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lovelythief · 2 years

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𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝚜𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚝𝚊 𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚔𝚒 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚠; 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟷,𝟹𝟶𝟾

Gintoki’s unmoving cock sits hot and heavy inside your cunt as you straddle him on his office chair. You rest your forehead on his shoulder and take shallow breaths as sweat marks a slow trail down the back of your neck, into your stuffy kimono.

The seconds feel like hours in this stasis. You swallow and clutch the fabric of his black shirt between your fingers. “H-How much longer?” you carefully ask.

He knocks the lollipop in his mouth to his cheek and speaks with a dead tone, as if he wasn’t currently spearing your pussy in his living room-slash-office, where people could—and have—freely walk in. “Why’d you wanna know?” he retorts, “You’re not giving up already, are you?”

Ugh. This was a bad idea. A terrible, horrible, awful idea to challenge Gintoki in something sexual. Especially when it puts a sadist in a position of control. Especially when you’re something of a masochist.

Your shoulders tense as you hear the slow turning of another page. The immense pressure laying against your walls makes it weakly clamp down. Your thighs are starting to cramp. How much longer?

Gintoki isn’t especially known for his self-control, so why does it feel like you’ll be the first to break?

Your breathing stops altogether as Gintoki adjusts his position on the seat, securing his arm tightly around your waist and unfairly preventing you from wiggling your hips as he shifts. Giving you only the slightest brush of your clit against his pants and the smallest rock of his hips, he stalls.

Still edging you on the cusp of pleasure; still leaving you unsatisfied.

You really regret provoking him. You can’t even recall what you’d said to get him riled up and eager to prove a point; your brain was mushy: too focused on keeping yourself frozen-stiff and trying not to implode.

“Relax.” Gintoki’s words send a shiver straight down your spine and into your cunt.

That’s easy for him to say.

You try to lift your head from his shoulder, but his large hand shifts from your waist to cradle your nape and firmly pushes you back down. Your hips have a brief moment of freedom that you abuse without a second thought, adjusting your hips so his cock isn’t firmly pressing against your cervix.

Gintoki’s hand comes off your neck and lands hard on your thigh. “Stay still,” he grunts as the impact makes you keen, “your big head is blocking my view.”

What he wouldn’t let you see is how he hasn’t gone past a single page since you sat on his cock. He flips through the same panels over and over again, the words and the drawings blur and blending together. His entire concentration is spent keeping himself controlled so he doesn’t blow his load prematurely—but the way you tremble while your cunt flutters around him is driving him up the wall.

The air grows tense as neither one of you willingly admits defeat. Your breaths are strained with a whine every time Gintoki’s dick twitches, tempting you to give in and beg to be fucked. Gintoki’s nails dig crescent moons into your waist through your clothes, itching to pull you down and grind his hips up into you until you sob for mercy.

He’d never admit it out loud, but Gintoki—for all intents and purposes—is not afraid to cheat.

Gintoki startles you suddenly by throwing his long legs up from the floor, leaning back in the chair, and crossing them on the corner of his desk. You squeal with the violent shift, holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life as his cock seems to bury deeper into your cunt.

“T-That’s unfair..! You’re not—supposed to move—either!” you weakly smack his shoulder, shaking like a leaf on his lap. The pressure against your lower abdomen spiked. You know you can’t last much longer.

“I can’t even get comfortable?” Gintoki taunts, trying to provoke more of a reaction so he can claim both bragging rights and your pussy. “You’re the one moved shifted first, you know. If you can’t handle it, you can tell Gin-san.”

“You—”

A series of sharp knocks interrupt their bickering. You freeze. Another knock at the door.

“Boss?” A familiar voice calls out from behind the front door. “Are you in? I have something important!”

It’s Yamazaki.

You blanch and immediately try to pull yourself off Gintoki before Yamazaki could walk in on you, but Gintoki slams you back down onto his lap before you could rise an inch.

“Gintoki, we can’t!” you whisper desperately.

He doesn’t budge. “Suck it up,” he hisses back, “endure it quietly until he leaves.” There’s no way he could hide his erection if you got off of him now. If he’s going to be blue balled, he might as well be buried in your warmth.

Yamazaki calls out again, a little louder.

Gintoki smooths out their clothes and wraps his arms around your trembling body, holding you against him to fool Yamazaki into believing that you two were cuddling. “Come in.” he dryly responds.

You breathe through your nose and square your shoulders, grateful that Gintoki’s arms are at least large enough to cover up most of the tension. You bite Gintoki’s shoulder to keep yourself quiet, wetting his shirt with saliva and tears as you try to relax and play along, but Gintoki is just so big.

Yamazaki walks in, seemingly oblivious to the situation. He greets the head of the Yorozuya loudly but cuts himself off as soon as he sees Gintoki holding you against his chest. “Ah,” Yamazaki covers his mouth with his hand and goes from a near-yell to a whisper, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“It’s fine. She’s a heavy sleeper.” Gintoki snaps at the Shinsengumi spy, his lips in a flat line and clearly not in the mood to entertain. “What do you want.”

You can hear the hesitation in Yamazaki’s voice. You feel bad for him; whatever face Gintoki’s making right now is definitely scaring the shit out of him. But you really, really need him to leave. Gintoki probably feels the same way.

“I—um—was asked to inform you that Kondou-san requested your help in—"

“When?” Gintoki cuts him off.

Yamazaki shuffles around nervously. “T-Tomorrow.”

“Then bother me later,” Gintoki waves Yamazaki off, all but explicitly kicking him out, “and tell Gorilla to send me a letter with cash in it a week in advance next time!”

“R-Right!” Yamazaki bows his head but lingers for a second too long, staring suspiciously. He can’t help it; he’s trained to see the little details. But Gintoki is faster than he is, and kicks his foot across the table, sending the book flying straight into the poor man’s face.

Yamazaki is quick to apologize as he runs out the door with a new bruise on his head, leaving you in silence as you hear his hasty rush down the wooden steps.

You raise your face from Gintoki’s shoulder, a string of saliva connecting his shirt to your mouth with how hard you’d been biting him. Dazed and shamelessly bucking your hips for friction, you make eye contact with Gintoki for the first time since you started this pointless challenge.

“Toki,” you part your wet lips, “can’t take it anymore...”

Gintoki pushes the chair back and cups your ass, effortlessly lifting you up and onto the table as his chair hits the wall. You watch him tear off his shirt, soaked with your spit and salty tears, and toss it behind him, still writhing uselessly against his cock.

He heaves each breath over you, staring intensely as you stay sprawled out on the middle of his desk, equally flushed. Equally wanting. He nearly breaks the table with how much force he uses to bend over you.

“Fuck it.”

He crashes his lips against yours.

#gintoki sakata #gintama #gintoki sakata x reader #gintoki x reader #gintober #gintoki smut #gintama gintoki #sakata gintoki smut

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imaginedreamwrite · 11 months

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Nameless dbf biker fucking his innocent reader over the counter of her bakery

“You did it,” his hand creeps along your neck, fingers trailing the edge of the choker necklace he gifted you until he reached the pivotal ring and touched the smooth edge, “you got your dream.”

Its a tender moment, sweet and soft though it shifts back to the desirable and poignant heat that covers you from head to toe. That touch becomes possessive and you feel the pressure of his cock slipping from your cunt, you whine at the loss and receive his soft coo as reassurance.

“We have to christen everything.” He breathes into your ear, the tip of his fat cock slapping against your swollen pussy lips. “This is just one of many-”

“Please-!” Your cry comes out as need prevails your patience, a begging sound echoed in the empty bakery before he slowly pushes his penis back into you.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” he groans against you, hooking his fingers in the smooth ring of your choker necklace and pulls you back to his chest, “I won’t leave my sweet girl unsatisfied.”

Your hands grab his forearms, nails digging into his flesh to ground yourself against his thrusts. His cock is spearing you with every motion, the tip hitting your cervix as you’re rendered unable to move or breathe or even think.

All you can do is scream his name and hold on for dear life as he fucks you, as skin slaps skin and he claims you in your bakery.

He helped you get it, he helped you every step of the way, and now he’s going to fuck you in every surface.

“No,” he pulls out and grabs your hips, practically throwing you onto the countertop with your legs spread, “you’re not cumming on my dick. You’re cumming on my tongue.”

You have nothing to hold onto and trying to move your hips is useless. He has a hold on you, tightly keeping you where he wants you, leaving you hapless against his tongue. Its filling you, wet and warm, his nose just against your clit and your white hot orgasm is just on the cusp of hitting you.

“Cum, baby. Now cum. Cum on my tongue.” He orders you, demanding so softly yet leaving no room for argument. “Cum now!”

You hit your max and are pushed over, back arching and your thighs shaking. This is the first time you’ve felt a tongue and came, this is the first time you’ve felt your whole world explode.

“Yes, love. That’s what I want. Give it all to me. Im fucking greedy, give me it all.”

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usagimen · 2 months

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@antinomos : ‘ you know me by heart . it infuriates me that you know me by heart . ’ // naoya !

Within a sanctum built upon blossoms, small children once ran, becoming lost deep within the labyrinth. Through every petal poised && fiendish, she held onto a glimmer of light. When the days grew long && responsibility weighed upon her petite shoulders, she looked to him, knowing that in time the union of their bloodlines would relinquish them from suffering. How long ago was it? Before either was a thought, they cursed one another in feudal spats, she pondered the possibility was it not love that bore such malice? The shadows could not entwine with what remained intangible. Apparitions that only spoke of such misery, self inflicted or pulled apart from their adored sons, wondrous creatures require great sacrifice. She never wanted it, to hold his hand && laugh like they once did, where his words were sweeter than sugar upon the tongue. Hesitation that lingers, what is this monster that stands before a ravenous hound? Butchered && torn apart, the spirit, flesh, bondage that she wore to subdue the soul that was not yet ready to emerge or merely to clip her wings. “I know” he scowls, she smiles, the same dance they have always swayed to even when the melody no longer is there.

