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melanch0ly-gh0st · 2 years

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throws crumpled paper at you

Here, take this writing practice with fluff and characters you’ve never heard of before, you sick fuck.

punches you in the face and dives into manhole cover

The room was silent, almost too silent.

Chloe knew why. It was because Ben was sitting opposite her, legs planted firm on the rug. His tail was folded neatly and plastered to his back. He was arched forward, claws clasped together and covering the tip of his mouth. The membranes on the side of his head twitched wildly.

Chloe could feel the cold radiating from him, sending shivers down her spine. So strong was his influence that it felt as though he had forcibly killed any and all noise that could enter the room.

She felt as though she was sat across from death itself, and it was tense with fear. Dare she speak? Or does she let her friend contemplate the events of the last couple of hours in silence? She certainly can’t let him boil in it alone. Not after what he saw. Not after what he felt.

She made sure to clear her throat with a hard ‘AHEM’ before she spoke. Ben broke his focus for only a moment, turning to meet her gaze with a stare, eyes worn with exhaustion. It didn’t take much to tell that he was certainly very bothered by the implications of a throat clearing. Nevertheless, he broke eye contact and rested his head in his hands again.

The silence was deafening now.

“S-So, um…” Chloe began, immediately tripping up on her words. What was the point of the clearing, then?! Riling Ben up?!

A little bit of color drained from Ben’s pink skin at her voice. He was already tired, pushed to the brink of his resolve. Talking would probably throw him over at this point. But it’s not like he had the strength to tell her no, either. He might as well let Chloe say her fill.

Not knowing what exactly to say, the chimera continued, the corners of her throat twitching with anxiety and producing a small, raspy tone as she did. “The roots… uh, what you saw. Was it…?” Dread shoved itself inside her throat, derailing her words. At the very least, she said something coherent, because Ben seems to understand.

The collar around his throat whirred into action, the bulb and certain divots in the metal surface starting to glow a dull white. Words were woven automatically. “It was nothing.” Ben stole a glance at Chloe, at the anxiety in her eyes, at her tail as its feather shifted uncomfortably in the tension, before looking straight to the rug beneath him. “Nothing important, anyway. Nothing that wasn’t already there, or acknowledged ages ago.”

Chloe watched him speak without moving his mouth. He could not speak normally; his body wasn’t designed for it. Instead, the collar was used to put his thoughts into words, and it never occurred to the chimera how strange it was. It was as if the being before her was not a person, but an effigy, a puppet that moved for a formless, higher power, which in turn spoke. It was as if there wasn’t truly someone there.

“You were… yelling. Loudly,” she continued, her voice feeling as though it’d break if he breathed. “You were bleeding a lot. The roots dug into your skin hard.” Ben sunk in his spot a little, his muscles tense yet too worn to stay up, while his tail began whipping about, brushing against the couch. Agitation, though something in Chloe’s mind told her she wasn’t the target of it.

“Yeah, I was. I was… overwhelmed,” Ben responded plainly, yet with a tip of fatigue in his tone. “It was too much too quickly. But I’m fine, I just needed s-space.”

A stutter. Chloe wondered how that was supposed to happen, considering he’s not limited by his tongue. Perhaps it’s anxiety bubbling in his stomach, fogging his train of thought.

“Well I… you… uhm…”

Don’t lose it now. You need to help him.

“You-You looked like you were more than just overwhelmed.”

“I was just overwhelmed. I don’t know what to tell you. I just… couldn’t handle it for a moment.”

The second line was delivered with a hint of anger. No, not anger. Impatience born of exhaustion. She couldn’t blame him.

“Do… Do you need to talk about anything?”

“Not really. It wouldn’t help.”

It wouldn’t help.

So it really was bothering him. A lot.

She could still hear his outcries as he hung from the wall. Those roots puncturing his flesh, drawing blood. Kicking and crying. Shouting, pleading to be let go. The despair in his voice. The desperate thrashing when he was released. Hypnosis persisting in his eyes until Chloe could remove it.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what… did you see, exactly? Anything that you think hit you the hardest?”

Ben’s tail was whipping hard now. His face reflected some kind of… anxiety? Guilt, perhaps, because he could barely control that wild appendage. He knew she could tell what it meant. He knows she thinks he’s mad at her.

“It… I saw…”

A pause. Choosing his next words carefully.

“My anxiety codified, I guess,” his words were deflated. “Self-depreciation, guilt, embarrassment, everything I’ve felt just being thrown at me while my mind was forcefully unable to cope.”

“You didn’t have the strength to escape?” Like we did.

“I guess I didn’t.” Because I’m weak.

More silence. Chloe’s ears were ringing.

“Did the same thing happen to you?” He spoke first this time, clearly worried about the answer. What did she see when she was entangled? What did the others see when they were entangled?

“My family. They were as hateful as ever. They tried to yell at me like I was a child. Tried to tell me that who I am is a lie, that I’m… something else? I could barely tell. They were barely coherent, as usual.”

“Did it hurt? Wasn’t it hard to resist?”

“It wasn’t that bad. I already moved on from them. They couldn’t control me the way the guy who trapped us wanted them to, because all those little miseries were thrown out a long time ago.”

Ben fell silent again.

Hatred. Hatred pointed towards himself. Chloe could see it very clearly. His exact thoughts were probably along the lines of, “Why did I let myself be so trapped?”

“It was the same thing for the others,” she continued suddenly. “Self-doubt, bullying, all that stuff they were held down by before. They moved on from it all. The roots couldn’t hold them very well.”

He slouched further, his tail losing its strength and flopping beside him lifelessly. He barely even had the strength to move the membranes.

That has to kill his back.

The room was very cold now. Chloe swore she could feel her own energy being drained.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m trying.”

She held her tongue for a moment. What else could she say?

The roots were overgrown, feeding plentifully on his anguish. He tried his hardest to shrink away from Chloe as she approached, pulling as if she were a monster coming to feast on him. As he yelled finally in defiant terror, she slashed the roots with her blade. Blood was trailing him as he fell. Nicky caught him, only to be met with kicking and shrieking, causing her to drop him by accident. His eyes, the roots left their influence on them, he could still see everything only as a wild maelstrom of fear. He clambered to his feet to fight off this seeming apparition, blood still spilling alongside him. Chloe called out to him, making his writhing slow, if only for a moment. She commanded him with her voice, quelling his fear as fast as she could before seizing his face and gliding her weapon over his eyes. The bright pink glow of its edge, dancing with flecks of orange like fire, burned away the presence of the roots, clearing his sight. Even as he came to, he groaned and huffed in seeming pain. He refused healing, patching his own wounds. The trek out of their prison was silent and agonizing.

This felt wrong. So godforsakenly wrong.

“Why were you… W-Why were you trying to-”

She stumbled on her words again, almost shaking from worry. She took a long, deep breath, concentrating, concentrating hard. She met out a fulfilling sigh at its crux.

“Why… are you trying to hold it in so hard?”

Ben looked at her bewildered, obviously confused as to her statement. Chloe nearly swore at herself before his expression turned to that of a deep fear. She was trying to get into the meat and bones of it. She knew he didn’t handle these things well.

“I… I don’t know, I just tolerate.” He finally said, trying to keep his voice level. And failing. Miserably. “I don’t have much else of a choice.”

“And why don’t you have a choice?”

“Because I-“ He paused for a moment, his breath wavering, like he was holding something- tears- back. He held himself for a moment longer before continuing. “…I just don’t have the chance to, with the way I am.”

“Can you elaborate?”

Ben was already straining to explain himself. He couldn’t describe his dread. Each instance of silence was worse than the last.

“Being vulnerable, trying to conquer my feelings alone, just makes it hurt more,” he finally sputtered out, trying his hardest to keep a linear thought process. “It’s all just a bunch of hopeless bullshit. I don’t have the strength to do anything to stop it, so the best I can do is tolerate. I don’t have any room to be emotional. At least, as emotional as my brain will allow me to be.”

“You can’t be emotional? Isn’t that, like, the whole thing about humans?”

“W-Well, yeah, but-“ He stops again. If his voice came from his throat, Chloe was sure he’d be choking on them. “I just… shouldn’t be expressing strong emotions for something so miniscule, right? All my crappy feelings are just… feelings. I shouldn’t be emotional over them, it’s irrational. I should just stomach them till they fade away.”

The word irrational echoed in Chloe’s head, hurting a little more every time she repeated it in her thoughts. She stomached it for a moment. “But it’s clear it hurts you. And it doesn’t seem that they’re fading. They look like they’re getting worse, actually.”

Ben looks up at her with despair evident in his eyes, dull and grey with exhaustion. “What else can I do?”

“You could let me help you. You could let any of us help you.”

“But I- That-“ He was trying to justify his silence, the collar around his neck straining. “It’s just, that-that I-“

“You’re afraid?”

Silence. As loud as a jackhammer.

He nodded. “Yeah… yeah.”

Chloe almost wanted to ask why, but her better judgement stopped her just short of uttering the word. She knew why. It was because vulnerability was hardwired out of him. Like he said, it was irrational. It was weak.

At least, he thought it was weak.

“You’re not weak for having limits, I promise you,” Chloe started, hoping to get Ben to open up a bit more. He only slouched even further forward. “But I have so many,” he managed, barely able to manage a sentence yet still persistent. “I’m little compared to everyone else. I get overwhelmed so easily. I’m demotivated all the time. I can’t really find the strength to push anymore. I’m just… going day by day. The least I can do for everyone is to just… hold it. I don’t even share those feelings with my family, I’m so secretive about it.”

“But you don’t have to hold it around us. You’re allowed to feel things, Ben.” This was going to be difficult. Chloe was used to consolidating the others, as they were used to consolidating her. Ben was able to consolidate them to some extent, as he was less… prone to emotional responses. He was better at discerning logic, and it helped them when they were stressed out and trapped in their own feelings. On the other hand, his handling of emotions made it near impossible to help him. His feelings were, to him, nearly unable to be perceived. He could barely confront them, which makes comfort difficult when you can barely even understand it.

“But you shouldn’t have to tolerate it.”

“And who decided that?”

“Common courtesy?”

Chloe was almost blown away by the statement, but steeled herself and retorted just as hard. “Ben, if common courtesy got its way, there’s no way you’d have gone out of your way to help all of us when we’ve gotten beat down before.”

“But that’s just because-“

“Like about a month ago, when I was sobbing because I broke up with my boyfriend and felt guilty. You came to me and listened to me talk about him. About all the shit he did to me. You helped me understand that all those emotions he put in me were a farce he used to control me. You helped me calm down and told me that my guilt was some twisted mix of sadness and what few good memories I had of him.” She let out a small giggle. “You even took me to get some ice cream afterward, and good Christ I needed it.”

“But you-“

“Then there was the quarrel between us about where to go at that culture swap convention. We were arguing because we didn’t want to split up, but didn’t have enough time to see everything we wanted to. You intervened and stopped us when we started to yell. You reminded us that the event spanned multiple days and we could just do each activity we wanted to do over the span of the night. You diverted an entire argument for no reason other than you felt it was right.”

“Chloe, please, that was-“

And THEN there was the 30 of September, where we all got captured by that one… extra-dimensional god… guy. What was his name? Nitok? Ni…tofu…”

“Ni’Tokis.”

“Right right, thank you. You were the only one that didn’t get captured because you weren’t asleep yet. You chased him like a rabid animal and tore him apart. You freed us all and led us home. You could’ve just ran and left us to our fate. You didn’t.”

“He was thr-“

“And THEN there was the time we all got fatally injured and you ignored your own wounds to let us heal while you fought the enemy off and tended to us. There was also that time you helped me fight off that crazy guy that wanted the Sigil. Then there was ALSO-“

“Chloe, PLEASE!”

The collar nearly started sparking as Ben interrupted her, eyes flaring with anxiety. “I did all those things because you were all in some kind of jeopardy. That fucking Sam kid wanted to exploit you and you were exposed and afraid. Like hell if anyone in their right mind’d let you fall into that trap again. The argument was a simple dispute with a simple solution. And that Ni’Tokis shithead literally threatened to hurt you all from the second you fell asleep to the second you woke up. That cannot stand.”

“And I’m supposed to sit by and let you suffer?”

“I know that the way I feel is wrong and should be corrected. It’s my fault and mine alone. You don’t have to help me with something I can help myself with. You shouldn’t feel obligated to.”

He was raising his voice, but not in such a way to attack Chloe, just to get his point across. She wasn’t ready to back down just yet though.

“You never needed to help me get past Sam, and yet you did. I knew it was wrong too, but those good memories made me deny that. You helped me anyway.” She stood up, claws pressing down on the soft rug. Ben almost shrank away from her as she approached like a monster coming to feast on him. “You don’t have to hurt on your own. I don’t know who told you that your emotions are worthless, but they seem kinda shitty.”

She placed a single hand on Ben’s knee as she knelt down to face him, almost shivering at the feeling of biting cold running up her arm. “You’re very cold,” she said, trying not to shy away from him.

He usually didn’t like unwarranted touching, but for Chloe and the group, he had enough trust to make an exception. “Yeah, it’s just my-my magic. It’s fine.” His voice was weaker now, making Chloe wonder how the collar worked. Did Ben’s brain just adapt to having his thoughts get read out loud and start mirroring his regular speech, or is it adapting to his emotional patterns and compensating accordingly?

It also was definitely not fine. This was even colder than usual, especially by Ben’s standards. His magic was intensifying to compensate for his unstable emotions. “I can see you shivering, Ben. Your own power is turning on you right now. If it’s going to be hard to get you to open up, can I at least help you warm up?”

The reptile tried to come back with a firm “no”, but found himself lost in Chloe’s pleading stare, wanting so desperately to let her help him heal. With a heavy sigh- which he tried very hard to hide- he muttered a small “o-ok” under his breath, and looked to Chloe in fear of what she’d do. Her eyes seemed to light up at his response.

“Ok then, here, just let me-“ she crouched down and slowly bent her left arm around Ben’s knees, curling her right around his lower back. Both of them sometimes forgot how short he was compared to her. About ⅗’s of her height, give or take. And by Christ, he was light. Even compared to Chloe’s built-for-flight body, he was barely anything. That became evident when Chloe applied her strength and, with minimal effort, brought Ben up and into her arms, readjusting him to prevent him from slipping out.

Ben could barely perceive what was happening for a moment, a wave of red-hot embarrassment washing over him. The chimera was somehow extremely gentle with a whole ass person, and could lift him like a fucking bedsheet. He recognized after a moment that they were moving, not too rapidly, but not too slowly either. With little effort Chloe leaned down and plopped down on the couch, still carrying him delicately. Laying her legs across the cushions, she slowly shifted Ben in her grip until he was facing the same way before laying him on her chest.

The embarrassment grew hotter, burning his face red. Not like Chloe could tell anyway, because she had it currently pressed against some spare chest fluff poking out of her neck. Ben struggled to reach his arms out against her grip, feeling along her sweaters soft fabrics. He wasn’t against this, necessarily, it was just… a lot.

“How does that feel? Better at least?” Chloe asked, voice dripping with contentment. Ben could barely manage a stutter against the wave of warmth, but did pull out a small, sputtering “y-yeah”, which drifted from the collar currently submerged in feathers.

“Very distracting, isn’t it?” Chloe began, witholding a snort at the sight of her friend drowning in plumage. “I’ve gotten distracted by my fluffiness a couple of times, it’s like being your own personal pillow.” She made sure to start stroking Ben carefully with a free hand. Though he wasn’t used to this vector of affection, he wasn’t against it, as much as his brain was yelling at him for allowing himself to be this vulnerable.

Something clicked in Chloe’s head suddenly, and, without loosening her grip on her friend, looked over to a series of clocks mounted on the wall. It was set to mimic hours in the real world, according to each house member’s time zone. Ben’s specifically was currently at 8:57 AM.

“Oh hey, it’s pretty bright in the morning for you right now,” she said, looking down at Ben as he continued to fail to process the insane fluffage happening at that moment. It took him a second to register that she was speaking, and when he did, he noticed the time. “Oh, it is.”

“Think it’s about time for us both to go to bed, I have to finish tweaking some new tracks before I release ‘em. You got anything you need to do?”

“No, but I should probably still wake up.”

Ben slowly began to shift his weight off of Chloe to try and dismount from her plumage cuddle. “Here, I’ll just get-,” he began, pulling himself off of her, only to be pulled back in again.

“I said we should wake up, not that we should stop snuggling. We just started!” She tried to enwrap Ben in her grip again before something hit her, probably a lot later than it should’ve. “Unless you don’t WANT to… I mean…”

“I… don’t sleep very out of my own bed… or with others,” Ben said, almost dejected. Maybe he enjoyed this more than he’d like to admit. “B-But I can try, at least!” He tried to force all his energy into that little bit of positivity.

“Alright, if you’re okay with it, just… give me a holler if you can’t fall asleep. You’re super light and much smaller than me, so it’s not like you’re crushing me or anything.”

With a little jump of excitement in Chloe’s heart (and a little bit of anxiety in Ben’s), she wordlessly pulled her arms off him to drape them behind her head, much to Ben’s dismay (he liked being held, oddly enough), and to encourage Ben to make himself comfortable. Taking the hint silently, he slowly began to… do something? Chloe couldn’t tell what he was up to. He was just kind of… weirdly slithering about on her torso, trying to find the best position to both sleep and NOT crush her to death. Chloe could tell he didn’t believe what she’d said about his weight (or lack thereof).

Eventually, though, his movements do become coherent, as he seemed to find a spot near Chloe’s neck and settled there. He also made sure to claw at his collar, following which was a soft click and, after another second of fidgeting, a low clunk as it was knocked to the rug. Guess he didn’t have the motivation to put it away properly. Eh, he’s broken the thing plenty of times before, he’s certainly going to get a replacement if it gets damaged.

