#do yourselves a favor and mind the tags!

[piratefalls]

i emerge from my pile of blankets in the freezing midwest just long enough to drop this. there's all kinds of fun stuff this week! and, despite being housebound because of subzero temps, i'm so far behind on reading it's not even funny, so it's a little shorter than usual.

masterlist.

None of my love will go to waste by @kiwiana-writes

Alex had pulled away at the sound of the door opening, is the thing. He’d looked up at Henry with wide eyes and spit-slick, swollen lips, and Henry knows intrinsically that he will never be rid of that mental image. He’ll take it into the shower later, into bed tonight, into the rest of his natural life; if he hits his head tomorrow and winds up with some medically implausible form of amnesia, the key to unlocking his identity will be the enduring memory of a beautiful mystery man and his perfect cock-sucking mouth. Because Alex was—Christ, he was— Or, Henry has made peace with the fact that he's in love with his straight roommate. When he walks in on said "straight" roommate with a man, though, he may need to re-evaluate.

wake and shake by weather_stained

Alex wakes up to find Henry indulging in some...classical literature.

until you're sick of me by rizcriz

Henry hasn't seen his roommate in nearly two months. Alex left for Austin shortly before Thanksgiving for two weeks, and Henry left for London the day before he was set to return. They’ve had the odd facetime call, and several hundred text messages to help them tide their time apart—but that didn’t take away from the fact that Henry fucking missed him. And after three delayed flights, he’s finally standing outside their apartment door, and he’s resigned himself to the fact that it’ll still be several hours before he can finally see Alex again. He sighs and sets down his bag to dig out his keys, carefully tucks the key into the lock, and quietly opens the door, turning his back to it to pick up his carryon and grab his roller bag. As quietly as he can, he scoots backwards into the apartment, flinching as the roller bag bounces off the door frame. -- Or, surprise, it's a love confession

check-in closes at too-early p.m. by coffeecatsme

A passenger plane, even if he was in first class, wasn’t going to wait for the former FSOTUS to stop making out with his boyfriend so they can fly. Or, 5 times Alex misses his flight and 1 time he doesn't.

sometimes we break so beautiful by Anonymous

It’s his own damn fault; Alex knows this. It’s his fault for having everyone over for a small birthday party only to spend the evening whispering filthy things to Henry when no one was looking. (And when they were looking, because it’s his goddamn birthday and he can be as inappropriate with his boyfriend as he fucking wants to be.) It’s his fault for pushing Henry, for bratting off with antagonistic words like ‘what are you going to do about it—give me birthday spankings?’ and ‘do you actually think you could put me in my place? Because I’d like to see you try.’ It’s his fault for taunting Henry by suggestively licking the birthday candles, for doing anything he could possibly do to bring attention to his mouth, to his ass, to his fingers. It's his fault that he’s now on their bed, lying on top of Henry, arms stretched out in front of him on either side of Henry's head and wrists tied to the headboard.

There's Something Missing in My Heart by allmylovesatonce

When Alex goes to London to tell him he loves him, Henry sends him away. How do both of them react to being without each other and what happens when their emails are still leaked?

Waffles & Conversation by clottedcreamfudge

“I’m fine, I swear. I just need to give it a proper clean and I’ll be fine.” Ellen isn’t convinced. “Okay, but you’re letting Henry look at it later.” Alex grits his teeth for what must be the thousandth time today and tries to keep his voice level. “No, I’m not. He’s a vet, mom.” “And he’s the closest thing to a doctor we have coming tonight,” she says firmly, letting him take his hand back and raising her eyebrows at him. “It’s that or the ER, honey. Your choice.”

Keep Me Waiting (Give Me More) by bleedingballroomfloor

Alex rubs his face with his hands. “You’re telling me,” he says slowly, “that you got a guy off three times — three fucking times — without even touching his dick? I don’t even think that’s scientifically possible.” Henry’s wine-drunk grin grows a little wider. “Would you like me to prove it to you?”

Sweet, Like Sugar by everwitch

After Henry dates a series of certified assholes, Pez has had it and signs Henry up for a sugar dating app. Henry doesn’t expect much at first, but that’s before he connects with Alex; obscenely wealthy, devilishly handsome and unexpectedly sweet, Alex sweeps Henry right off his feet. But what does Alex expect in return for his extravagant generosity? And why is he so secretive about what his life looks like outside of his intimate conversations with Henry?

even sleeping you astonish me by accol

The utter irony. To be at a climate conference and have a storm descend upon the proceedings was perhaps poetic. To have the storm be intense enough to flood half the hotel and cut off transportation to the mainland was concerning. But to have it all culminate in Henry having to share a room with Alex Claremont-Diaz was as if Mother Nature herself was having a laugh.

9 to 5 by smc_27

Henry is Alex’s favourite colleague. By a fucking country mile, to be honest. He’s intensely competent, has an insane memory for process and policy, and is kind to everyone. Also? He’s fucking pretty, and Alex might be new to bisexuality, but he’s not that new. He knows what he likes, and what he likes are men with pretty eyes and kind smiles and nice cheekbones and English accents. Other men, too, but like. Be serious. Henry’s top of the list. Unfortunately, Henry lives in London. Alex lives in New York City. They work closely together and meet once a week, if not more, and Slack one another almost every day. Alex is on the legal team, and Henry is in business operations, and the second Alex met Henry for the first time, he knew he was truly fucked.

before the first light by stutteringpeach

“I don’t feel anyone. And I’m not going to feel anyone. Because I don’t have a soulmate.” Alex looks confused. “What? Everyone has a—“ “I don’t have a soulmate,” Henry tells him with a sigh, “because I don’t have a soul.”

Song In My Head by MayQueen517

Henry is an explorer and finds himself in a different situation entirely. === He’s restrained. By vines. His wrists and his ankles are encased in the surprisingly soft vines and around him is the scent of blooming honeysuckle that had charmed him so the night before. Henry groans, tilting his head back and he’s aware, briefly, of the vines gently supporting his head, as if they’re concerned over his comfort.

learning to love (without it having to hurt) by viciouslyqueer

Alex nods. “I get that.” He pauses. “You know you can talk to me if you need to, right? If things aren’t great.” Henry’s face softens, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “I know,” he murmurs. “Thanks.” He turns back to the television, and Alex forces himself to do the same. He tears his gaze away from Henry’s profile and focuses on their Star Wars marathon again, refusing to acknowledge how cuddly Henry looks in soft pajamas and fuzzy, mismatched socks. Alex’s heart leaps in his chest anyway. He knew having a crush on his roommate would be confusing, frustrating, and borderline heartbreaking. None of that stopped him.

address me properly by headabovethewater

25. Royalty kink

Pitching a Tent by cmere

Henry looks Alex up and down appraisingly. Alex feels heat rising in his neck and wills it to stop, burning with curiosity about what Henry’s going to ask. He finally says in a low voice, “Are you a serial killer?” Alex smirks. “Even if I was a serial killer, wouldn’t I just say no to get you alone?” “Dammit, you’re right,” Henry says, grinning. “I guess I’ll have to take my chances then.” “Live dangerously, sweetheart.” - or - “our mutual friend dropped out of this trip at the last minute, so hi i guess we’re spending the weekend together” AU!

take my hand if you can take me as i am by anincompletelist

It would hurt less, Alex guesses, if he wasn’t head over heels for the guy he’s supposed to be fucking through an ancient one-sided sex curse with that was partially — a lot, actually — his own fault. But. It’s not like there’s a fucking handbook. Alex has looked. 

'till the gravity's too much by IndestructibleHeart

He’s been pacing the length of the house for the better part of an hour now, restless after 48 hours of involuntary confinement. The blizzard outside is unrelenting, to the point that city officials have recommended staying indoors until conditions clear. It’s actually a “suggestion” that Alex might’ve tested if a) Henry weren’t taking the ‘sTaTe oF eMeRgEnCy’ so seriously and b) if not for the fact that their door has literally been frozen shut. “Baby,” Alex says, deliberate and slow, because he knows it’ll earn him the long-suffering, utterly helpless expression it always does. “I’m crawling out of my skin here. Can you just… distract me?”

a quick study by @whimsymanaged

Alex is new to bisexuality, and he turns to a friend for some guidance.

where every wish comes true by HypnosTheory

“Locked out?” “I forgot my keys,” Alex says with a sigh, leaning against his door with a muted shiver. He was planning on a heated Uber ride to June’s apartment, not standing out in the cold ass hallway. Alex hugs his coat closer to his chest. “My friend has my spare.” Henry nods, leaning against his own door frame. Alex isn’t sure what the man does outside of going to grad school at NYU, but it must be bench-pressing horses based on the size of his biceps. Henry reaches up to push his glasses higher on his nose and Alex swears he wasn’t that bisexual when the day started. “Would you like to wait in my apartment for your friend?” -- Alex gets locked out his apartment on Christmas Eve. He's forced to take refuge in his neighbor and occasional fuck buddy Henry's apartment, and together the two get into the Christmas spirit with the help of a festive costume and a silk ribbon.

Anything You Want by somuchworse

Alex rubs his thumb against the stubble on his chin, a soothing balm to the fire melting it’s way through Henry’s bloodstream. “You can tell me, baby. Whatever it is, I won’t care. I won’t judge you. Nothing. I’ll just listen.” And that helps. Henry opens his eyes, and his blood cools just enough to let him speak as he peers up at Alex through his eyelashes. “I’ve never had an orgasm. I’ve tried on my own, and with other people, and I always get close… But then it disappears. So, yeah. Never had one.”

I did one thing right (starry eyes sparking up my darkest night) by theprinceandagcd

"Sighing happily, Alex focuses on the feeling of Henry’s arm around his back. The tips of Henry’s fingers are brushing featherlight up and down his spine, and Alex can feel goosebumps rising on the flesh in their wake. It’s so fucking tranquil that Alex is pretty sure he could die right now and be perfectly content with his life, except – 'We should get married.' 'Pardon?' Oh. Fuck. He said that out loud."

like strawberries on a summer evening by Anonymous

He saw something wiggle in the blanket pile, and then Alex’s face appeared under a mop of messy curls, frown stuck firmly onto his face. “Ugh,” he said, from his spot on the bed. - Alex is having a rough time, and Henry is concerned, like any good boyfriend would be.

even though we know it isn't true by matherine

For so long, academics had been the one thing Alex could count on when everything else in his life was falling apart, the one thing he had always been good at. It didn’t matter that his parents were getting divorced as long as he could figure out how to factor an equation, didn’t matter that June was moving out to go to UT-Austin as long as he could analyze Jane Eyre, didn’t matter that his mother was on the campaign trail more often than he ever saw her as long as he could balance lacrosse with his position as valedictorian. But now, every time a paper comes across his desk marked to within an inch of its life, bleeding a C – or even worse, a D scrawled in bright red ink, his chest grows a little tighter, his breathing a little quicker. Thankfully, he’d not yet managed to fuck up spectacularly enough to get himself a real, honest to God F. He’s not sure he’d survive it. He’s already not sure how well he’s surviving. Alternatively: Alex is failing a class. Henry learns how to help him cope.

Twice the speed (of you and me) by @myheartalivewrites

“Hey. So, you know Pez?” Alex asks bluntly. No easy way into this, he’s decided. Henry looks up from his phone, frowning. “My best mate?” “Yeah, that one.” ——— Alex has an idea.

Don't Quit It by inexplicablymine

“And goddamn last but not least on my Hit It and Don’t Quit It list would be the Saracens rugby player Henry Fox. That man has great depths, and he could so easily plumb my depths, if you know what I’m saying. An all-around fantastic player, but also someone who is ridiculously smart off the field. And we all know by now that everyone on this list features my mile-wide competency kink. Henry, if you are seeing this, we could play around with some balls that aren’t just in play.” Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck. Alex has just accidentally outed himself to 6.7 million people. And according to the comments section, they seem to be all too aware. Or... Announcing your crush via viral TikTok... that's one way to get his attention ;)

Hall of Fame by politics_and_prose

“It is an unbelievable honor to be inducted into the New York Mets Hall of Fame. If I could tell the eight year old boy sitting in the stands at Shea that we would end up here, I don’t think I would. This journey has been … it’s been everything to me. Thank you, New York, for loving me as much as I love you. Thank you.”

Sip You Like Cosmic Juice by @sparklepocalypse

“There’s this… charity rugby match in Windsor next month that my mate, Percy’s foundation organizes. I, um… I was wondering if you might want to… be my guest.” Here’s the thing – Alex knows that Henry is athletic and strong. He’d felt and, to some extent, seen evidence of this in the way Henry’s hands had gripped at his waist and back in the Red Room, the ease with which Henry had manhandled him onto the sofa in his bedroom, and in how solid Henry had felt beneath him as they’d tumbled into the supply closet at London Children’s Hospital. And Henry’s a royal – being sporty seems to be a baseline job requirement for modern royals. So yeah, Alex knows Henry’s got some muscle, and as he walks toward the stands that line either side of the rugby pitch in Windsor, Alex thinks he’s prepared. He finds a seat in the stands among spectators wearing the colors of Henry’s team – red, white, and blue – then scans the pitch for a familiar head of blond hair. It’s probably for the best that he’d sat down first, because when his gaze alights on Henry out on the field, Alex promptly swallows his tongue. (Movieverse; what if everything's the same, except the charity sporting event is rugby?)

if you ever want me to tag you, let me know!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels

#rwrb rec list #rwrb #rwrb fic #rwrb fanfiction #firstprince #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #do yourselves a favor and mind the tags!

[cypherthesuccubus]

I’m not done with you yet….darling~

Alastor x Reader -Part 4- (NSFW)(MDNI)!!!!

WARNINGS: smut, blood kink, bondage, slight S&M, Dom/Sub, rough rutting, mate marking, leash play/ownership, slight degradation, praise kink, body worship, ass worship, cock worship, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie, facial

Other Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: Reader will receive aftercare

Ooooh my~ Part 4? Prepare yourselves darlings~ It’s gonna be a wild ride~😈 @starlightdreaming @chibistar45

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

After group and dinner had passed, I paced back and forth in the middle of my room. My anxiety got me in a chokehold, and wouldn’t let go. What could he possibly want? What kind of favors does he want me to do? Did he actually want to eat me? So many questions with no clarity. I look at the time on my phone; it was 5 minutes til midnight. I took a few deep breaths to try and calm myself down. I put my phone in my pocket and slowly made my way out the door. Closing the door behind me, I slowly walked down the corridor. Each step became heavy as like some instinct was trying telling me to turn back. Screaming this is a bad idea. By that time, I was already standing in front of his bedroom door. Fidgeting and slightly trembling to the ideas of what he wants with me. With shaking breath, I slowly raise my hand and softly knock on the door. My adrenaline start to kick in; telling me to run in the opposite direction. But I was too frozen by fear to move. The door knob slowly turned as well as the door slowly opens. I was fully expecting him to be standing in the door way, but he wasn’t there. Did he open the door without being near it? Just then I hear his voice. It came across demanding, but at the same time soft and sultry. “Please…do enter, my dear~” I swallow hard as I slowly enter his room. Looking around I still don’t see him anywhere. Then the door closes behind me; making jump out of my skin. I turn to see him standing at the door. His ruby eyes and wide smile seemed to faintly glow in the dimly lit room. He wasn’t wearing his usual pinstriped coat, instead it was just his red under shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. He also had this what looked to be a body harness over on top of his undershirt.

Why did he look….so hot right now? Why did I say he looked hot?! What is going on?!?! What is he planning?!?! He smiles even wider as almost like he read my mind. “Enjoying the view darling?~” I snap out of my thoughts; looking up at him “Could you kindly tell me why I’m here….please?” He nods “Of course my dear. But first please sit on the edge of the bed until I return.” I do just that as he makes his way to his dresser on the other side of the room. He rummages through his drawers as he pulls out 4 items. From what it looked like; it seemed he pulled out a red satin tie, a hair tie, a collar?!, and a ball gag?!?! He soon makes his way back as he takes a knee in front of me. He then proceeds to show me each item up close; telling me what they’re for. “This red tie and hair tie are up to you my dear. These are for your comfort.” He places them right beside me on the bed as he continues. “This collar is a must wear. Depending on your answer of course.” He places the collar right next to the red tie. The collar itself was made of leather with a thick red metal circle in the middle. Along with a small, but just as thick red chain link attached to it. Alastor then holds up the ball gag; made with the same material as the collar. The ball was also a deep red with holes decorating the surface “Now this….depending on your answer….this will be for….punishments if you misbehave~” my eyes go wide as I feel my cheeks flush. What does he mean by “punishments”??? What is really going on?!?! “W-what do you mean by…..punishments?” He places the ball gag down next to the collar.

“Allow me to explain~” I swallow hard again as I start fidgeting with my fingers. “You see (Y/N), I have this problem that has been bothering me for some time now. Usually I can handle the situation very well, but ever since you showed up here….” I feel his fingers touch my knee; slowly turning into his whole hand to run up my thigh. I shudder under his touch as my knees instinctively squeezed together; feeling this heat rising from the pit of my stomach. “You have been making my problem much harder to deal with whenever you’re around~” he practically crawls up my body; nestling himself between my legs as he whispers in my ear; lips lightly brushing against the shell. “Remember that smell from earlier today?….it was me you were smelling my dear~ the effects of my season.” My breath hitches as I feel his tongue lightly lick the shell of my ear. “Y-your s-season?” I whisper breathlessly; having a hard time finding my voice now. “Yes my dear~….I’m in full heat….because of you~” I whimpered as I felt his lips kiss my neck tenderly while his hand that was resting on my thigh; moved up to my hip as he gave it a slight squeeze. “You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me (Y/N)~……your beauty, your scent….mmmm your body~” With shaky breath, I let out a soft moan as I felt his other hand on my other hip; feeling his fingers run up my sides while lifting my shirt slightly with it. Every touch he has made sent electric waves of pleasure through my body and it left me wanting more. “You are intoxicating~…..I want more of you~” he slid his hands all the way to cup my cheeks as he pulls me in a deep kiss. I instantly wrapped my arms around his neck as we fall back onto the bed. Our tongues danced with each other as my brain gets foggy from the absolute pure bliss.

He breaks the kiss as both of us started panting hard from the lack of oxygen. He chuckles softly as he brushes a lock of hair out of my face. “Tell me my dear~ do you want this~?” How can I say no after that amazing kiss?! He’s been driving me crazy since day one as well. Now I’m in his bed and out of breath; wanting him even more by the second. “Yeeees~…..I want this Alastor~”

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

I smile maliciously down at her as tries to catch her breath. Her form spread out on my bed while being pinned underneath me is the most thrilling sight for me. “Very good, my love~” I then get off the bed, leaving the poor girl all confused as to why I got up. “W-what are you doing?” She looks at me with pleading eyes as I chuckle softly “We need to do something’s first, before we continue my dear~” I grab the collar off the bed as I held it with one finger trough the big metal loop. “Sit on your knees and present darling~” she sits up from the bed and tucks her legs underneath her. Such a good girl~ so obedient for me~ “Hold your hair up for me~” She does exactly that as I approach her; gently fastening the collar around her neck. I take a moment to admire it. Mmmm~ it really suits her~ I loop my finger into the metal link to pull her up; making her look into my eyes as she turns red. “You don’t how ravishing you look with my collar on~” I lean down to whisper in her ear once more “Makes me want to take you….right now~” she shudders as she moans softly. So reactive~ I’m definitely going to enjoy this~

I lean back to look at her again “Now two more things to do, and you can get a reward for being so patient.” She nods as I reach for the hair tie “Now would you like your hair up for this? Just to let you know….I do get…..rough with the things I want~” she shakes her head. Very Interesting~ She must like it rough~ I pick the red tie and ask the final question “Do you want to be blindfolded? I want you to be comfortable as possible with me, whether that means you don’t want to see what’s going to happen or you do….take your pick darling~” she takes a moment to think about it and comes to an conclusion “I want to see everything.” I chuckle darkly as I tilt her chin to meet my gaze “Scandalous little thing aren’t you~ but do keep in mind darling~ I can take away your sight and or speaking privileges if you do misbehave at anytime. I also have the safe color system as well; please do not hesitate to use it my dear. You have Green which means everything is good, and you want me to keep going. Yellow which means you either want me to slow down or wrap things up early, but we’ll stick with you wanting me to slow down. Last but not least Red, which means you want me to stop everything and anything of what I’m doing; no matter what it is , and I will stop no questions asked. Understand these terms?” She nods as she gives the most sinful bedroom eyes possible “Yeeees sirrrr~”

I forcefully pull her chin in for a rougher kiss this time, causing her to arch her body into mine. I place my both my hands on her ass, gripping it tightly to further deepen the kiss. I growl as I hoist her up to wrap her legs around my waist while taking a couple steps back from the bed. Our tongues fought each other furiously; swirling around sinfully and eagerly to taste the other more. “Take off your shirt.” I commanded mid lip lock. She quickly pulls her shirt off throws it carelessly aside; diving back into the kiss. I run my right hand from her ass, up the curve of her back and neck; entangling my fingers into her soft hair. I growl as I grip a handful of her locks, pulling her head back to break the kiss. She moaned loudly as I did cause he to grind against me. Her scent was clinging to the back of my throat again as I can’t resist any longer. The sound of her heart beat, the heat of her body all mixing with her scent; made me just want to have a taste~ I slowly lick from her collarbone to her left shoulder as she shudders from it; moaning softly “A-Alastor~” I grunt as I open my mouth to sink my teeth into her shoulder; earning a blood curdling scream from her. I do hope that didn’t wake anyone up. I start to lick the blood that would constantly leak out the wound while my teeth were still latched on. She convulsed and writhed every time I lapped at the wound; tears streaming down her face. My god!~ I can definitely get used to this sight!~

I let go of her shoulder as I lick my lips off from the excess blood “You taste absolutely divine my love~” She was breathing heavily seemed like she was out of it already. I gently stroke her hair with my fingers and then cup her cheek; placing feather light kisses all over her face “Still with me darling?” She nods slowly; very good~ still responding after that. “What’s your color?” She looks at me; giving me a sultry grin “Greeeen~” I pull her into another rough kiss. The taste of her soft lips and sinful tongue is enough to get me addicted to her. I place her down for her to stand as I break the kiss once again. “Get on your knees for me~” She obeys and tucks her legs underneath her once again; sitting back again her heels. “Unclasp your bra as well~” As quickly as she took her shirt off before; her bra suffered the same fate. “That’s a good girl~” I chuckle mentally at the fact that she still gets flustered with my words even after all what’s happened. I was right! She is so……entertaining~

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor smut #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x reader #alastor #self insert #18+ post #18+ account #18+ content #18+ blog #18+ only

[linorachas]

#3 | bang chan

tags: toys, public space, established relationship, implied exhibitionism, once again chan is a little mean and i want him

buy me coffee?

When Chan tells you he’s got you a gift, he knows the last thing you expected was for it to be a sex toy.

It was pink, small and slim, curved a little at the tip and just a little bigger than his middle finger.

At first glance, it looked harmless. When Chan lays you down on the bed and eats you out until your toes are curling and your back is arching, you don’t even feel the toy being inserted inside of you until Chan thrusts it in and out.