Hands that cusp his jawline, she always loved his eyes, the way they tenderly gazed upon her as a boy now they burned with conviction; glory, the wolf proclaims, because weakness is not an option it is a fate worse than death. You are the only one who seeks me when I wish to fade, it lingers on the tongue like delicate poison, has she always been dead? Slumbering in the echoes of nocturnal bliss, but the moon loves the hound, loyal && faithful. In another life, she would sit faithfully by his side, the pious wife that no longer wore her martyrdom like a shield, or maybe she would be nothing, the bliss of mundaneness. The land speaks of two lovers torn apart from separate homes, who walked with utmost power && might, destined to unite && fated to ruin.

“Because your heart is my home && I am too selfish to let go” when the summer faded, no longer running through her veins, the wayward daughter would grasp the silk of her tattered robes && return home. Amongst the towering shadows, where the snow glimmered && the everlasting winter led all to desolation, she was safe. Wasn’t it that way before? The snarling grins && caustic eyes, round cheeks of children that learned quickly, without might - you cannot protect anything. Her grasp is firmly, tenderly holding him to her bosom, orange blossom && sandalwood - warmth like a tender flame that traces against her skin. He is still a Zen’in, the voices of a distant past would furiously proclaim, the heir no less! Yes, the depths of the shadows would drive her to mania if she allowed it, wouldn’t her presence cause the same affliction? That was their demise, obsession that replaced each fading dream. There were moments she wished to profess, if there was a life she would have chosen it was the immature fantasy that they once conjured up. Godhood is lonesome, though she never desired it, the sacrifice upon an altar she did not build && willing cast in hopes to fulfill the yearning of others.

They had lost something, precious && innocent, she wished they were children again coiled together underneath the wisteria tree, the sheen of lavender that protected them from the outside world. “I love you, my dear husband…” green, she remembered, peering back into her own shy gaze && when he smiled, she could see tomorrow. “I remember the boy you were, who learned each step with diligence && whispered sweet nothings when I was scared, a luxury you bestowed upon me” the corner’s of her lips turned upwards as she kissed his temple softly.

“Even when you became the heir && no longer could tell me such wondrous things, then the head of the Hei, I still loved you dearly. Naoya, the nostalgia that is held in high regards is not because of fanciful wishes I made in girlhood but because it is true, we are not destined to succumb so easily - you are not a man that will yield && I am no docile wife, that is why we converge into one. The evening glory cannot bloom without the darkness, yours is the only one I wish to blossom in, even if it means my demise”

#––– ❛ answered ask 【 broken seals. 】#antinomos #// stares deeply at this #// you ever think the tragedy of the zen'ins and kobayashi??? that they're so entwined but cannot come together #// and then these two are pulled apart by their houses / duties

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sciencestyled · 3 months

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The Pixelated Odyssey: A Caffeinated Romp Through Digital Art and Algorithmic Antics

In the neon-drenched corridors of the digital age, where the binary beats of techno-wizardry meet the chaotic splatter of paint on a virtual canvas, there exists a realm so wildly innovative, it makes the Renaissance look like a high school art show. Welcome, dear interstellar surfers, to the electrifying circus of Digital Art and Computational Creativity, a place where Shakespearean fools moonlight as coding geniuses and Picasso's ghost gets into Twitter fights over NFT rights.

Picture, if you will, a world where the Mona Lisa swaps her enigmatic smile for a pair of LED-lit, meme-spouting lips, courtesy of generative art. Here, algorithms dance the Macarena, birthing artworks so unique, they could only be described as the offspring of a love affair between a Rubik's Cube and a Jackson Pollock painting. This, my friends, is not your grandma's needlepoint; this is art that computes, confounds, and occasionally crashes your system because, well, it's just that groundbreaking.

Now, let's dive headfirst into the pixelated pool of computational creativity. Imagine AI artists, not content with merely mimicking the mundane, deciding instead to throw the proverbial paint can at the wall to see what patterns emerge. These digital Picassos, armed with nothing but algorithms and a healthy dose of sass, create visions so complex, they make quantum physics look like a toddler's scribble.

Generative art, the crown jewel of this techno-renaissance, is where the rubber meets the road—or more aptly, where the cursor meets the canvas. Here, code is king, and randomness reigns supreme. It's as if someone fed a computer a cocktail of LSD and episodes of "Rick and Morty," then asked it to paint its dreams. The results? Artworks that pulsate with life, each pixel a testament to the beauty of controlled chaos, like watching a hundred-hour Vine compilation in a single blink.

But hold onto your hoverboards, because it gets even wackier. The marriage of AI and art isn't just about creating pretty pictures. No, it's about redefining creativity itself. We're talking about machines that can write poetry so profound, it makes Edgar Allan Poe look like he was just doodling in the margins. Or compose music that could make Beethoven throw his wig in a fit of envy. These silicon-soaked muses challenge our very notions of authorship and creativity, blurring the lines between man and machine in a duet of digital divinity.

Applications of this mad science/art hybrid are as boundless as the universe. Fashion, where algorithms design clothes so cutting-edge, they'd make Lady Gaga's meat dress look positively pedestrian. Architecture, where virtual reality allows us to walk through buildings that defy physics like they're defying a curfew. Video games, where procedural generation creates worlds so vast and detailed, they make "The Legend of Zelda" look like a quaint backyard adventure.

Yet, for all its brilliance, the path of digital art and computational creativity is not without its potholes. Critics argue that AI art lacks soul, that it's the equivalent of a microwave dinner: convenient, yes, but hardly gourmet. To this, I say: Poppycock! For in the randomness of algorithms, in the serendipity of computational errors, lies a new form of authenticity. An art form that mirrors the unpredictability of life itself, proving that even in a world governed by logic and code, there's still room for a little magic.

So, as we stand on the cusp of this digital dawn, let us not fear the rise of our creative machines. Instead, let us embrace them, selfie sticks in hand, as we venture forth into this brave new world of art. For in the grand (oops, I mean "spectacularly unconventional") scheme of things, the fusion of science and art through digital means is not just an evolution; it's a revolution. A chaotic, meme-filled, algorithmically generated revolution that promises to redefine the very essence of creativity, one pixel at a time.

In conclusion, dear cosmic voyagers, as you return to your starships and prepare to warp back to your respective dimensions, take with you this tale of digital art and computational creativity. A tale of a world where art is not just seen but experienced; where creativity is not just born but engineered; and where the future of expression lies in the hands of those daring enough to type "Hello, World" into the void. Buckle up, because the future is here, and it's hilariously, mind-bogglingly, unapologetically weird.

#science education #science #science art #art #algorithm

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prettynxsty · 2 years

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How BTS Likes It

Summary: This is literally just a series of drabbles on how they like to be railed.

Warnings: all of bts have pussies, futa/girlcock, the reader isn't really gendered? but just in case, mentions of squirting, mentions of creaming, namjoon impregnation kink, namjoon titties, obvs top reader, rough sex

A/N: tbh bitch i don't write drabbles, I had this shelved away and decided to post it. don't expect this sort of stuff to be frequent

Jimin rides you while you're on your back, hard and fast because he's greedy. It makes him feel shy but he feels so sexy when you stare at him like you want to eat him up. He likes having control but he needs to feel your hands on his hips, grounding him. It sends his heart aflutter because you could take over at any moment and fuck into him, making him moan and bounce around uselessly, while his tummy quivers pathetically.

Yoongi rides you while you're on your back, but he's going nice and slow. He has his hands gently pressed onto your chest or stomach for leverage. He has a really pretty arch in his back. He's doing that thing again. The thing where he looks at you with those big pretty eyes, the tip of his tongue lazily resting over the corner of his mouth, moaning in a breathy way. He doesn't have to ask because you know, grabbing his hips every once in a while and grinding in the slow, deep way that makes him throw his head back and his toes curl.

Taehyung is in the mating press, he squeezes his legs around your hips and his arms around your shoulders in a way that's so impossibly tight. He's greedy for you to piston back in and wants so desperately to touch you. You can feel his hip abductors trembling because he's falling apart. He’s calling for you constantly, wishing you could be even closer to each other.

You fuck Hobi on his back, cupping the back of his knees with your hands, pressing them up toward his chest. He thrashes his head around because you've restricted his squirming to fisting the sheets. Your thighs clap against the back of his, your pace is unpredictable as hell. You get so fucking deep inside of him when he's on his back like this. After so long his pussy starts talking back, wet and noisy because he's creaming nonstop.

Jin is lying on his side at a slight angle, his leg is thrown over your shoulder and the other rests on the sheets, you grip the upper and lower portion of his thigh respectively. Your knees dig into the mattress as you pound into him. His bony fingers are pale from how he holds onto the fitted sheets and pillow for dear life, his whole frame is bouncing. He's singing for you so loudly. His voice rises in pitch when you start fumbling with his clit, reaching a harsh rhythm. He croaks for you to stop when his thighs and hips begin to tremble violently, his squirt dribbling around the sides of your dick.

Joon loves to ride you in cowgirl because he can see all of you and touch as much of you as possible. Your face is buried between his tits when his head lolls back, his cream caking up around your base. You plant your hands on his ass, spreading his dumpy cheeks and plant your feet against the bed to fuck him harder. His pleas are chanting, but you know he doesn't want you to stop. He knows he shouldn't play around with getting pregnant, but his head is too far gone for him to remember if he took the pill this morning. All he knew then, is that he wouldn't mind having your kid.

Kookie doesn't mind any position you put him in. It shouldn't make him so wet when he thinks about how sore he is afterward. He mewls something beautiful when you yank his head back by a handful of his fluffy black curls and take him from behind. His hips bow toward the bed like he's a useless bitch in heat while you split him open. Other times, he's on his back, gripping the pillowcase under his head. your knees are spread wide, firmly planted. Your hands grip his hips and the barest cusp of his ass, lifting him to meet your hips like he's a dumb little blow up doll. He shivers and clenches around you each time you growl.