Though, as he tried to get comfy, Chloe starts to think about everything Ben’s done that she named earlier. About the beings he’s slain. About the insane feats of power he’s accomplished. Just a couple of days prior, he stopped a raging forest fire spanning miles in every direction. The memory of it was ironically burned into her mind. The endless thrall of orange and red, bleeding every living thing dry of its oxygen and leaving them a charred corpse, blankets of vegetation turning grey and lifeless, the scent of ash fresh in her nostrils. It was hot, way too hot.

And then the fires ceased. They were killed in an instant, leaving what remained seemingly unscathed. It was nothing more than an energy wave. Ben sent it out with just enough power to starve the fires as they blazed bright, snuffing them all out in a matter of seconds. So much light, so much activity, gone without a trace, nothing but the chill of a land deprived of energy left behind.

Chloe snapped back to reality for a moment, looking to Ben only to realize that he was starting to curl up near her neck, settling his head around her fluff.

He brought his jaws down on an unsuspecting monster, shredding their neck with razor sharp teeth and ripping their head off with a jerk of his own.

His claws found a slight grip on her sweater, clamping down near his chest as he settled.

His claws ripped into the flesh of demons. He reached in and found organs, tearing at their membranes with a squeeze of his grip.

The silence was disturbed by a small, content groan as he managed to take in as much warmth as possible.

Gods shrieked in agony as their limbs were pulled off, leaving them exposed to blow after blow of emerald energy. Their bodies fell silent, replacing their presence in the world with a bitter cold. It was as if stars had suddenly died, entropy taking a life by force.

Chloe thought about these things with a small tinge of fear in each. Ben never really specified how much power he wielded, just that he had a lot. Every time the group thought they had perceived the upper limit of his strength, he managed to pull the rug from under them with yet another stunt. First it was a powerful beast. Then a brutal warrior. Then a god. Then more gods. Sometimes it felt like he’d annihilate Chloe and the others in a heartbeat.

But she knew he wouldn’t.

Not when he was currently curling up on her chest.

Speaking of which, his legs had almost retracted until they couldn’t pull back any more. His body wrapped around until his thighs were close to his head, reducing his height status from ⅗ Chloe’s to at most ¼. The chimera’s jaw nearly slammed open at the sight. He was like an oversized football. She could put him in a travel bag and take him to goddamn Hawaii.

Then again, she thought, thinking about the rune embedded in his chest, that’s what the polymorph’s for

She thought again, for a moment, about the roots, about the agony in Ben’s eyes as he struggled and screamed for freedom. It clearly hurt it. It clearly hurt him a lot. But… at the very least, as little as he was going to talk about it, she got him to acknowledge it, which meant she could help him out of it slowly. He wasn’t going to be alone in this, in anything, for that matter. She would be there for him. They all would.

And, judging by the success of giving him a little peace for himself, he might just open up very soon.

Chloe held onto that hope as she drifted, listening to Ben’s happy little trills as he had the first comfortable rest he’d had in ages.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #bet you didn’t know that I write #you slimy fool you #oc #hurt/comfort #chimera #reptile #fluff #fluff of the covenant

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izzy-b-hands · 2 years

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I took the knowledge of Con knowing how to sing well and turned it into Izzy can sing and dance and did when he and Ed were first starting out to help pay pirate bills or however ya wanna put it except oh whoops it was lap dances and stripping because I mean. I could see it, and I would very much enjoy it. Where was I? Anyway, here be horny dancing fic.

Ed/Izzy/Stede, another with Izzy/Stede focus because what else did you expect from me lmaooo

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"He sings and dances you know," Ed motioned to Izzy, who was watching the crew work at the tasks they'd been assigned (which they weren't really doing, more talking, but if the captains didn't give a fuck then Izzy wouldn't waste energy on it either, it seemed.)

Stede frowned at him, and readjusted on the bit of rail they were leaned against. "Don't be mean."

"I'm not?"

"I'm not that stupid," Stede continued. "I have my moments, but come on."

"Really!" Ed insisted, and began to rifle through his pockets. "God, I have an old sketch of him from a show, I actually pulled it out days ago to show you, or I knew you wouldn't believe me-"

He handed over a sketch. Not overly detailed, but that was clearly Izzy on his hands and knees on a small stage, wearing not a single stitch.

Stede chuckled as he gave the sketch back. "Where did he do all this singing and dancing? Though I do see the dancing, now that you mention it. He's swift on his feet when he duels too."

"He is," Ed sighed, and they both went dreamy-eyed for a minute.

They caught each other, and giggled.

"Sorry," Ed smiled. "It was always pubs and places like that. Occasionally an inn lobby with space for it."

"And he did this just because?"

"Izzy has a reason he does everything, whether it's right or wrong," Ed replied. "No, if we were out of money, we would take turns finding a way to get food and shelter as needed."

"And he's good at this dancing?"

Ed nodded with a grin. "I should get on him to do a demonstration for you."

Stede blushed, and pondered it.

---

It was a clear vision in his head. Izzy stripped down to nothing, clothes already tossed to the floor. Ed behind him, knelt on the bed so he could kiss at Stede's neck and run his hands over him. The chair was a simple, plain one, stolen from another part of the ship for this purpose alone (which is why the crew could never find out, or they'd never want to use it again even once cleaned.)

"Look at me," Izzy murmured, taking Stede's chin in his hand. "My eyes are up here, Bonnet."

"They're gorgeous," Stede smiled weakly.

Izzy smirked. "You're meant to apologize for your wandering gaze, in this game."

"And how would you have me do that?" Stede asked. Malicious compliance was something he was well-versed in, even here. "To kneel at your feet and lick your boots? Maybe after Ed's come on them?"

"Little shit," Ed giggled in his ear. "We should do that sometime though."

Stede nodded. "Could you handle that, Izzy? I don't think you could."

Izzy was hard himself, cock leaking precum onto Stede's stomach as he straddled his lap.

It was torture. Wonderful, but still torture. Izzy never making full contact with his thighs or cock, shifting his hips sensuously to allow for the smallest hint of skin on skin.

Behind him, Ed whimpered blissfully, sucking hickeys onto Stede's shoulder and neck. They had a thing about marking each other now. They hadn't had time to tattoo Stede yet, but for now, he felt this was a more than acceptable alternative.

Izzy occasionally leaned down to take his other side, nipping at the skin then licking over the spot slowly. If not that, he was redirecting Stede's hands as Stede had told him prior to do. He liked the idea of letting Izzy have control of that part, plus then his hands were always where they were most wanted.

For now they were at Izzy's hips, Stede rubbing his thumbs softly near the slight bump of bone under the skin.

It was often the gentlest touch that undid Izzy. This time, Stede imagined, would be no different. Izzy would collapse as gently as possible onto his lap, fingers spreading precum over their cocks to make it easier to frot against each other.

"Please," Izzy would whimper. He always went needy and clingy just before and after. Close was never close enough, and he liked being fucked or jerked through his orgasms even if it was sensitive enough to hurt. "Fuck me like you mean it, Bonnet."

"I would," Stede would mutter, taking his turn to wrap a hand around their cocks. "But you won't last long enough to get me inside of you, will you?"

Like clockwork, there would be Izzy spilling over onto his hand, grinding his hips and moaning into Stede's shoulder (Ed, by this point, would be laying back to jerk off and enjoy the show, as they all took turns doing now and again.)

---

"Stede?"

Stede jumped. "Sorry?"

"You like, blanked out on me for a good minute," Ed laughed. "Staring at nothing. Getting harder the longer you stared."

Stede glanced down and immediately looked away. "I can explain."

"I'd love to hear the explanation," Ed said, and took a small step closer, enough to capture Stede's mouth in a kiss. "In our bed, that is. Let me go get Izzy, and you can explain to him too. Well, that and I bet he still has his old costume. Be right back!"

Stede nearly called him back, slightly fearful Izzy might not want to think about those days and maybe simply didn't want to do any sort of dancing anymore, unless it involved a sword.

But Izzy looked over to him as he and Ed talked, and met Stede's gaze.

He undid the first few buttons of his shirt with a knowing smile, and Stede felt his heart flutter.

He rushed off to find a spare chair. He had a fantasy to make reality.

#text post #ofmd fic #i have no defense for this i am feeling slutty and high in this chilis tonight

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lilgynt · 4 years

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Today I think I will be wildly dysphoric and mentally ill

#personal #hello wanting to cut my breast off n ending up in a weird headspace after looking at men’s clothing I want to buy #like it’s weird cause I’m fine with that? my family knows I buy men’s clothing #like it’s not like oh I can’t believe this is something I want or anything this is pretty normal #but idk? looking at pants and underwear just made my brain funky #I was gonna buy some then I was like I could just do this by myself later #and then my brain went Full mentally ill which again is really confusing???#cause I was with just my brother and he knows I buy men’s clothing hell I ran into his room day I got my binder to steal shirts to try on #like he’s not aware of my gender issues but he knows I do shit like this??????#anyway I started spacing HARD and could NOT handle eye contact or talking #I don’t like eye contact most days but I just ignore the urge cause I don’t know man I got issues #but today was like no sir #anyway I tried ordering food but panicked and I don’t know when the lady addressed me #my brother realized oh it’s not a laziness thing but a weird brain thing and was like ooooo and was cool about it #I think I was weird for most of the day #like #ugh I don’t want to talk about it but I was weird with this other situation and felt my brain be like #weird #and cling to the dogs at my brothers house #anyway today is like I think eye contact is the devil I will stutter a lot more and while I’m usually insecure with #the idea that I’m not as curvy as usual today I will be 1000000 times more curvy somehow and it will make me want to die #I really just want my chest felt and some boxers #just want to feel normal #I think my period is coming so let’s blame that!#neighbors blasting music might fuck around and commit acts of violence my brain does not like that at all

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

2K notes · View notes

dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Pocket Knife Prince

Pairing: c!Technoblade x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] You’ve liked Technoblade from the moment he joined Pogtopia, but you could never quite bring yourself to confess. Who knew it would only take a pocket knife and some potatoes to change that?

Warnings: minor cursing & one slightly out of pocket joke

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: this a repost of an older story i had posted a while back. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you enjoy! <3

You huffed as you pulled yourself up another rung on the ladder, your arms straining as you did your best to keep yourself balanced. You still couldn’t fathom why Tommy thought it was a good idea to dig straight down.

“I’ll hit a cave, eventually,” he had told you as he grabbed a pickaxe, already starting to mine away at the space beneath his feet.

“Maybe,” you had said. “But what if you hit a lava pool? Do you really want to burn alive?”

“Oh, I have a backup plan in case I fuck up.” He held up a bucket of water, grinning at you. “Bam. Fucking foolproof.”

Yeah, sure, you thought to yourself with a grimace as you continued to haul yourself upward. You might not have died while digging down, but I might die while climbing up.

Pausing, you reached behind you to adjust the strap of your back with a cry of frustration. This is way too heavy—I should have gone back earlier.

You looked back up again, squinting for a second before your eyes lit up. At long last, light! You were at least somewhat close to the entrance, now. “Just a bit more climbing,” you muttered to yourself as you reached up once more, “and then you’ll be able to take this stupid bag off.”

A few moments later, you gasped as you finally dragged yourself out of the vertical tunnel, standing up on shaky legs. Without even an ounce of hesitation, you swung your pack off your back, dumping it onto the dusty earth ungracefully. Your muscles practically screamed with relief as you rolled back your shoulders, a wide smile stretching across your face.

“Hey, boys!” you shouted, your voice echoing in the tall ravine. “Guess who’s back?!”

You heard some rumbling, then a tuft of blond hair peeked out from one of the overhanging pillars. “Big [Y/N]!” Tommy shouted, waving at you. “You took for-fuckin’-ever to get back.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not my fault we needed so much stuff.” You narrowed your gaze. “Also, your ladder idea sucks.”

Tommy scowled. “My ladder idea is fucking genius, you bi—”

A new voice cut in. “Tommy, that’s enough.”

You smiled triumphantly as you watched Tommy immediately shrink back, his tone quieting as he grumbled defeatedly, “Yes, Wilbur.”

Giving him a quick ruffle of his hair, Wilbur strolled down the ravine’s cobblestone steps down to the bottom. He pulled his hands out of his coat pockets as he flashed you a grin. “Welcome back, [Y/N]. How was the trip?”

You offered him a weary but satisfied look. “Oh, you know. Dark. Dusty. The usual. But…” Bending down, you flipped open the top of your pack and pulled out a smaller sack, shaking it in front of his face. “…I got all that gold you wanted! There’s probably a little less than seven stacks in there, which will be plenty if we want to make some golden apples.”

Wilbur blinked at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise as a smile began to tug at his lips. “Not that I doubt you or anything,” he said, “but where in the world did you manage to get nearly seven stacks of gold?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, dropping the bag into his hands with a hum. “In a cave.” When he stared at you in stunned silence, you quirked a brow at him. “What? It’s not like it was hard.”

He was grinning now, shaking his head. “You’re batshit crazy, [Y/N]. That’s incredible.”

You smiled sheepishly at his words. “For the record,” you pointed out, “I didn’t do it all in a single day or anything. I was gone for, like, half a week.”

“That’s still really good work, alright?” He reached over, playfully punching your shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

You winced, shooting him a dirty look. “Ow, that hur—”

“Oh, you’re back.”

Your head whipped around at the sound of low, rumbling voice. Your frown vanished at the sight of Technoblade standing a few feet away from you, a basket of potatoes held in his gloved hands. You felt your heart swell and a bright grin replace your scowl as you bounced over to him. “Hi, Techno!” you chirped.

He smiled back at you, his gaze kind. “Hello.”

From behind you, Wilbur let out a distressed noise. “Jeez, you seem so excited to talk to him but barely batted an eye at me. Did you miss him that much?”

You stuck your tongue out at him, trying to hide the flush of your cheeks. “More than I did you.”

Tommy cackled as he walked by, adjusting the straps of the pack in his hands. “Ouch. Maybe you should get some ice for that burn, Wilbur.”

Wilbur grimaced, opening his mouth to retort when his gaze suddenly lit up. “Actually,” he said, turning, “speaking of ice, who wants to go with me to the Nether to destroy some of the SMP’s and Manberg’s ice roads?” A devilish grin split across his face. “I figured that it would slow them down a bunch and they’d spend less time focusing on us, so it’ll be easier for us to get into contact with Tubbo.”

You blinked at him, then sent him a teasing smile. “Wilbur, this might one of the only good ideas you’ve had since starting a drug cartel.”

“Thank y—wait, is that a compliment?”

“Man,” Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at him, “just take it as one and let your ego coast on that for the next six months.”

“Anyways,” Wilbur said, ignoring him and moving on, “who wants to come with me?”

You shook your head, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “No thanks. I just got back from a long, long mining trip. I think I’m due for some time off.”

Wilbur nodded. “Alright, fair.” His gaze moved to the figure standing next to you. “Techno?”

Technoblade simply raised the basket of potatoes in his hands. “Nah. I’ve got my hands full here.”

Wilbur made a face, a hint of desperation seeping into his eyes. “You can farm potatoes any time,” he said, his voice raising a pitch or two. “How about you just come with m—”

“Why don’t I just go?”

Wilbur froze, and he turned with a shaky smile. “A-Are you sure about that, Tommy? You sure you don’t just want to stay in the ravine with [Y/N]?”

Tommy shrugged, flipping the stick in his hand. “Not really. It’s not like I have anything better to do, anyways.” He nudged the pack at his feet. “I’m even packed and ready to go, too.”

Wilbur swallowed, and you could have sworn a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. “You really want to come?” he added, sounding more and more uncertain with each word that passed his lips.

“I dunno, Wilbur,” Technoblade spoke up, quirking his lips at him, “but it almost sounds like you don’t want to bring Tommy with you.”

Tommy gasped, looking appalled. “What the hell, Will? Of course you want me to go with you, right?”

Wilbur turned on his heel, dragging a tired hand over his face. “Sure, Tommy. Let’s just say that.” He strode away toward the stairs, practically stomping his way up to the second floor. “Just give me a second to grab a pack,” he sighed, waving a hand behind him. “I’ll be down in like five minutes.”

Tommy threw his hands in the air, waving his stick. “Fuck yeah!”

Technoblade let out a quiet chuckle, turning on his heel. “Well, I’m gonna go back to farming.”

You glanced at him shyly, trailing after him. “Can I come with?”

His step faltered, and he turned to send you a fond look. “Always.”

Your heart lit up at the sight and you grinned, following him into the garden room. The entirety of the floor had been replaced with dirt, tiny streams of water weaving their way around the potato patches. You let out a quiet hum as Technoblade set the basket of potatoes on the ground, grabbing a hoe from its place on the wall and walking over to the makeshift field. Digging the blade of the hoe into the earth, he pulled back and repeated the motion until the soft, dark soil was exposed to the air. Leaning back against the wall, a soft smile crept onto your face as you watched.

You remembered when Technoblade first arrived in the Dream SMP, all those months ago. You had been sitting in the ravine, peeling an apple with a pocket knife as you chatted with Wilbur, when Tommy burst in with a deafening shout about “the blade”. Raising your head, you had opened your mouth to make a snarky retort, but the words died in your mouth the minute you laid eyes on him.

He looked like a prince—a handsome one, at that.

While Wilbur had jumped down to greet Technoblade with a friendly hug, you had simply stared at the newcomer, pocket knife in your hand and apple slice in the other. As Tommy brought Technoblade over to you and asked you to introduce yourself, you remembered that dizzy pink feeling rising in your chest as you blurted the first thing that came to mind.

“Want an apple slice?”

You had expected him to be confused, shaking his head and pulling away with a disgusted look. But instead, his gaze flickered to your hand.

“I’d rather have the knife.”

You had blinked at him for a moment, stunned, then burst into laughter, outstretching your hand with the pocket knife handle extended toward him. He had offered you a small, awkward smile back, gingerly taking the knife from you. When his hands brushed against yours, that hazy, rosy feeling swelled in your chest again.