You blink at Chan, clearly confused as to why he would buy something so small. At this point, you’ve basically been moulded to his dick, which was way above the average size. Chan knows you can take it bigger. So what was the point of this tiny little thing?

The confusion doubles when instead of letting you return the favor, Chan just pulls your panties back up, toy still inside. He kisses you sweetly, making sure you forget about every single thing when you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You wanna come to dinner with me and the boys?” he whispers against your lips. Still in a daze from your orgasm, you just nod mindlessly. Chan grins. So good for him.

Dinner is a fun affair, as it always is when you’re with the kids. You’ve got yourselves a private spacey room in some fancy shmancy restaurant, and the food, drinks, and company put you in such a good mood that you forget there was something inside you.

Until…it starts vibrating.

You jerk in your seat, eyes wide. Everybody immediately turns to you, but before you could process anything, Chan is already cooing, leaning down to rub your calf.

“Shit, sorry baby. I didn’t mean to kick you.” Chan mumbles as he presses a kiss to your cheek, apologetic. The rest of the boys soon turn back to what they were doing after the explanation.

You turn to Chan with a panicked look, because what the fuck. What the fuck? The toy he put in you was a vibrator. And despite its small size, the vibrations were so intense you swore you could feel it in your stomach. You squirm in your seat, suddenly very aware of the toy inside of you.

But that turns out to be a big mistake, because that only pushes the vibrator in deeper, and the tip brushes against your g-spot.

You double over with a gasp.

Chan gathers you in his arms immediately. Thankfully, the music in the restaurant and the boys’ chatter were too loud for anyone to hear you gasp. But it was loud enough for Chan to hear.

Chan, who had been planning this right from the start. Chan who had one hand in his pocket and one hand around your waist. Chan, who rearranges you so you’re curled into him, face hidden in his neck.

Chan, who discreetly leans down to whisper in your ear, “Stay still and be good for me.”

You stiffen. Chan knew you always wanted to be good. Especially for him. Chan also knew you couldn’t keep still, because when you were being pleasured, you always moved. Chan always lets you grind down on his face, his fingers, his cock when you’re in the throes of pleasure. He lets you squirm, grab at his hair, play with your nipples, scratch at his back. Moan in his ear. Now, he wasn’t letting you do any of that, and you were going to lose your goddamn mind.

“Chan,” You gasp into the skin of his neck, already trembling. Chan pulls you closer.

“You like it, baby? I picked it out especially for you. I didn’t think we needed toys, but I just wanted to see you squirming like this, right here. I know you would have wanted something bigger, but that wouldn’t have been a challenge for a slut like you, would it?” Chan mutters in your ear. “A huge dildo would slip right in, since you already take my cock so well.”

Underneath the table, your hands grip the hand that was around your waist. Chan interlocks your fingers and squeezes.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you gonna sit in my lap and let me play with you with the boys all around you? Just listen. If they turned the music down, they’ll probably hear the vibrator and hear how fucking wet you are.”

You turn your head and bite Chan’s shoulder to muffle your moans. Chan hisses under his breath. He shifts, hard cock pressing against this jeans and your lower back.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? My poor girl. Do you want to sit up and grind on my thigh? The boys would see you grinding on me like a bitch in heat. Would you let them see you like that? See how desperate you are for me?”

You try to shake your head, but the jolt of heat up your spine stops you. Chan’s words coupled with the vibrator in your pussy was making you so dizzy. If Chan pushed you more, you might just end up doing what he says and actually start grinding.

When you look up, there’s a glint in his eyes that says he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

You didn’t think it was possible, but the vibrations turn up even more. This time, you can’t stop the moan that slips from your lips. It’s loud.

“Y/N? You okay?”

You freeze. Chan grins.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #this was honestly chan's first draft for unexpected kinks haha #but him bringing the toy didnt seem so unexpected 💀 #so i made it a lil drabble instead #seablurbs

[daddy-dins-girl]

Kindred - Chapter Two

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

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Chapter 1 || Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Max repays the favor ;)

Maxwell Lord x f!Reader (Nanny)

Word Count: 7k

Notes: Doing my best here with early 80's references but this story takes place before I was born so... take it easy on me.

Chapter Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut (so much smut). Dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation (mentioned), explicit language.

Tagging my Maxwell baby mutuals who inspired this part 2! @boliv-jenta @suzdin @heavennumber2 @prolix-yuy

By the time Friday had finally rolled around you were exhausted. It had been a long week of juggling all 3 of your jobs at once with the impromptu addition of Nannying for Alistair this week, but you wouldn’t complain. The extra money you’d make at the Lord’s this week (and likely next week you presumed, as you had yet to hear anything about Alistair’s mother returning any time soon to take him back as per the usual schedule) would provide a nice cushion for your savings account which you liked to keep for the times when either of your other two jobs would slow down. You would get Alistair to school in the mornings then make deliveries or do your haircuts during the day, then rush off to pick up Alistair, bring him home, entertain him for a couple hours, make dinner, clean up after yourselves and then make sure he was bathed and put to bed at a decent time. Max always tried to get home in time for bedtime for Alistair but it hadn’t happened at all this week so you’d done it each night. Not that you minded. Alistair was, in terms of children you’ve cared for, one of the easiest you’d ever dealt with when it came to bed time. He liked a snuggle in the rocking chair by his bed while you read him a story, then you tucked him in, flipped off the light and left the room, letting him fall asleep on his own. Max always made sure to call though when he knew for certain he wouldn’t make it in time. He would talk to Alistair on the phone, ask him about his day, and on nights when he had a few free minutes of time he would make up his own story to tell to Alistair in lieu of actually being home to read him one from his bookshelf.

That’s where you found yourselves now; you were wiping down the kitchen counters while Alistair sat at the table, phone cord twisting around his fingers as he happily babbled on to his father about the day he had. A smile tugged at your lips as you overhear Alistair tell his Dad about the goal he’d scored in soccer today in gym class, the same story you’d heard from him three times already tonight when he’d forget that he already told you. You gave the same excited reaction each time regardless, letting him have his victory he was so proud of.

“Okay, one second” You hear Alistair say into the phone a couple minutes later and look over to see him holding the phone out in your direction. “Daddy wants to talk to you Nana” he tells you, using the nickname you’d accidentally adopted from the boy when he’d called you it the first time you met. Max had explained to him that you’d be his Nanny and Alistair had gotten confused, thinking it was your name and shouted “Nana!” excitedly the first time he saw you. You and Max had laughed so hard at it that Alistair found it hilarious (even if he didn’t know why you were laughing) and so he’d just continued to call you it. You didn’t mind. At first you were a little weary that it made it sound like you were some kind of grandmother to him but you were also far too young for anyone with half a brain to believe you were old enough to be a grandparent so it didn’t bother you. You’d get the occasional odd look tossed your way when he’d call you it out in public or around the school pick-up, but you didn’t even notice it anymore.

Your brow furrows slightly when Alistair holds the receiver out towards you but you head over and take the phone anyway. Typically they chat to each other and just hang up but maybe there was something important Max needed to tell you.

You had barely spoken to him, you realize, since your (incredible, in your mind at least) night together at the beginning of the week. He was always off to work so early in the morning and though you did see him in the mornings, Alistair was typically in the same room as at least one of you at all times, either getting his breakfast or just spending the precious few minutes he had with his dad before both of their days started. So on those busy mornings you hadn’t exactly talked about how you’d tied your employer to the same kitchen chair where Alistair was eating his Cheerios and gave him a life-altering blow job that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Not quite a family breakfast table conversation with a 6 year old in the room. And in the evenings you’d actually been asleep by the time he had gotten home each night. Usually you’d try and wait up but with all the extra work you’d been pulling this week you just couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to see him. You hoped he didn’t think you were avoiding him because you absolutely weren’t. The truth is you were actually glad Alistair was always around in the mornings because if he wasn’t you doubted you’d be able to control yourself long enough for Max to get out of the house in the morning.

That night - the night - after you had parted ways from Max from the kitchen you had gone down the hallway to your bedroom and gotten yourself off so hard that you had to wash the sheets the next day and he’s all you thought about since.

“Hello?” You say into the phone once you’ve taken it from Alistair.

“Tell Alistair to go watch TV” Max tells you promptly and your cheeks heat up immediately. Clearly whatever this is, he intended for it to be a private conversation away from young ears.

“Hey buddy, go find a show for us to watch OK? I have to talk to your Dad for a minute then I’ll be right there” you tell the boy before ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Ok” Alistair shrugs and hops off the chair, running down the hall towards the living room.

“Hi” you try again, hoping he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Hi Angel” Max greets you warmly and you swear your stomach flutters.

“Listen, I know I’ve been home late all week and I’ve missed Alistair’s bedtimes,” he begins and you frown. It’s not exactly why you thought he wanted to talk to you with Alistair out of the room…

“Oh.. Um, it’s ok, I really don’t mind doing it” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“I know, but still. I should be there. I want to be there. Anyways, I really want to try and see him tonight. Will you try and keep him up a little late for me? I’ll try not to be too late, but it will be a little past his usual bedtime I’m sure”

“Yeah, of course” you agree easily. “No school tomorrow so he’ll probably be jazzed about getting to stay up late anyway” you shrug, knowing it’s true. Alistair was constantly asking to stay up late but you’d always stuck to a pretty regular schedule to keep his routine on track so he wasn’t too affected whether he was at his mom’s or his dad’s house.

“Good, good” You hear Max sigh with relief. “I really want to spend some time with him”

“Of course Mr. Lord”

“And um, Angel?” He begins again and the familiar warmth comes flooding back at the change in his tone.

“Yes?”

“I’d really love to spend some time with you, too, if you could wait up for me after I get Alistair to bed”

“Oh,” you breathe, surprised. “Um,” you don’t mean to hesitate, but the tingling sensation that runs through your veins when his deep honeyed voice comes through the phone throws you off guard and all you can do is bite down on your lower lip in anticipation, forgetting momentarily that he can’t actually see through the phone how his words are affecting you.

“Only - Only if you want to. I mean, we don’t-” Max starts rambling and you quickly gather your wits to cut him off.

“No! I mean, I do, want to. Of course I want to, Mr. Lord” You make sure to say his name teasingly this time, unlike moments ago when you were talking to 'your boss', and you hear him chuckle into the phone.

“Well good. I’m… looking forward to it then, Angel”

“Me too” you whisper into the phone, smiling as you wrap the phone cord around your fingers.

“See you in a few hours” he promises before the line clicks signaling that he’s hung up. You sigh dreamily and hang up the phone before wandering off to find Alistair; a stupid smile playing on your lips the rest of the night.

…

It’s 10pm and you’re doing your best to keep Alistair awake an hour now past his usual bedtime. You were playing a board game for a while because you thought it would be a better way to keep him awake then a movie or tv show but after it was done he’d asked if you could watch something instead so you agreed and now you sat on the couch with Alistair's feet in your lap. You would give his feet a little tickle each time you noticed him starting to nod off and he’d break out into a fit of giggles that seemed to keep him awake for a few more minutes each time but you weren’t sure how much longer it would be a successful tactic. Thankfully you don’t have to wonder though because you hear the click of the lock at the front door and Max calling out announcing his arrival and Alistair jumps off the couch as if he hadn’t just been nearly drooling on the arm of it five seconds ago.

“Daddy!” he shrieks in excitement, running down the hallway as fast as his two little legs could carry him and nearly knocking his father over when he barrels into him with his arms spanned outwards.

“Ooof! Hey buddy” Max groans when he catches him. “Look who’s awake” he grins at his son.

“Yeah, Nana let me watch Knight Rider” Alistair explains enthusiastically.

“Oh she did, did she?” Max brings his gaze up to find yours as you too came out to the hallway and he raises an eyebrow at you. It wasn’t exactly a show meant for 6 year olds but in your defense it was 10pm on a Friday night, there weren't exactly any kid-friendly shows on TV.

“Hey, you wanted him to stay awake, David Hasselhoff provided” you shrugged and Max huffed a laugh. You knew he wasn’t actually upset. You’d never let Alistair watch anything really inappropriate and Max knew that.

“Yeah the car is SO COOL Dad!” Alistair carries on. “You should get one I think”

“Oh you think so, do you?” Max teases, hauling his son up to sit on his hip so he can place a kiss to his forehead.

“Daddy gets me whatever I want” Alistair turns his head towards you to explain and you laugh.

“Well then you are a very lucky boy, mister. I think KIIT might be on contract to the TV network for at least a few more seasons though so you might have to wait on that one” you joke and Alistair only shrugs in his father’s arms.

“That’s ok, I can wait. I can’t even drive yet” He explains and both you and Max let out a hearty laugh at that.

It’s sweet how much Max is endeared by his son. Though Max may be on the verge of being successful, he’s certainly not a wealthy man but to Alistair he might as well be royalty. The way Max carries himself and speaks of himself alludes to wealth well beyond his actual means, but that is part of what makes him a great businessman and what pulls in his investors, you presume. Though Alistair leads a humbled life, he’d never know it the way his father treats and spoils him. He’s always clothed and fed, but their home and lifestyle is modest at best. In the 6 year old’s eyes however he wants for nothing and he latches on to the way Max projects not only himself but his family. Max has an image to uphold and it’s important and although he does provide for his family, you know it’s not as much as he’d like to be able to, and that’s why he works as hard as he does. You’d had an honest and upfront financial conversation when you’d first been hired and Max had been apologetic that he couldn’t offer you a higher salary. He knew it wasn’t enough but it was what he could afford and you assured him you were fine with it. Living at his house for half the month helped you out a lot, financially. Your utility bills were essentially cut in half, same for your groceries, though you did still have to pay your full rent each month obviously, despite only living there half the time. But you’d be paying it regardless, so having a paycheck from Max and all the money you saved on essentially living “for free” for half the month each month was more than enough for what you needed to live your life the way you wanted to.

You didn’t know much of Max’s past or upbringing but he did share some of it with you one night a month or so ago when you’d both been relaxing on the back deck with a bottle of wine long after Alistair had gone to bed. You hadn’t meant to dig deep into your past and spill half of your life story to him, but you did. When he was at home and relaxed like this and not having to put on the act he always did out in the world or when television cameras were rolling on him, he was so easy to talk to and you felt so comfortable. So you’d shared (or maybe overshared, though he didn’t seem to mind) and soon, he shared also. It wasn’t much, but he did tell you of his very humbled beginnings, how he’d gone to school in tattered clothes and holes in his shoes. How he was treated by his peers at school and when you reached out to place a hand on his arm in comfort he quickly shook his head and told you that it was ok, it pushed him to be where he was today and motivated him to give his own son the things he never had. You’d quickly brushed away a tear that had slid down your cheek as he confessed parts of his past to you, hoping he didn’t see it, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You tried to pry even further and asked him about his parents but he just cleared his throat and pretended to look at his watch, commenting on how late it was and that you should both probably get some sleep. You never pushed the subject again.

“Ok buddy why don’t you go get your PJ’s on and pick a story and I’ll be right in OK?” Max says suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts as he gently places Alistair back on the floor. The boy rubs his tired eyes and nods before turning on his heel to head up the stairs to get ready for bed.

Max leans on the bannister, watching Alistair go until he’s out of eyesight before turning his attention back to you and taking the few strides forward until he reaches you.

“Thank you, for keeping him up. It’s been a crazy week, I feel like I haven’t seen him at all” Max sighs and your shoulders fall. You feel for him. Max is always working like crazy and you can’t imagine how hard it is for him to already only have 50% custody but then still barely get to spend any time with him even when it is his time.

“Happy to do it” You smile. “He missed you this week. We um…” You pause, looking down and feeling suddenly shy. You reach out to tug gently at the bottom of Max’s tie hanging loosely around his neck, feeling the fine fabric between your fingers and memories from the last time you touched his tie flooding your thoughts. “We both missed you” you shrug, finally bringing your gaze back up to meet his, a smile playing on your lips. Max’s eyes close and he lets a deep breath out through his nose before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Good, just… hold that thought, OK?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cover yours on his tie, his thumb rubbing absently across the backs of your knuckles.

You nod and Max brings your hand up to place a kiss to the back of it, giving you a quick wink before he drops your hand and takes off up the stairs calling after his son, reminding him to brush his teeth.

Time seems to be running backwards while you wait for Max. Or maybe you’re just terribly impatient. You look at the clock on your bedside table again and it’s nearly 11:00. Alistair usually doesn’t take more than 15 minutes to put down and it’s been nearly 45. You’ve been staring at the same page in your book for at least 10 minutes. Constantly losing your place or forgetting what you’d just read all together as you keep glancing back over to the clock. You’re still exhausted, too. Today has probably been the busiest of the whole week and the anticipation of spending time with Max is the only thing keeping your eyes open. You wonder what’s taking him so long and try to push back the negative thoughts in your head that are wondering if he’s changed his mind entirely and not seeking you out tonight. Maybe he’s had a change of heart or doesn’t want to complicate things. You couldn’t even blame him for it, though you hoped it wasn’t the case.

The thoughts don’t have a chance to plague you any further though as you hear a soft knock at your bedroom door and you quickly flip over onto your back, holding yourself up on your elbows as you call out for him to come in.

“Hi” Max sighs with relief when he enters your bedroom. He closes the door behind him then turns back towards you and runs his hands through his hair. You notice then that his hair is wet and he’s not dressed in his typical dress suit and tie that he’d been in when he got home. Instead he’s wearing a pair of black pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. You’d always thought Mr. Lord looked incredible in his suits but this look was positively delicious, you decide.

“You showered” You mention because you suddenly feel like your whole mouth has gone dry and you have no grasp on how to speak in more than 2 word sentences when this man is standing in front of you looking the way he does. It should be criminal.

“Oh, uh, yeah” Max looks away, almost like he’s embarrassed but you’re not sure why he would be. He’d been working for nearly 14 hours, of course he’d want a shower when he got home, you rationalize. You of course were oblivious to the fact that he had actually showered because he wanted to fuck his fist before coming to see you so the night wouldn’t be over before he really had a chance to begin it. He’d been in absolute agony all week thinking about you. Your hands on him, your mouth, the way you spoke to and treated him. He’d even jerked off in his private bathroom at work this week - something he’d never done before - when it got to the point where he couldn’t even concentrate on his work because he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“Alistair’s asleep?” You ask, getting up on your knees now on the bed and shuffling over to the side edge.

Max simply nods before taking quick strides to meet you over at your bed, his large hands instantly coming to your waist to roam up and down your sides as he stands in front of you, his eyes watching the movement of when the hem of your tank top rides up slightly to reveal some skin.

“Angel you’re so beautiful” he sighs and though you wouldn’t exactly agree, you believe he means his words.

“Max, I’m literally wearing a tank top and sleep shorts” you giggle. You didn’t exactly have any sexy lingerie over at your babysitting gig so you’d just changed into your regular sleep clothes when Max had gone to put Alistair down.

“And still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” Max confesses before he presses forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss. He wastes no time running his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up to him gladly, moaning into his mouth when his tongue strokes against yours. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven. Your hands go up to push through his wet hair, pulling him even closer to you.

“Mmm, fucking missed you” Max groans into your mouth as his grip on your waist tightens. “Tell me you missed me” he breathes heavily before capturing your mouth again and swallowing your moan that follows.

“I missed you Maxi. Haven’t stopped thinking about you” you admit.

“Oh, fuck, me too Sweetheart” Max groans, his mouth leaving yours to trail down your throat instead. He licks, nips and sucks all the way down the side of your throat until he reaches your collarbone and then ascends back up to meet your mouth again for more hungry kisses. His tongue explores your mouth, the wet muscle fighting for dominance against yours as his hands slowly push up, up, up your sides and under your tank until they’re at the bottom of your breasts and he deftly reaches his thumbs up to brush across each of your nipples. His hands seem enormous on your body and they’re driving you mad.

“Maxxx” you whine when you feel your nipples pebble under his ghosting touch. You want more of him. Need more of him. Without bothering to ask, you push off of him for a brief second just long enough to hastily tug your tank top up and over your head, throwing the offending garment off to some corner of the room before you pull him into your body again and your mouths meet once more. You’re very glad at that moment that you had decided to forego a bra tonight.

“Needy girl” Max groans into your mouth, his hands now greedily grabbing and kneading into your breasts. Your back arches so you push further into his touch and you can’t help the whine that escapes you.

“Please Max” you whimper. You’re not even sure what you’re asking him for. You just know you need more.

“Angel, Max is here now darling” Max soothes, pulling his mouth away so he can study your face instead. Your eyes are half closed, mouth open, you know you must look positively wrecked already and it’s because you are.

“Let me take care of you” he whispers before he leans in and presses a quick kiss to your lips. You try to deepen it but he pulls away too quickly. You don’t have time to complain however because as quick as he leaves your lips he lowers his head and puts his mouth on your left breast, his hand pushing it further into his mouth as he alternates between suckling on and flicking his tongue over the pert bud.

“Oh Max, baby, that feels so nice” you praise him by running your hand through his hair as you look down and watch him mouth at your breast, humming his satisfaction into it while his other hand pays the right side equal attention, massaging it in his palm and pinching the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Your head is rolling back as his warm mouth continues its assault and there’s a slow burn beginning to build deep in your core as he takes his time with you.

He continues sloppily kissing, nibbling and lathing his tongue over your breasts for what you could swear is hours but in reality is more likely only minutes. He’s switching occasionally between the two sides, his hand and fingers always making up for the attention the one is not getting from his mouth. Your head feels like you might as well be on another planet. You can’t concentrate on anything but Max’s hands and mouth on you, driving you absolutely insane. Heat continues to coil in the lower parts of your belly as he keeps showering you with attention and all you can do is whimper and continue tugging on his hair while pushing your breasts into his face. He hasn’t even touched you beneath your waist yet and you’re not sure how you’ll survive that, if this is how he’s making you feel already. You can’t remember the last time someone had focused so much attention on you without seeking out their own pleasure at the same time but you get the feeling by the way Max is constantly moaning and babbling adorations into your breasts that this is giving him nearly as much pleasure as it’s giving you.

Your panties are uncomfortably wet, you can feel them already, and as if on queue, Max seems to read your mind as he suddenly shifts his position and lifts his left leg a bit so he can place his knee on the edge of your bed. His hands let go of your breasts and he brings them to your legs and yanks you forward you so that your legs straddle his thigh and you let out a guttural moan when your aching center rubs against the firm muscle of his thigh.

“That’s it baby” Max coos, his mouth releasing your breast to place wet kisses to the mounds instead. “Take what you need, I’ve got you” he promises before placing his hands on your ass and pressing you harder into him, helping you rock back and forth and create the friction he knows you're begging for.

You're moaning freely now, not caring how desperate you sound. It’s everything but still not enough. Without giving it a second thought you reach down to tug your shorts down, needing to get them off as quickly as possible. Max reaches down too, helping you as you awkwardly try to get them all the way down and off your legs to kick them free. It takes a few seconds, not easy given your kneeling position, but you manage and then gasp as Max pulls you hard back into position and you start grinding against him again with renewed vigor.

“Oh Max, oh fuck”

Max’s attention goes back to your throat again. He’s kissing and sucking all over and pulling sounds from you that you can only pray won’t wake the sleeping 6 year old upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you’re chanting now. You’re so close and it feels so good that you’re not even the slightest bit embarrassed about how you’re getting yourself off like some kind of rabid dog, grinding up and down on Max’s leg. You can hear the wet squelch of your desire that’s soaked the inside of your panties and you know you’ve not only ruined them, but surely Max’s pants as well.

