trap him in, your hands clutching either side of his soft face.

But suddenly, your lips lost contact with his as he pulled away. You whimpered, looking up at him in confusion and worry when you saw the look on his face.

“Wait…” he was breathing heavy. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Anakin, I want you to have me, please,” you pleaded, your tone descending from intense and irritated to begging and delicate.

You pressed your lips to his again, open-mouthed and kissing needily, but he pulled away once more. You huffed impatiently.

“No, I mean, really. We’re both... really high right now… a-aren’t you?”

“Yes, Ani,” you grinned, your heart softened by his consideration. You let your hand gently caress his face and his hair, a soft smile on your lips. “I’m sure. The… weed definitely has made an impact on me, but, not enough to cloud my judgment like this. I know I want you. I’m sure I want you. I need you. Are… are you okay with this?”

Anakin nodded intensely, and you followed suit, nodding your head slowly and placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay with it. I’ve wanted this for,” he gulped, glancing down at your beautiful body and getting distracted, “for so long.”

“As have I,” you giggled, and you pulled him in for another kiss, slower this time.

Every sensation was on ten, his lips against yours, the way his hair brushed lightly against your cheek, how his tongue would run along your bottom lip, slick with wet. Every sensation was like being bounced around on a big cloud in a cotton candy sky. Nothing had ever felt like this before, and it was a result of the chemistry between you two and the substance in your system. Eventually, you got his clothes off, too, running your hands along his abs with zero discretion as he kissed you, his mouth moving further down your body, starting at the neck with plump, tantalizingly slow kisses. You grasped a handful of hair, pulling gently at it and making him moan against your neck. Oh, how sweet his moans sounded to your ear, like audible candy that melted in your mouth. Your Anakin.

He made his way down, and once he made his way to your stomach, your legs were shaking with nerves. Every movement he made got closer and closer to your heat. Your stomach lifted and receded with every breath, and Anakin placed his hand on your belly, feeling your breath as your stomach rose and fell. Once you felt his hand there, your breathing calmed.

He looked up, his lips still attached to your v-line just above the hem of your underwear,

“Everything alright?”

“Yes,” you breathed in. “I’m… just nervous. We’ve never done this.”

“I understand. I’ll treat you right,” Anakin promised, his tone serious as sin. “Just lay back, I’ll make you feel good. I’m not going to judge you.” He pressed another kiss to your body, this time to your inner thigh, making you gasp. “And if you ever want me to stop, you say so.”

You nodded,

“Okay.”

Anakin spent a few more moments just like that, his lips kissing against the plush skin on your inner thighs, one hand interlaced with yours. After one particularly succulent kiss to your inner thigh, a moan rose deep in his throat and he glared up at you.

“Mm, you taste so good,” he sighed, making your cheeks warm just at the gruff sound of his voice. “Can I?”

He was pulling gently at your underwear, making sure it was okay if he pulled them down.

“Please,” you nodded vigorously, and he pulled them down with ease, sliding them down your legs and throwing them off to the side. You doubted you’d properly be able to find your clothes in this big room after you were done.

Anakin let out a shaky breath when he looked down at your pussy, glistening in the dark of the room, wet and throbbing just slightly. He went red in the face, feeling like he was doing something so against the rules— he was face to face with his best friend in your most vulnerable state. But the idea of it only turned him on.

“So pretty,” he breathed, placing a kiss on your mound.

You whimpered slightly, watching his every move. Smoothly, without haste, he flicked his tongue against your entrance, using his fingers to spread your folds. You practically lurched forward at the feeling of the tip of his tongue against you, so sensitive and so warm. He dipped his tongue in further, lips closing in around the tip of your clit as he did so. You moaned, your eyes rolling back at the magical sensation of pleasure,

“Yes, Anakin.”

He moaned against you, his voice vibrating against your pussy, making you groan and tug at his hair. He closed his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as he practically made out with your pussy. You laid there in complete ecstasy while Anakin made you feel so good, as promised. You nearly shrieked when he started to fuck you earnestly with his tongue, letting it delve deep in and out of you, exploring up and down as he used his thumb to gently rub circles against your sensitive clit.

“Oh gods,” you cried out, gripping harder onto his hair. “How—oh—where did you learn this?”

Anakin just chuckled against you, and your legs closed around his head as the pleasure became excruciatingly good. Once again everything was on ten. The drug had you feeling like you could feel every little sensation, and it was all so amazing.

“Ani, baby, I’m gonna come,” your voice grew broken and whiny as you scrunched your eyes shut, bucking your hips up closer to his face and feeling his tongue slide impossibly deeper into you while he did some inexplicable trick. “Please don’t stop, please don’t—”

You mewled loudly when he pulled away just as you were about to reach that peak, leaving you throbbing around absolutely nothing, his hands pushing your shaking legs apart.

“Why’d you stop?” you pouted, lamenting the feeling of his tongue inside you and his lips against you.

“Because you’re going to come on my cock,” he demanded as he reached up and hovered over you, face to face with you now.

The flash you saw in his eyes could only be described as a fire, and you couldn’t argue with him in such a state. This was a side of Anakin you’d never seen before, and it had you running your hands all over his body like a needy little puppy.

“But first,” Anakin said, only completing his sentence by taking two of his fingers and placing them at your lips. You opened with ease, coating his fingers in your spit and sucking on them while you looked hungrily into each other’s eyes. “Good girl,” he praised you, and before you knew it those fingers were leading down to your pussy, which was only now recovering from its declined orgasm.

You shook with a cry as Anakin slid his fingers into you like it was nothing, stretching you out.