Ever since that moment, you’d only fallen harder and harder.

It was difficult to put into words just what drew you to Technoblade. Of course, he was pretty, but you weren’t that shallow. He had an awkward charm to him, something that seeped into every aspect of his being. He was hardworking, determined, sarcastic, and oh-so very real. You couldn’t name one thing about him that you didn’t like, really. You loved his laughter that came in brief, giggling bursts. Every time he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back. He never failed to keep you guessing, and you loved every second you spent with him.

You weren’t sure how far you’d fallen at this point, but you knew one thing, and it was that there was no going back.

“Hey,” a new voice said suddenly, pulling you away from your thoughts. You turned, watching Tommy stick his head into the room. “Can I have some potatoes for the trip?”

Your eyes shot to Technoblade, who paused for a moment, then nodded, gesturing to the basket at his feet. “Sure. You can have a couple.”

Tommy grinned, strolling in to lean down and pluck three potatoes from the pile. Standing back up again, he toed the basket, tossing and catching a potato in his hands. “Hey, Techno,” he said, “don’t you ever get tired of farming these things?”

Technoblade paused, patting down the dirt he had just covered another potato with. “Eh, not really.” His eyes flickered with contentment, and you felt your lips twitch. “I like it.”

Tommy frowned. “But,” he said, “it’s so fucking boring.”

You gasped, shooting him a glare. “Tommy! That’s mean.”

“What? Am I wrong?” He flung his arm out to point at the tilled dirt, clearly unimpressed. “All he’s doing is the same fucking thing over and over, again. We’re in a war, [Y/N]. Why can’t he just spar with me or something?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, deadpanning. “Tommy, the last time you sparred with Technoblade, you lasted less than ten seconds.”

He grew quiet. “Okay, well, you didn’t have to put it like that, but—”

“What? Am I wrong?” you said, mimicking him.

A second passed. Then two.

“…touché, [Y/N].”

“Tommy!” Wilbur’s voice echoed from the top of the stairs, his head popping out from between the railings. “You ready to go?”

Without missing a beat, Tommy whipped around, rushing out of the farm room and slipping up the stairs. “I’m coming!”

A smirk tugged at Wilbur’s lips. “Heh.”

“Wha—oh, Will! That’s fucking disgusting.”

“But it was funny,” you called out after the youngest.

“Fuck off, [Y/N]!”

Beside you, Technoblade let out a laugh, his eyes curving into two crescent moons as he set down the hoe and picked up a shovel. With a fond smile gracing your lips, you took a step toward him, leaning down to take a closer look. There was something so endearing about knowing someone as powerful as Technoblade had a hobby as mundane as farming—farming potatoes, to be more specific.

You liked it. A lot. You liked him a lot.

You wondered how much longer you could go without saying it aloud.

“Hey, Techno,” you murmured, watching his ears perk up at the sound of your voice, “could you teach me the best way to plant potatoes?”

He paused, his shovel planting itself in the earth as he turned to look at you, his lips parted in surprise. “Y-You actually want to learn?”

You bobbed your head, praying that your face wasn’t growing any warmer. “Of course. Fighting’s fun and all, but there’s more to life than just bloodshed.” You flashed him a bright grin. “Besides, an army needs food to fight!”

With a small grin, he gestured for you step closer. “You want to make sure you dig about six to eight inches down,” he explained, gesturing down the hole with his finger. “If you don’t dig deep enough, then the potato will be too close to the surface, and if you dig too deep, it’ll have a harder time reaching the top.”

You nodded, your tongue swiping over your lips in concentration. Technoblade let out a brief cough, turning away with a slight flush to his cheeks as he grabbed a potato from the basket next to him. “Then,” he continued, “grab a potato. You’ll want to cut it in half down the middle and plant it so the cut side is facing downwards.”

Sticking a hand into his pocket, he rummaged around for a second before pulling out a familiar pocket knife. Your eyes flashed with recognition as he flipped the blade open and sliced through the potato with ease.

“Is that,” you began slowly, your tone tentative and gentle, “my pocket knife? From when we first met?”

Technoblade’s hands faltered as he sliced, his gaze flickering to you with a bashful look. “It’s—um, yeah. Does… does that bother you?”

You immediately shook your head, waving your hands in front of you. “No, not at all! I-I was just wondering. I haven’t seen it in a while, that’s all.”

He lowered his chin, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “I’ve been taking good care of it,” he admitted quietly, his gaze not meeting yours. “It’s important to me.”

You blinked, your heart beating faster in your chest. “It is?” you whispered.

He nodded. “It is.”

You wanted to curl up into a ball and squeal. It only took two simple words from him to send you into a flurry of awkward smiles and blushing whines. You couldn’t believe just how far gone you were.

Technoblade stretched a hand toward you, half of the potato he cut clutched between his fingers. “Here. You try planting one.”

With a shaky hand, you gently pulled the potato from his hands, nearly flinching at the feeling of his skin brushing against yours. Carefully, you reached over and set the potato face down like he had instructed. You pointed your hand toward the pile of dirt lying just beside the hole, about to start covering the potato when his arm shot out in front of you.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, making you freeze in place. “You don’t have gloves on. I don’t want your hands to get dirty.”

You sent him a small smile, waving a hand dismissively at him. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”

He didn’t budge. “Please. Let me.”

That fuzzy feeling was back, and you pulled back. “Okay,” you whispered, your stomach swarming with butterflies as you watched him cover your planted potato with his hands. For someone who made a lot of jokes regarding human ethics, he was far more caring than he let on.

“Y’know,” you said softly, glancing over at him, “it’s really cool watching you do this, even if Tommy thinks it’s boring.” A small smile flitted across your face. “There are all these specific conditions that you have to know to have the most efficient farm with the best percent yield of potatoes—it’s honestly kind of surreal just how much brainpower actually goes into farming.”

Technoblade stared at you, his eyes reflecting something thoughtful and warm, and another thought popped into your head. You felt your cheeks begin to grow warm at the words swirling around your head. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you opened your mouth, again.

“I-I, um,” you began shakily, suddenly finding the scuff mark on your shoe very interesting, “I really hope you know how smart we think you really are. How smart I know you are. Because you are. Smart, that is.”

You must have been trembling, you could almost feel it. Why was it so hard to put your feelings into words? At this rate, you were never going to be able to confess how you felt. Just how much longer could you drag this out fo—

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, your lips parting as you looked at him in surprise. The moment his soft gaze met yours, a spark of electricity ran through your veins, and you shivered for an entirely different reason.

“Thank you,” he murmured, tilting his head at you. “I appreciate it.”

Suddenly, he squinted his eyes at you, his carmine gaze narrowing. “Oh wait, you’ve got something on your face,” he murmured, inching closer in to take a better look.

“Oh,” you said, a hand immediately darting up to your cheek, “that’s probably just some dust or soot or something. You know, from the mines.” You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, embarrassment shooting up your spine knowing that you probably looked dumb. “Did I get it?”

He frowned, pulling off his gloves as he leaned closer. “No, here let me just—”

Suddenly, his hand was on your face, your cheek held gently in his palm. Your heart came barreling to a stop, your entire body freezing like ice.

He was so close.

The pads of his finger were warm and calloused, yet they held a certain softness to him as his thumb slowly swiped just under her eye, careful to brush away the dirt that marred your face. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you found yourself unable to look away from him, hyperaware of the goosebumps that shot up your sides as his gaze met yours. A prince—he really did look like a prince.

For a moment, the two of you simply gazed at one another, a silent question hanging over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you opened your mouth.

“Can I say something kind of crazy?” you whispered.

“Of course,” he whispered, not moving his gaze from yours for even a heartbeat.

You sucked in a deep breath, screwing your eyes shut. “I…” You swallowed. “I really, really want to kiss you, right now.”

A moment of silence passed, and you held your breath, tension digging itself into your shoulders. Oh, I’m totally about to get rejected. This was such a bad idea. What was I even thinki—

“Can—” He started then stopped, and you could have sworn his cheeks were pink. “Can I say something even crazier?”

You heart leapt. “Yeah, totally,” you breathed.

He turned back to look at you, and you felt something deep in your chest click. “I really, really want to kiss you, too.”

Your eyes flew wide, and you couldn’t stop the giddy grin forming on your face. Almost imperceptibly, Technoblade dipped his head down close to yours, his crimson eyes darting across your face as he took in your every feature. As he leaned closer toward you, a question silently flashes in his gaze.

Can I…?

You smiled and nodded oh-so subtly, just for him to see.

Yes, yes, yes.

Ever so slowly, he leaned down toward you, and you felt your eyelids flutter shut. Just then, his lips met yours, soft and tentative like a deer taking its first, shaky steps. Electric ran down your spine at his velvet touch, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck and touch his cherry blossom pink hair. His crown tumbled to the ground off his head, rolling a few times before coming to a full stop, but neither of you particularly noticed, far too enraptured with one another to care.

This was everything you could have possibly asked for.

A moment later, you pulled apart, gasping for air as the two of you gazed into each other’s eyes. His hair had been mussed by your touch, his lips parted and puffy from the kiss.

You didn’t think he could look any more princely, but he still managed to prove you wrong.

Clearing your throat, you cast eyes away in shy embarrassment. “I feel like I should also clarify that this means I like you,” you added in a rush, fidgeting with your hands. “Like, way more than I thought I could ever like a person.”

Technoblade let out a sigh of relief, lips curling at the corners. “Oh, that’s good. I like you, too.” Your heart did a backflip in your chest, shouting in celebration as he added, “I was sort of thinking we were just gonna kiss and never talk about it, again.”

You shot him a quizzical look. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic.”

He sent you a crooked smile, but his gaze was fond. “Only kind of.”

You weren’t quite sure how many minutes passed in comfortable silence, both of you simply basking in the other’s warm presence. It was nice—this was nice. You wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while longe—

“—y it, Tommy, just say it!”

Your eyes shot wide open in panic. Across from you, Technoblade’s expression mirrored your own.

They were back.

“I’m telling you it’s okay, Tommy—you can call me ‘Wilby’ if you want to!”

Flailing your arms in a panic, you immediately began to backpedal to the other side of the room, Technoblade picking up his shovel and beginning to shovel as fast as he could.

“You’re still going off about this shit? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to call you ‘Wilby’, oh my fucking go—”

Wilbur crooned as they stepped into the garden room, “Aww, Tommy, my little gremlin.”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilbu—”

“B-Back so soon?” you prompted, pretending to have been looking at the potato field with great focus as you turned to face them.

Wilbur turned away from Tommy, the smile sliding off his face. He nodded with a sigh, adjusting the pack on his back. “We almost got to the portal, but Antfrost saw us, so we had to book it.”

Technoblade paused his movements, deadpanning with an unimpressed tone. “Tragic.”

Tommy scowled at him. “Don’t sound so cocky, bitch. You didn’t have to outrun like, half of the SMP all the way back here without getting tracked.” Suddenly his gaze shot to the ground, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “And why’s your fuckin’ crown on the ground?” he muttered, snatching it from the dusty floor and tossing it back over to Technoblade.

“No reason,” you said half a beat too quickly.

Wilbur’s eyes flitted back forth between you and Technoblade, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and Technoblade’s disheveled hair. Then, a sly, scheming smile crept onto his face. You gulped.

Oh, he totally knew.

“Tommy,” he said, the shit-eating grin still plastered to his face, “how do you feel about going on another trip with me?”

Tommy’s head whipped around, his eyes swimming with confusion. “Another trip?” he parroted.

Wilbur nodded, still smiling. “Yep. Another trip. Let’s get going, yeah? I’ve got something wonderful in mind.”

Before Tommy could even react, Wilbur had grabbed onto the handle of his pack, dragging him back and up the stairs. “Wilbur! What the fuck? Where are we even fucking going?”

“On a trip!” Wilbur sang as he trudged up the stairs with Tommy in tow. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, he sent you a knowing wink. “You two have fun, now.”

You gaped at him as he walked off, Tommy still kicking at his heels when they vanished from sight. A moment passed in silence before you turned to look at Technoblade, again.

“He knows,” you whispered, half in awe and half in horror.

Technoblade grimaced back at you. “Oh, he absolutely does.”

A beat of silence fell over you. Your eyes locked onto his carmine ones, and something seemed to click just then, a smile crossing both of your faces.

Indeed, Wilbur had just provided you with the perfect opportunity.

Who were the two of you to not take it?

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tipsydipsydo · 3 years

Text

The laundry hamper [M]

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut

AU: College AU!; Roommates2Lovers AU!; Friends2Lovers! AU

Warnings: Dirty Language + slight Dirty Talk; sweet and shy but naughty Jungkookie; Mentions of Masturbation in the shower; Scent/Smelling-Kink; Panty-Sniffing; Masturbation; slight Voyeurism; Teasing; Petnames; soft sub! Jungkook & dom! Reader undertones; Mentions of mutual Masturbation; Mentions of 69-Position

Summary: Jungkook has a crush on you since you moved together for college but the poor boy is way too shy to confess his feelings to you... rather he would search through your laundry hamper to get a shirt which smells after your very personal scent and tries to calm his racing heart... and other nerves. He didn’t thought to get catched by the person who already stole his whole heart in the most embarrassing situation...

A/N: Happy first year friendship anniversary with my dearest @borathae!! I love you to death my sweetheart and I thought today would be the perfect occasion to finally finish this Oneshot I started 10 months ago and waited to get finished until today on my IPad... especially because you was the person who gave me the inspiration to write this idea... I hope you like it!!

Status: halfway edited bc I was stressed I wouldn’t finish it on right time-

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「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

He knows it's bad and that he shouldn't do it. Well... honestly, already before this thought, which is haunting him since two weeks, he wasn't any kind of "well mannered" anymore. ...before you apologized for taking so much space with your shower untensils in the shower basket and then decided, to take your Shampoo, Conditioner and Bodylotion to your room.

The thing you didn't know was that you took with this decision, Jungkook's one and only opportunity to properly jerk off, with you.

Why?

God, just when the poor boy thinks about it... the thought alone gives him a rosy-red blush all over his cheeks, which almost reachs his ears and leave him completely flustered and ashamed.

How to explain it... your quiet, adorably awkward and super shy roommate, who has a crush on you since two years (or even longer!) tend to use your hair shampoo as a little "fantasy kick". How could he resist the opportunity to smell something so familiar which reminds him of you, so close?

How he used it you ask yourself?

While he was showering, he sniffed on the opened lid of the shampoo bottle like a fucking dog in his rut and jerked off to the smell of English Wild Roses. Yeah, even Jungkook himself is absolutely sure that he reached a whole new level of freakiness. Who else jack themself off while sniffing on a damn hair shampoo bottle?!

Jungkook has simply a thing for scents... especially for everything that smells like you. Whenever something of you comes in contact with his nostrils, he immediately pops a boner.

Really, it's not funny anymore when you feel that your dick is going hard just from getting a whiff of your crush's parfum when they're passing by.

Anyway, not your parfum or shower utensils are giving Jungkook a problem now, it's much more your laundry hamper which suddenly developts a really strong seductive affect on him.

Both of you having a seperate laundry hamper in the shared bathroom and also a laudry bag in your room. It's easier to have these two opportunities to put your laundry than walking always with an arm full of dirty clothes through the whole apartement.

Especially when friends of the other person are over and a pair of Kook's boxer briefs or one of your bra's found their way to the floor, unnoticed. Okay, 'unnoticed' as long as one of your friends are yelling that there is dirty underwear in the hallway. Of course not without dropping some stupid and teasing comments.

Yeah, it's really better for Jungkook's and your own peace to have a laundry bag in your room and a laundry hamper in the bathroom. Even when Kookie wouldn't mind it at all to be the one who would've found your lingerie...

...and that's the point. Since this one incidence with your dessous, Jungkook is haunted by countless absolutely filthy and indecent thoughts. At first he was still able to control them and to shove them away into the last corner of his mind. But after you took your shower stuff with you to your room, these fantasies returned really, really fast and his interest in your laundry hamper grew endlessly.

It absolutely didn't help that he pretty aware of the fact that you showered just a half an hour ago.

You made yourself ready to go to the movies with some of your friends. That means, he would be completely alone for the next few hours with the clothes you've worn before and are now own your very personal scent. How the hell should he survive this silently for him screaming seduction?!

Okay, okay, even when he'd took something off your hamper... just as a hypothetisch thought... it would be definitely only something completely innocent, like a shirt or something else. Really, he just loves to smell your wonderful personal scent. It's calming his wild racing heart... and in some way his unsatisfied desires as well.

Once again he takes a glimpse through the slightly opened bathroom door into the hallway which leads to the front door. Everything is silent, he is indeed completely alone in the apartement.

Now or never. Maybe he should take one of your worn out T-Shirts you always wear for house chores and isn't one of your favourite piece of clothing anymore. Maybe then you wouldn't notice that's even gone... for a longer time.

He shouldn't debate any longer before he reverses his opinion and pull back... he would slap himself if he'd let such an opportunity slip through his fingers unused...

As soon as he opens the lid of your laundry hamper, all his 'good and pure resolutions' are thrown out of the next bathroom window. Hebshould have guessed it, he should have known it... that your underwear is the last thing you take of your body before showering. Well, in conclusion, your panties are the first piece of cloth which is greeting Jungkook's eyes.

He's gulping harshly. Fuck, his brain knows that what he's doing here is bad and dirty, that he shouldn't do it... but his body and especially his dick is literally screaming and begging him to reach out for exactly this piece of lingerie.

Those tiny little wheels starts turning in Jungkook's head when he scans through your latest outfit. He remembers which Sweater and Sweatpants you wore. How could he forget those cute socks with this adorable avocado print on them.

...but no Bra.

Fuck... Jungkook can't explain himself why he finds the thought of you, being so comfortable in your shared apartement and around him, that you decided to not wear a bra underneath and let your tits bounce around freely, so god damn attractive...