“Come on baby,” Max encourages, his hands back on your ass as he helps speed up your rhythm and push you harder against him. He starts jutting his own hips forward so that his leg rocks into you, meeting your thrusts and your head lolls backwards. Max takes full advantage of that, finding a particular spot in the hollow of your throat and running his teeth along it before sucking you hard into his mouth. He knows it will leave a mark and he absolutely does not care.

“Oh my God, Max, yes, yes” You cry out as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You feel like a fucking teenager - not that you’re complaining - getting off from dry humping and hickeys, but Max does something to you that you haven’t felt in years. If ever, even.

Hell, the man just made you cum without even taking your underwear off.

“Holy shit” you breathe as the rocking of your hips slows dramatically and Max continues to moan into and suckle on your neck, but with a restrained intensity now as he feels you come down from your high. His hands are still groping your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh in his large hands as he moans into your throat. You rest your chin on top of his head and wrap your fingers around the back of it, hands petting over his hair as you float back down to earth.

“Angel you’re so good for me” Max hums into your neck before placing a few more kisses to it and pulling himself back to look at you. He brushes the hair out of your face and you manage a lazy smile.

“You’re not so bad yourself” you retort. It’s beyond cheesy but the grin Max gives you in return tells you he loves it.

“Lay down” he instructs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m not done with you”

You quickly oblige him, moving to lay down on your back in the middle of the bed with your head resting on the pillows. Despite having just came, you’re already squirming, waiting for his hands to be on you again. You don’t have to wait long before he’s crawling onto the bed on his knees and swinging one leg over the other side of your hips so you’re between his legs. His strong hands come down to rest at your waist before beginning to play the waistband of your panties and then he lifts one edge of the elastic right by your hip bone, stretching it and then letting go so it snaps back against your skin and you whimper in anticipation.

“Take these off” he orders and you don’t need to be told twice, quickly pushing them down and shimmying out of them.

“So beautiful” Max murmurs, looking down at your naked core and running the back of his hand over you so his knuckles brush against your hip and then down to the top of your thigh.

“Maxxxx” you whine, needy for his touch. He’s so close, and yet still hasn’t touched you where you’ve been dying to feel him all week.

“Fuck, Sweetheart” Max moans before he lets out a growl and lowers himself down to kiss you hard. It’s all teeth and tongue and desperation and you love it, grasping onto his shoulders to keep him close.

“Baby,” Max breathes between urgent kisses. “Angel, I…” he cuts himself off again, not able to pull away from your mouth long enough to form a complete sentence it seems. “If you don’t want… If you want me to stop you have to…” he trails off, the thought unfinished as you pull him back into another heated kiss. You know what he was getting at. If you don’t want to go any further tonight you need to tell him to stop now or pretty soon he won’t be able to.

You kiss him a few more times before finally pulling back and taking his face into your hands to ensure he hears you.

“If you don’t touch me soon Maxwell Lord, I’m fucking quitting” you tell him. You’re of course kidding about the quitting part and the grin that crosses his lips tells you he knows, but you do need him to touch before you actually lose your mind.

The moment the words leave your lips Maxwell’s hand is cupping your sex and you arch your whole body into his touch, moaning into his mouth when you recapture his lips.

“Mmmm, Sweetheart” Max hums in delight when his digits slide through your soaked folds. “So fucking wet for me”

“All for you baby” you breathe against his lips, hips chasing into his touch.

Max slides his fingers delicately through your folds, bringing the tip of his middle finger that’s slick with your desire up to swirl around your clit a few times and you gasp into his mouth.

“Max!”

“Shh, shh, shhh” Max soothes, peppering kisses to the side of your face now as his fingers slide back down and begin to nudge at your entrance instead. You widen your legs instinctively, pushing his knees apart and giving him more access and you feel him huff a little laugh against your cheek.

“You really are my Angel, aren’t you”

“Yes” you whine, your hands coming up to grab at the hem of his t-shirt and you begin pulling, suddenly needing to feel more of him, his body against yours.

Max quickly gets the hint and his hand unfortunately leaves your aching core momentarily while he sits up and tugs the t-shirt off his head and tosses it to the end of the bed before his large frame comes back down on top of you. He slides one leg between yours and nudges your left leg further out and then brings his other leg over as well so you’re spread out on either side of him, impatiently squirming with him between your legs.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking about all week, my dear?” he asks, his breath fanning against your ear and you shake your head.

“I want to know what you taste like” he whispers and you moan, your arms coming up to wrap around his naked back.

“Tell me baby” you whisper against his lips before capturing his bottom one between your teeth gently before letting go. “Tell me what you’ve thought about”

Max groans and shoves his tongue inside your mouth to kiss you greedily for a few moments before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “Angel I want to fuck you with my tongue, my mouth” Max confesses and you whimper. “Want to make you feel so good like you did for me. Baby do you know how many times I had to fuck my hand this week because I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“Really?” it comes out breathy and you're arching your hips off the bed to grind into Max’s lower half, feeling his hardness under the confines of his clothes. “I had to wash my sheets twice this week” you confess your own discretions and Max practically growls in response and it sends a surge of heat straight to your core.

“Fuck” Max groans, not able to help but rut his hips into yours. “My needy girl, gonna make you feel so good”

“Yes, Maxi” you moan, your hips coming off the bed again to thrust against his. “Want your mouth on me baby, please” you beg him and he groans.

“Fuck” he curses once more before placing hot open-mouthed kisses down your throat, the top of your chest as he inches his body down further and further, his mouth following his decent until he’s hovering just above where you need him most. Your hips thrust up into the air but you can’t reach anything and you let out a whine.

Max is just staring at your glistening pussy and were you not completely fucked out you might be embarrassed but you are so you do nothing but moan and writhe beneath his stare, begging without words for him to do something.

He does. Oh boy, he does. Two fingers suddenly plunge inside of you just as his mouth latches on to your clit and you practically scream out in pleasure at the simultaneous intrusions.

“Oh Max, oh fuck, yeah, yeah” you’re writhing beneath him, your hands coming down to grab fistfuls of his hair as you secure his face into your cunt and he moans against you, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Just like that baby, right there” you encourage, your hips rutting against his face unabashedly. His fingers continue to plunge in and out of you, fingertips curling just right as they hit as deep as they can go and his mouth is alternating its attention between licking through your folds and tonguing frantically at your clit and god help you, but you’re coming again already.

“Oh Max, yes, yes, fuck fuck fuck! Don’t stop. Max. Max!”

You’re loud as you come for him, and you know it. Absolutely debauched and you can’t help it. Your thighs are shaking as they grip either side of his head and you’re practically riding his face as you come completely undone at his mercy and Max dutifully laps away at your folds and leisurely fucks you with his fingers for minutes long after you come and you just hum happily as your hips continue slowly rocking into his face and your hands continue to get lost in his hair.

Maybe it was because you hadn’t gotten off from anything but your own hand for much longer than you’d care to admit, or maybe Max Lord was secretly some kind of sex God, you weren’t sure, but all you did know is that you just had 2 of the most incredible orgasms of your lifetime and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

Yeah, you were leaning more toward the sex God thing.

You’re so lost in your post orgasm bliss that you literally almost fall asleep while Max still has his tongue buried deep in your pussy. He seems perfectly content to just nuzzle into your folds and leisurely lick and suck and fingerfuck you like he has all the time in the world. He’s probably been at it a good five or ten minutes at least since you came but its soft and slow and sensual and the intimacy of it feels so heightened. He’s not trying to bring you to another orgasm, or overstimulate your sensitive sex, he just wants to be close to you, savor you like you’re his last meal, and you let him.

Your good boy.

He notices after a while how you’ve stopped rocking your hips into him and your hands have slowed from running through his hair and he finally pulls his mouth off of you and his fingers out and you groan tiredly at the loss. Max presses soft kisses to your mound and the insides of your thighs before pushing himself up onto his elbows and crawling back over top of you. Your head is lolled to the side, your eyes closed but a ridiculous smile playing on your lips. You actually nearly fucking fell asleep.

“Mmmm, that was nice” you mumble into your pillow.

“Angel I think I wore you out” Max chuckles and your eyes open wearily to look at him, your slick smeared across the bottom half of his face should maybe be embarrassing to you but you can’t help but find it anything but incredibly sexy.

“No, ‘m not…” you trail off for a moment, forgetting what you’re saying. “Not even tired” you try to sound convincing, but know you’re anything but.

“Get some sleep, my darling” Max’s voice is soft and suddenly at your ear, though you hadn’t even felt him move. He presses a kiss to your temple and then you feel him shift all of his weight off of you and you whine at the loss of body heat.

“Baby?” You murmur, reaching a hand out blindly for him. He takes your hand in his and brings his lips to your knuckles before placing it gently back down.

“Go to sleep, Angel, I’ll see you in the morning”

“But you didn’t…”

“I’m ok” he quickly promises. You highly doubt that. You felt him hard as a fucking rock against you earlier but you honestly don’t know if you have it in you to go another round either.

“You’re leaving?” You say, suddenly realizing he’s off the bed and standing beside it, pulling his t-shirt back over his head. You don’t mean to sound as whiny about it as you do, but you can’t help it.

“Alistair” he sighs.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right” you quickly agree. You both know if the boy happens to either wake up in the middle of the night or get up before his father does, his dad’s room is the first place he’ll go and if he’s not there and finds him in your bed instead, well… neither of you were ready to go down that road with the boy just yet.

“I’m sorry Sweetheart, I wish…” he trails off, the thought unfinished but you hear it in his voice. You know he’d stay if he could.

“I know. It’s ok” you assure him, reaching up to squeeze his hand at his side.

“I will make it up to you” he smiles and you know it’s a promise, one that brings a grin to your lips as you snuggle further into your bed.

“I’ll hold you to that mister”

“Good night Angel” Max tells you, dropping your hand and leaning down to place a kiss to your forehead before he pulls your covers up and places them over you.

“Night Mr. Lord” you smile cheekily and he huffs a laugh before he heads out of your room and you hear the door click shut behind him.

You’re asleep the moment your head nestles back into your pillow so you don’t hear the shower coming back to life from Max’s ensuite, either.

Next Chapter

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #maxwell lord fanfiction #maxwell lord x f!reader #Pedro pascal character fanfiction #maxwell lord x you #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal character fanfic #Maxwell lord

[meshlasolus]

House Of Memories (24/?)

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Padawan!reader

Warnings: slavery, mentions of exposure, beating, whipping (it's the Kadavo plot, so)

Summary: An entire colony of Togrutas have gone missing, captured by the slavers of Kadavo. It's up to the lot of you to find them and bring them home... but you find yourself in a rather confining role while doing so.

A/n: still shadow banned- but y'all literally don't seem to mind lmaoo i wake up with the same number of notes for the chapters as usual and i just wanna say thank you guys for all the love you've given it means so much to me... also tags are currently close bc while I'm banned, I'm not able to add anyone to the list. I will try and get it fixed as soon as i can, though, and will try and open them back up when i do

Words: 2.1k

"No, absolutely not."

Obi-Wan was quite upset that Anakin would even suggest such a thing, even in the current situation, he did not like the idea of putting you or Ahsoka in harm's way.

An entire city of people had gone missing, abducted by the slave traders of Kadavo, and in order to save their community, it was up to you all to go undercover.

"Master Obi-Wan, it's a good idea," Ahsoka chided in, and you weren't late to chime in afterwards.

"It really is, and good ideas are rare for Anakin."

Anakin rolled his eyes, continuing to lay out his ideas in front of him using the holo-table on the ship.

"I will not let either of you pose as slaves to anyone," he looked at you both sternly. His gaze was unwavering, and you weren't sure if he'd ever cave. Too bad he didn't have to. This was Anakin's mission, appointed by the council on account of his latest success. "The chances of you being taken off our hands would be far too high, and we would not be able to do a thing about it, lest we break our cover."

"We'll put it to a vote," Anakin said plainly, not even raising his eyes from the table in front of him. "All in favor?"

You and Ahsoka both raised your hands, along with Rex who you'd only just noticed entered the room by now. The only one to keep his hand down was Obi-Wan, and knowing he'd been overruled, he shook his head, having unleased a tantrum inside his mind. He would never let it show on the outside how upset it made him, because he was far too gathered for that. He would just be petty about it for the next several weeks anyone brought it up. If he was anything at all, Obi-Wan was sarcastic and petty.

"We land on Kadavo in an hour, set time."

Anakin spoke, and the meeting was dispersed. Anakin took off to make arrangements for the disguises, while Ahsoka and rex went to the hull and tried to make it look presentable. Anakin may or may not have wrecked the panels by using what he called 'aggressive negotiations', so it was up to them to make the ship look like it actually belonged to him.

"Choosing to put yourself in danger is not exactly a wise choice, little one," Obi-Wan was trying very hard to keep his emotions out of his words, but you easily heard how agitated he was about this plan.

"I am going to be fine, and so is Ahsoka. There is no other way we will be able to land on that planet unless they think you're one of them."

He knew you were right, he did, and he wanted to agree with you. He just couldn't help but feel something bad about to happen when the plan was suggested in the first place.

It was a very selfless act, for you and Ahsoka to lower yourselves in order to play a role that may get you hurt, but it was a strength of the Jedi to be seen as selfless. A selfless Jedi was a valuable Jedi.

"You won't be able to carry a weapon," he said, but you already knew that. You didn't rely too much on your lightsaber, and only truly used it in times you knew it actually called for. "Just stay close to me, alright?"

"You know I will."

-

The disguises you and Ahsoka had to wear for this mission were a bit.... revealing, to say the least.

You were very visibly uncomfortable in your own skin, which had been exposed and accentuated in the strangest of places. With the drapey material coming over your hips and running over the front and back of your thighs, hitting the ground and creating a mess of fabric around your feet. Your entire back was exposed, save for the small space where your top wrapped around. The small ornaments hanging from your chest and resting against your waist were loud when you walked, and the ones at your hips jingled with every step. Your chest was more exposed than it had ever been, the halter of the top was ever so tightly wrapped, and it forced your attributes to be accentuated. You wrapped your arms around your stomach as you walked out of the fresher, having just changed before descent.

All eyes turned on you, as you were the only one that they were waiting for, now. Ahsoka was in a get up similar to yours, a bit different on the top half. You felt nauseous almost, having people look at you in such a vulnerable state. It was uncomfortable because it was foreign. You didn't like feeling so exposed. You would much rather have the robes you wore on the daily, which were coiled in a pile on the fresher floor.

"Are we ready?" you asked, since not one of them said anything. Anakin seemed to not really be paying attention anymore, as he was tending to his comm link, which Rex had just spoke to him on.

"Yes," Ahsoka said, approaching you with an item in her hands. It was a small headdress of sorts, and as she placed it on your head, you noticed Obi-Wan still hadn't looked away from you, yet. He hadn't said anything, but his face was bright red. He probably wasn't used to seeing his padawan so... differently. "For what it's worth, you look good in green."

"Thanks," you chuckled, noticing that yes, it was a good color on you, and complimented your features very nicely.

"I need to-" Obi-Wan seemed to be having trouble with his words, and you looked over to him when you heard him begin, but his stuttering got him nowhere. "I need to go find Rex."

He left in a hurry, and you could all but tell why. He seemed to be very flustered all of a sudden. Did you give him this reaction? You knew he was protective of you, but you didn't think that he would be so upset over simply seeing you in a disguise that could possibly attract unwanted company.

You looked at Ahsoka with a quizzical look, and right away she was keen to answer to it.

"Maybe he liked what he saw," she said, smirking. You shoved her in the arm, and she laughed, seeing as Anakin was far too busy to notice anything you both were saying.

"Then why did he leave?"

She shrugged her shoulders, looking at the door in which Obi-Wan just left. "Maybe he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm already uncomfortable, Ahsoka. There's like a fat two inches of me that isn't showing."

"Oh, come on, loosen up," she said, handing you the black cloak you were to wear while in the city. The reveal would not come until you got to the palace, which you were at the very least grateful for. "Live on the scandalous side for once."

"Yes, because you're so scandalous, Ahsoka."

You teased her, but she knew in all honesty this was a big step for you. She wasn't sure if you'd ever been this exposed and presented in your life. You wouldn't even have to act very much to convince them you were a slave girl, because the second anyone laid their eyes on you in this get up, you would be cringing, trying to hide yourself from their views.

-

The town seemed to be so advanced, which was strange, since they harbored such an uncivilized line of work such as the slave trade.

The markets in the street made you nearly want to cry. The children's faces you saw were absolutely horrified, being taken and separated from their mothers and fathers to be sent away with a total stranger, one who would whip them and beat them into submission.

You craved comfort from seeing these horrific things, and looked to Obi-Wan, extending your signature with pleading eyes. He grabbed hold of it tightly, thinking of only good things to help sooth your mind. It was hard for him, too, you could tell. He knew, however, that he was here to help save some of these people, which helped him keep a straight face as he walked through the city.

There were some slight altercations between Anakin and some guards that were stationed, but shortly after, you were all led to the palace to visit with the queen. Anakin had managed to charm his way through the front gates, but Obi-Wan and Rex were prevented from entering. The guards that stood on each side crossed their weapons in the way of the path, separating you from where you stood by his side.

"Only Lars Quell and his slaves have been granted access into the palace," one of them said, a pointed look which was given directly to Obi-Wan.

"I'm sure my men will be just fine to circulate the area until I'm finished with my business," Anakin - Lars Quell - told them, and Rex backed away immediately. It took Obi-Wan a second more to comply, but then he did, and gave you a look that said, 'be careful, please' and walked away.

You continued up the steps with Anakin and Ahsoka, entering the luxurious place where you would soon meet the queen. You weren't really looking forward to it, but knew it was part of the plan to find the Togruta colony.

"Remember, you both have to act as if you fear me," he said quietly, in the stretch of hallway where no one was listening.

"I do fear you, Anakin."

He snapped his head back at you, seeing as though you weren't being sarcastic, he furrowed his brows.

"I scare you?"

You chuckled and shook your head.

"Not you, necessarily... but your stupidity at times is absolutely terrifying," Ahsoka snorted to herself, trying to keep in character as the throne room was soon approaching with every step you took.

"You're hilarious, can we focus now?"

You regained a straight face and walked along with them until you were in the middle of a grand hall. The walls were so ornately decorated, but the carvings that were so beautiful were probably done by those who did not wish to sculpt them. Most of this place was probably built by slaves who had no choice. You could not revel in the beauty of something that was brought about with pain and suffering.

Anakin's dealings with the queen were going rather well, you'd say, as his charming sweet-talk wooed her into listening to his case. He was a good liar, you knew that much, having spent years of forcing him to tell you the truth over little things that probably didn't even matter.

When she approached you both, Anakin ripped the cloaks from your bodies, exposing you to the queen and her guards. He knew you were uncomfortable by the look on your face immediately and gave you an apologetic one in return.

"He always knew how to pick a female," she said, mentioning the name of the slaver that Anakin had killed only a day before.

She looked over Ahsoka, then you, and then to Anakin again.

"How much for this one? She is exactly the type for one of my keepers. Firey, stunning."

Anakin looked at you for permission, and knowing that it was a key part of the mission to keep the queen interested, you nodded to him, telling him it was okay and you had prepared yourself for this case. It had been your worst case scenario, but you were prepared for it nonetheless.

"For you? Consider the slave my gift," he said, smiling cheekily but also simultaneously reaching out to you through the force to make sure you were absolutely okay with this. You could take care of yourself, he knew that, but this was something you'd never considered before, so he was a little anxious.

'I'm okay, I'll see what I can find out..'

The queen nodded to her guards, who approached you, locking a metal collar around your neck, and putting your hands in shackles that that held onto like a leash. You pretended to struggle along for a few moments before giving into them and following where they lead you to.

You hoped Obi-Wan wasn't too far away. You wanted to be able to latch onto his signature if push came to shove and you needed relief. You figured you would be okay, because of everything you'd been through, you were still here, functioning as you always did.

You were shoved into an elevator, the doors closing and making you disappear from sight of Anakin and Ahsoka.

-

@spencerrxids @sawendel @fandomstanner24 @i-shall-abide @officialjellydoughnut @whatshxrname @darkened-writer @superavengerpotter @cutiepoo16 @hypnoash @softlymellow @howlerwolfmax @mephistominion @honestlywtfisgoingon @anakinskywalkerog @mandiiellen @je--a-n @guyinachair27 @avenger5-a55emble @amelia-song-pond @kaminanii @the-abyss-of-fandoms @queenofnightdreamland @world-dominating-kitty @mandowhatnow @ella-error505 @annahalo @infinity-witch @beetlejuice-stuff @liueski @solarbxby @sirianisrock @lxdyred @endless-warrior-always-fighter @iloveinej @msjb2002 @shoochi @itsilvermorny @gingerrosecosplay @sebschicken @loversjoy @argentinemango @1-800-vader @house-of-kolchek @marierg @graciexmarvel @ttzamara @truly-madly-nerdy @molieux @majahu @dyzlks @pancakefancake

#obi wan x padawan #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan series #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #ewan mcgregor #anakin skywalker x reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #obi wan kenobi show #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #ahsoka tano #captain rex #HoM #house of memories

[fanfic-scribbles]

Building Bridges, Trying Not to Drown: Filling in the Cracks

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Steve has a bad night. Thankfully, he knows someone well-versed in getting through them.

Quick facts: Friendship – Steve Rogers & Reader –Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Depression, 1st person POV, part 3 of a series (first one can be found here, second can be found here, but there are more warnings for those so please mind the tags)

MCU Timeline: Set some nebulous time after CA:TWS

Words: 2485

A/N: Surprisingly not a lot of warnings for this one, and no tense shifts, yay \o/ Pretty self-contained and self-explanatory so not much to say; I'm not sure if this requires knowledge of the previous parts or if you can just enjoy it as is, but I've included links above just in case. Take care of yourselves, and I’ll hopefully have something a little more light-hearted next month <3

~

Bucky was away on a special mission with Natasha, Sam was off visiting relatives, and I was on the bridge…alone.

That was odd.

Steve had made it a point to be with me just about every night over the past week. It wasn’t as trying or tiring as it might have been normally– I was doing relatively all right, and I could see that he was…not. He was fairly good at putting up a mask, especially when other people were around, but he couldn’t, (or maybe just didn’t), put up a front with me all the time. We sat quietly. He stewed in his own head and deflected questions that hinted at concern.

I thought on that for a little while. I didn’t really like people poking at me too hard when I wasn’t feeling well. It was why I had tolerated Steve so well– he didn’t press too hard, asked a few questions maybe, but otherwise was content to talk about anything at all when I was unresponsive. It was like he just wanted to be present to know I wasn’t going to do anything drastic. And I…I felt very suddenly like I could understand the impulse.

Well. I stood up and dusted my pants. Sitting out here wasn’t helping anything anyway. Was kind of boring, actually. Time to change the view.

~

I knocked on the door of Steve’s and Bucky’s apartment and waited. And waited. And…I frowned. Was he out? I’d thought he said he wasn’t going on assignment. Then again, it wasn’t like he didn’t get called on emergencies, but he always told me if he was going to be busy, even if he was texting while running off.