#sub!bts x reader #sub!bts #sub bts #domme reader #domme!reader #sub jungook x domme reader #sub!namjoon x domme!reader

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leatherednlace · 3 years

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Jolene

Dean Winchester x Male reader

Tags - Drinking, Tipsy, Sad, Phone calls, Mentions of Sam x Male reader, Revenge, Kissing, Dean Winchester puts the P in A, Riding, Hickies, Dirty talk, Praise, Slow sex, Aftercare

You watch as the man of your dreams, sam winchester fall in love with a women...you out of your mind, angry, upset for him leading you on, you call Dean to take you home...by telling Dean, now’s your chance to get back at sam...

A/N - Thank the “slowed” version of Jolene for this...

Taglist - @flamencodiva @wonder-cole @superfanficnatural @that-one-gay-girl

——————————————————————————

You took the last swig of your drink, the glass slightly cold in your hand, but the feeling was so comforting...the numbness.

“Another”

You slurred. Your eyes set on the pair in the far corner, you could already feel your blood boil, stomach turning, mouth twisting in disgusting.

There he was, hands on the strangers hips, moving there bodies to the music, he was heavily intoxicated clearly by the empty sets of glasses on the table they were once sat at.

You sigh...music filling the void, the drink making your head fuzzy with each beat. You continued watching them closely. Sam was never like this with you, his hands never travelled up your back, never wound up in your hair, lips never met yours...

Shaking your head...you had enough, you wanted more, anything.

You heard the regular knock of the glass being placed infront of you, the whiskey sat at the bottom, the brown liquor making your mouth water, you needed it.

You bring the glass to your lips, taking a swig, you feel the burn which was very addictive, your throat already revelling in the contact, but you wanted to go home, to feel those soft blankets wrap around your body keeping you warm.

Sam wasn’t paying any attention to you at all, as if you were invisible, non-existent. You could feel the usual pang in your chest, the hurt, the empty feeling, everytime you thought of him.

One of your hands steadily dove into your left trouser pocket, you pulled it out, as soon as the phone screen turned on, your eyes flicked over the 2 missed calls from Dean...why Dean?

Your eyebrows furrowed, without thinking, presumably letting the alcohol take over, you tap call. A wave of nervousness travelled across your body, hands standing up on your arm, why were you having this reaction?

“Hello?”

The deep, gruff, slightly soothing voice echoed in your ears, you couldn’t help the groan that left your lips, not only was it Dean...but his voice...

“D-Dean...”

He could already tell, a sigh sounded from the speaker, you don’t blame him, you had told him you wouldn’t get drunk, but he can thank Sam for that.

“Are you drunk?”

You nodded, but blurted out a sloppy “y-yeh”. You couldn’t help think why Dean hadn’t hung up yet, but you were glad he hadn’t, nothing ever compared to how...horrible you felt right now...

“You want something?”

You paused, to regain a somewhat “sober” state.

“D-Dean can y-you come p-pick me up...Sammy left me alone f-for some woman.”

You awaited an answer, clearly he was annoyed, not at you, but at his brother. He felt kind of sorry for you, Sam had been leading you on for all these months...it’s not right...he would treat you so much better.

“Hold on...”

————————

Silence.

The silence was like a heavy weight, both you and Dean keeping your eyes on the road. You tried mustering up some kind of plan to forget about Sam and what he was doing...what his deal was with kissing that woman.

But you couldn’t, every touch, every kiss, they were like memories imprinted into the back of your head, everytime you closed your eyes, you saw the way Sam was with her...he was never like that with you.

You could feel the tears brim at your bottom lids. You could feel anger course it’s way through your veins, taking over your body.

“What Sam did...” Dean paused, correcting himself “is doing...it’s not right, it’s not fair” Dean kept his eyes on the road, glancing back at you and forth to see if you were okay.

“It isn’t...D-Dean nothing’s fair...not in this life, we are hunters, we hel-“

You were cut off by Dean pulling off the road into a lay by, he couldn’t handle seeing you like this, the guilt he saw in your eyes every time he looked at you, Sam has broken you.

Parking the car he switched the engine off, twisting the keys and sliding them into his pocket. Placing a warm, comforting hand on your thigh he shook his head.

“Listen...I can’t control my brother or his actions, what he did tonight shouldn’t really be any of my concern but I can’t bare to see you like...”

His voice had you shivering, it was a comfort at this point, deep, quiet, much like a whisper but loud enough to not be. You looked to his hand rubbing up and down your thigh, smiling weakly to yourself.

You look up into his green orbs, everything stilled as if time itself switched off, if only for mere seconds. “It’s nice to know i have someone fighting in my corner...”

Your words were rather breathy, both of you close...too close to be friends. Dean’s hand squeezed your thigh, his eyes asking if this was okay...there was a slight pause as you watch Dean closely, hungry tongue lapping over his dry bottom lip.

“I-Is this okay?”

Removing his slightly warm hand from your thigh, he brought it up to cusp your cheek, pulling your face towards his own, nothing could prepare you for the way his lips crashed against your own, this wasn’t needy...this was want.

This kiss was wet, deep, everything you had dreamed of...with Sam. But what was this feeling? Butterflies? Maybe...Maybe Dean was the problem solver here, What if it was Dean all along?

Dean sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it. A whimper escapes you as Dean took charge, his tongue sliding against yours in a fight for dominance, clearly he’s won.

Soft grunts left his lips at the sounds of your whimpers, they sounded oh so heavenly. You move closer wanting to feel more, his hands pulling you into his lap. You were now situated on his lap, knees at either side of Dean’s thighs, his tongue still in your mouth.

He pulled away, eye’s now getting a good look of you, your features. “God your more beautiful then I remember”. Dean already managed to make you feel good with just words…you wonder how else he could do that.

You feel yourself blush underneath the street light, Dean chuckled deeply, clothed cock brushing against your ass. “D-Dean please make me f-feel good” you moan sloppily, hoping he would take charge of the situation and make you forget.

His hands pushed down your rather loose bottoms past your hips, your bare ass on show. You hiss at the cold air now surrounding you, hands clinging onto his shoulders as he manoeuvres your trousers and boxers.

Your cock sprung free and rested against his clothed stomach. Dean smirked knowing it was him doing this to you, making you hard under his touch.

“I’ve always wanted to make you feel good…fuck” he groans into your ear, his deep gruff voice forcing a shiver out of you. Your hands wonder down to his belt, unlooping it from it’s confines, finding it easier to unzip his trousers.

He buries his face between the crook of your neck, hiding away as he nibbles on the soft skin. One of your hands dive into his now open trousers, grazing the plump hard on he was sporting.

You pull him out, now feeling the heavy weight of it in your hands. Dean moans at the slight friction your hand gives his aching member…god he was a mess.

“I-I need to feel y-you”

You place his aching tip at your wanting entrance, plunging into you.

The low rumbling moans that leave his lips make you clench around him, squeezing him tighter, “oh my God.” Dean can’t even find the words.

You whimper in pain, the feeling of his thickness stretching you to accommodate his size.

Chanting your name over and over, whimpering as he sinks further into your warmth, as deep as he can possibly go. He grips onto you for dear life, as if he’d loose you.

His lips circle the shell of your ear, nibbling the soft area, breath fanning against it. “So fucking tight” he groans, using his hands to force your hips up and down, bouncing away in his lap.

Holding each other, you stay connected for a little while, enjoying the moment as Dean continues his harsh thrusts, rocking his hips into your tight heat, whimpers sounded out into the now fogged-up car.

“So much better then Sammy” you groan, this only had Dean slowing his hips, now pointing his aim at your sweet spot. “Love feeling myself deep in you…balls pressed to this ass” he gives it a smack, watching your face twist with pain and pleasure.

“Thought about this for years…’bout plunging my cock deep inside your little boy pussy…”

That’s all it takes for the coil to snap, you cling to Dean, hands squeezing his skin tightly as you scream his name, your cock twitched as you released your load onto his flannel, vision turning white.

“That’s it…squeeze around me, milk m- shit” Dean cums deep within you, load after load filling you making sure you knew who you belonged too. His eyes closed tightly…you could hear him pant, hardly able to catch his own breath.

He chuckles, half blissed. His eyes watched you closely, one of his hands coming up to cup your left cheek, taking in your features.

“How was it…” he mutters.

Your too fucked out and slightly tipsy to even open your mouth, instead you kiss him to show how much this actually means to you. Dean held you against his chest, kissing back with the same amount of passion.

Sammy was now a distant thought, everywhere you looked there was Dean…this felt right.

#x male reader #male reader #dean winchester #jensen ackles #smut #dean winchester x male reader

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vividvids · 2 years

Note

eli sunday practically seeing us as a god/goddess and being submissive and worshiping us. imagine if he wasn't afraid to do it in public 😍

A hand softly touches the back of Eli's neck, gently resting on his pale skin. The priest sucks in a breath of air, stomach dropping.

"There you are.. getting ready to pray, are you?" Your voice sounds from behind him, lilting through the air, teasing him.

The priest tilts his head back and fingers slowly wrap around his neck, he tilts just far enough to meet your eyes with his.

"Of course." Eli whispers out. Your fingers unclasp from his neck as your figure once again withdraws into the darkness.

The priest tries to reorient himself, stomach twisting with a sick sense of delight. A smile curls itself onto Eli's face.

He wraps his hand around his rosary.

"Oh dear lord in the heavens above us, grace up with your divinity on this blessed day of ours. I am nothing but devout to you, for if not for you I would have not been reborn. My life is owed to you, my lord. No one comes above you." Eli says as your hands wrap around his, your presence now gracing his front.

You look down at him. Eyes glazed over with desire. He's doing amazing. Pleasing you with his words, bending to your will.

He feels another presence inside of him. Tighter, hotter. Something he hadn't felt in years.

He deserved it, he thought. He'd been so peaceful with his virginity, holding it close to his heart. Loyal to the world of god.

Your hands hold a comfortable weight on his. Nails gently dig into his pale skin, leaving crescents in their wake.