“Shh,” he shushed you gently, kissing your cheek, before he pulled his fingers out and put them to his lips, sucking on his fingers just as you had his. He closed his eyes, reveling in the taste of you, like a forbidden fruit. He went back down again, fucking deep into you twice with his fingers, causing you to shudder and grip his bare, toned back.

This time, he put his fingers, coated with your slick arousal, to your lips, and you obliged, sucking his fingers with fervor.

“Here,” he’d said. “See how good you taste?”

“Mmm,” you moaned around his fingers, holding his wrist and sucking hungrily.

Anakin’s jaw ticked, watching your face, that cunning smile of yours as your lips closed around his fingers, the way your eyes seemed to pull him in without even trying.

“You like the way you taste, don’t you? Filthy thing,” he said through gritted teeth, and you nodded slowly, biting down on your lip once you let his fingers slide out of your mouth. He pulled off his boxers. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

With a shaky breath, Anakin gripped the base of his dick, his brows furrowed in concentration as he guided himself up to you, lining the tip of his dick up with your entrance. You both let out a slight gasping sound in reaction, and you looked up at Anakin with wide, awe-filled eyes. He slipped into you easily, and by that point you were both looking down to watch him stretch you out as your folds widened over the tip and shaft, until a good portion of him was inside you, thick and big and filling.

“Mmh,” you squirmed underneath him, and his eyes glanced up from your core to your face. Your brows were knit together and your lips were drawn down at the corners, the pleasure almost unbearable. “More, please.”

He abided silently, pushing deeper into you, forcing you both into silence as you concentrated on how good it felt. You enveloped Anakin perfectly, like a love letter sealed with hot, red wax. When you looked up at Anakin, his mouth was open in an o-shape and his brows were furrowed, and he was looking unabashedly into your eyes. They were as rich a brown as they had ever been, and still tinged with that red that made his eyes droop slightly, so every loo from him was a sultry gaze. You couldn’t help it, breaking the silence to whimper because he felt so good unmoving and throbbing inside you, and his intense facial expression had you salivating.

You squeezed involuntarily around him as if your pussy was begging him to move, and he let out a shuddering moan, swearing,

“Fuck.”

Feeling encouraged by his admission, you moaned and put a hand over his back, grasping the muscle there and saying,

“Please move, Ani, it feels too good-”

You were cut off by his sudden thrusting motion, deep and swift yet gentle all at once, plunging into you and then back out again, until he gathered a continuous momentum. By then, you were cursing and saying his name and tears were welling up in your eyes. Nothing had ever felt so good before, and you were so wet that you thought you could last forever. Each time he pulled out of you was a loss, and you fixated on those few seconds where he wasn’t inside you by wishing he’d be inside of you once again. Every sensation you felt set your soul on fire and pulled words out of your mouth you’d never imagined yourself saying.

When you were close, you had wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him so all he could do was push deeper inside you. You had your faces buried in each other’s neck, moaning against soft, sweaty skin, and a burning sensation began to fill your stomach and travel down as you released around him, coming like a waterfall and moaning his name, your nails digging little crescent moons into his back,

“Fu-fuck, Anakin!” you groaned, your voice hoarse and half-gone, squeezing your eyes shut as you tugged at his hair and pulled your hands around his neck. You rode out your high, mumbling incoherent phrases as he kept on pushing into you, chasing his own high after yours.

Your lips, tucked away in the crook of his neck, brushed against his ear, and he was done for, that feathery sensation combined with your dripping pussy absolutely soaking around him pushed him over the edge, and he came with a violent moan, his hips stuttering as he faded into you. Your name, as well as plenty of other things, fell out of his lips as he came, spurts of his hot cum shooting into you. He collapsed on top of you, sweaty bodies flush against one another. You could feel his chest rising and falling against yours, just as he felt your chest puff up against his own.

Then, the only sounds in the room were those of you breathing heavily, catching your breath like you were returning back to reality and the only world you truly knew, outside of the paradise you had found in one another for those few lingering moments. Anakin’s body heat against yours operated like a warm blanket, and you found yourselves staying there for a moment, wet and sweaty and dirty and somehow purified in the oddest of ways. When Anakin finally rolled away after what felt like hours later, on his back on the large bed beside you and still breathing heavily, you finally felt your high starting to wear off. It was like the longer you were intimate, the longer the high lasted, and now that that was truly over, you were coming back down.

You still felt euphoric, on cloud nine, your body abuzz with that glow you get post coitus. And you looked over at Anakin, to see that he was already looking over at you, his lips quirked up in a charming, boyish smile so typical of him. You leaned on your side and smiled back at him, your eyes locking in a knowing gaze. You leaned into him and kissed his button nose, and he chuckled, scrunching his nose up like a rabbit. You ran a hand through his hair, which was hardly out of place despite the past activities, and you shook your head with a light laugh.

“We should have done this a long time ago, no?” you joked, and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Well,” he started, brushing his hand against your cheek. “Now that we know how it feels, we have all the time in the world to do it again… and again, and again, and—”

“Alright, alright, you horndog,” you chortled. “I suppose you are right, though.”

“Mm hm, you know I am,” Anakin replied, his hand dropping down to your shoulder to caress your arm. “We should go see Kitana before the night is over, don’t you think?”

“Why, so she can announce to everyone that we had sex?” you asked with a laugh.

“No, silly,” Anakin shook his head with an amused grin. “For more of that stuff.”

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x y/n #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x yn #anakin smut #star wars smut #star wars oneshot #star wars prequels #star wars x reader

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