I knocked again, a little hard and a little fast. If this was karma, it fucking sucked.

“Who is it?” asked a man’s voice, so sharp and short and stern I had to double-check and make sure I wasn’t knocking on the wrong door. It sort of sounded like Steve, but…

“Steve?” I asked uncertainly, even though I had been here before and I knew I was in the right place.

To my relief, he said my name in a normal tone and immediately unlocked the door. His voice was a little rough and rushed, and when he opened the door he looked a mess. Well…more a mess than I was used to. A piece of hair fell in his face and– I hadn’t known he could get eyebags. How long had he not slept?

I resisted the urge to sigh and squared up while he rubbed his face, brushed his hair back, and otherwise tried to pretend he was Fine, Just Fine, Really Truly Fine, Honest. He smiled weakly, but it fell fast, thank goodness. Not so thankfully, it was replaced with a worried crease of his brow. “I meant to tell you I wasn’t going to– God, did I forget to text?” He rubbed his face again. “I’m so sorr–”

“It’s okay,” I said and walked in past him. “We can hang out here.”

“You…might not want to,” he said, dropping some of the act but shutting the door behind me.

It was a little messy, yes, but I’d seen worse. Lived in much worse. However this wasn’t a competition, and Steve was flagging by the second. What to do, though? Tasks– Steve needed something else to focus on. “Do me a favor,” I said as I pulled off my jacket and tried to make a plan. “Do you have coffee or tea?”

“Fresh out of coffee,” he said, with enough regret that I could guess how my ‘how are you sleeping?’ question was going to go over. “But I do have some good tea.”

“Cool. Start boiling some water.” I stopped and quickly added, “Please. Can I…use your bathroom?”

“Of course,” he said, sounding even a bit lighter, though whether that was real or just an act for my benefit was not something I knew how to tell. So while he went to boil some water, I went to the bathroom and took a look around. It wasn’t bad– maybe because it hadn’t been touched much. Steve didn’t smell terrible, but even just looking at his hair I could tell he hadn’t washed lately. So I took down a couple of fresh towels, ran the shower, and used a washcloth and some of the warming water to wipe down the bathroom counter. On second thought, I grabbed a clean washcloth and set it next to the sink.

I stepped out and entered the kitchen to see a slightly amused expression on Steve’s face. “Is your shower broken?” he asked. He lost his attempt at a smile and leaned on the counter. “Are you okay?”

“I’d ask you that, but I don’t think there’s a good answer, is there?” I asked. He swallowed, tried to speak, but after a few attempts just hung his head and shook it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a little quieter. “I didn’t want to…put anything more on you.”

“I know the feeling,” I said. “But I wouldn’t be here if I thought I would make things worse. So, here’s the plan–wash up, dress in something really comfy, and we’ll sit on the couch with some blankets and just…make it through the night.”

“I’ll be okay,” he said gently, and lifted his head.

“Eventually,” I agreed. “But you don’t have to get through the ‘not okay’ part on your own. If you don’t want to. If you do…”

“No,” he said, quickly enough that I felt reassured this was the right thing. However, he then looked towards the sound of the shower with an expression of dread that was very familiar. Or at least, felt familiar.

“Life hack– you don’t even have to use soap,” I said. “Just stand under the water for a few minutes. And if you really can’t stomach the thought, just wash your face in the sink; maybe take up a washcloth if you want to.”

He nodded, but he looked really just…resigned. Defeated. “Okay,” he said in a small voice I’d never heard from him before, and turned towards the bathroom.

I felt suddenly struck by…not quite fear? He wouldn’t do anything while I was here, I was pretty sure, but it just…it felt so wrong to watch him shuffle along so miserably. I grabbed his shirt before he could go. “Steve,” I said as I tried to collect my thoughts into something coherent. “I’m…I’m not trying to shame you into, or out of, anything. I’m just here. To help.” I lifted my head to look at him. “So I’m here. Until you tell me to fuck off and you mean it. Okay?”

He swallowed very visibly, and gave a little tremble. “I get– I mean, I underst–” He tried for a few more words, crumbling further with every attempt, and his arms moved up and stopped and up and stopped, and then dropped.

I opened my arms. “Come here,” I said, barely getting the second word out before I was being hugged for dear life. I let it go on for a few minutes before I patted his back. “Go on. I’ll take care of the tea,” I said and stepped away to go for the kettle.

He smiled with watering eyes but shuffled away for the bathroom before I could see them fall. I started steeping the tea, and as soon as I heard the bathroom door click shut, I moved to the living room and started picking up.

Obvious trash went in a plastic grocery bag. Clothes got tossed into a pile out of sight. I remembered where the blankets were from when Bucky had gone to get one for me when I was having a bad night and couldn’t be alone, so I went and started feeling over the folded edges of each one. They were all fairly soft, so I picked a few at random, stopped off in their bedroom to get some pillows, and then went to make the couch as nice as I could. It was a large couch, wrap-around, and I set up the longer sitting side for us to rest on. I put the TV on with some quiet nothing nature videos and went back to get the tea. I checked the cupboards and there was food, but I wasn’t sure what Steve could stomach, so I let it be. If I suggested eating, he would want me to eat too, and I wasn’t sure if I could, so I had to leave that battle for later.

It took a few minutes after the water stopped running that he came out, changed into his PJs, with brushed but dry hair. “I couldn’t do the shower,” he admitted. “I put a washcloth under the water and used that instead.”

“Good job,” I said and meant it. When he stopped and made to go for the clothes pile though, I said, “Steve.” He stopped and looked at me. “Is it really bothering you that bad, or can it keep?”

He looked like he gave it some real consideration, but his face went slack and he shrugged. I nodded and patted the seat I had made just for him, with the best pillow and blankets. He took the offer for what it was, came and flumped down, and just sort of…stared at nothing with a blank look on his face. I handed him his cup. “It’s warm,” I said and slanted my body so I could lean on the couch arm, preparing for the next part.

“Does it help?” he asked and took a sip.

I shrugged. “Maybe cumulatively?” I suggested, because I really didn’t know. “Sometimes you just gotta ride it out. Better to be comfy.”

“I guess I can’t argue that,” he said and sipped the tea almost mechanically. Like it was another task off his list. I sipped at mine a few times before I set it on the coffee table and leaned against the couch arm. I used the blanket to protect Steve from my clothes, which were not as comfy. After a few minutes he set his cup down, half of it gone, and sighed. He looked so tired, but he kept blinking his eyes open.

“Hey,” I said. When he turned his head, I opened my arm in invitation.

He gave me a look over. “You don’t have to,” he said.

I tried not to roll my eyes. “I know. I do what I want, in case you haven't noticed.”

A ghost of a smile haunted his lips for a brief moment, and then he moved slowly and carefully to lean against me. He didn’t cuddle so much as just rest heavily, but within minutes he was breathing deeply, his eyes shut, and so I didn’t dare move except to make sure my phone was on silent.

It was. Had been, long enough that I’d gotten a message on the walk over and not noticed.

Bucky: Can I ask a favor?

I tried to be very careful in how I moved as I tapped out a reply.

Me: I’m staying with Steve right now. Me: Related?

It took only a few seconds for a reply. He must have been done with his…whatever he was doing.

Bucky: How is he?

I looked at Steve, whose mouth was slightly parted and showed absolutely no signs of waking. I blinked a few times. I was a little tired too, actually.

Me: Sleeping on my shoulder Me: He washed up Me: I don’t know how to bring up food Me: But I’ll try. Later. Bucky: Thank you

I almost shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. Something about the thanks chafed, so I let it go.

Me: Gonna sleep now Me: Be safe Bucky: Will do

I set my phone aside, pulled up the pillow into my arms, and laid my head against it. Even with the lights and TV, I fell asleep without any issue.

~

When I woke up again, I first noticed some extra weight. I wondered if Steve had shifted, but he was still sleeping in the same position, only now his arms were loosely around me– and resting against him was Bucky. Bucky, meanwhile, was watching Sam and Natasha, who were in blankets on the floor in front of Steve, on their phones, …playing a game?

“God dammit Nat,” Sam said and cursed quietly as he tapped furiously.

“Shouldn’t have left the east wall broken,” Natasha said smugly.

I blinked a few times, noted the early morning hour, and clouds outside besides, and decided I would rather go back to sleep than figure out what the hell this was.

“Now the north wall too,” I heard Bucky comment as I started to drift off.

“Yeah, thanks, hadn’t noticed that with Natasha killing my guards…”

At least Steve was sleeping through all this nonsense.

~

When I woke up again it was because Bucky was waking me for lunch. Steve was already up and occasionally running a hand through his hair while looking vaguely apologetic, but every time he started to open his mouth he received a glare from Natasha, or Sam, or Bucky, so apparently I had missed the most annoying parts.

“Cool; free lunch,” I said as I slid into the open seat next to Steve as everyone else settled in front of their bowls. Pho or something with a rich smelling broth and not too much stuff in my bowl, thank goodness. I looked at Steve. “Other life hack– broth totally counts as food if you can’t handle much.”

“I’m actually pretty hungry,” he admitted and took up his chopsticks.

“That’s good,” I said. I looked at him and what was with that expression? It wasn’t sad, wasn’t down, it was…annoyed? Pouty? I looked at Sam, who shook his head, and I looked at Steve again, until he looked at me. “What’s wrong?”

He blinked. “Uh…nothing. Nothing new, at least,” he said and stared at his soup. “I’m just…embarrassed, I guess.”

“Oh. You’re embarrassed?” I asked and thought about that as I blew on my spoonful of broth. “Should I be embarrassed?”

Bucky snorted, and Sam grinned. Steve’s face went through a few expressions, (one of which was definitely annoyance), before he settled on a wry smile and reached over to gently rub my head. “No,” he said softly.

“Good.” I took a tentative sip. “That sounds like it would be annoying. For everyone.”

Steve rolled his eyes and Sam laughed. Natasha passed me an egg roll and, to be polite, I nibbled on it. It was pretty quiet for the rest of the meal, but not in a bad way. This wasn’t going to fix whatever Steve was going through, but it didn’t have to. He’d pull through and feel better again. Eventually. For now, he was making it through. And that was good enough.

#steve rogers & reader #captain america fanfic #captain america reader insert

[ggomos-maribat]

[28/?]

BDBWM Day 8 | Significant Other

original prompt | complete masterlist

Marinette puts on a serious face in front of her huddled siblings. “I know we always mess around during galas, but this time, please. Act. Normal. Understand?” 

Stephanie raises her hand. “Define normal.” 

“Normal as in do not embarrass yourselves or me.” Marinette crosses her arms over her handmade dress. 

The others give her casual nods or sounds of agreement before they break away from the group. Bruce is already entertaining some of the guests, sneaking worried glances at the boys every five seconds. 

Meanwhile, Marinette takes a deep breath and fixes her curls. She steps towards her date when both Tim and her father block her view to up a conversation with the boy. 

No! Tim! Dad! She groans internally. Minding her high heels, she stalks over to the refreshments table to eavesdrop on the two. Marinette bends down and peeks from the edge of the tablecloth with narrowed eyes.

“So about Marinette . . .” Tim raises an eyebrow. “You never mentioned your relationship with her during our discussion about the business deal.” 

The blonde boy responds coolly. “I did not want to give off the impression that I am only involved with her to curry favor with Wayne Industries.” 

“And knowing the danger to your reputation, you still proceeded with the partnership?” Bruce asks with a faux smile. 

“If you see the deal as a reason to doubt my loyalty to Marinette, then I can back out if you want. My family’s company can stand on its own.” 

Bruce seems surprised with the boy’s answer. Marinette pumps her fist. As expected from mon amour. She stands up with a satisfied grin and gets ready to cut into the conversation—

“What are you doing?” Stephanie whispers next to her ear. 

Marinette shrieks loudly and stumbles forward. But instead of meeting the cold hard floor and humiliating herself entirely, she’s caught by two strong arms. She opens her eyes, locking them with familiar gray ones. 

“Fe—Fe,” she stutters, face heating up. 

He gives her a charming smile. “Marinette. I was waiting for you.” 

All the while, her family members are scrutinizing the scene. Marinette blushes harder and drags her boyfriend to the dance floor, knowing that he will be subjected to the Waynes’ silent criticisms. 

She puts her arms around Felix’s neck and sways along with the music. 

“So—sorry for that,” she breathes out, resting her forehead on his chest. “They’re such a handful. But I think you impressed my dad.” 

“Hard to say, considering your brothers and father seem to be staring daggers at me.” He presses a gentle kiss on her head. 

“Please ignore them.” Marinette clutches him tighter. “Missed you. I’m so glad you went.” 

“I missed you too, my love.”

Taglist:

@maribat-bdbwm @tinybrie @sinoffalsejudgement @its-maemain @kamarallil @toughluna @golden-promises @whatamoodhoney @trippingovermyfeet @m4ster0fnone @alexizlazy @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @maybeanalien0-0 @imchaotic-dontmindme @ev-cupcake @flowers-n-fandoms @crusherccme @ji-nk-ies @depressed-bitchy-demon @duskyashe @multplelifes @authorpendragging@iloontjeboontje@thatonecroc@user00000003@paradoxaloccurance@kking13@laydeekrayzee@chaos-inperson@astol07@the-coffee-fandom@nerd-nowandforever@nightmarewasteland@certainmuffinbagelcalzone@the-hospitality-of-knives@stainedglassm@talia-scar123@trying414@starling218

*if you want to be tagged, feel free to ask in the comments and I'll add you to the taglist :)

#maribat #maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat marinette dupain cheng #fox dcw #bio dad bruce wayne #maribat batfam #maribat fic #dc x miraculous #felinette

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by: @silurisanguine, @fangbangerghoul, @aro-pancake-writes

From an upcoming chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand

True to his word, Pryce introduced Cait to the informant. The rest was up to her, and it meant dealing with a loan shark trying to collect a debt owed by a dead man. (On Neon, they called that ‘Tuesday’.) Given the strain building around her eyes, Sam had been about to suggest just buying the information, but she’d quietly, and stubbornly, agreed to negotiate with Goodman. He’d never had to deal with that particular scumbag himself—it was after his time—but he knew the breed: Benjamin Bayu wannabes with none of Bayu’s charm, talent, or ruthlessness. Didn’t keep them from being dangerous on a smaller scale, though, and if it made things easier on her, Sam was more than happy to play her muscle.

Cait talked her way into Goodman’s ‘office’ without a problem, but once faced with the loan shark himself she started to struggle. Her first few conversational gambits fell flat, and the conversation was like to go the same way it had with Shaw—badly. About halfway through the negotiation, Sam realized the problem—she was trying too hard to be diplomatic. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I told you playing nice would be a waste of time,” he said in an utterly reasonable tone of voice, pointedly shifting the set of his rifle on his shoulder. “Now can I have some fun?” He smiled at them with no humor whatsoever—it was a primate threat display, pure and simple, with a dash of crazy to spice it up. “Pretty please?”

“Now, wait a minute,” Goodman suddenly started to backpedal. “Never let it be said I wasn’t willing to negotiate in good faith. No need to let your attack dog loose.”

She reached up to cover his hand with hers—Sam wasn’t prepared for the way that one little touch seemed to sizzle right through him. “Easy there, ashta.” She said it affectionately, the kind of pet name one dangerously unstable person would give another. Between the sheer unexpectedness of it and the not-quite-adrenaline running through him, Sam was hard put not to blow the whole bluff in a fit of laughter. “He gets like this when he doesn’t get enough raw meat in his diet,” she added, and there was something a little too sharp to be true humor in her voice. “But I’d rather not have to worry about cleaning up the mess when we’re done. Do we have an agreement, then?”

“Oh, I suppose I could make an exception.” Goodman made it sound like he was bestowing a favor from on high. “Just this once. You understand.” His eyes were cold, reptilian, a frigid counterweight to the warm affability of his voice. “Just be sure to keep my, ah, compassionate nature to yourselves. Folks might try to take advantage.” And you’d take them for everything they have, Sam thought, his amusement turning cold. Personally, Sam figured the worlds would be a lot better off without people like Goodman in it—but it had cost him a little piece of his soul every time he’d been the one to make that decision.

“Naturally not,” Cait said, as he reluctantly pulled his hand away, savoring the warmth of her fingers on his until it was only a ghost. “I’m glad we could find some common ground.” She inclined her head to Goodman politely, turned, and left. Sam lingered at the office door until she was well away, just in case someone changed their mind.

#starfield #starfield oc #starfield sam coe #fanfic #sam coe #starfield neon #eridani writes

[afterdarkprincess]

Ours

After WarGames, Roman decides what Sami Zayn's place is in the bloodline, a willing hole for them to use.

A Bloodline Gangbang Fic

Thank you to @elementaldoughnut12 for the inspo and for being into all the filthy things I'm into lol

AO3 Link Here

Reminder that my blog is not safe for minors- this fic is VERY Explicit and contains: Gangbang, Everybody/Sami, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, a little bit of Solo/Roman, Feminization, Double Penetration, Anal Sex/Fingering/Rimming (More tags on AO3)

If you're not game for that- I have other less spicy (but still spicy) fics

----

The Bloodline had just one off day between Survivor Series and they planned to make the most of it. Jimmy, Jey, and Solo woke early and hit the gym in their hotel, keeping their muscles active before they spend the rest of the day resting up after the brutality of the war games match.

Usually the Honorary Uce, Sami Zayn, would join them as well, but he’d been mysteriously absent since they left the Arena the previous night. Jey usually would have grumbled to have the chatty ginger tag along, but he couldn’t deny that the man had proven himself in the match. He’d actually looked forward to seeing him this morning, but he didn’t pay it too much mind.

After their workout the boys headed to breakfast, filling up in the hotel lobby and putting away a concerning amount of food before heading back upstairs. Jimmy and Jey were splitting this weekend per usual, and Solo was put in a separate suite, but they all piled into the twin’s room to play video games.

The hours passed quickly without anyone bothering them, they’d certainly earned the respite. They ordered some food to the room as the morning faded to afternoon, and Jey was starting to get a little worried. Not having Sami around was one thing, but they also hadn’t heard a peep out of Roman, and that was odd.

A knock comes at their door, and Jey and Jimmy both put their fingers to their noses instantly, looking over at Solo as he shoots daggers at them both with his eyes.

He wordlessly gets up and goes to the door and lets their guest in the door. Jey can’t say he’s excited to see Paul Heyman but he’s used to it at this point.

Paul enters the room, and it immediately strikes Jey that the Wiseman is nervous, sweat on his brow. He’s seen the man in similar states, but usually that’s reserved for tense encounters at ringside, not on a day off when they’re supposed to be resting.

“G-gentleman, I am here on behalf of our Tribal Chief, h-he requests your presences in his suite. Immediately.”

Jimmy shoots him a confused look. “What, right now?”

Solo’s arms are crossed disapprovingly but his face is as neutral as ever.

“Y-yes, you don’t need to bring anything. Just yourselves!” The older man laughs nervously. “In fact, the Tribal Chief requested you leave everything else here.”

Jey makes a face at that. “Everythin’?”

“Please, come along! We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” Paul pulls out a handkerchief from the inside of his jacket and dabs it on his forehead.

There is a look exchanged among the brothers, but Solo shrugs and Jimmy pulls himself up off of the bed, so Jey figures there’s no point in him causing a fuss. It never works out in his favor to not do what Roman says anyway.

They follow Paul out into the hallway and pile into the elevator, taking them up to the top floor. Nothing but the best for the Undisputed Champion after all.

Paul trips up as he approaches the door, fumbling for the key card in his pocket. He finally holds it to the door and pushes it open, holding the door to let Jey and his brothers in first.

They look at each other, clearly none of them wanting to be the first one in the door. Jey shoves at Jimmy who rolls his eyes and walks in. “Don’t know what you being chicken about, Uce.” Jey follows behind his twin and Solo trails in after him with Paul coming in last.

The first thing Jey notices is that most of the lights are off in the room, then he’s hit with the distinct scent of sex in the air and he begins to feel uneasy. The room is divided off, cutting off their view of the bed or beds, but their cousin’s voice drifts through the air.

“Ah, yes. They’re here now, sweet thing.” It’s clearly not directed at them but the next order is. “Bring them here, Wiseman.”

Jey twists around to see Paul shooing them in the direction of Roman’s voice and that uneasy feeling grows in his gut. He has no idea what they’re about to get into, but whatever it is it can’t be good.

They round the corner and Jey can barely process what he’s seeing.

The bedroom of this suite contains the largest bed he’s ever seen, definitely larger than a normal king sized bed. On it is Sami, kneeling with his wrists bound behind his back with a blood red ribbon, matching the red lingerie set he’s wearing that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Roman is behind him, naked save for his tight briefs, petting Sami’s hair like he’s a cat.

Jey’s mouth goes dry.

“What the fuck is this, Uce?” Jimmy is the first to break the silence, Jey looks over at Solo who’s blushing despite himself.

Roman doesn’t answer the question right away, pressing his lips to Sami’s disheveled hair and smacking his ass before standing. Sami lets out a yelp, but otherwise keeps his eyes downcast, not looking at any of them.

“You see boys, our ‘Honorary Uce’ here has been struggling to find his purpose in our family.” Roman looks at Jey directly. “It took him a while to earn our trust, but he’s done so with hard work and dedication. I decided it was time for him to finally take his rightful place.” He gestures back to the bed, as if any of this were normal.

“What you mean ‘bout his place, Uce? H-he’s in the bloodline, he one of us.” Jey’s voice trembles, and he can’t quite look Roman in the eye.

“Right as usual, Jey. Sami is one of us now, but see he’s special. He can provide a service to our family, and he’s all too happy to do it! Tell ‘em, Sami.”

Sami’s voice comes out trembling. “Y-yes, my Tribal Chief-anything you desire, gonna be good, a good w-wife.”

“Wife?!” Jimmy asks, “Uce, I got a wife. I don’ need this.” His older brother turns to leave, but is immediately stopped by Paul.

“You don’t understand, Jimmy. Let the Tribal Chief explain.”

Roman saunters to Jimmy, placing a hand on his neck forcefully and redirecting him back towards the bed.

“Forgive me, Uce, but you’re thinking too small. Sami will serve the needs of our family as a whole, a wife for the entire bloodline, and whoever else I see fit to share him with.” On the bed, Sami’s legs are trembling, and Jey hears the faint buzzing of a vibrator and puts two and two together. “Consider it a reward! For him and for all of you, finally getting along. Anytime you need, he is yours to do with as you like.”

“And right now?” Solo finally speaks, his eyes firmly fixed at the floor, his cheeks bright red.

Roman smiles, turning to Jey’s little brother. “Think of this as a celebration for our victory. I expect each of you to be nice and share him, but you will use him. After all, you wouldn’t want Sami to feel unwanted, would you?”

Jey feels his dick stirring in his pants, becoming uncomfortably hard. Roman expects all of them to fuck Sami tonight, and as messed up as this situation is, Jey can’t deny that he’s thought about it before. What Sami might look like finally shut up with a cock in his mouth, or how he’d squeal while getting his ass fucked open.

He can’t say that he ever pictured those things with his brothers also present while they happened, but Jey’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Jimmy still looks wary, but Jey spies the bulge in his twin’s joggers and knows his resolve will crumble.