His hazel eyes keep trained on the hands infront of him, but slowly drag up your arm. Eyes track from the arm, to the shoulder, eventually setting on his gods lips.

His body trembles, lust coursing through his veins.

Holy words, being used the most unholy of acts. Eli feels your hot gaze on him, burning holes through him.

"And from your lips you create tales and life that you deliver to your dedicated followers. You, my lord.. create everything I dreamed of." His voice now shakes with every word.

You put a foot on his chest, and roughly shove him backwards. Eli tumbles, back hitting the cold ground below him. You stand over him, nothing but power and radiance gleaming from you. You bend down, crouching over his body.

Your fingers trail on his face, cusping his chin to pull his attention back to you.

"Continue, holy father."

Eli sucks hair back into his lungs.

"You graced me with knowledge and presence, without you I would be nothing. I shall kiss the ground you walk on until my bones become brittle, and you bring me to paradise above." Eli says, just above a whisper. He feels himself lurching closer to the gap, about to fall off.

Your lips curl into a wicked smile.

"Do continue holy father, your grace brings back beautiful memories of your shadow in the sheets.. Tonight is a special one." You say to him.

Cruelty to him, your passion and calling.

Your hand unclasps from his chin, now raking down his face. It settles on his throat, squeezing it.

Eli's hazel eyes flicker up to meet yours.

"My lord, I worship you. I pray to you. I adore you. I glorify your name. Lead me to the path of light and salvation. Teach me your will, empower me. I beg of you." Eli eyes well with tears, now glossy. Voice scratched from your hand pressing down further.

He swallows a lump in his throat, struggling to speak. A thumb swipes tears away as his lord gives him a sincere smile, as your eyes soften.

"We have died together, arm in arm. I praise you my lord, for without you there would be no life to live. I thank you. Glory be to you."

Closer, now on edge. He feels his fingertips go numb, his mind now buzzing.

"Come to me my Lord, be with spoken inside my heart. Come inside. Kindle me with holy love, bring a fire to your devout followers." Eli spews out, his hands suction to your arm.

"Now." You whisper.

As soon as the word comes out from your lips, Eli feels his back arch from the wooden ground.

He bites his lip together. Eli feels his gaze on yours, your intense stare.. just watching in a weak moment.

It only adds more fuel to the fire.

Hot, it was so, so wrong. But the way it ran through his brain, it felt so good. Unholy, nothing but unfaithful. On Sunday, the day of the Lord. Using the Lord's name in such a evil way.

"Beautifully spoken, Father."

#vividvids #eli sunday #eli sunday x reader #eli sunday x gn!reader #very short but #there will be blood #paul dano #paul danos movies

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bubsdolan · 3 years

Note

It’s with Grayson Dolan, the main character is a girl, it’s about how Y/N is very convinced that she doesn’t belong with Grayson, and tries to reason with him about how he should choose another girl, but Grayson show her that he wants her . Um can there be a daddy kink too. Um can there also be like degradation and praising too. If it’s to much I fully understand, and if there’s anything missing just let me know☺️

you had been feeling extremely self conscious for a while now. hating your appearance everytime you looked in the mirror, hating the way you dressed and presented yourself compared to other females your age living in la and most importantly hating the way you thought deep down that grayson deserved more than you.

if only you saw yourself the way grayson saw you, like you hung each individual star in the sky.

you weren’t what you believed the standard of beauty worthy of grayson dolan. you weren’t the typical instagram model the whole world expected him to be with.

your boyfriend of 6 months who was nothing but attentive, loving and caring, never gave you any moment to doubt yourself or your worth. it’s not like needed to however, as your own inner demons did all the work for him.

grayson jumped up from his designated side of your shared bed the minute he heard your heart wrenching sobs coming from the shower. it was part of your nightly routine to take a shower before bed and wash the day away, but crying whilst doing so was certainly new and something grayson never wanted to hear or see again.

“baby,” grayson’s voice was barely audible above your sobs and the water beating down on the green tiles you grew to love overtime, but you heard him. you always heard him.

knocking on the door as a signal he was going to enter, knowing you never locked the door due to not liking the distance it created between you and grayson on the rare occasion he hadn’t accompanied you in the shower, grayson stepped into the steamed up bathroom, barely being able to make out your deflated naked body.

no more words are spoken as he strips down from his boxers and climbs into the shower beside you. not caring in the slightest that he was moments away from his slumper, you needed him. you always came first, no matter if it meant getting his hair wet right after he just got done washing it.

“hey pretty girl, what’s these tears for huh?”

you broke down more at the softness of his voice, a tone and vulnerability only reserved for you, making you hate yourself further for doubting him ever wanting to be with anyone but you. grayson pulled you into his arms as he found you knees to chest on the bench he had other ideas for its use at the time of building but his favourite use was to sit on it and hold you, in his arms. safe and protected.

“yo-you shouldn’t be with me,” you choke out. falling limb into grayson’s chest and holding him as close to you as you could, although contradictory to your untrue words.

grayson’s heart broke. words he never wanted you to ever utter again, much less think are true.

“sweetheart, you’re it for me i don’t want another soul.”

“loo-look at me grayson! you deserve more.”

if you weren’t an emotional wreck, clinging onto grayson for dear life as the water rinses down his bare back and causes goosebumps to litter his delicate skin, he would have laughed in your face. not once has grayson ever doubted his love for you, he has never considered the possibility that you weren’t good enough for him, not once has he looked at someone eles in the way he looked at you. not once did it ever cross grayson’s mind of a life without you- his soulmate.

there was no grayson without his y/n.

wiping your tears with the pad of his thumb, his eyes set firmly on your own clouded ones, they darken. a look of lust and determination taking over his face as he knew in that moment, his words wouldn’t be enough to debunk your thoughts.

“let me show you what you deserve, baby,”

grayson knew he had to cheer you up the one way he knew how. the only way he was allowed to, treating your body with the upmost pleasure, showing you exactly who you belong to and that he was the only person on earth who could.

you barely had time to catch your breath and control your tears before grayson was manhandling your body in a way that had your legs clenching. spreading your legs wide apart and making you straddle his lap, your body’s well oiled thanks to the shower that was still running and working as a mechanism to make your next movements smoother.

“gonna ride me mama. want you to put yourself to work on my cock, yeah. you’d like that wouldn’t you slut.” grayson growls. his throbbing penis rubbing up and down your slick folds as his hand connects with your neck. a squeeze light enough to get you withering and moaning but also strong enough to assert his dominance.

“ye-yes daddy.”

“tell me you want it.”

“i want it, please,” you reach down to speed up the process of feeling grayson sink down inside of you. so desperate to be filled up and used as grayson pleased.

slapping your hand away, grayson’s grip on your neck tightens. his plump moisturised lips attaching to the skin of your beasts that were directly in his face and biting at the tender area. being sure to leave marks that he would attend and make a fuss of tomorrow.

“beg me, slut. beg for daddies cock like the greedy whore i know you are.”

“fuck me daddy, please. i want your big juicy cock inside m-me, need it.”

not being able to resist you any longer, grayson lifts you up by the curve of your arse and places you directly over his cock. legs spread and pussy waiting to be destroyed, to show you who owned you and to prove to you to never doubt yourself or your relationship.

“oh god oh god, it-it’s too big.” you cried out once the full length of him was resting inside you.

“you’ve had it all before baby, just get used to it again.” grayson reassured you, surprised that he could utter more than a few words due to the tightest of your cunt. it was like a vice, sucking in him deeper with every bounce.

thank god for the wooden shower bench. it allowed you to position your feet comfortably on each side of grayson’s thighs and get the perfect rhythm, assist edge by grayson’s hands groping your hips, to glide up and down the only dick made for you.

you rose up off of his length and sank back down with a sharp moan, carefully gliding along his length with your head resting on his shoulder only taking a few inches at a time and gradually working your way down. you moaned in his ear telling him how good he felt filling you up like this.

grayson slammed inside of you with one long stroke making your entire body writhe around him. you were already on the cusp of climaxing as he began to pound into you with long unapologetic strokes, not being able to resist taking over and controlling the movements of your hips like he was used to doing in the bedroom. you completely lost your mind for several moments. feeling so full and satisfied each time he sank that thick piece of him inside you.

“look at how well you’re taking me, slut,” he growled. causing you to instantly obey and watch in awe of how you managed to take all of him. “see how fucking tiny you are, baby?” he questioned, to which you answered with a whimper. “this-“ he send a slap to your clit. “is my little pussy, you hear that. i dont want another- mine, all mine” grayson groaned unable to take his eyes off of where he was completely disappearing inside of you.

you nearly exploded at his words, the entirety of his length rest inside you for a short moment and watching the way your thighs quivered as you took him in, barely able to hold yourself up.

“fuck.” he growled so deeply when he felt you clamp down around him a little tighter. “look at me.” he rasped, your eyes immediately snapping up to meet his as he began working into you at a much faster pace. grayson knew at this rate he wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer. you needed to cum before him, you were always first no matter how close, how desperate and weak he was.

pulling him you off his body so abruptly by your hips, you whine childishly at the loss of contact. grayson barely gives you enough time to register what he’s doing before laying you down on the beach and spreading your legs followed by your pussy lips, with one hand.

reaching for shower head, he turns the setting up to the highest and aims it direct to your pussy. the pressure of the water hitting right were you needed it to, the overbearing sensation in the pit of your stomach bubbling stronger as your legs violently shake.

“oh-oh more daddy.” you throw your head back in a moan of indescribable pleasure. your nimble fingers twisting at your erect nipples as you coax yourself closer to a climax.

“cum for me baby, show me what a good little bunny you are.”