Before he even realized it, his greedy hand took your used panties already out of the laundry hamper and lets the soft fabric slip through his fingertips.

It's a plain black cotton panty with a lacey border which has a beautiful flower pattern. Others would say it's boring, unspectacular underwear but for Jungkook it's already beautiful and beyond belief sexy lingerie. To imagine that you walk casually around in those panties everyday... Jungkook feels how his dick is already leaking precum in his boxer briefs.

With every second he holds this pair of panties in his hands, his poor, needy cocks hardens even more in his grey sweats. He gulps again. He shouldn't do it... but your panties are tempting him and his short patience.

Before he can control what he's doing, his nose is already buried in this piece of cloth and takes a deep breath.

If his other hand wouldn't already disappeared beneath his waist band and squeezed the base of his cock, he would've already blown his load right here in his sweats.

He's panting, his breath fast and ragged, trying to take as much as possible of your intoxicating scent into his lungs when he yanks his sweatpants down to his knees and lays his hand in a firm grip around his red, swollen and angrily leaking cock. He's literally dripping, so it doesn't take long until his whole palm is lubed thoroughly with his own precum.

Jungkook's mind is clouded, he can't built any proper thought anymore, your delicious smell makes him salivating and he knows, he feels it in every fiber of his body, that he already got addicted to the smell of your panties... your pussy.

He can't believe that you smell so good, like that fucking good that he almost blew his load already in his pants. Untouched.

His mind is spiralling, dirty thoughts get exceeded by even more filthier ones, every secret and forbidden fantasies which he hold under control for so, so long are crashing down on him.

God, what would he do to be the lucky person who gets you on top of him, queening him, his whole face buried into your pussy, your juices smearing all over his chin and cheeks and getting a good whiff of your perfect cunt first hand. He would happily die between your legs, suffocated by your thighs which you would've squeeze so tightly around his head that it would literally crushed him. He would die as the happiest man in the whole universe.

To imagine how you'd whine, whimper and growl at him... praising him for doing so good, pleasuring you so well, tugging at his locks because you can barely handle the pleasure you receive from his tongue and lips...

His fist goes faster and faster, his wrist will hurt so bad in the exam tomorrow... but that's Jungkook tiniest problem right now, he needs to cum so fucking bad, his balls are already hard and tight, feeling like they would burst if he wouldn't cum and time soon.

"Tz, tz, tz... what do we have here? I didn't thought you'd be such a naughty boy as someone who's so sweet and shy, Jungkook... sniffing your roommates panties and jerking off to them...", you snicker and smirk, even though bis back is still facing you. The later flinchs noticeably and lets a surprised and equally terrified yelp out, almost jumping around to you.

He's trying to save to situation and his pride, throwing your panties back into your open laundry hamper and pulling his pants up as quick as possible.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I am so, so, so, so sorry, it will never happen again, I am so sorry that you have such a disgusting roommate like me, I am so sorry, I didn't knew you'd come back so early again- oh fuck... I am so sorry, I am a disaster", Jungkook chokes out in a trembling voice and glassy eyes, a tiny little sob leaves him as well. He is truly ashamed and mortified to death.

Your heart breaks when you look at him, he looks so sorry and embarrassed, he couldn't look at himself in the mirror again. Slowly you start to shake your head 'no'.

"Oh Jungkookie, I didn't mean to shame you... I... I just was a little surprised to catch you here in the bathroom... having a little fun time with yourself... I realized halfway to the cinema that I forgot my wallet and I came back to get it... then I saw you and just wanted to tease you a little bit... ah shit- I think I just messed the things up as well... okay okay, stupid question from a stupid person who has a big, fat crush on you since months, if not even years... wouldyoumindmetohelpyoutocum?", you ramble nervously, now are your cheeks equally beet-red.

Jungkook's eyes shoot up to your face, your red cheeks, your big, questioning eyes and your lip biting is sending a new rush of exitement down to his softening cock, making him harden all over again.

"W-What? ...what?? You- you too? I-I am crushing on you since we moved in together and now you're telling me that you- ...oh my god, yes... yes... yes please... please help me. I am so needy and horny right now and your pant- you always smelled so good and it's driving me crazy... I am so horny for you, Y/N."

Jungkook couldn't control his blabbering mouth anymore, everything is just blurting out of him with such a force like the Niagara Waterfall.

You sigh in relieve and a bright smile is forming on your lips as you walk over to your crush and lay both of your hands on his cute and round cheeks, so you can look each other into the eyes.

"Jungkook, I would like to ask you if you're comfortable with the thought of me kissing you before I will... devour you?"

Just to hear the two words 'devour you' out of your mouth made his knees almost buckle. His head is moving by itself, nodding vehemently. But to his confusion you're shaking your head no.

"Babyboy, I need your verbal confirmation. Consent is key, alright?", you say in a gently yet firm voice.

Oh God, you'll be his death... calling him 'Babyboy' alone made a whimper slips past his lips which is why you hum very appreciately.

"Oh God, yes, yes, yes... please... please kiss me and devour me, Mistress- ugh, s-sorry, I- I didn't mean to say that", Jungkook coughs out all flustered again, don't dare to look you in the face.

Such a good, perfect babyboy he is already for you.

"Don't be shy, Baby... I like the title you gave me. When you like it, you can continue to address me with 'Mistress'. ...what about we change our location to your or my bedroom? I'd love to let you smell and taste my pussy... not just through worn fabric. I would take great care of your aching cock... I saw how swollen, red and leaking it was already. What about you eat me out while I take your cock into my mouth and jerk you off with the panties I wear right now. Hm, sounds good?

Jungkook's head is already spinning again when your lips finally meet, your mouth and tongue already taking the control over him and devouring him.

Yes, you'll be definitely the death for him.

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natsfirecat · 3 years

Note

Can I request one where reader has social anxiety and has a panic attack at one of Tony’s parties, Natasha x reader? Don’t worry if your not comfortable writing it no pressure

omg my first request ahhhhhh! :D

also this is perfect considering that ya girl had an anxiety attack at work the other day and all i wanted was to be comforted by nat </3

anyway, i hope you like it!!!!

First Party Troubles

word count: 724

"Y/N! Y/N!" You heard your voice called several times as you walked through the crowds of people.

You were the newest Avenger, and this happened to be your first time going to one of Tony's parties.

So many people you didn't know filled the room, almost clouding your vision.

You could feel several pairs of eyes burning onto you as you tried to find a clear space.

"Y/N," came a voice from behind you. "There's a lot of people asking for you in the next room over,"

Turning around, you faced Carol. She frowned as she saw the look on your face, then opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't get anything out as you dashed away from her.

Eventually, you were forced to stop as there was literally no room for you to get through.

You took a deep breath in, then balled your fists together. A knot began to form in your stomach as you felt multiple people brush past you.

Once you saw a space open, you took it and made your way through.

You heard your name called a few more times as you made your way through everyone. You kept moving until you found one of the bathrooms, where you slammed the door shut.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, still feeling your fists balled together tightly. Taking a few shaky breaths in, tears started to come to your eyes.

You weren't sure how long you sat there for, but a knock at the door broke your thoughts.

"Hello?" Came the familiar voice of your girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Natasha opened the door, expecting it to be vacant despite the lights turned on.

"Y/N!" She immediately said, seeing you on the floor.

She crouched down next to you, gently placing her hand on your back.

"Y/N, I'm here," she said softly.

She looked down, noticing how hard you were gripping yourself.

Keeping one hand on your back, she moved the other down to your own hands, placing it on top. As she hoped, she felt some of the tension in your fingers lessen.

She moved her position so she was looking you in the eyes.

"Nat," you managed to breathe out before practically throwing yourself at her.

You buried your face in her chest as she wrapped her arms around you tightly.

She held you for as long as you needed, letting you sob into her as she stroked your hair.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She asked as you slowly backed away.

You took a deep breath in, nodding.

"I've never done well at parties," you start. "There's just so many people, and everyone's doing everything, and I just feel so out of place. It's even worse now that I'm an Avenger. A lot of people were coming up to me, and I had no idea what to do so I just ran for it,"

She said nothing, but moved her thumb in small circles along the back of your hand, not breaking eye contact. So you continued on,

"I don't know how I'm gonna do this, if this is how I handled my first party as an Avenger. I don't know what to do, Nat,"

Another tear fell down your cheek, which was quickly wiped away by Natasha.

"You don't have to," she answered simply.

This time, she took both your hands in hers and placed gentle kisses on each of them.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Going to Tony's parties isn't a requirement for being an Avenger. You never have to go to another party again if that's what your heart desires," she said with a grin. "Of course, there are some PR events that might require us to show our faces, but you don't have to go to these parties. I rarely even go to them anymore,"

"Really?" You asked, feeling your lips curl into a smile.

"Really," she replied, returning your smile. "In fact, the only reason I came to this one is because I knew you were gonna be here,"

She almost fell backwards as you threw yourself at her again. You connected your lips to hers in a quick kiss as you crawled onto her lap.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," she said, standing up.

Together, the pair of you walked out hand-in-hand, never to be seen at a party again.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel #avengers

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witch-hazels-musings · 3 years

Note

Can I request how Lisa and Sucrose would react to there long time female friend confessing romantic feelings for them? and maybe like first date ideas?

i’ve always loved you

Warning -> SFW, fluff (kissing)

Character X FM Reader | Anthology

Includes: Sucrose, Lisa

Sucrose

She’s so shocked! She honestly wonders if she really understood you? What you just said to her cannot be accurate, right?

“Sucrose … I like you.” You state, your eyes moving from her and down to the thumb you’ve been clenching in your fist for a while now.

“ ...w-what? Oh, you mean l-like as a friend? Well, I am quite fond of you too.” She’s clearly flustered and since she either didn’t seem to get your first confession, or was playing it off as a joke, you try again.

“Not like that, I have feelings for you.” Reaching out to her arm you hope the connection will make the confession more clear. The color of her cheeks turn bright pink as she comes to realize what you meant, and the reaction that follows is so adorable you think you’ll die.

The bottle in her hands slips from her grasp as she exclaims and pulls her hands to cover her mouth. The crashing bottle splatters around your feet while she takes a second to register all of these things happening at once.

“Ah! I’m s-so sorry … let me g-get something to clean it up … with …” She turns around and grabs a nearby towel but you’ve already started on the mess by the time she returns. “N-no let me get that, it was m-my mess.” Her hand extends toward the glass but you capture her fingers before they can reach. Elegantly, you pull them to your lips and give them a quick peck before letting her take control of them again.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

She’s so flustered, how is it that someone like you can like someone as unprepared for love as her - she just cannot understand

Her heart is pounding so hard in her chest, her mind is going a mile a minute and all she can think about how incredible you look in front of her

She wants to reach out and touch you, but her hand is still so hot from where you kissed

You finish cleaning up the rest of the glass before dumping it into the garbage bin. Looking down, Sucrose hasn’t moved from her crouched position and you hope your confession didn’t totally ruin the relationship you had with her.

“Listen, I know that was sudden. I just … I don’t know,” You rub the back of your arm and squeeze the skin there. “I have liked you for so long and I really wanted to tell you … anyway if you don’t feel the same or whatever you …” “NO!” She shoots up and catches you off-guard.

“Oh … okay…”

“Oh no, I mean … I’m sorry, I like you ... “ Clasping her fingers together and pressing them against to her legs, she avoids your gaze but bravely continues, “more than a f-friend. I like you, too.”

Archons, she’s so cute? You can’t hold back anymore and with emboldened confidence you lean forward and press your lips against her hot cheek. She practically explodes, a huge gust of wind erupts from her and knocks several more things off the counter, papers scatter, containers shift, and unconfined specimens are lost on the wind.

“Ah … I’m sorry.” She covers her face and you respond with giddy laughter.

“Cute.”

You love to watch her get excited and to know she likes you back? Well, you are just over the moon

Your first date idea is something you know she will enjoy. You want to make sure she is comfortable and so the first thing that comes to your mind is taking her on a little adventure - somewhere she can explore, someplace to study or conduct research - if she smiles that’s all that matters to you

“Look at this!! I’ve only ever seen this species in books. I wonder if the season and weather have an impact on it’s growth cycle.” She bent close to the plant, her fingers cupping ever so gently underneath it as not to disturb its existence. She was always so generous, be it people, animals, or plants she was the kindest person you had ever met.

“You look like you were meant to be here.” You express, taking up space at her side.

“Really? I just really love to unearth secrets. When I finally get the answer to a question that’s been on my mind, I feel exhilarated by the accomplishment. Perhaps, I should ... adjust my excitement?”

“I will never hold you back in your love for research, that’s why I choose this location for our date.”

“Ah! Yes, this is a d-date. You’re right, what should … what do we do on dates?”

“We are doing it right now.”

“Are we …?”

“Yes, are you having fun?” You asked, tracking her gaze with the movement of your head, your question light but important.

“Yes!”

“Then perfect, the date is going well.” Her face shifts hues and for the thousandth time today, the word cute runs through your mind.

Lisa

She already knows - she’s known for such a long time and is honestly impressed that you had the guts to finally tell her your true feelings

Lisa is wildly observant, she has to be in order to stop people from slipping one too many books into their bags without following the rules of the library. So, she’s clearly picked up the different ways you act between her and some of the other people you commonly interact with

She especially can spot the discrepancies between her, Kaeya, and Jean. When you talk to Kaeya, his flirtatious, forward jokes fall to the ground without any reaction - you might play back, if you’re feeling cheeky, but your face never shifts

When you talk to Jean and she leans in close to you, you act as if it’s anyone on the planet, a twig will make you react more than she does - but when you are around her? You become a stuttery, fidgety mess, and if she ever makes a more pointed joke - ;) - you practically shut down

You find her standing in front of row after row of books, her arm extended above her as she reaches to place a returned book back onto the shelf. She’s so elegant, and when she is in her element she’s the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You didn’t know that someone could have such an impact on you.

“Lisa?” You call out to her, respectful of the rules of the library. She turns and already your heart is racing. “Do you have a second?”

“For you my dear, I have all the time in the world.” She holds the remaining books against her chest, and, even though she’s wearing her hat, you are still transfixed by the face that’s partially hidden.

“I wanted to tell you this for a long time … is it okay if we talk here or…?” She chuckles, placing the books on one of the tables and walking toward you. The smell of dark roses pressing against your nose as she enters your space.

“Here is perfect, cutie. What do you want to share with me, hmm?” She’s a bit taller than you so when you find yourself looking at her face it’s almost always drawn to her lips.

“I’m sure … well, no .. I mean I know that you’re … ah how do I …”

“Take your time.” She reaches for your hair and the closeness of her wrist to your face breaks you.

“I like you!” You practically shout, covering your mouth in your hands at the realization of your outburst. Slipping your head further behind your fingers you hide your embarrassment from her.

Instead of scolding you, or reminding you to be quiet, she laughs and the sound is so lovely it pulls you from your hiding place.

“I was wondering when you were finally going to tell me your little secret.”

“You mean, you knew?”

“Of course I knew, I’m very observant and I can’t keep my eyes off of something so adorable, now can I?” She laughs again, her fingers sliding along your jaw and toward your chin. There she lifts your head and moves in for the kill. Her lips connect with yours and it’s electric, you wonder if she somehow sent a shock of her vision through the contact. As she pulls away, her smile is so grand you close your eyes again.

She is honored to have your affection, and she will absolutely lord that over everyone - she has the most prized book in all the collection, if you let her explain her admiration for you - hopefully, you can handle her

Now that she has chosen you, you want to show her experiences that will always remind her that she made the best choice. You’ve taken her to libraries and bookstores that are hidden from most people's eyes. You’ve gone on adventures to explore ancient domains and ruins in search for historic knowledge, you even traveled to Liyue to meet the ever knowledgeable consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. You were greeted with warm tea and unending information.

Now, you’ve brought her to the vast fields which surround Mondstadt, the two of you nestled under the stars each keeping the other warm. She feels so good resting against you, her back pressing firmly into your chest as she relaxes under the night sky. You can push your face into her hair and tighten your grip around her as you relish the notion that she is yours and you are hers.

She’s shared with you her knowledge of the stars, the things she’s read in books and how impactful they are. Lisa has pointed out all the constellations to you and you’re sure that no matter how many times she shares this information you’ll never tire of hearing her voice.

“Oh look, a shooting star. It’s customary to make a wish, so I’m told.” She presses further against you and practically squeezes out your words.

“I don’t know what I could possibly wish for other than you.” She turns and looks into your eyes and you kiss her passionately as if hers are the only lips you will ever taste again.