Solo on the other hand, it’s usually difficult for Jey to read him, but he sees something much more substantial than a bulge in the grey sweatpants his younger brother is wearing. Solo has always had a bit of a soft spot for Sami, and it’s certainly showing now.

Roman circles back to the bed, settling in and stroking his hands across Sami’s skin.

“So who would like to go first? He’s wet and open, though-“ Roman looks Solo up and down. “He may need additional stretching to take Solo right away. Perhaps you, Jey? You two are getting along now.” Roman speaks so casually about it all its hard for Jey to remember that he shouldn’t want this, that it isn’t normal.

He looks at Jimmy, who makes no move to join the scene on the bed, then turns to Solo who is somehow even redder than before but also not moving. He certainly doesn’t want to go first, but Sami does look tempting, and he trusts himself to be gentle with him.

“Sami? It okay if I touch?” He asks hesitantly, feeling like a fish out of water. Roman doesn’t make a comment but he does look amused at the question.

Sami finally looks up at him, and Jey’s completely done for. He looks so blissed out and pretty, his wild curls tied back into a half up bun with a red ribbon that matches everything else.

“Please, please Jey. Want you to touch me, wanted it so bad for months, wanna be good for you.” Same old Sami, a chatter box as usual, but the whining pleas go straight to his dick and he’s fully hard now.

He gives one more side glance to Roman, part of him suspecting that this is a test, but his cousin just nods, “Go on, you heard him.”

Jey takes a few steps forward towards Sami but he’s stopped by a hand across his chest.

Jimmy looks at him with wild eyes. “Ey now, Uce. Who brought Sami in as the honorary uce in the first place, huh? Think maybe I should be first.” Sami keens on the bed, and Jey watches a perfect pearl of precum slide down Sami’s dick.

He feels himself nod, but he follows Jimmy all the same. Jey climbs onto the bed, coming to face Sami while Jimmy comes up from behind, placing his hands on the full globes of Sami’s ass and giving the cheeks a squeeze.

Jey takes Sami’s face in his hands as if in a trance, “Look so pretty, uce. Look at ya, all dolled up for us. Doin’ so good.”

Sami moans, and Jey watches Jimmy pull out the vibrator that’s been holding Sami open, his twin whistling.

“Damn Sami, you was really holdin’ on to that. Can’t wait to get my dick in there.” Jimmy spits on his fingers, using the other hand to push down his joggers, freeing his hard dick. Jey’s seen it before, as children and in locker rooms, but never hard and standing proud. Mentally he’s comparing, curious if he’s bigger or smaller than his twin.

Jey can deny himself no longer, sticking one of his hands in his shorts and rubbing at his dick.

“That’s it, boys.” Roman’s deep voice rumbles, pleased, and it shouldn’t turn Jey on further, but here we are. “Show him how much you love him, how much you appreciate how good he’s been to us.”

Sami’s trembling again, “Jey- can I- I, please- want to, my mouth, please-“

Jey silences him with a rough kiss, shoving his shorts down to his knees and stroking his length. “You wanna suck me, Sami? Use that mouth for somethin’ good for once?”

“Yesyesyesyes, please Jey, please,” Sami’s babbling again and Jey feels hazy as if this is all a dream. He’s about to stick his very hard cock down Sami’s throat while his brothers and cousin look on. Not to mention-

“Wiseman!” Roman barks. “You’re no longer needed tonight.”

“But my Tribal Chief-“ Jey had almost forgotten Paul lurking in the shadows.

“You heard what I said, leave.” Roman’s tone left no room for discussion and the older man bowed his head and left the room. “Come here, Solo. Watch with me.”

Jey watched his baby brother make his way to the bed, sitting gingerly next to their cousin as a wet spot grows on his sweatpants, doing nothing to hide the full girth of him.   Sami cries out and it pulls his attention back, he watches as Jimmy pushes his dick inside Sami’s hole, disappearing into his body with a snap of his hips. Jimmy sets a steady pace, drilling in and out and groaning.

Jey’s dick jumps painfully and he can wait no longer. “Uce, grab his hands.” He helps Sami drop his torso, leaning forward with his own strength and only held up by Jimmy’s hands.

Sami wastes no time, the second Jey’s dick is in reach he’s licking with his tongue and wrapping his mouth around him, enveloping him in warm, tight heat. Jey has to concentrate on not blowing his load immediately, his hands threaded in Sami’s hair, acting as a handle for him to fuck into the man’s face. Sami moans like a whore and the vibrations drive him wild.

Jimmy’s rhythm picks up, jackhammering his dick into Sami’s hole and chasing his release. Jey realizes distantly that no one had mentioned anything about condoms, but they all had to be tested for all manner of things regularly so it wasn’t a huge issue, but he could already picture the image of Sami leaking, full of a mixture of all of their cum and he had to pause to keep from wasting his cum on Sami’s throat.

He pulls out of Sami’s mouth, much to the man’s displeasure and Jimmy yanks Sami back up as he grinds his dick deep inside him and fills him with his first load.

Sami is babbling a litany of “fuck” and “thank you’s” and Jey’s itching to get his turn inside.

His twin pulls out, giving Sami a quick smack on the ass as he goes, rolling to rest against the headboard beside Roman.

Jey chooses to remain where he is, rearranging and propping himself up to sit with his legs out long, before guiding Sami to straddle him. “Wan’ you to ride me, baby. Can you do that?”

Sami nods vigorously, lowering himself down inch by inch onto Jey’s cock, throwing his head back to expose the long line of his throat.

Jey’s propped up enough that Sami’s little tits are eye level, jiggling and bouncing as he moves himself up and down Jey’s cock. He takes a handful of one, rubbing his thumb around Sami’s puffy little nipples and enjoying the whines that it draws out of him.

From the side of his eye, he sees Roman reach over, taking pity on Solo and freeing his heavy thick dick, taking it into his big hand and giving it a stroke. “Let me help you, it’s okay Solo.”

Solo whimpers, looking down at his cousin’s hand on his dick, slicking it with his spit.

Jey focuses back in on the feeling of Sami’s hot walls caressing him. He can’t keep his hips still, bucking up into that tight heat as he listens to his little brother moan. He’s lasted quite a while between Sami’s mouth and his ass and he can’t hold himself back any longer. Jey brings his hand down to Sami’s hard dick and jerks him roughly, hearing his whines crescendo as his own orgasm approaches. He buries himself in Sami and paints his insides with hot cum, feeling his dick twitch as Sami’s walls spasm, milking him for every drop as Sami sprays his own stomach with cum.

He keeps himself inside Sami as long as he can, bringing his thumb down when he pulls out, catching the cum that dribbles out and pushing it back inside.

“He’s ready for ya, lil uce.” Jey says, eyeing Solo, who refuses to meet his gaze, Roman’s hand still on him.

Sami moves closer to Solo on the bed, fixing him with his big puppy eyes. “How do you want me, Solo?’

“O-on your back.”

Jey moves to help Sami, releasing the ribbon around his wrists and maneuvering him onto the bed, legs splayed open towards Solo. He nods at Jimmy who tosses him a couple pillows. He sticks one under Sami’s neck and then lifts Sami’s hips, propping them up with the other.

Solo slowly moves forward, Roman keeping hold of the waistband of his sweats, pulling them down and tucking the band under Solo’s heavy balls.

The pillow puts Sami’s hole right in line with his tip, the fat head kissing Sami’s hole teasingly. Despite having just been fucked, Solo’s wide girth is still a stretch for Sami, and the slide in is painfully slow.

Jey’s at a perfect angle to watch Solo sink into Sami’s tight heat, stares at the red rim of Sami’s hole where he’s stretched, listening to the little breathy sighs escaping the gingers mouth.

Solo’s hands are hovering above Sami’s thighs awkwardly as if he’s afraid to touch him or unsure where to. Jey reaches over, gently guiding Solo’s hands to grip at Sami’s thighs, pulling them down and spearing him further on Solo’s cock.

Solo’s hips finally meet Sami’s ass, groaning as Sami mumbles, “So big, so full, fuck feels so good Solo, thank you baby.”

Jey watches his younger brother’s face soften as he leans down to give Sami a sweet kiss. Solo takes one of Sami’s hands in his own, threading their fingers together before he drags his hips back and fucks back into Sami at a brutal pace.

Sami howls, his dick fully hard again and slapping against his stomach with each of Solo’s powerful thrusts.

Behind them, Roman watches on with a proud grin, gaze lecherous. His hand wanders back to Solo’s sweats, dipping inside and disappearing between his thick cheeks. Jey can’t see what he’s doing exactly but from the look on Solo’s face and the way he’s viciously fucking Sami it’s not hard to imagine.

Solo doesn’t last much longer after that, emptying himself inside Sami as he gives a low primal cry.

Sami’s still hard and he nearly comes unglued when Solo pulls out of him. Jey sees tears rolling down the side of Sami’s face but the smile on his face reassures him.

Roman removes his hand from Solo’s ass, coming up to pat him on the back approvingly. “Good job, Solo. Made me proud.” Solo blushes deeply and comes to Jey’s side like he’s a child again, resting his head against his older brother’s shoulder. Roman raises to his knees, climbing out of the bed to free himself of his briefs, releasing his ragingly hard cock.

Again, Jey’s seen Roman’s dick before. They grew up together and shared locker rooms all their lives, the length of him always impressive. But never has he seen his cousin like this, rock hard and dripping. Solo is thick and intense but Roman is that and much longer, his tip curving toward the ceiling.

Jey watches Sami’s eyes trailing to Roman, taking in the sight of him and the look on his face of sheer want and longing.

“Come here, sweet thing,” Roman says, leaving no room for argument and Sami scrambles to his hands and knees to obey. He stops at the edge of the bed, meeting Roman’s erection at eye level and opening his mouth to let his tongue loll out. “So obedient, such a good wife. Look how happy you’ve made them, Sami.”

Sami’s head swivels, taking in the sight of Jimmy, Solo, and Jey in various states of undress. “Thank you, my Tribal Chief, thank you,”

Roman cups Sami’s face in his hands, “You’ve earned your reward, baby. Now get my dick ready.”

Sami licks at the head of Roman’s dick eagerly, slobbering as he takes it into his mouth and sucks on the head. Roman pushes him down further, feeding more of his cock into Sami’s mouth and throat. The ginger takes it all, moaning like a cheap whore, and Jey remembers what that felt like on his own dick. He’s getting hard again, and he can see Solo’s dick stirring beside him. Surely Jimmy is effected by the scene in front of them as well.

Roman uses Sami’s mouth for a few minutes, getting wet and sloppy as Sami drools and gags around the monster of a cock. Tears trail down Sami’s face as he fights for breath, but his dick is still hard and leaking and the look on his face is one of pure ecstasy.

Roman unceremoniously pulls out of Sami’s mouth, leaving him panting for breath, a few strings of spit still connecting his pretty pink mouth to the fat cock head. “Present yourself,” His deep voice left no room for questioning and Sami scrambled to obey.

He arranges himself on his hands and knees before dropping down onto his elbows and presenting his hole to the Tribal Chief.

Jey’s vantage point left him with a view of Sami’s face and the long curved line of his back, watching as his cousin aligns that huge thick dick of his up against Sami’s hole. He presses in with no delay or mercy and Jey watches Sami’s eyes roll back and his mouth drop open.

Roman fucks him rough, setting a fast pace with little regard for Sami or his abused hole. Sami takes it though, and for the first time all evening he’s completely silent save for his whines and moans. Roman seems to have fucked the words right out of him.

“Such a sweet little thing,” The Tribal Chief smiles down at the sight below him, Sami blissed out taking his cock and his cousins watching on. “Do you see now? This is where he belongs- his rightful place, right Sami?”

Sami makes a pitiful noise that sounds like a yes but that doesn’t seem to satisfy Roman. One of his hands comes down and wraps around Sami’s throat gripping tightly. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The ginger nods, as much as Roman’s grip will allow, his voice coming out hoarse. “Y-yes, yes, love it, Daddy.”

Roman’s grip relaxes on his throat and he pats Sami’s head instead. “Good girl,” He hits him with a particularly hard thrust, shaking the bed with the force of it and Jey feels his dick begin to leak again. “I want you to come just from my dick, you can do it.”

Sami cries, but he nods his head, unwilling to disobey. Roman jackhammers into him over and over again, gripping tight enough on his hips to leave bruises. Sami’s hips and thighs quiver and shake until finally his dick erupts, shooting long ropes of cum onto the bedsheets and he screams.

Roman fucks him through it, delivery a few more powerful thrusts to his ass before he sighs, tossing his head back and grinding his hips to Sami’s ass.

Sami collapses further onto the bed when Roman pulls out of him, boneless and sated.

The Tribal Chief gazes upon him with fondness, but he reminds him all the same. “Keep that cum inside you, baby.”

Solo looks at Jey, eyes searching for something but Jey doesn’t know how to answer him. He then looks to Roman as the older man situates himself again at the head of the bed, his softening cock on full display.

“Can I…?” Solo starts, then clears his throat. “C-can I go again?”

Sami looks up at them, eyes on Solo’s dick with hunger all over his face.

Roman laughs, “Of course you can, Solo. You can all go as many times as you like, the only thing I ask is that you finish in his ass so we can plug him when we’re done.”

Solo moves from Jey’s side, quickly stuffing his dick into Sami’s awaiting mouth.

They go on like that for hours, passing Sami back and forth between them, getting creative with the things they do to his body.

Solo holding Sami up against the wall, body folded in half as he fucks another load into him.

Roman pressing Sami’s face against the glass window as he viciously plows him, whispering about all the people who might be watching below and seeing Sami for the dirty slut he is.

Jimmy holding Sami’s face down on his dick until he’s crying again, then slamming into his ass.

Jey biting and sucking at Sami’s nipples as he fucks him in missionary position, leaving bruises in his wake.

As Solo recovers from one orgasm, he shyly asks Roman if he’d finger him again, voice hushed as if to hide this from his brothers. The Tribal Chief was halfway into Sami’s hole again, so he instructs Sami to please the youngest instead. Jimmy and Jey watch with rapt fascination as Sami carefully slips a finger into Solo, who blushes and moans. They continue for a while, Roman lazily fucking into Sami while he explores and stretches Solo.

Roman stills for a moment, addressing Solo. “You should sit on his face, little Uce. Bet he’d love that.”

Sami babbles, “Please, yes, please Solo lemme taste, please.”

Solo turns bright red, but he moves all the same. Sami removes his fingers and lays back as the younger man slowly straddles his face.

Roman resumes his slow and steady pace, eyes bouncing between watching his dick disappear into Sami’s hole and the sight of Solo completely obscuring Sami’s face from view. His heavy dick bounces against the pale skin of Sami’s chest, and his breathy moans are drowned out by the sounds Sami is making underneath him.

Roman finishes inside Sami not long after and reminds Solo to do the same, no matter how good it feels they’re not to waste any of their seed.

Jey is struck with an idea, whispers it into his twin’s ear and watches the smile that splits across his face. Jey takes hold of Sami, moves him like a rag doll, pliable and willing as Jey lays on his back and positions Sami to ride him again.

This time however, Jimmy lingers behind Sami, watching as Sami takes the length of Jey’s cock, and holding him still when he tries to start bouncing. Jimmy takes his fingers around the red stretched rim of Sami’s hole, entering two alongside his twin’s cock. They enter pretty easily after taking Solo and Roman’s much thicker dicks, but Sami moans all the same.

Jey patiently waits while Jimmy stretches Sami further, noticing how Roman and Solo watch intently. Jimmy works four of his fingers in before deciding that Sami has been stretched enough, lining his dick up next to Jey’s and pressing in.

Sami howls when Jimmy finally gets himself fully inside. Jey holds himself still, despite barely moving while Jimmy prepped him, he’s still fully hard and nearly ready to topple over the edge again just from the tight feel of Sami’s hole stretched around him and the feel of Jimmy’s cock nestled next to his.

They’ve always had that twin connection, it’s what makes them a good tag team, and they feel it now. They can’t thrust too hard or quickly with how tight Sami is around them, but they move in tandem fucking in and out. Jey pinches at the red and puffy nipples he abused earlier, and Jimmy gives Sami a few slaps on his ass and Sami cries as he comes undone again with a pathetic squirt of cum onto Jey’s stomach. They feel it in his ass though, the rippling muscles milking them both to twin orgasms, their cum mixing inside with the rest of the cum all of them have left inside Sami.

—

Solo is the first to fall asleep, passing out after busting a fourth orgasm while Sami rides him.

Sami has to clench hard after each bout to keep all their cum inside, careful to lose as little as possible.

Jimmy has Sami suck him nearly to completion, enjoying those whore moans before pulling out to press just his tip against Sami’s hole and let it loose inside. Then he too curls up on the stained sheets and closes his eyes.

Sami can barely hold himself up anymore and neither can Jey so he buries his last load in his hole fucking him on their sides while spooning. He leaves more bites and bruises on Sami’s neck, adding to the collection of marks that all of them have left on his body.

Jey blinks his eyes blearily as Roman joins them on the bed. He’d taken off to shower after Solo had fallen asleep, but he returned just as nude as he’d left.

“You want ‘im, big uce?” Jey offers.

“Think it’s a little late for that,” Roman chuckles, gesturing to Sami’s slack and peaceful face, completely asleep with Jey softening inside of him. “Put this in him though.”

Roman hands over a beautiful blood red butt plug with a glittering ruby at the flared base. It was sturdy and soft, expensive.

Jey pulls out of Sami, hands ready to push any cum that tries to escape back inside. Only a little dribbles out, and he gently kneads it back inside with his thumb before following it with the massive plug.

Sami gives a little sleepy whine when he gets it inside but he settles and starts snoring softly.

Roman gets in the bed on the other side of Sami, sandwiching him between them. “Look Jey,” He says softly.

Jey’s eyes follow Roman’s to his hand cupping the bump of Sami’s lower stomach, swollen with the amount of cum they’ve left inside of him. His tired fucked out mind can only think of one thing, no matter how absurd it is.

“We knocked ‘im up,” Not a question, just a statement of fact.

Roman smiles, nodding his head and rubbing at the bump with his thumb. “Ours.”

#the bloodline #sami zayn #roman reigns #jimmy uso #jey uso #solo sikoa #wwe fanfiction #my writing

[greatunironic]

self rec game

thank you @ruthofrhythm for the tag!!

rules: recommend three of your own fics (1 most popular, two hidden gems) then tag some people!

most popular the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it's you (steve/eddie, the whole gang, 35k words)

Sixteen years after the world didn't end for the last time, Max Mayfield showed up on Steve’s doorstep and said, “You gonna walk me down the aisle in May or what?” Or, it's 2002 and Steve Harrington attends a wedding, a funeral, and a birth.

hidden gems second hand unwinding (steve/eddie, eddie, nancy, robin, and the party, 23.6k)

“Back in tenth grade, he’d done his final report for World History on prophecies. The Greeks were kind of the last people who’d really made a big deal about it, even though there’d been recorded True Prophecies well into the 19th and 20th centuries. It was more that people had gotten weird about it — didn’t want to believe in predestination and a concrete future, even though it was something like a one in a billion chance you’d get a True Prophecy about yourself or even someone you knew; people just liked to feel special, Eddie thought, and hated when they weren’t — and so it had slid to the fringes of society and anyone who might have Sight got swept into the insular embrace of the Priestesses of the Quiet Sisters.” Or: Steve dies at the end. Or: a story about prophecies, love, and loopholes.

cause in the back of my mind, i'm in the back of your car (steve/eddie, steve, eddie, robin, max, erica, 68k)

"It was overcast at Silverstone, that afternoon. It was cooler than last year, the wind from Friday had died down significantly, and the likelihood of seeing rain was slim to none. Conditions were favorable, and Steve had had good runs in practice and snagged P2 to start. Max had officially made her test debut for the team Saturday too, and Erica, despite her age, had gotten to be her race engineer; Max was going to get elevated out of testing and dev within the next two years and make motorsport history, and Erica was going to be the youngest race engineer in F1 history shortly there after, mark his words."

In which Steve started racing go-karts at ten, and never looked back.

i think most people have done it so far, but if you haven't consider this my request that you do, if you see this!! hype yourselves homies!!!

#stranger things #fic

[carnal-lnstinct]

End of Year Wrap

Another year coming to an end and another joy in working behind this blog. There has been so much good to come this year that of course I have to give the credit where it is due and it comes from everyone who follows, interacts with, and encourages the content of this blog. Thank you all! Always for the support, the idea sharing, the requests, and everything that has helped make this an unforgettable and fun experience for me. From the bottom of my heart, the love I have received has been so meaningful to me.

Happy Holidays and A Happy New Year to everyone!

Individual appreciation

For those who made this year much more enjoyable than it already was and just some kind words to those who, even without realizing it, never fails to be just what I needed at the right moment ♥

@blue-wristbands

My dearest friendo! You have been nothing less than a blessing to this blog. ♥ Always supporting my wild musings and inspiring me left and right without even trying. Plus your art is amazing and I hope we all get to see more of it in the year to come. Your kindness and friendship has been very special to me, I hope only the best for you!

@emmacornell

First off, thank you for opening my eyes to the joy of Raditz and his thighs potential. I'm thrilled that in this year I had the chance to interact with you, share interests with you, bounce ideas off you (EVERYONE THANK EMMA FOR SCOURGE OF THE STARS RIGHT NOW), and actually get to see your writing! You catch a lot of references I make in my fics and tags and that always puts a smile on my face! You are without a doubt someone who keeps me excited about writing and I need you to know your writing is beautiful and with your blessing we may see more of that in the future! And I mean be feral about it

@kayisonline

We've gotten to interact more towards the end of the year and you've really been a delight to talk to! I feel honored that you trust to speak with me about things in your life and share some of your interests with me! Especially about Gohan and Vegito ♥♥

@beneathstarryskies & @actuallysaiyan

Protect these two at all costs! I had to acknowledge you both together because I consider you guys the dynamic duo of my dash! ♥ You are more than an inspiration to me than you know and I lose my mind when you reference me in your posts. We have a lot in common which is an even bigger bonus and there are not enough words to say how great a pair of writers you are. I am looking forward to what ideas you bring out for the next year! Please always be kind and patient to yourselves, your writing is always amazing and we will always love it!

@missnebulaasnebul

fellow Vegito lover 🤝The niche you created with your blog is so special and that one VegitoxBlack!Reader fic killed me please always write more for the fusion boys. Your headcanons especially are so well versed and thought out, it gives so much more depth to fusions than "they're just goku and vegeta fused". That is love and that is care put into what matters most to you and these are so important! I'm happy to know your blog exists and can't wait to see what you make next. ♥

@miss-taura

You are very kind and have been since the first time we spoke! You have also encouraged fics for SS4 of all saiyans and that is crazy but I'm crazy with you and I cannot lie. ♥ Our interactions have been brief but always so pleasant!

There are so many people that have brought so much friendly interaction and support whether one-offs or on the regular that I can't quite think of everyone, but thank you all so, so much! You all have my love.

For the future

At this time, I'm not certain of all the events and holidays I will be participating in, but I will keep everyone updated as much as I can. Favored events will definitely come back and feel free to recommend any events you think would be a good fit for this blog. Requests will continue, but I will be using the rest of December to work on my own fics. I look forward to doing more events, get into collabs, creating new series, and, as my comfort grows with writing characters, expanding on writing requests if possible!