“daddy!”

you squirt. your juices blending in with the water being used to penetrate your pussy as grayson continues to help your through your orgasm. the water pressure now causing some sensitivity as you whimper, unable to control your legs from shaking and completely giving into the feeling.

grayson watches in delight as you come down from your intense high. turning the shower off completely and once again lifting you into his arms and chest as he waited for your breathing to regulate. his arms tightening around your body as he pressed soft kisses to your wet hair, eyes closed in bliss at the skin on skin contact after such an intimate moment.

feeling your heart beat against his own brought him peace and comfort.

you both make no attempt to move, your body shriving slightly from the cold air cutting through the pair of you but being in each there arms, heart to heart, chest to chest, caused enough heat to grant you a few extra minutes to declare your love for each other. reassurance needed now more than ever in your case.

“i love you y/n, never think or question it otherwise. you're it for me baby, no one will ever take me away from you, not even your own demons. ill fight each and everyone off for you.”

“i love you, grayson.” you kiss the skin over his heart. signing in content at the way grayson helped crush all your insecurities. he was made specially for you.

“yours forever, sweetheart.”

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voxmortuus · 3 years

Text

Working With Dean

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Supernatural Fanfic

TW: Que Opera Singing voice SMUT! | Worried Dean | Language | Talks of shooting and stabbing.

Dean Winchester smut. F!Reader who had gotten wrapped up in a case with him and after he saves you, then it gets a little hot and heavy.

Prompt: From@luciferslittleastre

Bang, bang, bang goes the gun. One, two, three bodies fall to the floor with holes in their heads. Blood and black ooze all over the floor leaking from them. A bang on the door and a jump-scare from one unruly demon that decided hanging from the ceiling was a brilliant idea. Wrong. With a stab to the heart, the body dropped. Wiping the sweat from his brow he let out a low growl looking around, listening, revolver gripped tightly in his large hands with the knife. Licking his lips he let out a soft breath hearing you scream for him. Hearing the chains rattle hearing you scream bloody murder he didn't think, running through kicking open the door.

"You have one chance, one to let her go." Dean demanded. The demon laughed.

"Really, Winchester? That's cute." She went to go stab you but before she could even draw her blade the gun went off, you winced and the body hit the floor.

He looked at you and checked the body for a key of sorts but there was nothing. Growling he looked around and saw a pair of bolt cutters cutting you loose he looked at you. "Next time, listen to me." He demanded.

All you could do was wrap your arms around him. "If there is a next time." You tell him letting out a soft sob but burying your face in his chest you took in a deep breath holding him close. "Just hold me." You tell him.

His strong arms wrapped around you as he rested his chin on top of your head. You close your eyes and let out a soft breath, his flannel shirt clenched in your fists. Sobbing softly you look up at him. "I was so afraid in that moment." You admitted.

Looking down at you he let out a soft breath, his features got soft and caring, cupping your cheek he looked into your eyes and kissed you softly, but that softly turned more possessive, more feverish. Your body felt like it was on fire as you pressed yourself closer to him. Your hands move to press against his chest.

The kiss turns deeper as he backs you against a wall he takes your hands and pins them above your head kissing your lips, nipping at your neck and jaw, your flesh goosed, and your mindset on one thing and one thing only. His free hand moved to undo your pants as he slipped his hands between your legs feeling your warm needing bud at the tips of his fingers.

He pressed against your warm needing damp flesh moving his fingers in a rough circular motion around your bud, rubbing the very tip of your bud sending a wave of shake through your body, your knees and legs shake biting your lip you let out a soft moan. His lips crash against yours feeling this wave of need pulse through you. He pulls away looking over your face he pulls your pants down you wiggle your hips a bit trying to drop them as you step out of them he grabs you between the legs, cupping your cunt in his hand. The warmth of his hand pressed against the warmth of you.

He lets out a groan as he sticks his middle and ring finger inside of you, you let out a buckled gasp as your head presses against the wall, he still holds your hands above your head. His fingers curling inside you brushing against your sweet spot. You moan out softly arching your back against the wall. He licks his lips feeling how wet you are, smelling your need. Growing hard against his pants you look over his arm leaning in you nip at his veiny arm and he growls. His fingers moving in and out fast, you begin to pant.

"Fuck." You whimper. "Fuck me." You whimper again.

Looking over your face. "Beg for it." He demands.

"Please Dean, please fuck me. I need your cock. I need you inside me." You beg.

Smirking he unzips his pants moving fabric aside just enough to free his hard throbbing member from his pants. Lifting you enough to shove himself inside you you let out a moan and your hips buck against him. "Oh fuck." you moan. He groans against you as your boot-covered feet dig into his lower back as he thrusts into you with this primal need to satisfy himself. Groaning and growling he slams his hips into yours pushing you against the wall a hand wrapped around you and the other on your throat with a grip that sends this sheer moment of pure submission to this man.

"Fuck you're so wet." He growls against your lips as he nips at you, his bare cock spreading your walls, filling you from the entrance to the wall. Feeling him in this primal state of sexual frustration and tension with you was something you've almost dreamed of, in fact, you have dreamed of, but the sensation felt so much better than the fantasy. You could only imagine in the shower or when he wasn't around so much before you break and cave and this moment, he broke and crave and was using you to satisfy his own needs as well as your own.

Dean pulls from you and turns you around your hands against the wall. You look over your shoulder. "Use me." you tell him. "Dean, use me." you reassure him. Looking over your face he wastes no time, shoving his cock right back inside you, his fingers digging into your hips, knowing damn well that your hips are going to be bruised he gets rougher with you.

"Fuck you feel so good." He growls as he slams his cock into you harder, your ass slapping against his hips, he unbuttons his pants and his pants and boxers fall to his knees, needing to feel your skin against his. A hand reaches for your hair, gripping it in his hand while the other reaches around and grabs your breast gripping tightly as he fucks you harder. Your moans turn to screams feeling him hitting your sweet spot over, and over.

Your nails dig into the wall and your toes curl in your boots as he pulls you away from the wall by your hair. His panting and groans fueling your own as he thrusts upwards into you. Your moans pure screams of euphoria at this point, and there seems to be no stopping in sight at this rate, but you don't care, you're enjoying yourself too much, and he seems to be taking his frustration out on you and you couldn't feel more helpful in your life right now like he has given you a purpose for once in your life. Your purpose is to be used by this man, to make him happy and that is exactly what was going to happen.

The faster he went the more you were getting closer to your finish, but you kept telling yourself that this wasn't for you, this was for him, making him happy, but dear fuck you couldn't hold it in anymore, "I'm so fuckin close." You tell him. Growling he snarls a bit more.

"Come on, cum on me, but I'm not done." He stated. With those words alone you orgasm your hardest orgasm.

"FUCK! Oh FUCK!" Your body shakes his hand goes from your hair to your throat, the other hand gripped on your breast not letting up in his strength.

"Fuck you're so fuckin wet!" He moans into your ear his hand tightly around your throat as he presses harder into you, faster, feeling his own finish on the cusp he growls. "Fuck." he groans.

"Cum in me Dean, mark your property." You plead. Not even thinking Dean did just that, which only makes you cum again, screaming and moaning louder for him your voice echoed through the walls and into the area surrounding the building, and then there it was... utter silence. Panting from both of you as he pulls slowly away from you, fluids flowing from you, dripping onto the ground below, he stepped back and watched his handy work and smirked.

"Who's pussy is that Buttercup?" He asks you.

"Yours... Only yours." You smile as you stick your leg back into your pants and pull them up, smiling you look at him. "Thank you for saving me. I'm sorry you had to do that. I'll be better next time." You promise him looking over his face after he pulled his pants up and licked his lips. Leaning in he kisses you softly.

"You better." He smirks. Holding you close he grabs his things and you two walk out of the building. Getting into Baby he turns the engine over and starts to head back to the hotel. You two singing to the music on the radio while feeling like you are on top of the world. Pulling in Sam looks over you two and smiles.

"Hey guys, how'd it go?"

"Hey, Sammy." you smile and wave. "It went well. Dean saved my ass, but all in all, it went well." You state feeling confident.

Dean chuckles nodding, "She's a natural. May take her on more jobs." He looked down at you and smiled. You flush and smile looking at Sam and nod.

"Can I?" You ask.

"I umm, sure?" He gives a confused look and Dean smiles looking at you.

"Time for you to get some sleep, long drive in the morning." Nodding your head you climb into bed while Sam and Dean head outside to talk this over. Listening to the sound of their voices for a bit you drift into sleep.

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Text

Breathe

AN: I was contemplating on some future multi-chapter fic things and when I realized I couldn’t put this into any of them with my current plans, I ran over here to write this little drabble because I NEED TO WRITE IT!!!

Also, I know this was OH SO LONG AGO COMPARED TO OTHER THINGS, but I was thinking about it because I just watched my favorite reactor (A Goodwin TV) react to Midnight Sun and it’s on my mind, as well as the reason above. (Imma just name drop him real quick cause his AOT and ATLA reactions are GOLD) Okay, name drop over, back to the drabble/One Shot

FINALLY: If I’m being honest, I kinda imagine Vampire!Reader from Wings in the Dark doing this, but still, don’t take that as canon, cemented fact here, it’s just READER in this piece...but in my mind that’s kinda what I was thinking, heh

Characters: Levi, Reader, Erwin (Post-Mortem, Mentioned)

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, Post Canon-Character Death, Grief, Loss, Brief Non-descript Nudity, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count--Idk, I wrote this in Tumblr and was too lazy to check in google docs or something just take the drabble from my mind at 1:30 a.m.

*Reader’s POV*

Ever since Levi made the choice, there was a solid wall between the two of you, unseen to the human eye, but felt by both of you as it seemed to tower far beyond the abused walls of Wall Maria that you were surrounded by. It wasn’t out of any animosity towards you--by now you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t angry at you or anything like that. Far from it, actually.

But there were still things to do. Injured to look after--what remained of the Scouts to be injured, anyway--and a sweep of the town to make sure there weren’t any more surprises lurking that might wipe out the very, very few who remained. For a brief moment, you’d considered following him on that sweep of the area before deciding against it. You weren’t out of the woods yet, there were still things to do, and you weren’t going to distract him.