#genshin impact #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact fiction #genshin impact musings #lisa #genshin impact lisa #genshin lisa #lisa x reader #sucrose #sucrose x reader #genshin sucrose #genshin impact sucrose

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ibis-gt · 3 years

Note

*slides you 37 pennies* how would luther handle trying to go on a public date with cam (movie, restaurant, etc.) with the whole… affection turns height to no.

had two requests for this one so here u go! luther does his best to keep it together for date night. 2750 words, warning for brief mention of violence in a movie and some hanky panky between consenting adults. not explicit, just a little spicy.

~~~

Four months into their relationship, and Luther has more of a handle on things now.

He’s got the size thing totally under control. He hardly ever shrinks just because Cam looked at him anymore. He can take a compliment like a champion. Those soft, sweet, gentle smiles that spread across Cam’s face like molasses? Barely make him lose an inch. Physical contact? He’s… still working on that one.

But at the very least they can have date nights in public now, as long as Cam behaves himself, and Cam is quite willing to behave himself. Most of the time.

It’s a snowy Saturday night in December, and they’ve got a date planned. Cam will pick Luther up at eight, they’ll go have dinner at a local sushi place, watch a late night special feature from the 80s, and then come back home for some wine and light snuggling before bed. An absolutely perfect night, if Luther can make it through enough of it full-size.

He’s still debating his outfit when a gentle knock at his front door heralds his beloved’s arrival. Five minutes early as usual.

“It’s open!” Luther calls. “C’mon in and help me choose, will you?” He’s standing in his bedroom in a pair of black slacks with the horrid green jumpsuit undone and tied around his waist, staring critically at his two choices of top. A lovely turquoise turtleneck, or a stylish electric blue button-up. The floor creaks behind him as Cam ambles in. “Which one do you think is better? I guess it depends on what you’re wear - eep!”

Luther squeaks and jumps as Cam presses his lips to Luther’s neck, big warm hands sliding up his arms to rest on his bare shoulders, sending an involuntary shiver down his spine.

“Both look nice,” Cam murmurs in his ear. “But I think I like the blue one better.”

“C-cam,” Luther whines, his face going pink. “If you keep this up we’re not even going to get out the door.” The hands remove themselves, and Cam pulls back, chuckling.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. All that exposed real estate, you know.” He lets out a perfect wolf whistle. God damn him. Luther glares over his shoulder and folds his arms, letting annoyance take over.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks, and you’re going to ruin it,” he pouts. “Go on, out. Wait in the living room if you’re going to be like this.” Cam puts his hands up in a placating gesture and retreats, but that damn smile doesn’t leave his face. Luther tosses his hair and huffs, secretly proud of himself. He didn’t even lose a half inch. He turns back to consider his options.

Well, if Cam is so focused on his neck tonight, that sweater might be the better option to afford him some protection. But he said he liked the button-up better… It’s lighter than the sweater so it won’t keep him as warm, but that means he can steal Cam’s big coat later on. The turtleneck would completely cover the green jumpsuit, but the blue of the button-up actually compliments it nicely. Luther nods decisively. The button-up will be perfect.

He dresses quickly, gives himself a final once-over in the mirror, unbuttons his top button, and heads out to see Cam. His boyfriend - his boyfriend! The thought still sends a thrill through him - has picked up the cat, Scrunge, and is stroking her head, making little baby noises at her. She purrs in her usual way, fast and loud, like a revving motorcycle. Cam sets her down when he sees Luther and sighs happily.

“You look fantastic,” he says.

“You clean up pretty nice yourself.” Luther crosses the room and fondly brushes a loose strand of hair behind Cam’s ear. Cam’s in a dark grey v-neck shirt and black suit jacket, slightly tarnished silver cufflinks adorning the sleeves. He’s got his big heavy winter coat draped over one arm so he doesn’t overheat in the relative warmth of the apartment. Luther sneaks a covetous little glance at it before grabbing his own shabby coat off a hook near the door.

He bends down to give Scrunge a goodbye scritch behind the ears. “Behave yourself while I’m out,” he tells her. “No tearing around the place and knocking things over.” She meows plaintively. Luther retrieves her bag of treats and gives her two as a bribe, which she accepts happily.

“Okay,” Luther says, straightening and shrugging on his coat. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Cam says, and takes his hand.

They walk to the restaurant. No point in searching for parking, it’d take longer than just hoofing it anyway. It’s been snowing on and off throughout the week and piles of dirty slush cover the sidewalk. It’s cold, but Luther’s coat is keeping him warm enough for now. He and Cam hold hands as they walk to the restaurant, and Luther doesn’t even shrink a little bit. His chest swells with so much pride he thinks his feet might leave the ground.

The place is only a little busy, so they have a short wait before they’re shown to their table. They get their usual orders. Luther prefers simple rolls and nigiri so the taste of the fish is front and center, while Cam likes to get the complicated, loaded rolls for the variety of texture and flavor. While they wait for their food to arrive, Luther fills Cam in on Scrunge’s latest reign of terror in his apartment, and how much it’ll cost to fix the cracked frame of the painting she’d somehow managed to knock off the wall in her frenzy to catch the fabled red laser dot.

The food arrives. Cam offers Luther a taste of his rolls - he’s gotten something deep fried with cream cheese, cucumber, and crab, and another loaded high with four kinds of fish, topped with roe. Luther tries the one with all the fish, but passes on the deep fried one. He trades Cam a piece of mackerel nigiri. Then he continues on talking, telling Cam about his week, how work’s been, the new guy they hired, and the annoying new habit his coworker’s formed of singing along with the music on the jukebox, regardless of whether she knows the lyrics or not.

Luther suddenly catches the look in Cam’s eyes. There’s something… hungry in them. It’s the only way he can describe it. It’s not regular hungry, because he’s practically ignoring his food in favor of listening intently to Luther’s rambling story. He’s leaning forward, arms folded on the table in front of him, drinking in every word Luther has to say. He’s hungry for him. The realization hits Luther like a truck and he stops mid-sentence, jaw dropping, a blush starting to spread across his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cam asks, innocent as ever. How could he even know the effect he has on Luther? How could Luther ever explain?

“N-nothing, um, I… I’ve been talking a lot, why don’t you take over for a bit? What’s keeping you busy at work?” It was delightful to listen to Cam ramble on about his job. Luther barely understood a word of it, but his enthusiasm was adorable and, importantly, not about Luther. He could keep it together and breathe a bit, work on calming down the scramble of emotion in his gut.

Sure enough, he wins himself a good fifteen minutes of calm while Cam talks on about carburetors and mufflers and manifolds. He could be making it up for all Luther knows. It’s not until Cam realizes his deep fried roll has gone cold that he breaks off to eat. They finish their food, decide to pass on dessert, pay, and head for the theater.

It’s only a few blocks away, a fifteen minute walk at most. The night has gotten a little colder and darker, and now stray snowflakes drift and spin through the air, catching the streetlights and twinkling like stars. Cam has a lot of fun pretending he’s a dragon, his warm breath turning to steaming clouds in the freezing air. Luther’s shivering now, his old secondhand coat doing little to protect him from the chill. Cam notices, of course, and whips his own coat off in an instant.

“Oh, please,” Luther demurs, “You’re so chivalrous, but really, I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking like a weathervane in a hurricane, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, I’m my own space heater.” Cam arranges the coat over Luther’s shoulders neatly and slips his arm around Luther’s waist, pulling him in close. It’s so warm and so nice, and so very, very close. Luther’s shivers slacken and cease, and then one more shakes him, different from the rest.

“Oh no,” Luther whispers, “I was doing so well, please…”

Luckily, he only loses about three inches. His clothes are a little looser, and he’s engulfed a little more by Cam’s huge coat, but he’s still a perfectly normal height. He sighs in relief.

“So what’s this movie we’re seeing?” Luther asks, trying to take his mind off of things.

“Oh, so it’s this old sci fi cult classic based on a book no one’s ever read. I saw it the first time when I was like… eight? And it scarred me for life, really, and now I’m obsessed with this shit. The special effects are super gnarly, and they hold up okay, even though you can totally see the tube for the fake blood in the decapitation scene. Don’t worry too much about following the plot, it’s not really the point of the movie, but what you should know ahead of time is…”

Cam rambles on like that, filling the night with fog. Luther snuggles in closer and listens happily, totally at ease. He made it through the most important part of the night, and once they get in the theater, he can relax. It doesn’t matter if he shrinks in the theater - from what Cam’s said, the only people watching this late-night special feature will be die-hard fans who’ll be glued to the screen, and in the darkness they won’t have to worry about anyone catching sight of them.

That also means, of course, that Cam might get a little handsy once the lights dim. If he’s being honest, Luther would be disappointed if he didn’t.

They get a seat in the back row. As the previews start up, Cam reaches over and takes Luther’s chin in his hand, turning it gently so they face each other. For a moment, he just holds them there, staring into Luther’s eyes with an adoring softness that makes Luther’s heart sing. Then he leans in and kisses him, just once, softly on the mouth. Luther shivers and loses another few inches. Cam lets him go, but Luther’s not satisfied. He grabs Cam’s collar and pulls him down for another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier. Cam chuckles against his mouth and nips at his bottom lip, catching it between his teeth for just a moment. Luther sits back heavily in his seat, breath coming in shallow gasps. He grips his armrests tight, trying to pay attention to the trailer for the newest slasher flick as it blares out through the theater. No dice. He’s losing height fast now, shrinking down to four feet tall, his normal clothes hanging off his frame.

They stay apart for all of a minute before Cam’s hand sneaks across the seat and slides into place on Luther’s thigh. He strokes his thumb back and forth in a slow rhythm, humming happily. Luther gasps and shrinks more, staring wide-eyed as Cam’s hand covers more and more of him, soon easily encompassing his entire thigh.

He’s maybe two feet tall now and he can’t see the screen over the seat in front of him. Cam glances down, catching the pouting, grumpy look on Luther’s face, and presses a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Here, sweetheart,” Cam murmurs, and picks Luther up with one hand. With the other, he frees him from his clothing so that he’s only clad in the jumpsuit. Cam settles Luther gently on his lap. This has fixed the problem of not being able to see the screen, but only momentarily. Luther goes bright red and dwindles down even further. By the time the previews have finished, he’s only eight inches tall.

As the opening theme blares with discordant trumpets, Cam pinches the back of Luther’s jumpsuit between thumb and forefinger and lifts him up. He dangles Luther in front of his face for a moment, expression torn between adoring and apologetic, then brings him in close for a gentle kiss. He sets Luther on his shoulder and hands him a piece of popcorn.

Luther hides his burning face behind the buttery morsel. He’d been expecting a little hanky panky, but nothing so direct. Stolen kisses, maybe a fake yawn that disguised Cam putting his arm around Luther, a little playing with his hair. Going for the thigh like that… that was entirely unexpected. He’s beginning to suspect Cam was trying to get him tiny.

The movie is just as gory and weird as promised. Luther isn’t super squeamish, but more than once he turns and ducks his face into Cam’s neck, squealing in disgust, his voice quiet enough at this size that he doesn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone else. Every time, he feels Cam shake under him with silent laughter, enjoying Luther’s reactions.

The movie ends before too long, and the other theatergoers file out, chatting animatedly with one another about the flick. Cam holds his hand up to his chest, and Luther pushes himself off Cam’s shoulder, landing gracefully in his palm. Cam sets him down on the armrest while he folds up Luther’s discarded clothing and tucks it in an inner pocket of his big coat. He looks down at Luther and tilts his head to one side, lips pursed in a calculating expression.

“You’re just a little too big to hide comfortably… here, let’s fix that.” Cam puts his elbows on either side of Luther on the armrest and looms over him, completely blocking the dim theater lights overhead. Luther takes a few involuntary steps back and bumps up against Cam’s hands, linked together behind him to form a ring penning him in. “You’re all mine now,” Cam breathes, quiet as a whisper. “So tiny and cute. I’m going to put you in my pocket and carry you home, and then… well, then we’ll see what I’ll do with you, hm?” A crooked, meaningful grin spreads across Cam’s face, and that hungry look comes back into his eyes.

It works like a charm. Luther’s legs shake, his heart pounds, and he shivers. He dwindles down to half his height, a mere four inches.

“There we go,” Cam croons, and scoops him up in one hand. Cam stows him safely in his coat pocket, held in a loose fist to keep him safe from jostling and the cold. He exits the theater and moves through the crowds easily. People tend to make way when they see a man his size coming towards them.

Luther curls up against Cam’s fingers and sighs happily. Cam’s hand is warm, calloused in places but soft in others, and the pocket sways gently with his gait. It’s so safe and cozy, combined with the late hour and the exhaustion of the day, it’s the perfect recipe to knock him out. He fights the heaviness of his eyelids as long as he can, but only makes it a few blocks before he’s fast asleep.

~~~

“Whew, cold one out tonight,” Cam says as he unlocks the door to Luther’s apartment. He can already hear Scrunge wailing on the other side. “I hope you weren’t too frozen in there.” He pushes the door open and addresses the cat. “Yes, we’re home, hello darling, we missed you too.” She winds around his legs and purr-meows at top volume. “Okay, okay, other people are trying to sleep,” Cam hisses. “You’re gonna wake up the whole floor, shitty kitty.” She mrrps in disapproval.

He pulls Luther out of his pocket. “So, babe, do you wanna - oh.” The little dear is asleep, snoring softly. Cam smiles and presses a kiss to his chest. He takes a seat on the couch, sighing as he plops himself down. Scrunge leaps up into his lap immediately and puts her front legs up on his chest, sniffing at Luther in his hand.

“Poor dear’s all tuckered out,” Cam murmurs, giving her a scritch. “Let’s let him rest.”

#asks #writing #cam and luther #gulliver's hanahaki #g/t #giant tiny #hit post before i remembered tags exist oops

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bugrry · 3 years

Text

take his breath away.

yeah its a cheesy title ik </3 anyway lets get into the smut <33

warnings: oral (m receiving), face-fucking, hair pulling, degradation, name calling, swearing, asthma, me being obsessed w the pet name “pup”

word count: 1,630

send a request // add yourself to my taglist // here’s my masterlist!

You swore that Harry could probably hear how fast your heart was beating right now. Your hands were roaming each other’s bodies, running over the extremely familiar expanses of skin. You broke away from the heated kiss, looking down at his bare chest and running your fingers over his tattoos.

He whined when you broke away, and you responded only by cupping his face. You leaned back in, and he closed his eyes in anticipation of a kiss, but you leaned past his lips and whispered into his ear.

“Can I do something for you tonight? Give you a treat?”

He whimpered at your quiet question, and you saw his throat bob with a hard swallow, “What- what kind of treat?”

“Don’t act stupid, H. I think you know what I’m talking about.” You giggled, moving to run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

His eyes darkened, and an air of dominance returned to his being, “Maybe I do, but maybe I want you to tell me.” He said, his voice low and gravely. He brought his hands up from where they had previously been resting on your waist and moved up to grasp at your jaw. Your eyes widened at his near bruising grip, “Nevermind. I don’t want you to get to thinking that you’re the one in charge here. That never has been and never will be the case. Get on your fucking knees.”

As he says this, he pushes you down to the ground by the grip he had on your jaw, and you land on the hardwood floor with a pained whimper. At hearing this, Harry’s eyes softened, and cupped your jaw gently to get you to look up at him.

“You’re okay, yeah? Do you need a pillow?” You shook your head, almost nuzzling your jaw into his palm. He smiled at this, “what’s our safeword?”

“Volkswagen.”

“And if your mouth is occupied?” You felt your core warm at his words, but you reached up to his thigh and gave it three taps with your fingertips. He nodded at you, and his eyes hardened once again. “Now be a good girl and pull me out.”

As you got to work unzipping his pants, you began to rub your thighs together in anticipation. You thought it was inconspicuous enough as to where Harry wouldn’t notice. Sadly, he did, and he pushed the tip of his boot in between your thighs. You whimpered at the direct contact to your clothed clit, but it was only momentary, as he used his boot to separate your thighs.

“You were going to try to get off just from taking my cock down your throat weren’t you? I shouldn’t have expected anything different from a slut like you, for fuck’s sake.” He returns his boot to your clit, pressing almost uncomfortably hard. “Only I get to get you off, do you hear me? This is my fucking cunt. You don’t touch it. Got it?” You nodded, but he merely tsked and shook his head. “Words, pup. Before I put that fucking mouth to some real use.”

“Yes- yes, I understand.” He merely raised an eyebrow, and you felt your breath hitch, “yes sir, yes sir, I understand.”

“Good girl. Next time, catch yourself before you fuck up, alright, sweet girl?” He smiled softly, but there was nothing comforting about it. “Know you’re just a dumb little puppy, but I’m sure you can handle that, right?”

You nodded, and he removed his boot from between your thighs. You released the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You returned to your work on his jeans, undoing the button, and with a hearty swallow, pulled the zipper down. His Calvin Klein boxers stared back at you, almost as if they were begging you to pull them down. You felt Harry wrap his hand around your hair, pulling it to that you were looking up at him.

“Any day now, baby. Thought you were desperate for it?” He said, tilting his head mockingly, furrowing his brows.

“I am, sir! I promise!” You said, not wanting to lose your chance to have him in your mouth.

“Are you? Then pull out my fucking cock.” He said, releasing your hair for a moment before pulling at it again, “Today, puppy.” He released your hair for a final time, and your scalp burned from his grip. You worked quickly to pull his cock out, not wanting to be chastised for it a second time.

The moment you’d pulled his aching cock from its restraints, Harry had let out a sigh of relief. You didn’t waste any time in wrapping your lips around the spongy head of his cock.You started out by sucking gently on it, but soon enough you removed your mouth from his tip.

Before Harry had the chance to grumble about the loss of contact, you returned your lips to his cock, this time in the form of soft kisses down his shaft. You placed a kiss to each of his fern tattoos, and you heard him hum contentedly. You started kissing your way back up his shaft, and his hand returned to the back of your head. He wasn’t forcing anything, just as a comforting presence. Finally you wrapped your lips around his cock, sucking more urgently. At this, Harry let out a soft groan and moved to run his fingers through your hair.

Before he could, he felt your head move out of his grasp as you took almost all of him down your throat in one go. This time, Harry let out a choked groan and grabbed onto your hair for support.

He applied more pressure to the back of your head, pushing you down until your nose rested just above the base of his cock. You looked up at him with teary eyes and swallowed around his thick length. “Fuck--angel, I love nothing more than watching you cry on my cock. Keep going, puppy.” With this, he released your hair and let you go back to what you were doing. You begn to bob your head back and forth, and before long, you’ve reached your hand up to play with his balls.

During all of this, Harry was above you, whispering things like good girl and my perfect little slut. This only made you suck harder and faster, and soon enough you began to hear his breath grow heavy.

After a few minutes of this, you took your mouth off of him, replacing your lips with your hand as you lean down to suck at his balls.

“You’re such a good girl, you never forget the balls. I’ve taught you well, haven’t I?” You hummed in response, sending vibrations through Harry’s entire being, almost making him double over in pleasure. “Baby I- I’m close-- I’m so fucking close.”

You smiled, removing your mouth from his balls and placing it back on his tip. You brought your hand back down to replace where your mouth had been mere moments ago, and began to suck urgently at his cock once again. After a bit, you grew bored, and you take the hand the Harry had on the back of your head, and press it harder into your scalp.