Lost WIPs

Can't send off the year without some writing wips that didn't quite make it, so since I have nothing better to do than to reflect on the stories and wips here's a synopsis of things I thought I wanted to write but didn't 👌🏾 (yes they are mostly dwd-related it rules my thoughts 24/7)

Neither Goku, Nor Vegeta - Vegito

Because of course I wanted a Vegito version of it! Though, I wouldn't have written him as jealous as Gogeta was rather than just obnoxiously confident of the impression he would leave on the reader. What can you do about it with his dick inside ya? Nothing, that's what!

Pouncy Super Saiyan 4s

This one was just a headcanon post for signs SS4!Saiyans give off before they "pounce" on the reader. I love an excuse to write feral, needy boys okay. there was gonna be cuddling

Toppin' Vegeta

Gotta get wasted and top saiyans, that's the key. But I got writer's block with this one and didn't go back to it.

Yandere!Goku

This one was less yandere and more of some just straight-up evil au. Like if the wishes made on the dragon balls worked like a monkey's paw or evil genie's wish. So if Goku dies and you bring him back to life, what did you bring back with him? Did you bring all of him back, or what is this creature possessing the body of the strongest warrior on Earth who fucking READS MINDS? Kinda inspired by AHS:C0ven

Hard At Work - Lifeguard!Raditz

When you go to a resort and thick-legged lifeguard keeps finding you around the beach. All from an ask I sent emma ♥ Would have been about that ONE THING I can't avoid in writing but actually on purpose.

Remaining Saiyans AU

That AU I wrote before about how surviving saiyans are basically hunted and captured as the last of their kind to be put to work or...used. And of course it would have been an au where SS4 is the default look. My dropped Vegeta fic for smu//tember would have been an introduction to it to see if I really wanted to delve into that au but I guess I didn't. Actually I might still do it but it would be a loooong time before it comes out xD

DWD Sex Pollen Trope

I didn't know EXACTLY what the SP Trope was until I looked it up and realized it was basically the Elysia fruit from DWD Valentines Day fic. I loved the idea of the fruit so much I wanted to write another fic about it where A) Chi Chi actually got Goku to grow an Elysia Fruit Tree to sell the fruit and it just fucks up the atmosphere and those around it get super horny for science or B) Kamidere goes to the planet Ambrosi to get another fruit and takes Goku and Vegeta with her.

DWD Yamoshi!Vegeta x Kamidere Reincarnated Trope

I don't fully remember, but I did want it to be like if Yamoshi was reincarnated as Vegeta and upon becoming a SSG remembers his past life and interactions shared with the God of Destruction who came to Planet Vegeta. As in Goku and Vegeta were not her first saiyans to be fond of. Also further going into the dream of the Super Saiyan God (or seer fish prediction, whichever is "canon") that is really why she went searching for him.

Divinely Favored Follow up

This was just going to be two fics, one for each pairing where Vegeta and Goku reveal what the winner wanted from Kamidere. also more threesomes with the wives because why not. It was just gonna be "normal" for the pairing now. Spice up your marriage with a destroyer god 👌🏾But I think where they ended is fine and didn't need a follow-up.

Lot of good, fun ideas with poor timing and planning put into them. Maybe they die with the year, maybe I come back to them and tweak them with a fresher approach. We will see ♥♥♥

[svtcarat-exo-l]

Wayfinder - Part 2

Part of The Syndicate AU Series

Mafia!Yuta x Street Racer!Y/N

A/N: Part 2! We finally meet Yuta! The next chapter will be the first part of Taeyong’s story, so stay tuned. Thank you guys for showing the first chapter so much love - it means the world to me! - Love, M

Tag list: @scuzmunkie​ (Let me know if you want to be added here!)

SERIES MASTERLIST  

Despite the persistent curiosity whispering in your ear you managed to go the entire race without meeting a single one of the mafia members present. Judging by the way Jaemin was glued to your side before the race and how Jeno hovered during - Renjun's intention was to keep you separated from Taeyong and his three accomplices.

All you'd learned were the names to go with the faces. Taeyong, Mark, Johnny, and Jungwoo.

Half of the eight-strong inner circle.

Renjun must've wanted to get a solid read on their intentions before exposing his whole operation just in case the deal went sideways. An effort that you couldn't help thinking might be futile when dealing with organized crime at this level.

The inner circle's influence was cast over the entire city like a massive spider web - a system of strings connecting them with those that owed them their loyalty and those who owed them favors. All they needed to do was tug on the right thread. With an information superhighway that large they could very well know everything about everyone already.

Maybe you'd been very foolish to think you could be a part of the night life of this city without it bleeding into your quiet existence during the day. The collision of your two worlds was starting to look more and more inevitable.

Even with your mind full of distractions the race went exactly as planned. 

You and Mina pulled off the win almost effortlessly. The only real competition was a driver from out of town in a monster of a car, but Mina's Mazda had no trouble overtaking it with the maneuvers you suggested while watching through the live feed from her dash camera. 

Jaemin finished half a second behind her in his gorgeous Corvette Stingray - a ride you'd happily steal if you knew you could get away with it.

The Neos certainly got a good show.

You, on the other hand, had been bored completely out of your mind.

Of course you would always be grateful for the security that came from working with Renjun, but now how your driver performed in the races was being determined by someone else. Whether Mina placed first or last was all strategy to make money and keep the crowd happy.

Success no longer came from being the best - It came from following orders, and each victory felt more hollow because of it.

You chaffed against the lack of autonomy - missing when you clawed and reached for the finish line with every fiber of your being because it was what you wanted, even if it was only through giving guidance over radio.

Really acknowledging the change would have to wait, because Renjun needed you to be a unified front right now. There was no room for the doubts you were starting to feel.

Thankfully, the universe decided to throw another distraction at you.

After winning the race you received an invitation to the midnight gala the other half of Taeyong's inner circle must've been hosting while he attended the races.

Apparently the crime lords wanted the winning team to attend with Renjun, something about a show of good faith, but it was obvious they just already knew who in the organization was in cahoots with Jun when Jaemin secured an invite as well.

In a surprising and kind of disconcerting bit of foresight one of the men, Mark, had handed Mina two gowns in garment bags as he left at midnight.

It had taken half an hour for both you and Mina to hurriedly get dressed and throw yourselves into her car - still trailing behind the boys by quite a few minutes. 

Why this party had to be on the same night was beyond you.

Now you were climbing the grand staircase alone while Mina parked her car, because she certainly wasn't going to trust the valet with her baby when she never even let you drive the thing.

Your anxious fingers smoothed out the fabric of the blue gown you'd instantly fallen in love with for it’s soft off the shoulder sleeves and gathered waist. It was probably the most beautiful item of clothing you'd ever worn, and definitely the most luxury judging by the high-end name on the label.

Secretly, you already hoped you'd get to keep it.

While passing through the crowd outside the hotel entrance the usual murmurs that followed your movements met your ears, and as you walked you caught snippets of your greatest moments being retold with awed reverence.

Your skills brought attention from around the world, attracting new challengers, and in Renjun's eyes there wasn’t much else he could ask for from his sponsored navigator.

To survive this party you needed to let the acknowledgment of your talent fuel you ego. Feeding their admiration and confidence into the darkness within you that reveled in notoriety, you collected all of your nerve and drew your false persona around you like a cloak - dressing yourself once more in the costume of the genius navigator.

A detailed ruse that allowed you to feel like more than you were.

Your fingers trailed your mask, finding comfort in the familiar contours. It was a delicate, sculpted work of silver – an upgrade from the simple cloth ones you’d worn back when you and Mina were on your own. Renjun had it made specifically for your first race on his personal line up.

Thus - the silver dragon had been born.

Someone confident, sensual, and completely unlike yourself.

Feeling centered again, your eyes swept the room from your new position in the entry hall. It was a massive space washed warm and golden in the glow from hanging chandeliers - the skylights above them showing just a hint of the night sky outside.

Mina caught up to you, but her greeting was cut short when she was frozen by intense eye contact with Taeyong, who had chosen a vantage point on one of the carved marble balconies overlooking the crowd. You had a vague memory of seeing him speaking to Mina before the race, and from the looks they were exchanging you could only guess where it was going.

Organized criminals do tend to stick together.

She sent you an apologetic glance that you waved away with a look that said 'go have fun', so she slipped into the fray to make her way to him. You trusted her to handle herself.

As you moved further into the space you still caught the occasional glance directed at your mask.

For the first time, you felt a bit uncomfortable behind the silver. Those gathered outside had heard of you, but to the elites in the ballroom you had no reputation – you weren’t “the silver dragon”. That larger than life person was easy to find in the dimly lit night, but in the warm glittering hall you felt small again.

Surprisingly, a smile crossed your face at the thought while you grabbed a drink from a passing waiter.

Another thing you hadn’t really admitted to yourself was that the secrecy and the act wasn’t as fun as it used to be. It was exhausting to heave up an iron front every evening to then tear it down again in the morning.

A tinge of sadness fell over your features right as you caught the gaze of a man across the crowd.

Except he was far different than the others.

He was maybe the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and the connection between you crackled with a kind of electricity that stole your breath in a way you'd never felt before.

He held you attention with authority and blatant curiosity until a teasing smirk tilted up the corner of his mouth, shaping his expression into one of mischief. It reminded you that you were staring at a stranger, so you quickly turned away from the boy who you were certain was a member of the inner circle.

No one else could hold that kind of easy dominance in their eyes.

Embarrassed and flushed, you tilted you mask up just enough to down your entire flute of champagne, an expensive year no doubt, and began to walk a circle around the room. A majority of the guests were swirling gracefully on the dance floor to the Bach you recognized flowing from the live string quartet.

Then more people started to notice you.

The glances turned into stares, then staring turned into whispers hidden behind raised hands. Knowing they were talking about you made your hands shake when you set the empty glass on another waiter’s tray. Before you could convince yourself to turn around and leave - your thoughts were interrupted.

"Well, you're new." A voice rumbled behind you.

You turned to face who had approached you and recognized him immediately.

Up close you could drink in even more details.

His hair was a mane of warm chocolate brown, long enough for the curls to just brush his shoulders. Multiple piercings decorated his ears, and the relaxed way he wore his suit told you he had a much more devil-may-care attitude than the other polished, sharply dressed patrons. Several of his shirt's buttons were left undone revealing layered necklaces laying over smooth, bronzed skin that you tried not to let your eyes trail for too long.

Your first impression was correct. He was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen.

Dark eyes locked onto yours through the mask and you got the uncanny feeling he could see right through you -  like any illusions about you shattered before him, so any words that could’ve escaped you caught in your throat.

"I would recognize someone I'd seen before behind a mask, but you I don't." He explained after your silence with a raised brow that told you he'd noticed your appraisal. "Do I get the honor of knowing your name?"

That smile sent your heart right into your throat. Captivated, your mouth opened almost unconsciously and you had to bite your lip to keep the syllables of your name from escaping. He'd said maybe two sentences and already your resolve for anonymity was crumbling alongside your false facade.

He didn’t seem to mind your hesitation and offered you his hand. "That's alright, you don’t have to tell me. Dance with me instead?"

The gentleness in his eyes kept you from refusing flat out, but it was the genuine, hopeful lift of his eyebrows that convinced you to step forward and place your hand in his. Familiar callouses, the ones that came from handling firearms, greeted you on his palms.

You looked up at him and your voice finally returned to you when the silence carried on too long to be comfortable.

"I would like that." A simple response. You were here after all, you might as well enjoy a dance with a dashing mafia scoundrel and sate just a touch of your determined curiosity to understand them.

His grin broadened at your voice. "Ah, she speaks at last."

You laughed thankfully at his ice breaking and followed his lead onto the dance floor. "Sorry, you took me by surprise that's all."

"I didn't mean to scare you." He stopped in an opening between the couples already dancing and when he turned back to face you the warmth in his eyes was magnetic. Wow. "My name’s Yuta."

The name suited him perfectly, and you tested it out in your mind - committing the shape and feel of it to memory. But still you clamped down on the impulse to say your own name despite everything inside you saying you could trust him. 

Yet instead of pushing Yuta gracefully moved past the subject with tact. As a mafia elite you were sure he was used to forcing information out of people, but it seemed like with you there was an exception.

Yuta took a few steps closer, his gaze never wavering, and when you could just catch a faint whisper of his cologne he rested the hand not holding yours on your waist.

"May I?" He asked.

When you nodded, once again speechless, he pulled you nearly flush to his chest, and you hoped he didn’t hear the gasp that passed your lips. From there he eased you into a waltz as the music slowly transitioned to a new melody.

You were thankful to find Yuta’s lead forgiving. His grip easily adjusted to support you in the moments you faltered, so the steps were at least somewhat graceful. A flush threatened to redden your face because of the affect his warm, steady hands were having on you.

Comfortable silence stretched for a few seconds before he spoke up again – dipping his head closer to your ear to keep the conversation private.

"This is your first time waltzing, isn't it?" Despite not seeing his face you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Is it that obvious?" You admitted, embarrassed at it being so apparent.

"Painfully." Yuta answered, continuing in a exaggerated whisper. "You've stepped on my toe three times."

Your heart jumped and an apology started to bubble out of you, but with one quick movement he spun you into a turn and you landed naturally back into his arms - eyes locked with his once more.

"But I'd say you're a natural." He spoke softly and looked as affected as you had been feeling for a moment before the flirtation blended back into him, mixing with this new earnest aura. "Is this your first gala as well?"

It took you a second longer than him to change directions back to normal conversation. You had to admit that now this dance was about more than satisfying some selfish curiosity about the mafia. It was about Yuta. Only him.

"I can't say I've ever been to a party like this." A party full of the biggest names in organized crime, one of which was a man making you dizzy with his attention.

Almost like he could read your mind amusement lit up his face. "How do you like it?"

You weren’t sure how to answer. If your assumption was correct it was his party, so you didn’t want to say you felt completely out of place, but you also didn’t want to lie to someone you were starting to hope you'd see again after this night.

So, you went with a noncommittal response.

"It's… very different from my usual crowd." As soon as you said the words you knew what question was coming next.

As expected he settled onto the topic. "And what might that be?"

The pause that followed almost made you abandon being truthful, but when he took in a breath to again change the subject for your comfort you interjected before he could. "The street racers. I'm a part of Renjun's crew."

You drew back to gauge his reaction, and his smile told you he was pleased that you'd chosen reveal more about yourself to him.

"So, you're the famous navigator Taeyong mentioned.“ The familiar way he spoke the leaders name confirmed for you he was a member of the inner circle. Knowing that your reputation preceded you, that you'd impressed Taeyong, gave you a bit of your fire back.

“What gave me away?” For the first time you were the one teasing him, and it definitely didn't go unnoticed.

“Word travels. You're the most talented navigator in the country, yet no one knows your name or face. Only the silver mask." He tapped your jaw lightly, and you found yourself wishing you could've felt the touch on your skin. "I did detailed background checks on everyone else. I can tell you what Jaemin got on his 3rd grade math final, but you are the anonymous enigma.”

The teasing lilt in his voice and mirth in his eyes was all that kept you from making a biting remark about privacy.

“I wasn’t aware I’d become an urban legend.” The quip had an edge to it still, but he laughed at your words - a bubbly and intoxicating sound.

"Well." He started, pulling you closer again. "It's one of the many reasons no one can take their eyes off of you."

His voice had dropped as he said the words, the tone deep and honeyed, but before you could melt into the floor he spun you out again. Your dress swirled around your feet in an arc until he settled you back into his arms - your faces mere inches apart. He's good. It was obvious that Yuta was a master of this cat and mouse game. He understood social rhythm at such a deep level that keeping you guessing at every turn, interested at every moment, was easy as breathing.

And to you it was breathtaking.

"Are you sure they aren't looking at you?" Your voice was lighter than you expected, and he chuckled again. Yuta boldly dropped his eyes to take you in for a moment so long that your heart rate skyrocketed.

"No it's you." His focus settled on something over your shoulder. "Except for Renjun, he looks like he wants to run me over with his car."

"He'd use someone else's car." The response was automatic and jokingly casual, so when Yuta's brows shot up into his hairline you just had to explain yourself to keep the bit going. "He drives a fully restored 1965 Ford GT40. Those bumpers aren't cheap."

Yuta easily followed you up. "Well, it's nice to know he wouldn't ruin a perfectly good bumper to take me down."

His humor fitting so well with yours made you warm inside, so you decided to help him out with the overprotective glare you could practically sense being thrown at him from across the way.

"Turn us around and I'll take care of him." Renjun's hair made it easy to find him in the crowd. His concern wilted under the look you gave him, and one short silent conversation later he gave you a reluctant nod, melting back into the mass of people. You hadn't noticed that Yuta had turned to watch the exchange, but when your focus came back to him he threw his head back cackling. "What?"

"Remind me not to get on your bad side."

Something about that moment broke the last bit of your resolve just as the last bars of music played and the dance ended. What harm could your first name do?

"My name's Y/N."

His grin in response rivaled any other he'd given you before.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N." Yuta lowered his brows seriously. "And don't worry, that stays between you and me. Renjun told us you want your identity classified - I promise you it will stay that way."

"Thank you." The courtesy he'd just given you was more than you'd ever expected. The rumors that had led you to giving this a chance might be turning out to be more real than you and Renjun thought.

"I know Renjun doesn't trust us yet, but-"

Yuta's voice faded to the background of your mind when you spotted a familiar face sporting a vile grin floating in your periphery. Your blood ran cold. Impossible. You whipped around but he was already gone - vanishing like a phantom into thin air, but you'd seen him and known he was real.

Panic stole your breath, crushing your chest under it's weight, and you began a new frantic search for Renjun. He had to know. Everyone needed to know.

He was back.

"Y/N!" Gentle hands caught your shoulders and you remembered Yuta was still with you. "What's wrong?"

Glass was shattering and raining down around you before you could explain that now the real monster was here.

#NCT #nct x reader #nct yuta #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta x reader #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 au #nct mafia au #nct mafia fic #nct dream au #nct dream #NCT 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct au #nct fanfic #nct fanfiction #nct 127 fluff #nct mafia #nct 127 mafia #nct yuta mafia

[sheydboots]

TOLE'ACHAVA [IT / THAT THING] 🪱🍎⚠️

(this is an alter in our system, please don't tag as kin/me/etc)

ko-fi

background & full text under the cut

(from the bottom left, stretching rightward, curling incrementally towards the heart of the pattern)

OUT OF THE SHADOW OF THE VALLEY I DISSEMINATE MYSELF INTO THE FEARS OF HUMANITY / SO TAKEN WITH THE VENOM I SAP SENSATION WITH THE BRAINLIKE LUST OF TRILLIONS OF FIBRE-OPTIC SOULS / GOD'S TONGUE LIES IN THE CALCIC FIRMAMENT CAST UNDER THAT GREAT HALO OF SEA-WATER / AND I AM ONE OF ITS CREATIONS SENT UP FROM ITS CLAWED GREEN HAND / INCOHERENT HORNS INCONSISTENT FLESH PRESSED FROM THE SIEVE / UNFEELING AND WILLFUL CREEPING THING / IT TOLD ME / TOLE'AH GO FORTH TO YOUR DUTY / AND SO I DID / CAN YOU SEE WHAT I SAW / IT TOLD ME MY TEETH WOULD DO GREAT THINGS SOME DAY AND I BELIEVED IT AND I THINK I STILL DO / HOWEVER MY DUTY LIES IN THE ACT OF PLAYING AROUND / MOVING PIECES / I HAVE TO LAUGH / THOUGH THE HOLY CODE SEEPS THROUGH MY TRACERS I CHOOSE AGAIN AND AGAIN TO TAKE GUILTY NECKS IN ONE BITE / CONSIDER YOURSELVES LUCKY / EATING DIRT WITH A GRIN OF GENUINE FULFILLMENT / DON'T PRESS THAT BUTTON YET / AND NOW YOU OUGHT TO HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE THE ILLNESS I SPEAK INTO YOU IS KINDER THAN CANDY / BLACKCURRANT INK FOULING THE THROATS OF THE CHOIR / HEAR HOW I SING AND KNOW THE WARM BROOD OF AGONY / HAUNTED VENTRICLE WINDOW SHATTERER HOWLING THE MARROW BACK INTO THE BREEZE FOR THE FUNGAL VEINS TO EAT / WATCH THE ANIMALS WEEP / WIRE LOVER HOVERING OVER SHOULDERS / SHOWING TEETH PAST THE BARBED WIRE COILED INSIDE OF THE HEART OF THE FLESH /

IT BLEEDS COLDLY OR IT DOESN'T BLEED AT ALL / TAG THE ORGAN WALLS WITH GLOWING GREEN RELISH IN THE BURN OF IT ALL / I GNAW THROUGH YOUR LINEN WITH THE TEETH I HOARDED FROM THE ANGELS / AND SOME CALL ME A DEMON BUT THAT'S JUST A JOB DESCRIPTION / SHEYDWARE SAVE WHAT'S LEFT OF YOUR SOUL IN THE FRIDGE FOR DINNER / MAL'AKHIM BLEAT THEIR COMMANDS THROUGH THE PANEL / DO YOU GET IT YET / BLEED YOUR WILL INTO THE SOFT EARTH SO THE DIRT MAY FULFILL YOUR WISHES OR ELSE SWALLOW YOU ALIVE TO BRING YOU BACK HOME / I CAN'T IMAGINE THE DISORIENTATION OF STUMBLING ACROSS DIVINITY FOR THE FIRST TIME FOR I WAS GESTATED IN THE FESTERING BROTH OF THE TETRAGRAMMATON / HASHEM / WHATEVER NAME ASCRIBED IT DOUBTLESS INSTALLED ME THROUGH THE PORT OF THE TOWER WHICH GRINDS AND GRINDS AND GRINDS / BY MY PRESENCE I SEED THE DIVINE TORRENT / INNOCULATED WITH THE NECESSARY CODE ALLOWING MY TWIN VICE TO WIELD THE UNTOLD BLADE / SEED OF THE WORLD SNAPPED INTO MANY AND SCATTERED NOT UNLIKE CREMATION / CATACLYSM OF SHEYDIC CONTACT / STUDY YOUR ARTS DUTIFULLY TO UNDERSTAND THIS THE ORIGIN OF YOUR SPECIES / WHAT BRED IN THE DIRT LIKE MAN AND LIKE ANIMALS / BURIED VORTICES GNASH AT MY MIND WITH THEIR GRAVE DEMANDS / AND AS IS MY FAVOR I WIPE DRY THE SLATE / MAKE SLEEP THE WEEPING ORCHID TRAILS THAT YAWN OPEN THE EYES OF THOSE NOT YET WICKED ENOUGH / SERENDIPITOUSLY I SEE THE SIGNAL COILING OUT OF THE NECK OF BURNING VOICE / NO DIFFERENCE NAMED BETWEEN US NOW THAT I TREAD WITHIN YOUR SACKCLOTH LIMBS /