Even when Levi and Hange went to put Erwin’s body to rest, you didn’t follow, both of them already making it clear that it wouldn’t be rushed out of respect, but it was not going to be a long affair, either. The necessities, maybe a more personal touch here and there, and then back to work.

And he might want that time alone, as well.

When Levi came back, you got to your feet, expecting to pull him aside and at least talk to him, but he kept walking, stepping around you and heading straight for Armin and the others to have the much needed talk with them.

You silenced any kind of comment or concerned look that tried to rise to the surface at that. And you held your tongue as the five of you walked through the broken streets of Shiganshina to finally see what this great sacrifice bought, or rather revealed. The trip back was silent, everyone either busy with recoveries or with heads swimming with the reveal of humanity beyond the walls, bent on the destruction of everyone within the walls. But even with thoughts as monuments as that, you were painfully aware that nothing had been said between Levi and yourself still, that Levi was quiet as ever--no, quieter--and that there was a sense of something brewing in the air around you. You didn’t see any cracks in the façade, but when Wall Rose appeared, and the sea of smiling celebratory faces below, and then around, the blur of the world around you all as you were swept away in a sea of people who wanted to know what happened, what this meant, all these responsibilities suddenly falling on new people, reports needing to be made, debriefings, no rest for the wicked...

Even you couldn’t breathe with the sheer size of it all. It was insurmountable, a weight that was pressing down with no escape, and that was just what you felt. You didn’t have the weight that was on Levi’s shoulders, the knowledge and choices and responsibilities still oh so damn fresh with no time to process. So much to process. It still hadn’t quite clicked that the 10 people who came back to Wall Rose were the only ones who were going to be coming back.

Somehow, at some point, you and Levi found yourselves walking through familiar halls, past doors that suddenly found themselves without use, the halls empty of any activity or signs of life--at least the ones you were walking. There was life, elsewhere, but not in this particular wing, not at the moment. It was just you, Levi, and the bloody silence, the wall that Levi had shored up and somehow managed to keep up without any visible cracks.

Visible.

But that pressure in the air was mounting as he opened the door to your shared quarters, no creak on the door, just the softest whoosh of air as he stepped through, hands undoing the cloak from around his shoulders in the first two steps into the room, the gear being unlocked from the straps by the forth step you saw wobble--

The gear and cloak clattered onto the couch in a temporary position before Levi could finish taking off his gear, and you hardly had time to shut the door behind you before that wall shattered to dust without any warning, the moment it was just you and him and the silence with no chance of anyone disturbing you, as soon as you were hidden from the world.

It clicked, and it all came crashing down, all at once.

The distance evaporated the moment Levi’s knees hit the stone floor, a hitched breath cutting through the air as you hurried to his side, not even bothering to take off your own gear or cloak as all your focus centered on the stalwart man crumbling so visibly in front of you.

His hands were curled into fists against the cold floor, knuckles white and teeth grit as he tried in vain to hold the floodgates closed just a few moments longer, enough to at least get out of his gear and get it properly put away, for a more appropriate time and place than immediately on the floor of the office/sitting room portion of your modest shared quarters. But all the emotion he’d been bottling and trying to subdue until a more appropriate time could not be held back any longer. The moment the weight of it all hit him with nothing left to distract him was the moment he couldn’t hold it back any longer. Silent tears were carving a path across a face that had only gotten a few splashes of water to clean up hours ago. All the resistance and struggle he could still muster wasn’t enough to stop the sudden onslaught of damned up emotions hitting him at once.

As his shoulders shook and he started to turn his face away, still making an attempt to hold it back a bit longer, your arm slipped across his back, the other carefully touching his shoulder to turn him to face you. He didn’t have it in him to resist, he was too busy trying to contain himself to divert any energy into resisting your quickly offered embrace even if he wanted to. So, he turned into you, your hand coming up to gently thread through his hair and cradle his head into you as you maneuvered you both so you were facing one another. Your other arm was moving gently along his back in soft rubs not necessarily to soothe so much as to help him relax enough to let it out in a way that didn’t seem so physically painful. Right now the hitched breaths sounded sharp and sudden, the kind that made a persons chest physically ache, his muscles tensed so tightly you were worried bones would snap and sinew would tear.

You didn’t know what to say--what kind of words could possibly be of solace to him at a time like this, the weight of all that death and sacrifice and his monumental choice on the roofs of Shiganshina that had cost him someone more than a dear friend--cost him Erwin--causing him this physical pain.

One thing at a time. He needed to let it out, not bottle it up. He needed to release some of this grief, and he needed to not hurt himself even accidentally in the process.

“Just breathe, Levi...just try to breathe...” you murmured to him, trying to make your back rubs make a smooth, soothing pattern that mimicked a breath in and out to get him to slow down and breathe around the tears and the jagged breaths.

You continued your mantra of telling him to breathe as he struggled to follow your suggestion, breathing sporadic and tears dampening your uniform as you held him securely against you, fingers threading gently through hair that had turned greasy with the dirt and sweat.

He was going to want a bath right after this. But first, he needed this emotional release. That was the most important thing, even he seemed to realize that.

His fists raised from the cold floor to instead tighten into the fabric of your uniform, clinging to you in a death grip instead of digging into the palms of his hands. He was still shaking, and his breathing still sounded painful at times, but it was slowing down as he tried to match his breaths to the pattern of your soothing back rubs, trying to slow it down and take deeper breaths. You simply told him to breathe and rocked slightly in place, chin moving to rest against the top of his head.

You weren’t trying to make the pain go away--you knew you didn’t have that power. But you were going to offer him what help and comfort you could.

As Levi’s breathing slowed down to something a bit more manageable, you pulled away just enough to look at his face, hands shifting from his back and hair to gently cusp the sides of his face in your hands, thumbs wiping at the tears that had stained his cheeks and your clothes. He wasn’t looking you in the eyes, still, considering how rarely he let himself be this vulnerable, even around you. But this was a special exception, an anomaly none of you could have predicted, and you were making more than just simple, small exceptions.

His eyes were bloodshot from the harsh crying, and he looked utterly exhausted, like if you told him to go to sleep right now he actually would, without issue, but definitely with nightmares.

You were both in for some harsh and brutal nightmares going forward.

But again, that was not your focus right now.

Your thumbs gently wiped at the tears that were now trying to hide in the already-made rivers on his face, your touch kind and tender, your eyes full of sorrow of your own--you’d known so many of those that had died, as well. And you knew that Erwin had been special to Levi in a way you didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t the same thing you and Levi had, but it was still deep and strong in its own way, and it had just been cut out of him the first time while he was helpless to do anything about it, and the second time with his reluctant consent.

It took a few moments, but he finally looked at you, briefly, which was all you needed--that quick dart of his eyes towards yours, and the fact your gaze was locked on his eyes was enough to trap his gaze to yours long enough to say what you needed to.

“He was ready to go, Levi.”

Almost imperceptibly, Levi’s eyes widened at the fact that was the first thing you were going to say to him, out of everything (besides the brief coaching to calm him down. The first face to face, conversational thing, first real sentence).

You didn’t know what to say about the grief of so many people dead just so he could get one shot at the Beast Titan, which he then ultimately failed because of a split second of hesitation. You didn’t know what to say about being the one to make the decision to make that suicide charge, sending all those people to their deaths willingly. But there was one single thread you felt like you could actually say something about, something that might help ease his burden even the slightest bit. The pain and loss would still be there, but his load would be just a bit lighter...hopefully.

One grief and--you hated to say it, but--failure, that burned to the forefront of your mind as the greatest personal pains he had to be feeling right now.

Erwin.

You would focus on that. With Erwin, you had some kind of comfort to give, as strange as it may seem. But Levi could not take the full brunt of Erwin’s death, not as harshly as he was. Yes, he’d made the decision, both times, but again...

“He was ready to go,” you said in a carefully tender voice, your thumbs gently tracing along the smooth edges of his cheeks and cheekbones, holding Levi’s gaze and making sure your words were sinking in. “We both saw it. You know he was. You gave him...arguably what he wanted the most. He was ready to go.”

Levi seemed to remember to breathe again, leaning his head forward into your chest once more--voluntarily, this time--and simply seeking your quiet embrace. You didn’t make any more comments, simply holding him on your gathered position on the floor, staring off at nothing in particular as you slowly rubbed his back, murmuring little reminders to breathe whenever his breath would start to hitch again.

When your legs started to ache from the kneeling position you’d taken to pull his collapsed form into your arms, Levi pulled away, not even pausing to wipe at any tears or say anything or even look at you. He simply got to his feet and started undoing the straps that made up the full body harness of the ODM gear, adding them to the pile and starting to strip off his filthy uniform as well. You clambered to your feet with a bit of effort, pain shooting up your legs and making you pause to wait out the pins and needles sensation burning through your legs from holding that position for so long.

“I’m going to clean up,” Levi said bluntly, his voice still gruff, gravely from the harsh cry he’d just had as he finished stripping of his dirty clothes and started to head for the bedroom door so he could reach the washroom.

“And then get some sleep?” you suggested, turning to face him with a worried look. Levi simply grunted in response, hand on the bedroom doorframe as you threw out one last thing before the moment slipped away entirely.

“For what it’s worth...” you said quickly, slowing down for the important part. “I agree with your decision.”

Levi paused, held his position, and then said in a soft voice, “You’d be the first.”

“That’s not true. Mikasa and Eren--” you started to argue, but Levi simply turned and gave you a look that silenced your argument immediately.

They didn’t count. They’d been guaranteed to want Armin over Erwin because of their personal ties. Everyone else, however...you’d both heard it, even from Armin’s own lips in a way. Everyone else thought it should have been Erwin. Everyone. They had expected it to be, as well.

You squared your shoulders slightly, stubbornly standing your ground on the matter.

“I stand by your decision, Levi.”

Levi studied you for a long moment, fingers that had tightened to a white knuckle grip on the wood relaxing again as he gave a slight nod.

“...so do I.”