He gets the message and begins pistoning his length in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. Harry was grunting and groaning, grumbling your name repeatedly.

“Baby- puppy-- I’m gonna cum, where do you want me to cum?” In response, you removed Harry’s hand from the back of your head and held your lips at the base of his cock. You reach under his length and press on the space just behind his balls. With this, he lets out a wanton moan, and you moan at his pleasure. Finally, you feel his cum flood your mouth and you swallow it as quickly as you can.

After what feels like an eternity, he stops cumming and you release your lips from his cock, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to show him you’d swallowed it all. He smiled, laughing tiredly before you heard him wheeze out a few breaths.

“Baby-” You noticed your voice was raw so you gave yourself a chance to swallow before trying to speak again, “baby, are you okay? What do you need?”

At this point, Harry was really struggling to breathe. He was pointing in the general area of his bag, and as much as your hips ached, you tried your best to make your way over to it as quickly as possible. You dug around in his bag for a few seconds before your fingers wrapped around the cool plastic you’d been looking for. You pulled it out and raced back to your panting boyfriend, who was now sat on the bed, hunched over, with his pants around his ankles. If you hadn’t been so worried at the moment, you may have giggled at him lightheartedly, but for now you were guiding his inhaler into his mouth and dispensing the medicine as your heart thumped in your ears.

Once you saw his muscles relax and heard his breathing clear up, you sighed and flopped back onto the bed. You let him catch his breath for a moment before speaking up.

“So…” you started, “was that because of me, or…” you trailed off, looking up and meeting his eyes, which were nowhere near as dark as they had been earlier, and nowhere near as panicked as they’d been seconds ago.

Harry huffed out a weak laugh, and pulled your body close to him.

“You’re lucky I almost passed out just a minute ago, because if I hadn’t, you’d be in for the longest night of your life, pup.”

...

idk if i like the ending? lmk what you think besties ily

harry taglist: @tpwkhenu @summerstylesx @sarcasticallywitty15 @strawberryystyles @ji5hine @harrysdimple05 @teenmagazine @iwanttobekilledtwice

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry x reader #harry smut #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader smut

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whythinktoomuch · 3 years

Text

Tentatively stepping through the doorway, Lena was greeted by the natural wintry gleam of the Fortress of Solitude. She had only been there that one time all those months ago, but the surroundings appeared familiar enough, seemingly burned into her memories as a particularly difficult flashbulb of an experience.

Cold. Dimmed lighting. Wide open spaces that gave off the illusion of emptiness despite holding some of the most important secrets to be kept in the world.

And in the middle of it all, stood Kara Danvers, still dressed in her Super regalia, staring off into the distance like little else mattered.

“Kara.” Lena rushed forward, the clack of her heels bouncing off the polished walls in an anxious rhythm that rivaled that of her heart.

Kara looked over, blank expression slipping slightly. “Lena?” she murmured, sounding surprised, though not at all startled. “How’d you get out?”

“… Out?” Lena echoed, but Kara didn’t elaborate. Maybe the disconnect was to be expected though, and there were more important things at stake for the moment, so, “Kara, you need to come back.”

“Back.” Kara chewed on the word, tasting the implications like they weren’t quite to her liking. Then she gave a single nod. “Oh. I see.” And with that, Kara turned her back on Lena and walked right off, right into the distance that gradually converged into a yawning doorway.

Lena had no choice but to chase after her. “I know why you’re doing this, Kara. And you have to know that it wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

Kara didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. Her silence was already speaking volumes just by stretching on and on, running parallel to the seemingly never-ending hallway.

“Will you at least explain what you’re doing here?” Lena demanded, her patience eaten up by a sense of urgency that was somehow eluding Kara. Time was of the utmost importance—that much had been impressed upon her repeatedly and emphatically before she made this journey. “Look, I’m not going to leave until you talk to me.”

Mild amusement flitted over Kara’s features as she looked back at Lena. “How’d you even get here?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

Then when Kara made no move to continue their conversation, Lena sighed in exasperation, “I have my ways, okay?”

“Of course you do,” Kara said easily. “I’m just… surprised that they’d send you, of all people.”

“I volunteered to come. Well, I insisted anyway.”

Kara glanced back at her again, expression now unreadable. “We’re not even friends anymore,” she said, matter-of-fact, no malice intended or needed. “We haven’t talked for—what—six months? I guess what I’m trying to say is that, you wouldn’t have been my first pick.”

“And I’m sure the many people who were opposed to my coming here would agree,” Lena said, but Kara didn’t take the bait, falling silent once more. “Where are we going anyway? What’s down here that’s so important that you have to see it right now?”

Kara took an abrupt left turn, and the hallway opened up just as abruptly into an endless series of shut doors, all evenly spaced out along either wall. Each door was fashioned with its own nameplate, which was of little interest to Lena until she started recognizing the names. By then—trailing behind Kara, passing by doors that read James, Winn, Kal-El, and a few with lettering that could only be Kryptonian—it became all too clear why they were there.

Lena’s sense of purpose was renewed, however, when Kara walked right past a door labeled Alex without slowing. “Wait, that’s where we have to go,” she called out in realization. “We need to get to Alex, right? Right, Ka—Kara! Hey, where are you going?”

But Kara evidently wasn’t listening, her stride only cut short upon arriving at another door altogether. The door was plain and simple enough, except in that it was one of the very few without its own handle. The name Mon-El was etched into the dull gold, just barely catching in the light at eye level.

“They disappear sometimes,” Kara said. “The doorknobs, I mean. Well, the doors too, but there’s always another to replace them so… it’s hard to keep track.”

Lena tried her best to not acknowledge the predictable twinge of nausea that twisted in her stomach. “What’s in there?”

“When I could still open it, I’d just see his spaceship disappearing into the horizon.” Kara shrugged. “I’m sure there were other things too, but it’s been years.”

“… Kara, let’s get back to Alex’s door,” Lena said, clearing her throat, ridding herself of any lingering pangs of unjustified jealousy. “It still has a doorknob, so we can still get in there, right? That’s what that means?” But Kara was ignoring her. Again. “Are you even listening to me right now?”

“You say that to me a lot in here.”

And just as Lena was about to ask what the hell Kara possibly could mean by that, she noticed yet another door, just a bit farther down the hall, literally with her name on it.

“You can go in there, I think,” Kara continued, shrugging again. “There aren’t really any hard and fast rules here, but that might be the only door you can open without me.”

Lena, inevitably, took a pause.

Her door appeared more intricate the longer she studied it. The rich, glossy oak with accents of rose gold. The plumerias carved into the wood at every corner. A touch of cursive to her name, lovingly engraved across the polished nameplate. It had a delicate padlock that looked more decorative than practical, but Lena already knew that it would fall away for her, if she wanted.

Admittedly, it took a rather lengthy moment for Lena to successfully tear her eyes away from the door. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Well, there isn’t much else I can give you besides that,” Kara said, promptly moving on, venturing deeper into the hallway that only opened up to more and more hallway with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of doors.

“Kara, stop…” Lena abandoned her door to chase after Kara again. “I’m serious,” she pleaded, seizing Kara by the elbow, tugging insistently. “Let’s go through the Alex door. We can go together.”

Kara shook her head, shaking her arm when Lena refused to loosen her grip. “Let go,” she snapped, eyes briefly flashing red, and Lena unfortunately flinched away from her. Huffing hard, Kara then pivoted away, slipping through the closest door and Lena slipped in right after her before it could swing shut.

The whole world was on fire.

Proud buildings coming down in flames. Air condensed into a thick black smoke. Everyone dying around her…

Coughing, Lena was immediately forced to press her sleeve to her mouth and nose. The door was nowhere to be seen. After a more thorough survey of her surroundings, she finally noticed a slumped figure in the relative distance. It was hard to make out anything in the light of the fading red that made up the sky, but who else could it be? Lena made her way over.

Thankfully, Kara wasn’t too far. She was just sitting atop a darkened precipice, arms around her knees as she watched the world die before her.

“This…. is Krypton,” Lena said as she realized. “Kara. You can’t stay here. This can’t be healthy…”

“And you, of course, would be the resident expert on keeping healthy habits,” Kara said, and her sarcasm didn’t even need a bitter tone to land.

And that about settled it.

Lena grabbed a piece of smoldering debris—still warm, somewhat spongey, surely not fatal—and lobbed it as hard as she could at the back of Kara’s head.

The projectile bounced off harmlessly enough, but Kara slowly turned around, eyes widened. “Ow…?” She pressed a hand gingerly to the back of her head, no doubt still tender from the blow. “What are you doing? The sun isn’t yellow here!”

“None of this is even real!” Lena snapped, and to prove it, she lifted a much larger piece of debris that normally would have buckled her with its mass. When she sent that hunk of rock sailing through the air, Kara finally demonstrated some life and dove out of the way.

“What the hell, Lena?” Kara said, some frustration and thus vigor breaking through the monotony. “What are you doing here? Why did you even come?”

“I want to see what’s behind Alex’s door!” Lena threw back, just as frustrated and then some. “What is this, Kara? Behind one door, you see your home planet imploding. Behind another, you see the man you loved leaving you forever. So, what the hell could possibly be happening in the one for your sister? Whose life, by the way, is still hanging in the balance, in case you forgot.”

Kara huffed, whirling away. “That’s none of your business.”

“You made it my business by fucking off to wherever this is,” Lena said, fighting to maintain eye contact as Kara tried repeatedly to turn her back on her. “You made it my business by making me come after you! So, just do me one fucking favor, and just tell me—”

“I kill her.”

Lena fell silent, blinking, the soundtrack to her sudden hesitation coming alive in the sounds of the world burning up around her.

“I kill her in there. Over and over and over again.” Kara’s words were falling out like she couldn’t stop them, an outpouring of shame and relief rolled into one. “She dies by my hand, only to die all over again, and again, and—”

“Okay, I get it,” Lena hastily cut in. “Well, no. I don’t get it, get it, but… what do you mean you kill her? How…?”

Kara covered her face with a sharp exhale. “Lots of ways! Heat vision. Super strength. Sometimes I’m just throwing her off a building. Other times, I’m choking the life out of her with my bare….” She broke off, voice drying up. “I don’t want to go in there, okay? Stop asking me.”

“Kara, this… this is ridiculous,” Lena eventually sputtered. “Alex isn’t dead. She’s hurt bad, yeah, but how could you possibly give up on her when—”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Kara said flatly. “Because if not now, it’ll be some other time. She’ll die, and it’s going to be all my fault.”

“But what happened to her isn’t your fault.”

Kara sighed, heavily and exhausted, and suddenly she looked every bit the lonely woman who’d lost everything in a way only few people have. “Lena… Everything down here’s my fault.”

Her entire body sagged then, and she was back on the ground, curled up and watching the horizon again. So, Lena just walked over and sat next to her.

Everything was steadily plunging into darkness. There were more cracks ripping apart the earth than there were buildings, people, or even life in general. The fire climbed higher and everything was smothered in smoke, but all Lena had to do was consider taking a clean breath of air, and she could.

“What happens when it’s over?” Lena asked.

“Just starts up all over again.”

“Okay then.”

After a while, when the sky was too obscured to distinguish from the ground, Kara directed her gaze to her own feet. “… You ever think about what yours would look like?”

“My mind palace, you mean?” Lena asked, and Kara nodded. “Oh, I already know. Boxes.”

Kara exhaled a dry chuckle or two. “Boxes? That’s it?”

“Maybe some filing cabinets too. Just to keep everything organized,” Lena said, and she was mostly joking, but also not. “Boxes just always worked for me.”

“… Is there a box in there with my name on it?”

Lena blew out a breath, shakily laughing at the self-evidence of it all. “Of course there is, Kara.” Maybe even more than one, though they didn’t have to get into that now, or ever.

“Do you want to know what happens behind your door?” Kara asked haltingly, gaze still dropped.

“Not at all. I’m sure whatever it is, I’ve imagined much worse on my own terms,” Lena said, and Kara kinda laughed again, but wouldn't disagree. “… You know what happened to Alex wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Might as well have been. Should’ve been there.”

“You can’t be everywhere at once, Kara. That can’t be expected of anyone, even Supergirl.” And when Kara gave no indication that she was listening, Lena continued with a sigh, “If Alex could be here, she’d say the same exact thing. Though I’m sure she’d include some Midvale lingo and much more swearing.”

“What’s Midvale lingo?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be above using it right now.”

Kara didn’t laugh this time, just nodded solemnly before asking, “How long have I been in here?”

“You’d been out for almost six hours when I made my way over.”

“Did Alex improve at all while I’ve been gone?”

“That’s not really a thing you can tell just by looking,” Lena said vaguely. She didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to give Kara any reason to stay behind.

But Kara looked at her like she knew exactly what Lena was trying not to say. She’d always been so good at reading Lena, or maybe Lena had always been so bad at hiding things from Kara. Either way, if only it had been vice versa, maybe they’d be on better terms now.

“I don’t want to come back just to watch her die. I’ve already done that too many times in here.”

“If she does die, you’re going to regret not being there.”

The ground underneath them started to crumble and come apart, falling in on itself, and Kara watched it happen with disinterest while Lena just watched Kara. But eventually, finally, Kara seemed to come to a real decision because she carefully took Lena’s hand in hers, and Lena let her.

“… Thank you for coming,” Kara said quietly, barely audible over the world falling apart.

“Thank you for coming back.”

They watched the last of the world collapse around them, swallowing them up in a pitch darkness.

Lena jerked awake with a gasp in her corner of the room, but everyone was by Kara, clamoring around her, greeting her with words of worry and such. And Lena just nodded to herself because everything was back to being how it should.

She disengaged the electrodes and pulled the wires off her head, and Brainy appeared by her bedside to help her remove the last of it.

“You were successful,” he said. “I knew you would be. You had the best chances of getting her out of that state, though 67% of the people in this room did think differently. But thank you for bringing her back.”

“I didn’t do a thing,” Lena said honestly. She glanced down at her watch out of habit, and the numbers blurred and made little sense to her weary brain, but it was time to leave. That much was obvious. “It’s late. I should get going.”

“You don’t want to talk to Kara?”

Lena looked over, and just past Nia’s shoulder, she saw Kara staring right at her. “I think she has better things to do tonight,” she said, stepping into her heels, neatly pulling her hair into a tidy bun. “Please give our hero my best, and… keep me apprised of Alex’s condition as well.”

Pausing on her way out, Lena threw back one last glance. Kara was still staring at her. Her mouth was moving and answering questions as they were offered up by the people around her, but her eyes would only meet Lena’s from across the room. Kara half-raised her hand in a subtle gesture, and Lena took the wave for what it was and turned on her heel to leave, refusing to entertain the persistent itch to look back the entire time.

#post-reveal/fallout but pre-make-up sc is where i Live #not sure what this is but it sure is a thing huh #ALSO THE NEW POST LIMIT WOULD HAVE TOTES KNEECAPPED THIS; had to turn off the beta version to post!! >:(#i hate!!! >:(((#my words.

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

you’re excused

wordcount: 2.6k

warning: hinting at smut

_______

After another late night out, the group of four stumbled into the pizza shop they frequented regularly - Sophie leaned on Rafe, Colin was walking like he hadn’t had a drink all night, and James was leaning on the other side of Rafe, like liquid when he was drunk. Rafe fished his AmEx out of his pocket like usual and slid it across the counter, authoritative. “Hey man, how’s your night? We’ll take a large pepperoni.”

The cashier shrugged, pointing to the sign on the register. “Cash only, dude. Sorry man.”

“Damn, cash-only? Since when?” Colin lamented, turning to leave the pizza shop.

“Oh!” Sophie’s face lit up. “I know what to do.” She went to pull up the hem of her tank top and Rafe grabbed her insanely quick, arms wrapped tight around her chest. “Absolutely fucking not, Sophie.”

“I’m just using my assets!” She protested, squirming in his grip. He kept a tight hold on her, practically frog marching her out of the shop.

James laughed, shaking his head. “Bold move, Soph. I appreciate the effort.”

“Not in a million fucking years.” Rafe grumbled, holding her tight.

“This is blatant misogyny.” She argued, trying to wrestle her way out of his arms.

He didn’t let her move an inch. “By not letting you show your tits?”

“Yes. They’re great tits, the world deserves to see them.”

“Good god.” He sighed, only letting her go when she stopped moving. “No. Only I deserve to see them.”

“No, dude, I think she has a point. That sounds pretty misogynistic to me.” James pointed out, only for Rafe to sock him in the arm.

“Don’t ever talk about her tits again -"

“I wasn’t technically talking about her tits, I was talking about the concept -"

As the two started to wrestle, Sophie slipped back inside the pizza shop. She found three dollars in her pocket and gave it to the cashier, then returned with two large slices of pizza, handing one to Colin. The boys stopped wrestling abruptly when they saw the exchange. “Hey, wait, I want one.” Rafe protested.

“No. You didn’t let me show off my boobs.” She replied primly, taking a large bite of the pizza.

“You didn’t - Sophie. No. You didn’t.” He glanced back and forth between her and the pizza shop, confused.

Sophie grinned, strolling forward to link arms with Colin and kept walking, with no response.

Colin smirked and leaned down, whispering. “Are you gonna tell him you found cash or should I?”

“Nah. He’ll get over it.” She shrugged and tapped her crust against his. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

Rafe jogged to catch up, walking next to the two of them. “Wait, I want some. I’m hungry too.”

She made a show of taking a big bite. “Mmm. I’m sure you are. It’s really good, Rafe.”

He frowned. “Can I have the crust at least? You never eat the crust.”

“I dunno, this crust is really good this time.” She replied. “Are we still going to my place?”

“We’re going to your place?” James chimed in, unsure. He nearly tripped over his feet as he tried to shove himself in on the sidewalk so they walked four across. “I wanna go home instead.”