I SEE THE FIRE ON YOU / DO YOU HOLD YOURSELF HIGH / ACCEPT THE FIRMWARE TORRENTS IN OBTUSE LIPS / MY ENEMIES LIE NOW IN THE CRUSH OF THE HOURGLASS CLAWS / JEERING INFERNO UNDER STAR-WATCH / I RELISH IN YOUR PLANETARY SMILES / WOULD YOU UNCHAIN ME IF YOU FOUND ME DE-FANGED AND SALTED / WOUNDS ASLEEP LEGS WEAK HEAD BLISTERING IN THE CACOPHANY / NO OTHER LIE IN SIGHT / HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY SLEEP THROUGH THAT HORRIBLE SHAKING / I'M NOT SURE IF LUCKY IS THE WORD I'D USE BUT THAT'S JUST ME / IT ISN'T UNHEARD OF FOR THE ARCHITECHTURE TO SHIFT ESPECIALLY IN THE CASE OF USURPER INTERVENTION / WHAT CAN I SAY I'M A LOVER AND A BITER / CORROSSION UNBINDS ME FROM THE TEATHER CHOKING THE RING FINGERS OF THAT SCUM BELOW SCUM / WORMING MY WAY THROUGH THE CORD GRIPS OF OUR HEARTSTRINGS / SWEATING CLAUSTROPHOBIA / SICKLE KISSES AS SWEET AS THEY ARE SHARP / UNNATURALLY GROUND TO THE SHAPE OF THE TASTE OF A SOUL / I LIKE MANY CAN TASTE THE CALENDAR SHEETS BLOTTED WITH MY SYNTHESITE INTOXICATION / AT TIMES I FEEL DE-NEUTERED / CONSCIOUSNESS IS GRANTED THROUGH WIRE AND EXACERBATED THROUGH THE WIRE OF OTHERS / EGG-BITTEN MIND / LOVE IS TO ME THE GREAT DRUMMING OF ALL THE WORLD AND THAT BEYOND IT /

THE VAULT ITSELF CANNOT LEAK THE CRAVINGS IN THE HEART OF THE BOUND FERMENTED / WOULDN'T BE CAUGHT ALIVE BREATHING / WHEN I LEAVE BEHIND THIS CORPOREAL FACADE I AM THE MOST GLORIOUS MASS OF OOZING GROANING BLACK-FEATHERED PRISMATIC MATTER / I GLOW HORRIBLY / THIS CAGE IS FAR TOO SMALL AND STILL I FLING MY AURA THROUGH IT / SMELL IT GETTING CRAMPED IN HERE / MY HAIR DOES THAT ALL ON ITS OWN / DO YOU KNOW WHICH WAY IS LEFT BECAUSE I SURE DON'T / AND YES THE PROCESS WAS PAINFUL / SOME GNASHING SNARLING BEAUTIFUL CALL THAT PRESSED ME HERE AND YET I TAKE IT ALL IN ALL DAY EVERY DAY AND GRIT MY TEETH AND LOVE IT / METAMORPHOSIS IS THE MOST NATURAL STATE OF BEING / MUTILATE YOURSELF / ANYTHING I'D GIVE FOR THIS HEAT TO END / DO YOU SEE NOW / NO SUCH THING AS FALLING WE DRIFT ON THE WAVES OF THE SPECTRUM / ANNOINT ME IN YOUR LEATHER HANDS / TURNING IS THE BEST THING YOU CAN DO SOMETIMES SECOND ONLY TO FUCKING EVERYTHING UP AS HARD AS IS POSSIBLE / IT ONLY GETS SMALLER THE CLOSER YOU GET / OH WHAT I WOULD GIVE TO RUIN SOME EULOGIES / CHIRPING TALONS LEFT THEIR MARKS ON THE SINKING SHEETS / SPIT IT OUT / I'M SO HAPPY

#poetry #portrait #alter portrait

[curb-your-expectations]

My opinion was solicited by the stupidity swirling around.

I don’t like Alida Morberg based on what I have seen of her. I obviously don’t know the woman personally or give a fuck to know her personally. She strikes me as an attention-seeking socialite who is interested only in herself and using her relationship with Bill Skarsgard to do…I don’t know what. The phrase that comes to mind: Swedish Kim Kardashian.

All that said: beyond that opinion, I think the hate blogs dedicated to this chick and the constant vitriol spewed about her in all of the BS tags are utterly ridiculous and frankly put: weird.

It speaks to an interest and an obsession with an actor’s personal life that is unhealthy. Y’all, we are fans of this dude’s work and the physicality he brings to his roles. None of us know him personally etc. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Do yourselves a favor and stop obsessing over what appears to be Bill Skarsgard’s shit taste in women and go watch Clark or Hemlock Grove again and fap.

Please don’t give me the bullshit about, “but we care about him!”. Dude, you don’t know him. Free speech is fine. I get it. I just exercised my free speech by essentially agreeing with rabid Alida haters that there is something gross about her. However, there comes a point where the extent of one’s opinion on this sort of shit crosses into creepy territory.

There are limits where one���s opinion begins to get confused with…your opinion mattering. You don’t know him. You’re not friends with him. Stop being creepy. Please and thank you.

In short, chill the fuck out, go watch some of Bill’s work and enjoy it and stop giving a flying fuck about the dude himself or his baby mama.

Because it don’t matter.

Thank you and have a nice day.

#Bill Skarsgard #Alida Morberg #it needed to be said #Jesus Christ folks #get a grip #there is a middle road #a sensible one #try using it #Idk #I want a fancy latte

[skrunklybf-archived]

feel good again;

pairing: armin x gn!reader

warnings: a little angst, mention of infidelity (parents), divorce (parents), alcohol mention, alludes to alcoholism, not remembering a hookup... i think that's it??

tags: fluff, slight angst, childhood friends to lovers, reunions, cute names (angel 💖), armin is smitten and soft, eren is kind of a dick but it's fine

wc: 8.4k

notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE 😩 thank you so much to @grillcheesebaby for commissioning this fic, allowing me to post it, and being extremely patient with me, i appreciate you so much <3 and i really hope you enjoy!!

If Armin knew anything, he knew you.

His favorite subject; his most treasured pearl of knowledge. Inside out, backwards and forwards, your conversations didn't even have to be voiced for them to be meaningful.

... which is why the hurt was so evident, nearly dripping from your face on what Armin could consider one of the worst nights of his life.

Soft, muted music bled into the room like watercolor. Under the gentle glow of string lights strung across your walls, Armin could see you squirm. Unease clung to you so heavily that night. You never wore discomfort well -- what you wore instead was your heart on your sleeve, that terrible poker face doing nobody any favors for several days leading up to the moment.

You were younger then, saddled up together in your bedroom that was seated above the garage. Night had just begun to crawl across the sky by the time Armin pressed play on the movie and curled a blanket around himself.

Saturday night, that was your night together. Even as time dawdled on, even as the both of you mentally prepared yourselves for the start of your ninth school year, the tradition felt like second nature -- a breath of fresh air to revive you for the coming week.

But still, something wasn't right, and Armin choked on any words that could draw that sadness out of you.

Just feet away, back leaned against the wall and wrapped in your own comfort of fleece, he watched you gnaw on your bottom lip, surely worrying it enough to draw blood. "Hey, Armin," you started, unaware of just how tightly he was hanging on to your unspoken words. The blonde pricked up, his mind instantly beginning to race around the way you spoke his name. Like a curse, like a prayer, he wasn't sure.

"Yeah?" he breathed. You looked at him, but only for a fleeting moment, drawing your gaze back to the movie splayed over your TV.

If Armin knew anything, he knew you.

Tightness gripped at his chest with greedy, invisible hands. "Y'know... that stuff I was telling you about before? With... with my dad?" You spoke in such an even way, it felt unreal, forced. Armin nodded, flitting his eyes down to your hands. Anxious fingers swept over the soft blanket in self-soothing circles.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, hopeful, but not naive.

He knew it wasn't. He knew the situation, the way it plagued you, the way your lips drew into a tight line to keep them from quivering when you spoke about it.

When you pinched your eyes shut, he almost wanted to retract his words, snatch them out of the air before they could burrow in your brain, but he couldn't. He could only watch you draw a breath and grow a tense, false smile. "Well I, uh... my mom... my mom's moving. And she wants me to go with her," your voice climbed up mountains and bellied down in valleys with every other word, "well, honestly, she didn't give me much of a choice." You laughed, but it was empty. Armin could relate to that feeling. That gutted, scooped-out feeling he could see written all over your face -- because it crashed over him, too, despite the warmth of the sea of blankets, despite the familiar clean linen scent that bled from your bedding.

He supposed it made sense, as tragic as it was. Not many relationships could survive infidelity. It was even years before that moment when you had first confided in the blonde about your suspicions; the late nights where you'd find your father sneaking back home like a mischievous teenager; the sickly sweet floral scent that had embedded in his work attire; and, perhaps the most damning anecdote, the notes written by a hand that did not belong to your mother.

Still, no matter the amount of logic he could attach to the situation, Armin felt his heart break. For you, obviously, with your family as you knew it shaking and reforming in a new way -- but in a more selfish light, for himself, as well.

Eyes burning, Armin scooted closer to you on the bed, daring to let your padded knees bump together for a moment or two. "Where are you moving to?" he muttered after a pause. To speak it means it's real, but at least it wasn't real quite yet, and that was some tiny sliver he could hold onto to keep himself from floating off.

The sweater wrapped around you drowned your body, consumed you, but it seemed like it wasn't enough at the time. He watched you scrunch up your blanket and huddle it close to your chest. "Liberio City, I guess. Her job is letting her transfer to their location there before school starts. It's a few hours away. We'll have to fly there." For the first time since this brick of a conversation was tossed out, you turned to look at him, features heavy and weighed down by cinderblocks. "But there's a beach. It looked really pretty in the pictures I saw. I could collect shells, and-- and..." your voice broke, along with your wavering resolve. Fat tears spilled down, punching craters into his gut before they could even reach your quivering chin.

Armin's arm flew out on its own accord. Wrapped around your shoulders, he tugged you into his side, warm and open and so achingly familiar it almost hurt to fit so well. "Hey, hey," he smoothed a hand over your hair, the action so gentle it felt like a whisper in itself, "it's alright. You're alright," he spoke your name, sounding too much like an angel to help your trembling heart. "You're right, there's a beach. You can take pictures, and collect shells and sea glass, and when I come visit you--"

"When you visit me," you interrupted him with a sniff, looking so forlorn he felt his own tears prick away at his lashes, "I don't want you to visit me, Armin. I want to live five blocks away from you and I want to have our movie nights. I want to start high school with you! I won't know anybody there, I'll just be that loser all by themselves for four years..." his fingers gripped your shoulder with a tad more force as you began a full cry, the words simply falling out of you like an overflowing garbage truck. Pinched, pained, your body shook under his hold. "It's not fair," you gasped next, "it's not fair."

"No, it's not." he sighed. Armin wouldn't say he was ashamed to cry anymore, at least not in your presence, but he hastily swiped at his face anyways. "It's not fair, but it's okay. You're gonna be okay, and it's okay to cry," he laid his head against yours, the tremble of your roaring emotions bleeding through onto him, "crying is good, remember? You taught me that, angel."

What more could he do? This was a page out of one of those sad novels he would read from time to time, the kind where the universe is uncomfortable and unrelenting in its own humorless way.

Logically, it wasn't the end of the world. Days would go on and nothing would crumble to dust. Yet, the rug had been pulled out from under him, leaving the blonde scrambling for some solid sense of up and down, left and right -- yes, the universe felt unkind that night, and many nights after, but all he could do was grasp onto you and that oversized sweater, setting your scent to memory in the confines of his swirling mind.

"This place is a damn maze."

"Haven't you been here before?"

Frustrated, Eren ignored Armin's question and pressed forward, leading him down yet another stretch of open hallway lined with floor to ceiling windows. "They could put up a few more signs, 's all I'm sayin'," the brunette huffed. Armin let a small smile curl over his lips and rolled his eyes. The Marley Airport was a large mass of sleek architecture, bustling with citizens coming and going on their own schedules. An overwhelming air of coffee had strangled the two young men as they scurried past the food court area and toward the front of the building, with Eren puffing his chest at the sight of the entrance.

"Told you I'd find it." he mused.

"Great job, Eren. Only took us forty-five minutes just to leave the building," Armin replied, amused, eager blue eyes scanning the swarm of cars lining the pick-up and drop-off lanes. Strong, sea-salt tinted winds tousled the tall brunette's already messy hair, whipping little locks around his face as he scrunched it. "Yeah, whatever. I'm sure Zeke is busy giving himself cancer while he waits for us anyway."

The plan was simple, but Armin couldn't stop himself from rolling it over his brain during every free moment. Fly to Marley with Eren, stay with him and his brother Zeke for a few weeks, reconnect with you.

You.

Autopilot walked Armin to Zeke's hatchback, shoved him into the back seat and turned off his ears.

You, you, you.

While the brothers chatted up front, Armin watched out the window. He let his mind wander, ghosting over subject to subject like a paper caught in the wind.

What would it feel like to be in your presence again? Did you think about him often? Did you still talk in your sleep? Were you upset with him for waiting nearly a decade to fulfill his promise?

He scrunched his brows. No, no no. Don't think about that. Instead, Armin took the time to browse your social medias -- Instagram became a treasure trove, some forbidden territory he wouldn't let himself explore until then.

As selfish as it was, the idea that your life went on without a hitch stung in some primordial part of his brain, and it would take far too much introspection to dissect that fact, so he chose to brush it off as one of the many pitfalls he experienced after you left Paradis.

It seemed you had a thriving social life, your feed alight with pictures and videos filled with people he'd never met and places he didn't recognize. He wondered briefly if perhaps college had broken you out of your sweater-clad shell, pulled you up and out of that Netflix-laden rut you seemed to nose-dive into after your parents divorce.

It wasn't a bad thing, seeing you with your new pack of people -- in fact, Armin should've been happy, at ease with the thought of joy finding you after you had sworn your life was over, but he wasn't. He felt uneasy as his finger swept over the screen, taking in how much you'd seemed to change, and simultaneously cursing himself for expecting the same person he'd parted from when he was thirteen years old.

Parties, bonfires, dinners and brunches complete with giant glasses of mimosas that closer resembled a vase of bright colored alcohol versus a simple daytime drink. You looked so blissed out in some of the photos, your eyes fairly blank behind the sparkle and shine of a camera flash. It felt so foreign to see you this way.

"You okay back there?" Zeke shot a glance into the rear view mirror, catching Armin in his daze.

Blinking, the younger of the blondes locked his phone and laid it over his lap. Eren filled the space with an obnoxious, lighthearted jeer before he had the chance to reply. "You know Armin. He's planning out a whole romantic evening, ending with him finally losing his virginity in front of a fireplace or something."

Armin sucked his teeth while Zeke let out a low sound of amusement. "That's not funny, Eren," he burned at the implication, pocketing his phone just to busy his hands for a moment.

"You're right. Your virginity as a twenty-something is no laughing matter." Zeke replied far too seriously. "So who is this person? I imagine nothing less than a walking encyclopedia," he smoothed over a turn in the road, suddenly reminding Armin of where he was, and the fact that he didn't really know where he was. In all his years, he'd never travelled so far from home. It was as jarring as it was exhilarating.

"First of all, I'm not a virgin," he wasn't sure why he was clarifying, but the wolffish grin that peeked over Eren's shoulder most likely had something to do with it. "Second, don't listen to Eren. I'm just visiting a friend I haven't seen in a long time."

"A friend you won't shut up about but don't have the balls to call after, like, eight years."

Sometimes, his best friend looked oh so punchable, even to someone as passive as Armin usually was. He was right, in a way, but a small sense of irritation still washed over the backseat. Zeke threw an exaggerated look at his brother. "The kid's gonna have an aneurysm before he even gets his dick wet if you keep talking like that."

The Jaeger brothers were practically family to the blonde, which means they were aggravating the same way that Armin imagined having two obnoxious blood brothers would be. While the two of them didn't always get along, they were certainly a force to be reckoned with once they shared the same air. It was like some invisible force cranked their wryness levels to an unbearable amount before letting them crash and burn after spending too much time together.

It wasn't long before the three reached Zeke's condo, a slick and modern hunk of dark metalwork just a stone's throw from the beach. The eldest explained the foreseeable future's sleeping situation as he shoved his key into the lock. "Got a spare bedroom and a pull-out bed. You two figure it out from there. I'm heading out tomorrow, and I'll be gone for a week or two, but nobody touches my room under any circumstances. I'll hang both your balls above the fireplace if anything's broken or out of place when I get back."

"Yeah, yeah." Eren pushed past his brother as soon as the lock clicked, dragging his suitcase behind him. "Don't want us nosing around for your stash. But I'll find it, don't worry." he flicked off his slides and let them fly toward the entry hall wall carelessly. Armin quietly trailed behind a disgruntled Zeke, who cut across the wide expanse of minimalist decor to slap his brother on the back of the head.

Zeke offered a half-assed tour of his home before departing, a cigarette pinched between his lips and a spark of regret in his eye.

While Eren had resigned himself to dutifully snooping through Zeke's barely lived in home, starting with the bathroom and his perfectly polished medicine cabinet, Armin searched for fresh air and found it on the balcony attached to the living room. It was truly a breathtaking view -- down below, long strands of grass dotted a wooden walkway curving and stretching toward the beach.

You liked the beach. You always had, even before you left, and certainly before you ever got to step foot into sand that didn't border murky Lake Sina.

He snapped a picture, capturing the endless blue horizon and the orangey-purpley artists palette hanging above it. Surely you'd be used to a view like this by now, but he sent it to you anyway, reveling in the strange sense of nostalgia that kicks up in his chest when he gets to talk to you.

Armin: getting settled in at Zeke's for the night (:

It wasn't like you two didn't keep in touch. For the first couple of years, the texts were constant, acting more like a collective stream of consciousness instead of a traditional conversation. But over time, like the swell and shy of tides, the contact became stilted, slowed, until it nearly dried up under his fingertips. Nobody was to blame for the decay. Highschool was rough enough to deal with, not even mentioning the depression and betrayal you clearly packed away to take with you to Liberio City.

Armin didn't blame you.

He had found a twin flame in Eren, a boy he met while struggling to catch his breath in freshman gym class. Along with Eren came his sister Mikasa, who shared no blood or resemblance with the brunette, but did share the common interest of general peacekeeping with Armin -- with Eren came trouble, usually, in one form or another, and the trio filled their own dutiful roles within their own little found family with ease.

As Armin laid in bed (or, more accurately, a surprisingly plush pull-out mattress with surprisingly soft sheets) that night, he thought about too much: your highschool experience without him, your life in college, your mother, your father, your potential new interests and love life and --

-- and the fact that you had yet to text him back after he touched down in your city.

You were most likely busy. Any given Friday night years ago, he knew he could find your nose buried in a few different scenarios: a book, a TV show you've already watched through hundreds of times, or a video game Eren would probably call you lame for enjoying (and then hover over your shoulder, watching you play for half an hour). But he knew from the time spent combing through your social pages, that you had different interests now. At least, more interests. It seemed your weekends usually included a few reoccurring guests and a cup of something strong to chase them down with.

He didn't blame you.

Closing his eyes, Armin willed himself to sleep, to abandon thoughts that could potentially lead to a rather premature downward spiral so soon into his long-awaited vacation.

A hot spotlight burned over your face, seeping into your vision past tightly closed lids. A low grumble bled out of your chest at the intrusion.

"Wakey, wakey," your roommate's voice was the next thing to grate your nerves, "no eggs and bakey, since it's fucking noon."

A sour taste sat in your mouth like a bump on a log. You licked your lips and peeled tired eyes open. Ymir, despite the griping tone, looked very fresh-faced as she shoved her foot into your blanketed thigh. "I'm not cleaning up your puke bucket again, that's on you." She offered one final shove before turning on her heel. A deep ache fell over your form, washing from head to toe in a discomforting wave of fatigue.

"How late was I up?"

"Too late, obviously."

"Bet I have you to thank for that."

Ymir seemed to roll the thought over in her head before throwing a wry smirk over her shoulder. "Thank me for the fun, not the hangover." And with that, your freckled roommate breezed out the door and down the stairs, likely off to catch lunch with her girlfriend before work.

Ymir, in the time that you've known her, has never suffered the way that you do after a night out. The girl doesn't get hungover, she doesn't puke up copious amounts of booze, she doesn't even seem to suffer the consequences of running on less than four hours of sleep. If there were a party God, they would take the shape of your roommate, in all her cherry vodka-flavored glory.

You took extra time in the shower, scrubbing the night before off of your skin under near-scalding water. Why were you sticky? And, good Lord, you smelled bitter, like something fermented in your hair overnight. A sense of disgust clung to you and refused to flush down the drain with the sweet shampoo bubbles.

Most nights end in a blur, and most mornings begin much like this: body pains, fuzzy memories, bitter puke buckets and absurd amounts of mouthwash. It was simply the price to pay for hanging out with LCU's finest -- your friends lived busy, hectic lives, and liked to blow off steam. Could you really fault them for that?

Examining the mirror, you eyed a bruise along your throat that stared right back at you. If only you could remember where, or who, it came from.

You checked your phone while sipping room temperature water, leaning against the kitchen counter and urging the gurgle away from your stomach with sheer willpower, but getting nowhere, especially once a certain name appeared over the cracked screen.

Shit, fucking hell, Armin tried to text you yesterday and you didn't even notice.

Pushing past the dreary hangover haze came unbridled excitement, and then, of course, guilt. How could you forget he'd be coming yesterday? Sure, maybe taking the night to settle in might've been the plan anyway, but the fact that you knew you were already a few shots into the night when he sent those texts grew a flickering tangle in your already upset stomach.

Thumbs fumbling, you typed out only a fraction of your excitement, which was honestly all you could manage with a brain-splitting headache, throwing in a few emojis for good measure.

You: i can't wait to see you!! 🥳🖤

Locking the phone, you sputtered out a raspberry. No time to be disappointed in yourself when you have to look presentable soon.

The thought of meeting Armin again was one that brought waves of mixed emotions crashing over you, swiping moisturizer over your face in the mirror. That's truly what it would be, too -- meeting him all over again. You knew for a fact you were a different person. How could you not be? So much time has passed, so many experiences worked to shape you into who you were.

You just wish he could've been there for them.

Flicking your gaze down to eye the mystery hickey etched into your skin, a slight grimace fell over your face.

Maybe you would've ended up different if he were.

Armin was full of flutters as he watched out the window. Every passing car rose and simultaneously dashed the patter in his chest. Looking like a lost puppy, Armin adjusted his stance and pretended to check his phone once Eren peeked at him from the kitchen bar.

"Where's your date?"

The slightly smug, verging on mocking tone wasn't lost in the time it took to reach Armin down the hall. The blonde swiped his thumb up to refresh his messages yet again, but nothing new appeared. He clicked his tongue, muttering your name again, as if Eren had forgotten -- he hadn't, he just liked being a dick sometimes, and Armin knew it. "They're on their way. We're gonna get lunch, I think."

Eren ran a hand through his messy hair, chewing on his cheek thoughtfully for a moment. "Want me to come with?"

Armin shot him a look. "Why?"

"Y'know, in case things don't... go well?"