You felt a bit of relief seep through you to hear him say that to you and mean it, nodding as you started to take off your uniform as well. “I’ll be in there in a moment.

Levi hummed in acknowledgement and disappeared into the other room after that, leaving you to get undressed and tidy up the bear to be properly taken care of later when you were both in a better shape to do just that. Tip-toeing into the washroom, you could see Levi had already washed up and was simply soaking for a few moments, eyes closed and head leaning back slightly, one of his legs bending so his knee peaked out of the water as you approached.

He cracked an eye open once you got fairly close, sitting up and adjusting in the water for you to slide inside and join him, wrapping his arms around you in a firm hug and gently nuzzling against your neck, giving your jaw a soft kiss before he started helping you clean up, his movements gentle and slow, usually followed by a chaste, thoughtful kiss against your skin as the two of you washed you of all the dust, dirt, grime, and blood from the devastating mission. Once you were clean, you shifted in Levi’s embrace, curling into his chest as his arms linked around you again, holding you tightly to him and burying his face in your hair, breathing you in deeply and simply...holding you. Just holding you in silence, both of your minds heavy with the weight of far too many things, but finding a moment of solace in the unspoken fact that by some miracle you’d both made it out alive and were here to comfort each other in the aftermath, to help each other slow down and simple...breathe again. Even if it was just for a moment before the world continued forward in it’s harsh series of events. Even if it was just to hold each other until the water got cold and you had to migrate to the bed for sleep that would undoubtedly include nightmares of the very thing you each needed comfort for.

It was still a much needed moment where you simply clung to one another as that reminder to take a moment to breathe again.

Everything Tags: @antisteller

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @queenofcurse @wubbawubwub04 @lollobos @pasteldays @itsmeaudrieee @macaronnv @tokyo-banana @apuci-kis-szornye @morgana-olson @yellowminb @ashikothedog

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arans-princess · 3 years

Text

Run

HEY FUCKER I'M YOUR SECRET SANTA SO I HOPE YOU LIKE THE FIC!You won’t know the character you got till the end so sit tight!

ABO, BREEDING KINK, CNC, PRIMAL, OUTDOOR SEX

Your feet hit the icy ground in a sprint, dashing further and further into the forest, desperately trying to get away. Faster, faster, push harder the mantra repeats in your head as you make your mad dash out of the house.

You see, your heat came sooner than expected, and your alpha was away. You had handled heats without him before, so this is nothing new. You locked the doors, closed the windows and the curtains, got your toys and went to work. You were in the middle of bringing yourself to completion for the fifth or sixth time today, but they were all for naught- they just poured gasoline into your flaming body. Suddenly, you heard scratching at your front door, then knocking, then pounding.

It just seemed to get louder and louder as time progressed, and it was distracting, so you put down your toys briefly and went to your window, opened it, and yelled for the intruder to leave. Big mistake. Once you opened the window, the smell of an alpha’s rut hit you like a truck. It was a deep minty musk, one that caused more slick to gush down your legs. You caught his attention immediately, but thankfully you were on the second floor, so he couldn't come up to your room. Unfortunately, the confirmation that there was an omega in heat in this home was all he needed to double down his efforts to get the door open.

Panicked, you slammed your window shut again and tried to find a place to hide. You knew if you left the safety of the home, you wouldn't beat him in a foot race. He was much larger and stronger than you- faster too. You would never be able to outrun him or fight him off- your only option was to hide, so you did. You darted into the bathroom, locking the door behind you, and then slid under the sink. You closed the doors to the cabinet behind you and held them shut as you tried to catch your breath.

The pounding soon turned into slamming, and then it suddenly stopped. It was far too quiet for comfort, then -BAM! BAM! BAM! CRASH! The sound of your door being knocked off its hinges rang through your ears and sent chills throughout your body. This is the power of an alpha in rut, and the knowledge made a fresh wave of arousal flood your body.

Heavy footfalls on hardwood echoed in your ears; first, they stomped up the stairs. Then, they made their way into your bedroom. He unzipped his pants and dropped them to the floor. You heard his heavy breathing from your hiding spot as your grip on the door tightened. You prayed that he would take your soiled panties that you had discarded long ago and leave to another room so you could escape unscathed. He growled and pounded what you assumed to be his fist on the door that led to the bathroom; you heard the whistle of his nostrils as he inhaled deeply.

Then, there was silence. A deadly silence, one that chilled you to the bone but aroused you all at once. His footsteps snapped you from your trance, but your lust-filled brain chose that moment to take over completely. Before you even realized what you were doing, you crawled out from your hiding spot under the sink. The overwhelming scent of an alpha in rut took over your senses. The initial pull you felt before evolved into a carnal need to be near him- the need to be bred.

As soon as the bottoms of your feet hit the cool tile of the floor, grounding you, the sensation immediately dissipated and was instantly replaced by a dangerous mix of fear and adrenaline. Your feet moved faster than your train of thought as you pushed open the door and ducked underneath the alpha’s arms to make a mad dash to the stairs. Your abrupt movement caught him off guard, giving you a matter of nanoseconds as a head start to escape.

He was quick on his feet, catching your scent as you whizzed past him, then he was hot on your heels. His much-longer legs were able to take the stairs much faster than you ever could. Soon, you found yourself being grabbed from behind, and you felt a strong gust of wind hit your back before you were slammed into the carpet. The force knocked the air from your lungs and caused your head to throb. He followed you to the ground and hovered over you, panting like a wild animal. He tore your sweat-soaked shirt off your body and then his own boxers. You scooted back on your hands and feet in a desperate attempt to get away from this monster. His curly, black hair was sweat-soaked and stuck to his forehead; his eyes were low and slanted. The beast inside him had awakened. He followed you, crawling over your body, stalking you. In your last attempt to escape, you kicked him square in the jaw, stunning him. You used this to get away, and you sprinted out the door that he knocked down.

So now, you're here, running through the forest, naked and afraid. You're sprinting as fast as your legs can carry you, and you can hear him snarling. He's so close that you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. Your rational and instinctual sides were fighting. One side wants to do anything but stay put- to flee. While the other, wants to be taken by him, to be bred by him. Your indecision gives him the chance to shove your head into the snow-covered grass, forcing your back to arch and present your bare cunt. He enters you harshly, your slick providing all the lubrication needed.

Setting an inhuman speed, he holds you in place with one hand gripping your hip while the other tangles itself into your long brown locks. Using his grip in your hair, he pulls you up and uses this new position to deepen the angle, slamming you onto his cock with each thrust. Your cunt being filled so deeply and rapidly drowns your mind in pleasure. Your slick oozes out of your cunt with each thrust, and you feel it dripping down your legs, cooling your feverish skin, but it does nothing to quell the heat inside you. He ruts into you like a wild animal, unleashing his inner beast, then he rumbles in your ear, letting out a wolfish cry as he cums for the first time in your tiny little body. The warm spurts of cum shooting almost directly through your cervix into your womb has you reeling, launching you into your first proper orgasm. But the animal inside you wants- no, needs- more.

His cum joins your own, dripping down your legs as he fucks it out of you. You find yourself being used as little more than a fleshlight. He chases orgasm after orgasm and uses your body to do so. The whole time he snarls and growls in your ear, chanting “mine, mine, mine, mine.” You feel him shift the hand in your hair across your chest, pulling you tighter into him. He is so close to you that his scent is overwhelming. It floods your senses and makes the world around you go dark. Due to the change in position, his engorged tip kisses your g-spot before bashing into your cervix, and he hammers away at it as if he wants to knock it out, causing your walls to flutter around him as your body hurtles into another orgasm.

“F-fuck, ALPHA!” You cry out as the cusp of your orgasm takes over. Your body thrashes about in a pitiful attempt to escape from the stimulation, yet you crave more, more, more. You need this man- this beast- deeper, harder- you need every ounce of pleasure that his body can provide you. It’s a carnal desire that resides deep in your very soul. “Alpha, please- please breed me! I- I need your knot!”

“Such a slut for some random man? I see your mark. You’re a mated little omega, aren’t you?” His voice is low and cruel. “I wonder what he would say if he saw you like this, split open on another man's dick. He’d probably leave you.”

The thought of your alpha leaving you snaps out of your trance. Your omega wants so desperately to be bred, but you know your body, mind, and omega belong to your alpha, not this man. You start to struggle, fighting tooth and nail, scratching and clawing at his arms desperately in a pitiful attempt to get away. This spurs him on even more, his grip tightening as he plows into you, somehow harder than before. Suddenly, he flips you over onto your back, takes your knees, and pushes them up by your ears, effectively folding you in half.

His relentless pace starts up immediately. With the new angle, he can slam into that spongy spot that makes your vision blur. Your toes curl so hard they start to cramp, and your legs shake uselessly as he uses your body. Your cries for him to stop turn into a plea for more as the internal battle between your and your omega ends with your defeat. She wants to be bred so savagely that she takes over your mind, and your arms take hold of his back, and you sink your claws into it, holding on for dear life. You squeal and beg for him to go deeper, deeper, deeper, wanting nothing more than to be filled up with his pups.

“Alpha, please, breed me!” The cry leaves your lips before you even realize what you said. Shocked by your statement, his eyes glaze over, pupils blown wide with lust- his alpha has completely taken over him. You finally get a chance to look at his face. His curly bangs are sweat slicked and stuck to his forehead. His skin is so hot that you can see steam coming off of him and out of his mouth as he pants. His mouth hangs open as he ruts into you, and drool starts to drip down his chin. He looks absolutely feral, hypnotized by your hot cunt choking his length.

“You wanna be bred? You wanna carry my pups, you little omega bitch? I fucking know you do! I know you fucking do!” With that, his pace falters, the once-constant thrust becoming erratic. You can feel his knot start to swell at the very entrance of your cunt. It's so large, and he keeps forcing it deeper and deeper into you as he prepares to cum. Feeling just how large he swells sends you over the edge once again, and this time, you gush all over his cock. Your spasming walls are his undoing. With one final desperate thrust, his knot swells to the size of two golf balls, and he shoots his load inside you, the knot plugging you up entirely.