“No, you two aren’t coming.” Rafe shook his head, then looked to Sophie for confirmation. “Right?”

She finished the majority of the pizza and handed the rest to Rafe, holding back a smile at the grin that lit up his face. “Yeah, it’s just us. Unless you guys want to…?”

“No, we’ll go home.” Colin nodded up at the upcoming intersection. “This is us anyways, we’ll see you ‘round. James, this way, buddy.”

“Bye!” James waved, peeling off with Colin. Once they were out of sight and Rafe finished the pizza, he glanced over at her, unsure.

“You didn’t really flash that guy, did you?”

“Might have.” She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters.”

“Okay. No, I didn’t, I found cash in my pocket. I would have though.”

“I know you would have.” He grumbled. “How drunk are you?”

She squinted, holding up her thumb and her pointer finger close together. “Only a lil’ bit. We can still hook up, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “You have to stop calling it hooking up. We’ve been dating for nearly a year.”

“Eleven months is not nearly a year.” She retorted, checking her hip against his. “What do you wanna do?”

“We’re still sticking to that November date instead of Halloween? Huh?”

“Yeah. We are. What position?” He could tell she was drunk because she spoke a little too loudly, her tongue slipping over some of her words. “We could do reverse cowgirl, 69 - we haven’t tried that, um -”

“Sophie -”

“Missionary, I guess, but that’s kind of boring -”

“Jesus, Soph, please shut up -”

She raised her eyebrows, stepping in front of him to cut him off. “Excuse me?”

He sighed and reached into his pockets, adjusting his shorts, and was thankful it was dark enough to hide his situation. “You’re excused. Can we go home?”

Her eyes flicked down to below his belt and back up to his eyes, with a smug grin. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“Sophie.”

“I bet you wouldn’t even last if I go down on you. You’re so predictable.” Sophie smirked, knowing she was pushing Rafe to his limit.

He reacted instantly, reaching out and catching her forearm and pinned her against a parked car in the alley, caging her in around her head with his forearms.

She inhaled sharply, caught off guard with wide eyes.

He grinned, leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “What was that?”

“Um. I, uh, I don’t know.” She stuttered, feeling her knees go a little weak as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.

“Something about me being predictable?” He supplied, giving her a kiss on the cheek then pulled away like nothing had happened. “Hm?”

She took a moment to compose herself, swallowing hard. “You’ve done that before.”

“No I haven’t.” He argued, taking her hand.

“You have.” She nodded, slipping her hand into his. “Halloween, when I finally told you how I felt.”

“You remember that?”

“I remember every damn detail of that night.” She replied with a grin, her eyes bright. “You combed back your hair but had one little strand out of place, it kept falling into your eyes on top of your glasses. When you kissed me I was almost convinced to hook up with you right then and there but I was afraid I’d ruin it and you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

“Sophie.” His tone took on a serious edge and he slowed their pace a little so he could look her in the eye. “No matter what had happened that night, I knew I had to find a way to keep talking to you after that class. Hell, I’d have settled on going back to arguing every day if I meant I’d still get to see you.”

She blushed, grateful they made it to her house and even more grateful her roommates were back at the bar. “You’d still fight with me?”

He nodded, punching in his code to let them in. “I would.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, about the stupid shit we always fought about.”

“Give me an example.” She stepped close, trapping him in between the kitchen counter and her body.

He held back an amused smile at the way she tried to take charge. “Like how you think you can get away with grinding on me at the bar with no consequences. Or how you leaned across the bar, with this top so loose and low cut that I can practically see your nipples right now, so the bartender would give you free drinks. Twice.”

She noticed his eyes darkened a little and she stood taller as a sly smirk spread across her face. “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Better not be.” He flipped positions with her quicker than she could process what was going on, lifting her up onto the counter and slotting himself in between her legs. “I don’t want anyone else even thinking they have a shot with you.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctually. “I can’t help it if other people flirt.”

“You can not encourage them.” He kissed her hard, his hands immediately going to her waist. “Twirling your hair, doing that thing where you try to look all innocent with me - yes, exactly, that -”

She grinned, biting her lip as she blinked up at him. “I’m not doing anything, Cameron.”

“You absolutely are, Flint.” He growled, slipping his hands under her ass and lifting her off the counter. “You and your fucking bedroom eyes.”

“You do it more, you know.” She informed him with a smirk. “You smolder.”

“I smolder?”

“Yes. Your eyes just kind of...linger on me, then you meet my eyes, and then you lick your lips. Sometimes you’ll rub the back of your neck too, and I’m pretty sure that’s just so you can show off and flex your arms.”

“None of that is intentional.”

“Well it works.” She laughed, yelping as he started walking up the stairs. “I can handle myself -”

“You shouldn’t have to.” He cut her off with a kiss, biting her bottom lip. “Fucking tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” She insisted, breathless as he gripped her ass a little tighter, pressing her against the wall at the top of the stairs. “Fuck, Rafe.”

“Yeah?” He kissed her again, running the tip of his tongue along her lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“You taste like pizza crust.” She mumbled, laughing when he pulled back with a quizzical expression. “Sorry. Sorry. Got distracted.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, carefully setting her down. “Fine, I’ll go brush my teeth -”

“No!” She grabbed his wrist as he moved to walk down the hallway. “C’mere. Need you.”

A slow smirk spread across his cheeks as he stepped back in her space, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Yeah? You need me, baby?”

She bit her lip, staring up at him with wide eyes as she nodded.

He slowly stepped forward, gently pushing her up against the wall as he slid one of his thighs in between hers, his chest touching hers with every rise and fall of their breath. “Tell me.”

“Tell you…?” She echoed, hands going to his waist.

“Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

Sophie blushed, breaking eye contact. “Rafe, I’m not gonna -”

“Fine, then I won’t touch you.” He replied, raising his hands as he backed away with a smug smile, but he barely got back before she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, yanking him down to her level so she could kiss him, hard.

“Stop, fuck, you’re teasing.”

“I’m -” He pulled back just enough to lift her up, tapping the back of her thighs to signal for her to wrap her legs around his waist. “Fuck. M’not. Just wanna hear you.”

“Oh, you’ll hear me.” She promised, sucking a spot against his neck. “You’ll hear me, baby. All night.”

He paused, breath catching. “I kinda have a work meeting at 8am tomorrow -”

Sophie laughed, pecking his lips. “You know damn well when I say all night I don’t mean it.”

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, got it. Okay, fuck, keep saying sexy shit to me.” He exhaled, nodding quickly as he strode into her room and kicked the door shut behind him. The door slammed especially hard and she winced when he dropped her to the bed.

“C’mon, Cameron, door’s gonna jam now.”

“Don’t care. I’ll figure it out. Take your shirt off.”

“Demanding.”

“You like it when I’m in control.” He pointed out, grinning when she let him tug off her crop top and unbutton her jeans. “Okay, c’mon, hips up.”

She obliged, lifting her hips and helped wiggle the denim down her legs. He pressed kisses down her thighs as he tugged them off, grinning.

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“I know.”

He just laughed, pulling back to tug his shirt over his head. “I love your confidence.”

“I love you.” She replied, moving a little up the bed.

Rafe beamed ear to ear, fumbling with the button on his corduroy pants. “I’m never gonna get tired of that. Ever. Fuck. Will you?”

“Will I get tired of it?”

“No, my -” He gestured helplessly at his stuck button, yanking on his pants. “It’s these new pants you convinced me to buy, I look like I’m straight out of a fucking Ralph Lauren ad.”

“Oh, so nothing new.”

“Sophie -” he sighed, exasperated, but cut himself off quickly when her fingers teased under the waistband of his boxers. “No, keep going.”

“Magic word?” She tugged him forward, pushing his pants down to pool around his ankles until he kicked them aside.

“Suck me off?”

“Rafe.”

“Oh, sorry. Please suck me off?”

“Rafe Cameron.” She rolled her eyes, flicking his abs, and got up on her knees on the bed then pulled him down to kiss him, hard.

“Sophie Flint.” He grinned, running his fingers through her hair. “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“Keep that up, really does wonders for my ego.” She breathed out, moaning when he tugged on her hair a little. “Fuck. I need you.”

“But I wanted to -”

“Rafe.” She pleaded, looking up at him with doe eyes, and that was all he needed to reach into his nightstand and grab a condom.

“Okay, okay, hold on -”

“We don’t have to -”

“Yes, we have to, you nearly broke up with me last time we didn’t -”

“I did not -” Sophie huffed, exasperated. “Are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Fuck you? Baby, I’m gonna -” He grinned, making Sophie roll her eyes before he even opened his mouth again, and sang, horribly off key. “I’ll make love to you…like you want me to…”

“You’re so weird when you’re drunk.” She giggled, grabbing his hand to tug him onto the bed, shaking her head as he stood there, completely naked, singing way louder than he should have been for nearly 3am on a Sunday.

“You love it. Love me.” He insisted, letting his full weight fall on top of her as he pinned her to the bed.

Sophie grinned, grabbing his chin so she could kiss him properly. “I do.”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” He replied with a grin, kissing her hard and slow, swiping his tongue against her lips.

“Stooooppp.” She whined, blushing. “Get in me already.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He smirked, gripping her hips. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t know why you’re dragging this out when you could literally be fucking me right -"

“Making love -"

“Okay, Romeo, whatever you say -"

He laughed, clearly not concerned about time, and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Please fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

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#FUCK i love this photo so much he's so hot #rafe x sophie #mine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #outer banks #outer banks fanfic #obx fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #frat rafe #college rafe

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plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

Bedtime Stories

Digger Harkness x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2046 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Getting a call from Belle Reve for a reason you would never expect

——————————————————————————————————

You sighed, entering the cold, clinical building again, not even bothering to address anything else other than what you’d come here for.

Frankly, you weren’t happy about having to be here.

While you agreed for the benefit of everyone involved, you were sure that if Amanda had only listened to you in the beginning, you wouldn’t be standing here right now.

She had made the decision to avoid all of your professional advice, including him in her little circus anyway.

It was wholly unprofessional.

If she had only listened to you at the start of this, none of you would be in this position, having to fret over some unruly inmate or horrific threat.

You were on sabbatical.

After all the work you’d done at Belle Reve in the time you’d been there, you deserved a break. It was hard work that took a huge toll on someone after years and years of constant exposure, having to process the most psychologically damaged that society had to offer.

As much as you enjoyed being a psychiatrist, it wasn’t the sort of career that was carefree and easy to do.It took a lot out of you, and some time off was sure to do you some good.

You had been working in Gotham City for years at this point, and you were really good at what you did.

The least the city owed you was a few weeks off the clock, but of course, that was too much to ask. From the second you opened your eyes this morning, your vacation was already over.

Your phone was buzzing on the side table by your bed, alerting you to the fact that Colonel Rick Flag was attempting to contact you. It wasn’t altogether strange, as you had spoken in the past, but it wasn’t commonplace either.

You had only dealt with one another on a few occasions, in the deciding meetings and calls over the so-called Suicide Squad.

In the early days of discussion and the decision making, they wanted to consult you to make sure it would be safe.

Which, for the record, you knew that it wasn’t.

The eclectic group of ‘bad guys’ Amanda Waller had decided on were impossible to control and unpredictable. There would be no way to make sure they wouldn’t go off the rails.

Though, when it came down to it, there was nothing you could do to stop them even though it was obviously foolish. In the grand scheme of things, you were a shrink, and nothing more.

They didn’t have to listen to you.

Not that they actually acted as if you were so low on their priorities list, as evidenced by your standing here now.

“Flag? What is it?” you hummed, not bothering with formalities or meaningless pleasantries. You had always found those sorts of things to be pointless, especially in a place like this.

Whatever it was he needed from you, it wasn’t small talk or to check in with you.

Naturally you assumed something terrible had happened, and in Gotham City, that wasn’t too bad a bet to make.

There was always something on fire.

...And that wasn’t necessarily wrong today either.

Flag hadn’t given you a ton of information on the phone before you arrived this morning, but you knew enough to make your guesses.

What Waller had proposed was more or less releasing a ticking time bomb into the public and while it seemed to have gone off without a hitch at first, you were sure that this had something to do with it.

It had to.

The members of the ‘Suicide squad’ were the biggest thing to happen to Belle Reve since it opened, and if they needed to call you back from your break, it was surely about that.

You weren’t an idiot, even if they sometimes acted as if you were.

All you could do was hope that whatever it was, you would be able to go back to your nice relaxing leave before too long.

A few hours weren’t going to kill you.

“Captain Boomerang is acting out, causing problems for the guards, and refuses to eat” he allowed, getting down to the purpose of this meeting just as quickly as you had, confirming what you already knew.

If it was going to be any one of your patients, you weren’t shocked it was him.

Digger Harkness had been a patient of yours since you began working here, one you explicitly advised Amanda Waller to avoid recruiting. You knew better than anyone that he didn’t play well with others.

He was prone to violent outbursts, childish behavior and overall insubordination. All in all, she couldn't have picked a worse adjusted, combative individual.

Unfortunately for you, you weren’t surprised he would be the one to pull you away from all your rest and relaxation.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, that’s going to be a problem”

You were painfully aware.

While most of the other inmates involved in the foolish adventure Captain Waller manned had been cooperative about their reincarceration, there was nothing they could do to buy his silence.

More than anything, he wanted his freedom and a coffee machine and some supervised visits wasn’t going to cut it. She’d given him a taste of freedom and you knew that he wasn’t going to adjust well to being back in a cell.

Really, you didn’t know a single person that would.

Of course he was acting out.

What you were less sure of was why they thought you would be able to do anything about it. There was nothing you could say or do that was going to be any different whatever they had already tried.

“And what do you want me to do? Read him bedtime stories? I seem to recall telling you all to leave him locked up” you huffed, sort of upset that he would ever suggest it.

You didn’t want to clean up the mess they’d made when you had been telling them from day one that it was a bad idea. However, you knew no matter how much you argued, you’d be doing it anyway.

There wasn’t anyone else that Digger would listen to, even you understood that.

“He’s been asking for you since they brought him back” Flag shrugged, not interested in anything more than getting the rest of the higher ups off his back. They had sort of put him in charge of this after everything.

He treated the inmates as equals, and in general, they acted better under his watchful eye.

With the ever growing exception of Digger, who Flag still referred to as ‘Captain Boomerang’ something you couldn’t have been more tired of. Something like that would only further feed into his delusions of how important and grand he was.

Besides, it was incredibly immature.

“Fine, I’ll talk to him, but no guards. If there are guards, he won’t even talk to me” you suggested, knowing that he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on you.

No matter how desperate Digger was, you both understood that he’d have no chance of getting out in this lifetime if he killed you. So, it was a safe bet that if they wanted any kind of result, they had to do what you said.

If they had any other options, they wouldn’t have called you out of your much deserved vacation. Clearly, You were their only hope if they wanted him to stop being such a huge pain in the ass.

“No guards, if you’re sure?” Flag agreed finally, hoping that you would be able to do something about him.

The man in front of you was already on the verge of putting a bullet through the former’s skull, which wouldn't look good for him. Even if it would be easier than having to listen to him.

If only it would be as easy for you as just having to decide on whether or not you needed guards.

Dealing with Digger was never that simple.

The sound was practically deafening as you approached his cell, that constant yelling and cackling you could have done without hearing today.

He’d gotten bad.

In the time since you’d last seen him, he was going downhill, no doubt brought on by the small taste of freedom he’d been granted at the hands of Agent Waller. She had given him just enough for him to spiral.

Which meant that this visit was going to be even more unpredictable than normal.

“You know you can’t keep me locked up here forever, eventually, I’m gonna get out!” he rambled on, throwing out as many empty threats as he could, as soon as he could think them up.

It wasn’t like he had anything to lose.

Though, constantly threatening to break out of a maximum security prison wasn’t necessarily the healthiest coping mechanism he could have chosen.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that” you called, just far enough away from the small slat in the cell door for him to see who it was who’d come to see him, not that he had to see your face to know.

Digger would have recognized that voice anywhere.

He hadn’t had the privilege of seeing too many people since his incarceration, and he certainly wasn’t going to forget a face as pretty as yours.

“I didn’t know you were coming to see me today, sweetface” he countered, immediately changing his approach now that he knew you weren’t just some nameless guard coming to spit insults at him.

That was normally what they did in response to his tantrums. Though, if that was what brought you here, he definitely didn’t regret being such a royal prick about it.

He’d missed you.

He hadn’t been expecting a visitor, as Flag assumed this would be handled better as a surprise, but he knew it was you nonetheless.

You were his favorite shrink, if nothing else, something Digger told you frequently on your weekly visits. It was a pleasant surprise, even just getting to hear you.

“You didn’t give the guards much choice. Flag here was gonna have you hosed down until you stopped your yammering” you sighed, finally closing the space between where you were standing and his cell door.

You could only imagine how tired both Flagg and the guards were of the Aussie’s mindless small talk and babbling.

“Hello Digger” you greeted, looking between him and the armed guard at your side, still heavily debating this whole thing.

Looking him in the face was different from speaking to him from across the room, where he couldn’t see you. Now, there was no telling how much further he would push this.

You knew how much Digger liked to flirt with you, tossing compliments and remarks at you like he wasn’t a noted criminal. Every week, he always had some other romantic and likely vulgar thing to tell you.

It was hardly appropriate, given your standing, but it wasn’t as if it could be avoided, especially now.

You hadn’t seen him in months, and there was no telling what sort of state he was in.

Though, you knew that If you wanted results, he responded much better to honey than vinegar.

“There she is. How’re you doing beautiful?” he cooed, once he got a good look at you through the bars of his cell. You looked just as stunning as you had last time he’d seen you, if not better.

Clearly, even the few days you’d gotten away had done you good.

You ignored him for a moment, turning your attention back to the guard. Whatever it was they thought you’d be able to do to convince Duggar to stop being insufferable, you knew he wasn’t going to talk to you with a guard around.