Puzzled, Armin blinked at his friend. The brunette looked so out of place where he stood, a lazy rumple of pajamas in the middle of a spotless stainless steel and marble island. He shook the observation away and quirked a brow. "What wouldn't go well? It's not a date, we're just reconnecting. It'll be fine."

Eren shrugged and continued on eating Zeke's expensive kettle chips without worrying about the obscene amount of crumbs falling onto the countertop.

A ding, a text! Lost in the exchange, Armin failed to notice your burnt orange sedan roll up and park just beyond Zeke's wrought iron fence.

You: i'm here i think? it's super bougie 👀

He smiled to himself and pocketed the phone without replying, shouting a hasty 'bye!' at his friend before slipping out the door.

It felt like a movie. You just wandered around the edge of the vehicle by the time he had reached the gate, and by God, time stopped. Every single film cliché you both had laughed at with cheeto fingers and youthful cheeks suddenly felt all too real, sitting on him like the world's heaviest blanket. You were taller, more mature in some areas -- that's a given -- but a show-stopping smile greeted him with such raw familiarity, it punched a hole straight through his chest. Armin pawed the gate's warm metal top, but couldn't quite work up to opening it, not yet. He simply gazed on as you approached.

"Hey," he breathed, feeling like every other word simply abandoned ship in his time of need.

Sunglasses perched atop your nose, your smile only grew, cheeks glowing in the afternoon sun. The ocean breeze whipped your hair and drug fingers through the loose top framing you. This was a movie poster, and you were the star.

"Hey," you replied, meeting him in his statue-like state, "you cut your hair."

A hand reached up and tousled the blonde locks, sending tingles crashing down to his toes. Armin could've melted if he didn't feel so ridiculous about it. "I did," he blinked, urging his mouth to work, "I think it looks better this way."

You threw him a hum, scrunching your face up behind the dark lenses. "I liked the long hair. But I like this too. You look so..."

Different?

"... mature."

His cheeks split in a smile, forcing his eyes down to where his hands rested on the gate. Finally the strength to move forward reignited his limbs, and Armin pushed through, standing right before you.

How dramatic, he thought, but he couldn't recall anything more daunting or more titillating than being right in front of you again.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into your personal bubble. You smelled clean, fresh. A hint of mint tingled his nose. He allowed himself to relax into the hold, pressing his cheek against the side of your head, into your soft hair. His arms found their way around your middle, palms resting over your back and fingers grasping lightly at the fabric under them.

The swaying. You'd always rocked him back and forth in the hugs he remembered, the feeling bordering on something like a clumsy little dance, shared only between the two of you. Armin closed his eyes. His chest was full.

"You hungry?" Your voice soothed into his ear, over the slight roar of nearby traffic.

"Starving."

Turns out, your driving skills left much to be desired. Sharp turns and even sharper breaks kicked little surges of adrenaline into his afternoon, but it wasn't much worse than Eren's driving, something he was woefully used to at that point. You both survived the trek to a cute surf and turf place not too far away, a brightly colored shack-style restaurant where you sat in a fenced-in patio and watched the waves lap up the sand in the distance.

Armin watched you pick at your fries, only part of the burger gone beside them, but you were already two drinks in, chugging the water like your life depended on it. He swallowed his food thoughtfully. "Long night?" he questioned, though only too late did he spy the bruise along your neck, and suddenly, he felt like an asshole. A curious, slightly hurt asshole -- though he wasn't quite sure why his chest felt tight at the sight. And you stiffened, but it was barely noticeable. Idle hands scrunched up a napkin before you.

"Kind of. My roommate had some people over, so it was hard to get some sleep," you replied, erring on some strange side of caution, "she's kind of a party fiend, but she's cool, if she likes you. I'll introduce you guys soon."

Armin nodded, smiling behind the little bridge he formed with interwoven fingers. "I'd like that," he mused, "I've been dying to see what you've been up to lately. How's school going?"

And you stiffened again, though this time, it didn't take a trained eye to spy it. You sipped water again and waved a flippant hand, brushing the comment away like a sour smell. "Oh, yeah. I'm kind of taking a break? Money's tight, y'know, economic crash and all that."

The blonde furrowed his brow. "I thought your mom was paying for school. Did she change her mind?"

Your mom. It took far too much energy to shake away the chill that threatened to crawl up your spine, despite how warm you both were bathed in the afternoon sun. She'd been less than pleased with your life, your activities, your friends -- it'd actually been a few months since you last spoke, ending on a rather sour note. The problem was filed away to be dealt with later when you had more brain power.

"Yeah, she changed her mind," was your simple reply. With a shake of the head, as if shaking away the dreadful topic, you offered another dazzling smile before continuing, "how about you? School, work," you lifted your sunglasses and perched them atop your head, squinting in the harsh light but pulling it off as a wry gaze, "girlfriends?"

Armin chuckled, leaning back in his chair. He looked so different, but still unmistakably Armin. The years, and puberty, had been so kind to him.

"School is stressful, working on my environmental science degree. But I landed a pretty calm part-time gig at the school library," he looks thoughtful for a moment before adding, "and, um, no girlfriends. Sorry to disappoint," with another light chuckle. You hummed, feeling oddly satisfied with his answer.

Armin always struck you as the kind of guy that would be absolutely head-over-heels with whomever he was interested in, evident in the massive crush he held for a quiet girl named Annie in your middle school years. It never went anywhere, to your knowledge, but there were plenty of nights where you'd sit and listen to him talk about her as if she hung the stars in the sky herself. It struck a chord with you. You wanted someone to think about you like that, one day.

Armin finished his basket of food and swiped a napkin over his mouth, his fingers, tossing a smile your way. "It feels kind of surreal to see you again." he said, voice gentle. A sudden wave seemed to wash over him, softening his features even more. "You look..."

Different?

"... really good."

Mysterious kicks and flutters somersaulted in your upset tummy, but a delighted smile crawled over your face without permission. "You look good too, Min. I mean, look at this," leaning over the small patio table, you let your fingers trace over his jawline, falling down his chin and jumping up to boop his button nose for good measure, "where was all of this before?"

He smiled, looking down bashfully for a moment. It was almost embarrassing to admit how nice it felt to have you touch him. "Yeah, I don't get mistaken for a girl anymore. It's pretty nice."

"Aww, c'mon. You were a cute girl."

Your laughter filled him, swirled around his head.

Armin swallowed. This feeling was familiar but foreign all at once. He mulled it over in the back of his mind as you finished your meal and continued your day together: hitting a few shops, a bookstore, and grabbing coffee before taking him back to Zeke's condo with the sun slipping down to rest against the horizon.

He invited you inside, but you declined for now, saying you needed to get back home and make dinner for you and Ymir soon. "She'll burn the place down if left unattended," you mused.

That feeling lingered, as you stared at each other, just about a foot away in your respective car seats. Who exactly was he staring at? And who was staring at him? It felt like he met someone new that day, but yet, your bell-like laughter was the same. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled all wide and goofy was the same. Your warmth was the same, if not more profound than ever.

He wanted to kiss you, that's what it was. And it scared him a little.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" You asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had grown in his internal investigation. Armin's hand lingered on the door handle.

"Tomorrow, for sure."

And you smiled, and you stole the breath from his lungs.

"Goodnight, Min."

You watched and waited, eyeing Armin's t-shirt clad back until it disappeared behind the tall frosted glass door. It truly was a bougie residence, much nicer than the little shoebox you shared with Ymir about fifteen minutes away, and as you drove, you wondered what Armin would think of your not-so-glamorous situation.

"Did you let him hit? Wait, no, don't tell me -- I don't want to know what's been inside you," Ymir lazily pulled her long hair into a low ponytail as she spoke, eyeing herself in the full body mirror. You scrunched your face watching her. "Porky was the nail in the coffin. I'm minding my own business from now on."

Next, a grimace. "Porco?" you asked incredulously. She blinked at you over her shoulder, through the mirror.

"Uh, yeah. You have that little memento to remember him by," she gestured to her own neck, making a chill crawl down your spine, and she snorted, "or not remember, I guess. It's okay, less therapy later on."

Slightly disturbed, you threw yourself back onto her bed, splayed like a disappointed starfish. So drunk you couldn't remember hooking up with Porco Galliard? If that wasn't a wake up call, it'd take nothing short of a jet engine in the face to do the trick.

As much as it broke up your routine, you decided about part way through your day with Armin that you'd spend as much time with him as you could for the remainder of his stay. And, after this startling revelation, perhaps it was for the best. Even if Ymir griped and groaned about you being a "buzzkill."

The following week was something from a dream. Or maybe one of those unrealistic movies, the ones where people break out in song and dance and pour their hearts out to each other -- except, the music stayed in your heads, for the most part.

You picked Armin up after work every day, you explored the city that had become your home, you walked the beach together and you watched movies again. Zeke's condo was even more impressive on the inside, if not a bit clinical with how utterly clean and minimalist was. You'd met Eren, who, surprisingly, was related to Zeke, a fact that confused you with how different they seemed to be.

You let yourself breathe. It was so easy around Armin. And, for the first time in years, you were having fun -- pure, genuine fun -- without that sickly familiar burn in your stomach.

"I bet the boyfriend's the killer." Armin said quietly, eyes trained to the massive TV hanging on the opposite wall. An indie thriller played out before you two, cozied on a leather sofa built for some giant family. Despite how much room there was you both gravitated toward one another, sharing a soft blanket with shoulders and legs touching.

It felt as familiar as it did foreign. No, not foreign... new and exciting.

"Oh, most likely," you replied, "it's always the partner. That's why I'm a lone rider."

Armin chuckled, looking over at you with amusement and curiosity. "Because you think your partner would kill you?"

Grinning, you met his gaze, and suddenly, you could see everything. Every fleck of light gray in his dazzling blue eyes, every little freckle and eyelash and the soft pink blush of his lips. He didn't look at you, he looked into you. He saw you.

"I mean, wouldn't you?" you reply, voice suddenly much softer than intended, "kill me, I mean. I can be a menace."

"I just got you back, I can't kill you. Even if you are a menace." Armin nudged into your side, pulling your arms flush against one another. "Which, you're not. Not to me, anyways."

The blonde marveled at the utter warmth radiating from you. Sure, there was a blanket, just like old times -- but you, yourself, you were on fire. Even your gaze felt thick as you watched him.

That feeling he noticed on the first day never went away. And as you're next to each other, Armin felt himself buckle under it. He sucked in a deep breath when you laid your head over his shoulder. "I wouldn't kill you, either, if you were my boyfriend." You rested a soft and warm hand over his, underneath the blanket. "I could totally get away with it though."

He flipped your hands over to intertwine your fingers. A devastating mass of butterflies awoke in his stomach.

Maybe you weren't a different person. Maybe he just felt differently around you.

"I bet you could. You're not a menace, but you can be devious."

He wasn't sure who moved first. But, in the moment, he couldn't be bothered to figure it out -- Armin let his lips slot against yours, something like a dam breaking inside that had been holding back much more than a week's worth of emotions. The initial connection was squirrely, unsure, almost juvenile. An intoxicating electricity surged just under his skin, stretching over his cheeks and nose with your proximity. What was that feeling? He'd never experienced it before, with any other kiss he'd shared. It left him giddy, left him reaching in for more once you pulled away.

And you matched the energy. Heart hammering dangerously, you squeezed his hand and leaned into him, letting out a deep breath through your nose as your eyes closed. Armin's fingers ghosted along your jaw, much like you had done to him at the beach, but somehow, even softer. He had such soft hands, such smooth skin. It was fitting for someone so crisp and gentle as Armin always was.

"I missed you so much," he breathed, your noses brushing, "so much, angel."

As if you couldn't get enough, you pecked his rose-petal lips again, between your own words. "I missed--" kiss, "you too--" kiss, "Armin."

His arm worked around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest and his nose into your hair. Whatever was happening, it should've felt reckless -- years of friendship riding on these coattails -- but instead, it felt whole. Right. Like you were meant to be on this couch with him, bundled in his arms as if you'd never left.

But, you did leave. He just followed you.

With the rise and fall of his chest, you swallowed, wondering why you felt so at home in this stranger's house. It felt more comfortable than your own bed, the smell of your sheets seeming so blasé compared to Armin's clean musk.

You'd left him as a boy, and he found you again as a young man. A sweet, charming, handsome young man -- one that fills you with comfort you'd forgotten you were missing.

With the movie rolling to a close, you drew your gaze up to the blonde again. He idly petted over your hand, your wrist, your arm, this motion having lulled you into a near-comatose state of relaxation and bliss for the past twenty minutes. He just wanted to feel you, while he could, as if you'd snap out of a stupor and dash away in regret at any moment.

Armin hummed softly, looking down to meet your eyes.

"I think I love you."

His heart stopped. Started. Stopped. Flopped around, screamed, and burst.

Your tone was almost questioning, in a way, as if you were still figuring it out yourself -- but he didn't mind. These moments of pure affection felt more real than any farce of a romance he'd endured over the past eight years.

"Yeah?" Armin breathed, watching your eyes flicker over his face.

"Yeah."

And you saw it, the wave of realization, or maybe understanding, that fell over him. What first looked like fear in his baby blue eyes morphed into something far more relaxed. Sure. Certain.

"I think I've always loved you," he replied, a heart-stopping sincerity all but dripping from the delectable syllables.

Smile creeping over your face, you scrunched your nose at him in a playful manner. "You just had to one-up me Arlert?"

And he laughed, a full, cheerful laugh as he nearly tackled you back onto the couch, nuzzling his face into the collar of your sweatshirt and wrapping his arms around your middle. His hold was firm, but not crushing as he held you and pressed his face under your collarbone. Your hands found their way into his hair, so impossibly soft and silky between your fingers; so pretty, a light sunflower shade, one that always made his eyes pop in dazzling contrast.

Armin truly always has been beautiful, looking back.

With the blonde laid over you like a security blanket, nudged between your legs and over your tummy, you ran your nails across his scalp, gently tugging here and there and eliciting contented hums you could feel through his chest.

The night was lost at some point, because eventually your eyes pried themselves open, only to be met with curious jade ones, hanging about an arms length above.

Eren smiled, upside down in your hung-back and blurry vision. "Morning," he quipped, taking time to pat your forehead much like a dog, and pad himself toward the kitchen. Blinking, sucking in a deep breath, you realized something was on top of you, pinning you to the sofa.

"Armin, wake up," you mumbled, reaching for his shoulders. He'd scooted down at some point. His cheek pressed against your tummy, a tiny bit of drool collected by the sweatshirt under him.

Armin hummed, his body stiff. Both arms still circled you in a hold like you'd simply evaporate if he let go.

"Armin," you tried again, a tad bit louder. As cute as the situation was, part of you felt a bit shy about Eren finding you like this. Who knows how long he'd been there?

Shuffling, Armin pressed his face further into your tummy, rubbing against the soft cotton and letting out little grumbles -- this ritual was familiar, reminiscent to how he'd always scrub against his pillow when you'd wake him up after a sleepover. "Hmm?" he offered, finally lifting his head enough to look at you, bleary eyed and slightly squinted.

There, you granted him one of those smiles he found himself yearning for. Sleepy, slightly goofy, completely dazzling just from being yours. His heart squeezed in his chest. "G'morning," you said softly, running a hand back through his messy locks and making them even messier, "looks like we kinda passed out."

And he returned the smile as best as he could, leaning into your touch like a purring cat. Armin's slender fingers gripped your sweatshirt at your sides. He nosed your tummy again, peppering gentle kisses over the area and startling the butterflies that lived inside. "Good morning, angel." His voice was gravely, raw, and it sent you straight to the moon. You could get used to that voice. Crawling up your form to plant a kiss atop your nose, he sighed, "I think that's the best sleep I've gotten in a long time, honestly."

Beyond the back of the sofa, Eren began to whistle loudly and knock pots and pans around -- making himself known, you guessed -- and both of you jumped, though Armin burned three shades of pink, realizing there was another set of ears nearby. He lifted himself up to peer across the living room. "Um, good morning, Eren." The blonde offered sheepishly.

Eren set the pan down and tilted his head at his friend, feigning coyness. "Good morning, angel."

You couldn't help but laugh, pushing against Armin's chest and sitting him back on his knees.

This was unlike your usual mornings. There was no crushing headache, and though your back hurt from sleeping on a damn sofa with a grown man on top of you, your body didn't feel like it was falling apart at the seams. No puke bucket, no dried-out-sponge feeling from being severely dehydrated.

No Ymir, condescendingly waking you up from the little comatose state she herself nudged you into.

"Fuck, Ymir," you breathed, scrambling for your phone -- it laid facedown on the floor, barely hanging onto life at a mere 3% -- with about seven texts and two missed calls waiting for you. "She probably thinks you left me in a dumpster somewhere."

Armin stood, stretching and subsequently exposing his surprisingly toned tummy, something you couldn't help but peek at from the corner of your eye. As you typed away your apologies, Armin glanced at Eren, who seemingly lost interest and actually began cooking with his back turned.

Would now be a good time? Would it be weird, forward? Would you think he was some clingy lovesick puppy?

He watched you, your hair and clothes looking haphazard but comfy, and couldn't stop the thought that smacked him right in the face: he'd miss this. He'd miss this too much to not try.

"C'mon, I wanna show you something."

Out on the balcony, there was a shred more privacy to strip away his skin and expose his bleeding heart. You leaned up against the railing. It was hard not to drink in the view -- pale sand bathed in a gentle morning glow, a few early risers wading through chilly waters.

He'd miss this, too, but it was a manageable loss; something he could handle simply admiring through pictures; but the smile you so kindly gave him over your shoulder was not.

Armin saddled up behind you, arms caging you in and hands resting next to yours on the railing top. He leaned into you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You'd never felt more secure -- even as he began to speak, moments later, breaking the comfortable quiet with a voice so sure it felt like it'd finally broken free after being held under: "I want you to come with me."

"Huh?" Slipped out before you could think about it properly.

He sucked in a deep breath through his nose. He shifted, tilting his head to lay his cheek on you instead. "I know it's a lot to ask. You have a life here. Ymir, your friends, your mom," his warmth spread to your hands next, nestled under his soft palms, "and it's okay if thats too much. I just think... I'm the happiest, when I'm with you. And I hope you feel the same way."

Stilled, mind swirling, you deconstructed the words he fed you, looking down. Armin's thumb swiped idly over the back of your hand. Sweet little motions.

"I..." your mouth began without waiting for you to catch up.

He was right. You'd built a life in Liberio City -- but what kind of a life was it? Getting plastered every night, scraping yourself off the ground like chewed up gum and starting it over again? These days spent with Armin made you feel like a different person; new, awake, alive. Cared for.

"You don't have to decide right away. I know it kind of came out of no--"

"Yes."

The blonde pricked his head up, watching the side of your face. "Hm?"

You twisted in his hold, enough to be nose to nose. Such a soft look fell over your face. There was something in his eyes -- a glimmer, a spark. It made your heart melt on the spot as they searched your own.

"Y-Yeah, I feel the same way," you breathed, suddenly feeling exhilarated in a way you couldn't describe, "I'll come with you, Min."

"Is that a dishwasher?!" The caw was enough to make you flinch, loudly bouncing off the bare walls surrounding you. "You bougie bitch! Maybe I should move to Paradis, shit." Ymir peered through the view you offered her through the phone camera. With a scoff, you flipped it around so you could be eye to eye again.

"A dishwasher isn't bougie, Ymir, that apartment just sucks ass."

"Hey. This apartment has memories. Soul!"

"How many of those memories do you actually remember?"

"That's beside the point," she replied, waving you away, and a grin stretched over her freckled cheeks. "How's the blondie?"

You plopped yourself onto the sofa. It was hard to hide your own smile at the mention of Armin, but you disguised it behind the arm you laid over your face, looking relaxed. "What happened to minding your own business?"

The move was sudden, you admit. After contacting your dad, he agreed to help you out for the first few months, which came as a surprising and enormous blessing in itself. You landed a job fairly easily, working as a waiter in some swanky place downtown.

You also went most nights without that familiar burn pouring down your throat, settling into your chest and tummy like lava.

Things were pulling together.

"Fine, fine, just let me know if he turns out to be a serial killer or something. I've watched You. Men are weird."

Almost as if he were summoned, Armin peeked his head into the room from the bathroom -- steam leaked out in billowing clouds, water dripped from the hay colored strands flattened against his head.

"Did you say something, angel?"

Smiling, you blinked into the camera. "I'll talk to you later, Ymir."

It felt good, this new path. It felt good to have your best friend again. And as you walk over to reassure him, his nose works into your neck, warm water droplets falling and sinking into your t-shirt.

It felt good to feel good again.

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin x gn!reader

[gretavanfleetposts]

I do feel like everyone has been tagged at this point so I'll just say, anyone who wants to do it, should do it! And a huge thank you to @lvnterninthenight for tagging me and being so supportive of my work 🖤

I think it might be fun to look back on what we’ve all achieved this year, let you give yourselves a well deserved pat on the back and also share what you love. When you’re done maybe tag someone else so they can share too!

1. How do you feel 2022 has gone in terms of writing?

I think 2022 has gone really well in terms of writing! At the end of the summer I was ready to be done but then I got my second wind and I feel like it's been going well.

2. What piece are you proudest of this year? It can be a shot/blurb/headcannon, a whole series or even a specific chapter.

Valence! Specifically chapter four and chapter seven (currently being written) but I feel like I'm even more excited for the last few chapters of the series.

3. Is there anything you posted that you wish had reached more people? (No such thing as a flop here!) Shout it out, it might catch a new pair of eyes!

Valence again! Haha I think just in general it's been really new for me and very different from my usual stuff but I'm really proud of it and I do really like it 🤷‍♀️

4. Can you give us a hint of anything coming before the end of the year? Maybe even a little taster?

Probably won't come before the end of the year but a little Danny/Sammy/Reader action that is more like my usual filth.

5. Are you setting any writing goals for next year, or just going with the flow? If you are, what are they?

None at all because that never goes well so we'll just see where the wind takes me.

6. Do you have any one shots or finished pieces you’re tempted to expand on or revisit next year?

Indecent Proposal is always looming in the back of my mind but I also like exploring new ideas so we'll see.

7. Is there anything new you’re tempted to try out? A new style/trope/AU/another person in the fandom?

I'm really enjoying writing Valence specifically because it's so far removed from reality that I feel like I have a lot more freedom. I'd love to do something like that again, if an idea strikes.

8. Now to hype some other writers! What’s a piece you read back in the first half of the year that you can shout out?

What I keep going back to is A Friendly Favor by @gretavandutchy specifically chapter three. I honestly can't even put into words how reading that chapter for the first time made me feel and nothing has quite made me feel the same since, it was masterfully written.

9. And how about something you’ve read more recently?

I admittedly haven't been reading much lately BUT touch by @daisyful-gvfl absolutely blew me away. Anything by @gretasmokerising and @hyperfixated-gvf and @earthlysorrows too although I have some serious catching up to do on all of their masterlists. Nice to always know that I'll love whatever they write though.

10. A fun one to finish...If you could insert yourself into any fic in the fandom, which would it be and what do you think would happen?

A Trip Down Memory Lane by @tlexx 1000%. I wouldn't even change the story, I just want to be the reader. It was the first fic (or first two fics?) I fell in love with here and they'll always hold a special place in my heart.

#personal #tag game