It just wasn’t his style.

“You can go ahead and take a break. I’ll call if I need anything” you decided, you knew Digger well enough to know you weren’t going to get anywhere with the guards supervision.

This was just going to go much smoother if you didn’t have to worry about anyone else being involved.

The man looked unsure for a moment before nodding, deciding that ultimately it wasn't his job to babysit you and whatever happened, it wasn’t his problem either.

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afriendlyblackhottie · 3 years

Note

Could you write something with daddy chris and overstimulation? Maybe as a punishment, she gets a rough fucking, and it because a little much. It feels so good that she starts crying and maybe he doesn’t let her cum?

Rag Doll

Summary: You’d been a tease all day and Steve realizes that the only way to beat you at your own game is to play it.

Parings: Steve Rogers x bratty!Black!Reader

Warnings: smut, swearing, teasing, daddy kink, overstimulatation, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, manhandling

(A/N: I know this said Chris, but I got Steve Rogers’ bad ass in my head. I hope that’s okay. Anyways. Like and reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @harrysthiccthighss @iam-laiya @olyvoyl @zaddychris @donutloverxo @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @queenoftheworldisdead @hqneyyincc

——————————————————————————

You hadn’t meant to be a tease. Honestly. Sometimes it was like you couldn’t help yourself. There was something about him that made you want to act bad. Normally he didn’t make too much of a big deal about it. He was used to it. Until tonight.

You’d pushed your luck. Steve usually didn’t mind putting up with your attitude or the way you teased him. Today you’d been wearing him thin. No one knew about your affair which made it way more fun when you teased him relentlessly.

Today, though, he had enough. You’d early on informed him that you were not wearing panties underneath your very short baby blue dress. At some point you’d even sat across from him and did that thing where you shifted in your seat, exposing yourself to him. That was the first strike.

Then you’d gotten all close to Tony which of course he was going to look down your dress when he got the change. Giving the billionaire a full view of your cleavage. That was strike two.

It was when you maneuvered in front of him while he was in the kitchen getting a protein drink that you’d crossed the line. Rubbing your ass against his crotch and then when you noticed that no one else could see, you grabbed him much his sweats. Palming at his length. Strike three and he was done.

When he finally told you to cut it out, you’d mocked him and giggled. Maybe you thought it was a joke. He didn’t know, but he wasn’t playing with you. Even when he’d given you that look you didn’t let up.

Not until he pushed you over the counter so he could spank your cute little ass. “You think you’re being cute, Bubbles?” He grumbled in your ear. “Thought I wouldn’t do anything back, huh.” He did it again.

Except this time he’d made sure to dip his fingers into your cunt from behind. Going as deep as he could. Your jaw had dropped because you never thought Steve Rogers could ever do something like this in such an open space

You felt frozen as he pulled his fingers out then smoothed out your dress so it covered you again. Of course with his super solider hearing he could hear Sam, Bucky, and Natasha approaching even when you were more preoccupied.

And he didn’t let up. During dinner he made sure you were cornered off from everyone else so that he could play with you under the table while everyone else remained unaware. Then made you sit next to him with a blanket covering your lower halves during movie night. Where he again played with you underneath. Every time not allowing you to cum.

When you’d finally managed to escape to your room, fully intending on using your toy to get yourself off because your big mean daddy wouldn’t do it. Except he was hot on your heels even slamming the door behind himself. “Not so fun when I’m doing it to you?” He mocked with a smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

“Oh now you have an attitude?” He asked with his eyebrow raised and head tilted to the side.

You didn’t say anything as you went to lay down on your bed. “Can you go?” You asked with a yawn. “I’m tired.”

“No. I’m kind of having fun with this,” he said, joining you.

It happened so quickly. When he’d forced your legs apart until they were bent into the air. “Hey!” You tried to stop him except he was much stronger than you.

“What have we talked about?” He asked, not waiting for a answer before finishing his question, “That Bubbles isn’t allowed to deny Daddy her body, right?”

“But, I’m tired,” you whined out the lie.

“I don’t believe I asked,” he replied before pushing up your dress until it was bunched around your waist.

“Hey!”

“I thought you liked teasing, Bubbles?” He asked trying to mock the pout you always did to him. “Can’t handle it now?” His fingers rubbed went back to your clit.

Fuck you were soaking wet. The way he was working your pussy was making you move your hips for a little more contact. “Daddy,” you whimpered. “Please.”

“Please, what?” He asked. “You wanna cum? Wanna squirt all over my fingers. Want Daddy to make you cum?”

You nodded. He was making you so hot. “Yes, please.”

“Well, I’m not sure if you deserve it,” he said, taking his fingers away.

You groaned in frustration as he stood up so he could pull off his clothes. Just because he wasn’t going to give you any didn’t mean he couldn’t get himself off. He got back on the bed kissing you just. Fingers going back to your cute pussy. He rubbed your clit just the way you liked.

He pulled off of you to reach into your nightstand so he could grab your toy. “Now I want you to be a good girl for me. You do not cum until I tell you, too.”

You nodded, gulping because although he could get rough, this was a first. As he flipped the switch to press it against your clit you felt lightheaded. You were already feeling like it was all too much. “Please?”

“No and don’t ask again.”

The vibrations were making you cry out. Legs bent with your feet pointed as you laid on your back. You could feel your orgasm so damn close.

Then he switched it off.

“Hey!”

“Patience, Bubbles,” he said, coming to rub your now swollen clit. He grabbed your legs then bent you back again, wrapping his arm around your thighs before slapping your pussy.

“Ah!” You shrieked. “Daddy!”

He didn’t let up this time either. Didn’t listen to your pleas for him to stop. Instead he slapped your overly sensitive cunt more before leaning forward to soothe it with his tongue.

At first you pushed up trying to look because seeing this man eat your pussy was one of your favorite sights. You laid down just wanted to enjoy it. Hopefully you could cum this time.

“Oh my god,” you made the mistake of saying making him look at you and pull away. “Daddy, please!”

He got on his knees by yanking you to him so he could finally push into you. “See this is why you shouldn’t be a little tease,” he whispered in your ear. “You see what you make Daddy do. Daddy doesn’t like not making his Bubbles cum, but you haven’t done anything to earn it.”

He went so deep inside of you rolling his hips until you were completely filled up. Your Daddy’s big dick hitting every spot as he started to really fuck into you. Your pussy tightening around him until you were sure you were finally going to be able to cum all over him.

Until he changed up his pace. Now he was moving really slow until your orgasm had went away. The sensitivity didn’t. Your poor puffy pussy.

“Please,” you whined.

All he did was chuckle, not changing it up. Your cunt was clinging to his dick. As he started going hard again you cried out for him. This time, though, he didn’t let up. Now he was slamming his dick into you. Holding your legs so you had no choice but to take every single thick inch.

Your fingernails grabbed at his strong arms. Scratching at his skin. You wished you could leave marks on him.

Every time you thought you were going to get close he’d change up the rhythm of his thrusts. It was driving you crazy. All you wanted was for him to finally make you cum. Instead he was denying you. He’d never denied you before.

“C’mon, Bubbles, don’t you like having your cunt teased,” he mocked you again. Still holding you so he could pound into you.

“Daddy, please,” you cried. “I need to cum!”

That’s when he pulled out of you before making you sit up. “I know you aren’t demanding things.”

You poured with your eyes all glassy. You didn’t know how much more you could take. He grabbed your hair so he could bend your head back before kissing you roughly. He shoved his tongue into your mouth.

His other hand grabbed at your breasts. Squeezing them with his large hand. Your nipples were so sensitive him man handling them hurt and all that you could think was that you needed more.

He pushed you back again. No pulling away from the kiss even as he spread you wide open again. All you wanted was for him to finally make you cum. You felt like a rag doll.

“Stevie,” you whimpered, tears starting to spring from the corner of your eyes. You let out a sob. He didn’t even stop when you didn’t call him Daddy like he normally would have done.

No. Instead Steve smirked triumphantly as he looked down at your now tear streaked face. Happy to know he’d finally made you reach your breaking point. That you wouldn’t be pulling any shit like that again. He didn’t even feel bad when he came inside of you. Leaving you with the needy, swollen pussy that you deserved.

#Steve Rogers smut #Chris Evans smut #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers x you #Steve Rogers x reader #daddy!steve rogers #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x female reader #Chris Evans x reader #chris evans x black women

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livexdolan · 3 years

Note

40 & 70 with gray? :)

40. "Thought I told you to stay by my side, eh?" & 70. “You know what? Never-mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

Masterlist

Whenever people found out who your best friend was- you knew they were trying to keep from laughing in your face. If he weren’t standing right next to you when you told people, sometimes they would think you were lying.

You’ve been friends with Grayson Dolan for more than a decade, knowing each other since elementary school. By high school, you drifted apart socially but you still hung out at each other’s houses, played video games, helped him with projects, even decided to go to the same college.

You handled Grayson’s popularity in high school well and he handled your lack of popularity well. All you prayed was college would be different.

It wasn’t.

Grayson decided to join Theta Xi, known to be the biggest pothead frat but also the best partiers. You told Grayson that maybe your friendship wasn’t going to work out, this was the sign. Grayson argued with you and spent weeks proving the frat would never change him.

Three years and a presidency later, he had changed. Yet for some reason, she stayed.

Well, she knew the reason, she’s been in love with him since the first time they kissed. It was on a rock in the forest behind his house, they were 16 and 17 and he had just learned no one had ever kissed her before.

After that, she knew she had to stay in his life even though she wasn’t his type at all and he had never given her any reason to believe he was interested in her as more than a friend.

Now, she’s cursing at the way she always get blindsided when it comes to Grayson. He talks her into the stupidest shit because he asks her in ways that she doesn’t realize what she’s getting into but by the time she finally realizes, it’s too late to back out.

Like right now, leaning against the counter in one of the kitchens. The frat house was split into four quads downstairs and two quads upstairs. Each quad has two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a small living space, which all lead out into the main, large room of the house where the main part of the party is happening.

She could still hear the music thumping beneath her feet, she was upstairs in the ‘off-limits’ quad. It was Grayson, Ethan, Ryan, and Mando’s rooms up here.

Grayson’s the president, E’s vp, Ryan’s in charge of everything grayson doesn’t want to deal with but his official title is treasurer, and Mando’s in charge of all things social media for the frat.

I’m in Ethan and Grayson’s kitchen, the cleanliness not surprising seeing as Ethans girlfriend pretty much lives with them at this point. I always try to clean up Grayson’s room and bathroom when I’m over, the OCD type A freak in me hates seeing his books everywhere, trash cans full of bottles, laundry piled in the corner.

It’s not like that most of the time though, that only happens on his bad weeks. Those are the weeks when he falls into this funk and only talks to me and Ethan. We all give him space because we know why it’s happening, they started right after their dad died.

Mr. Dolan dying was so hard on everyone. My family included. My dad wasn’t a very stand-up guy, and Mr. Dolan always made me feel welcome and was the kind of dad I always imagined my dad to be.

“Thought I told you to stay by my side, eh?" I jump at the deep voice, turning to see Grayson standing in the doorway, looking like an angel committing a sin by looking so hot.

He has on a pair of slacks and a loose, silk shirt, the pattern almost matching Ethans. The theme for the night was Coachella. Even if we were many states away and most of the people here couldn’t afford to even look at Coachella tickets.

I let him talk me into coming, wearing a knit triangle bralette top and off-white shorts Grayson picked out, I just realized my shorts match his pants perfectly.

I quirk my eyebrow at him and cross my arms, “I’m sorry, did I leave you to play beer pong?”

He smiles at me and I want to slap it off his face- or kiss it off- either is fine with me, “I’m sorry, angel. Just come back down and enjoy the rest of the party with me, I won’t ditch you again, I promise.”

Grayson’s always done his hardest to keep ever promise he’s told me, so I push off the counter, my entire hard-ass demeanor falling away and my normal, shy and reserved self takes it’s place. He grabs my hand and I try to ignore the pleasure I get from feeling his warmth on mine.

He pulls me towards the stairs and then we walk down together, me slightly behind him. He abruptly stops and I bump into him, cursing at him but he squeezes my hand, silently telling me to shut up.

I look over in time to see Dylan here, with McKenna. Dylan was my first boyfriend, though we’re only kissed and cuddled, I thought we were serious. Until I found out he had been sleeping with my dorm mate the entire time. That was freshman year, I should be over it. I am over it, but the look Grayson gives me tells me I don’t look as though I’m over it.

“C’mon.” Grayson pushes us through the crowd, keeping us out of the line of sight of my ex.

We duck into one of the quads and I realize too late- it’s the pot quad. The rooms filled with a thick haze, the slight soundproofing making the vibes much more calm and relaxing. There’s only a dozen or so people but I feel much better in here than out there. Even if I don’t smoke.

Someone passes Grayson a blunt and he takes a quick hit, “I feel like I should stay sober to make sure that asshole doesn’t even look at you,” I smile at Grayson’s protectiveness.

“I’m fine. It was a while ago, Gray. I’m over it,” I shrug. Maybe it would’ve hurt more if my heart didn’t belong to someone else.

I make a quick decision and go to take the blunt. Grayson pulls back, the weed out in the air where I can’t reach it, “What do you think you’re doing?”

He raises his brow and I scoff, rolling my eyes, “Give it to me, Grayson. I just want one hit.” He pulls back again when I try to reach out.

He just shakes his head and it feels like his patronizing a child, “this shits strong, angel. You can’t handle it.”

Something about the way he said it sends me back to a memory I forgot ever happened. After Dylan took me out for our five month, we went back to his place and we started making out. I tried to reach for his belt but he pulled away, telling me I wasn’t ready. Couldn’t handle it. That I was too immature and if I wanted it to be great, I should lose a little weight, because skinny girls have the best sex.

I snatch the blunt from Grayson, taking a hit before he can stop me. Fuck men. Fuck all men who think they know what I can and can’t handle. I think I inhaled to much because when I exhale I feel a heavy burn and a dry cough comes up my throat.

Grayson pats my back, “Angel-“

“Don’t.” I push his hand off me. Taking a deep breath, I see Grayson watching me closely. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it. What is wrong with you tonight?” He asks me and I roll my eyes.

“You know what?” He looks at me expectantly and I sigh, “Never-mind, you’ll know I’m lying to you anyway.”

He grabs my hand and takes me out of the small room, moving us through the crowd to the back porch- a large, glassed in room. There’s only a few people out here.

He grabs my arms, “what’s wrong, y/n? Is it Dylan? I’ll kick him out if you want. ”

I look up into his eyes, the sincerity there surprising me. Grayson’s always been so honest with me. It’s time I’m honest with him. I don’t know if weed works this fast or if it’s the beer I downed earlier but I decide to be honest with him, “No, it’s not Dylan. I wasn’t even that hurt when we broke up. That’s because- I uh- I like you, Gray. I’ve had a crush on you since eleventh grade. I want to be with you. I mean- with you with you. I want to wake up next to you and hold hands and kiss and hug and- I want you to love me as much as I love you.” I rant.

His hands fall off my arms and my eyes well up, knowing the thing I’ve always feared is about to happen. He’s rejecting me. “Y/n I- I care about you. So much. But I- this isn’t a good idea.”

His words break my heart and I keep my gaze on the ground, “Um- okay. Well, I’m gonna- I have to go.” I say, looking up at him and biting my lip to hold back tears.

I turn on my heel and practically run back into the main room, trying to get out of this house as quickly as possible, “Y/n! Come back! Wait!” I hear Grayson’s voice and the tears start to fall, I push through the crowd faster, when someone grabs my arm, stopping me.

“Y/n?” I look up at Dylan, standing with McKenna. His eyebrows furrow when he sees me crying.

“Let me go,” I state, trying to get my arm out of his tight grip.

“What’s wrong? Who-“ he stops when he sees someone behind me, “Of course it was you. You’re such an asshole. What did you do to her?” He demands and I finally get my arm away from him.

Turning to see Grayson with rage in his eyes. He never got over Dylan cheating on me, “I didn’t do anything to her. You’re the piece of shit who cheated on y/n. How dare you come into my house and accuse me of hurting my best friend?” Grayson spits and I grab his arm out of instinct as he lurches forward.

“Gray, stop.” I say, he looks away from Dylan’s smirk to make eye contact with me for only a second before shrugging my hand off him.

“Yeah, Gray. Listen to your girlfriend. Don’t wanna embarrass you in your house, right?” Dylan mocks and I roll my eyes, knowing he’s just trying to rile Grayson up.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” the words are out of his mouth so quick, I don’t even realize what he said at first. I scoff and roll my eyes.

Because this is the time to correct him. You know what, “Fuck you.” I spit at Grayson and push my way out of the small circle forming around us. I make it to the front door when I hear a loud crack, looking back to see Dylan on the ground holding his nose and Grayson looking for me in the crowd.

We make eye contact and I shake my head, knowing this is the end of us. I open the door and slip out, running down the road, passing all the other fraternity houses. I can feel my heart pounding in my ears but I keep pushing myself until I get to my apartment, knowing it’s only a mile or so.

Once I get inside I slide down the door, leaning against it as I realize that happy ever afters are fake. The person you love isn’t always going to love you back. Fuck fairytales.

It’s not like I can hate Grayson- he didn’t know. I can hate him for not chasing me. He probably realized I’m not worth it. Best friends don’t run after each other, right? If he loved me, he wouldn’t have let Dylan get to him. He would’ve grabbed me and made me stay.

Tears fall down my face unrestrained as my heart clenches at the thought of never being friends with Grayson again. We’ve gone through death, high school, years of people trying to pull us apart, and I was able to ruin our friendship with three words.

If it was meant to be, he would’ve fought for me. Figuratively, not physically, seeing as he already punched someone tonight. I drag myself to my room and fell into the blankets, closing my eyes. I pray I will forget this night ever happened.

Next Part...

A/n: For all my people who didn’t get their fairy tale ending ❤️

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