The two of you lay there for a bit, trying to catch your breath. He rests his head on your chest, listening to your heart beat and shielding you from the harsh winter.

“Well, that was fun, wasn't it, Omi? I didn’t think you would break the fucking door down, though.” You’re the first to break the silence with an airy chuckle.

“Well, I didn't think you would actually lock the door.” He retorts, mocking you, his reply slightly muffled due to his positioning. “Can you blame me? I wanted to make it believable! I'm a poor helpless omega all alone in heat! Why wouldn't I lock the door?” You tease lightly.

“I cannot believe your crazy idea worked.”

“It's the thrill of the chase! Giving into our primal urges entirely gets the job done much, much better.”

Once Omi finally regains enough strength to stand and lift you, he carries you back home, and you two chat about what could have been better and what you especially enjoyed. As you enter your home again, he shakes his head at the door that will need to be replaced- but that can wait until tomorrow.

His warm body protects you from the cold, and soon enough, you’re back in bed, snuggled up and comfortable. There is just one thing nagging you though- you know you have to ask, or you won't be able to sleep.

“Omi? Did you…. Would you really leave me if I-?”

“If you were forcefully impregnated by some other scum who shouldn’t be called an alpha? No, I would kill the son of a bitch and let you decide what you want to do from there. Either way, I'm not going anywhere, darlin’.”

#kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi smut #kiyoomi x reader smut #abo #omegaverse #Kayla in the dark #Aran's bby writes #tw.cnc

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Who’s A Pretty Boy?

Word Count: 5K

A/N: I wanna make him cry

You sit on your knees, body hovering above his stomach, hand laid flat as they hold you up, your mouth covers a soft colored nipple, pulling the soft bud into your mouth, having your tongue loll around it, quick, kitten-like flicks given to him as he ruts underneath you, his erection rubbing against your slit, enough to feel the warmth from the friction, to let sharp gasps escape past his scarred lips. He digs his heels into the mattress, stilling his hips above as he gives gentle, hesitant jerks above your core, and you can feel something warm slick by and coat your vulva in slippery strands.

“Tomura?” You call out to him, lips mumbled against his neck, feeling his pulse quicken. He whimpers in response and continues the motions, huffing and quickening his pace. “As much as I love how needy and cute you get under me, you know you aren’t allowed to jerk off to your heart’s content.”

“But I’m close,” he rasps out, his cock slipping past your lips, teasing at your entrance, before he pulls away and continues to rub at your outer area, staining it with thin, clear pre-ejaculate, sighing in relief when you run your tongue over an old scar, pressing a soft kiss on it, leaving it wet and soft. “I swear, I’ll get you off, just let me-”

“This isn’t about getting me off,” you remind him, raising him and moving away, letting his hips fall onto the bed with a soft thud. You sit on him, leaking onto his stomach, hands splayed across his chest, covering both breasts as the nipples peek through the gaps in your fingertips. “This is about you. You said such awful things about yourself.” You voice dips and he rolls his ankles, trying to look you in the eye but failing. “I need to make you feel pretty again.” You dip your head and kiss his temple. “My pretty,” you peck the space between his brows, “handsome,” your lips brush against his cheek, “strong,” his breath hitches as you kiss his nose, “wonderful,” your breath is warm on his lips and he parts them, his tongue peeking out and pressing against your lips for a quick second, “partner.” You kiss his lips- it’s soft and romantic, your tongue licking his bottom lip and once granted entrance, you push your tongue inside, curving around his and pulling away with a gasp and a soft blush tinting your face. “This is about making you feel good, love.”

He breathes heavily under you, chest rising and slowly, love bites bloom against his chest, circling around his nipples, darkening them in color and they pebble under your touch. Your palms slide and press down, rolling the buds under you, feeling the firmness poke at you. He whimpers under you, with a face a dark shade of red, eyelashes that cling together with dewdrops of tears. Your fingers replace your palms, pulling the hard buds, rolling and pinching them between your forefinger and thumb, a soft mewl escaping past his throat, his back arching and lifting you with him.

You slide past him, your slick shining on his stomach and he can feel the curve of your rear touch and graze at his erection, drips of warmth sliding past your lower back and slipping down. He keens underneath you, sharp sighs and hands curling around the bedsheet when you roll your tongue over a bud, the tip of your muscle teasing and prodding at the peach colored nipple. His hips buck, a hiss passes through his teeth as the friction sends ripples of pleasure down his cock. You nurse on his chest, pulling the bud in your mouth, cheeks hollowing as your tongue flickers around the shy, pink teat. He bucks and whines, soft mewls sounding the room, hands curling and fisting the blanket, fingers going rigid and nails turning to claws.

You pull away with a click, his teat shines in spittle, leaning down, you blow cool air onto him, peppering kisses over his areola, chuckling as he calls your name in a hoarse whisper. You give him a final kiss, pulling away with a soft smack and nursing on the neglected bud that beams with red from the treatment of your fingers. Underneath you, he lets pitiful sounds tremble past his lips as his hips stutter and rise with each breath, his cock twitching and he can only manage the word “close” in a rushed prayer, twisting the thin fabric of the bedsheet in his hands, cock burning with heat as he lets out a strangled cry. His hips stutter, and you’re a saving grace, moving yourself along him, edging his orgasm further, watching his face scrunch, eyes closed tight as you pepper yourself over his chest, past his collarbones and onto his neck, your nose brushing against new and faded scars. Your name comes in broken syllables, broken in between and high pitched, warmth flooding and sliding down your bum, and he drips and twitches onto his thighs, thick discharge staining his thighs in white cream that trails down his shaft.

He winces and grits his teeth as you move away from him, his still tender cock sparking with aftershocks when your hand wraps around him, your palm soft and warm as it envelops his cockhead and begins to jerk him. His eyes remain close, lips parted and moving with soundless words, words of praise that translates into soft pleads, mercy for a minute of rest, mercy for the pleasure to never stop, to let your hand roll over him and to milk him dry, to feel weightless as the second orgasm shoots past him, spurts of cream dribbling out. He calls your name, his fists loosening and the bedsheet under him is wrinkled and twisted into a swirl.

Tears stain his red eyes, spilling over with a mouth parted and face tinted red. He shakes underneath you, muscles tensing and hips rising in an attempt to jerk himself off in your hand, sighing and cooing as you tighten your grip. His arousal clicks in the room and spills over, coating him in warmth, legs twisting and he calls your name, hoarse and cracked, and when he collapses onto the bed, his thickness softening and the red tipped head that bloomed with life lessens into a delicate pink covered in white. Slender fingers raise and grasp your wrist in weak hands and yet with the mess of a man underneath you, you continue to take care of him, needing down to kiss at his chest, where he flutters and shivers in reaction.

Tears shine and flood over, tracing his cheeks in rapture and overstimulation, his face growing red and he whines under you, slapping a hand over his mouth, scrunching his face together as you hand swirls around him. It’s slow and tantalizing, a loose grip on his hardening member, feeling it swell as you glide up and down his cock in steady motions. He breathes harshly through his nose, nostrils flaring and chest blooming with red that creeps towards his face. You sit beside him, legs neatly folded underneath you and when you lower your head, he twitches, thinking you’re going to place his cock in your mouth, to finally feel a tighter grip that doesn’t make his legs kick out in frustration but he only whines more when you kiss at his collarbone, lips softly brushing against a scar.

“Stop,” he whines, voice high and needy, muffled and in pain. “This isn’t fair,” he croaks, feeling the familiar tightening of his belly. His hand falls from his face and rests above his chest, cupping at a breast.

“I think it is.” Your words are soft, nothing higher than a whisper, a hand rubbing his sides, a feather like touch that bumps his skin and leaves him squirming underneath you. “You said such bad things about yourself, Tomura.” Your lips drag along his body, resting upon another scar that extends three inches. “I don’t think you should get to call the shots after such negativity, dear.”

You tighten your grip at the base and give him a strong jerk making him gasp, beads of pearl peeking from his slit and shining under the light. And with the quick introduction of pleasure, it’s ripped away from him, your fingers fluttering away, nails grazing at a vein and he groans, throwing his head back, the building ecstasy flutters away, literally between fingertips. His heels press into the mattress, breaths deep and ragged, with a painful look on his face, he flutters his eyes open and looks at you through unshed tears.

“No,” he croaks, “what did I do?” His chest rises, and even to his own ears, he sounds so pitiful, so broken with the false promise of relief. “Please,” he begs and all at once, the image of Shigaraki is gone and is now replaced with Tomura who lays on his back, with a red tinted face, eyes pricking with tears and a voice broken with whispers and moans. “I promise to be good.”

Your hand cusps his face, thumb brushing a cheek, catching a tear that managed to slip and it glistens for a second before spilling down your palm. “You were so mean to yourself, Tomura. You know that right?” In your grasp, he nods his head shaikly. “I hate hearing you say such negative things about yourself.” You press a kiss on his nose, and his hand claws over his chest, red lines blooming in the next moment.

“I won’t say it again-” a groan fills the room when your hand returns to his shaft, fisted tightly over his base- “I- I promise.” He bucks his hips, trembling as you place a hand down on his navel, a silent warning to keep him still to which he follows with a shiver coursing down his spine. “Just please- please, take care of me.”

You inch forward, you hand gliding up and encasing his cockhead in your grasp. The hand on his face slides and tucks a strand of his hair behind his ear, pushing at the strands that stick to his forehead with sweat. “Do you know how much I love you?” Your lips meet his in sweet kiss, quick and with a quick swipe of your tongue across his scar. “I love you so much and to hear you call yourself such ugly names- something so vile and obvious lies,” your voice tightens and the space between his brows furrow, “it’s not nice Tomura.” You kiss at the corner of his lips, leaving a trail of kisses as you come to his ear, sucking softly on the lobe and releasing it with a nudge of your tongue. “You're so pretty Tomura. I don’t want you saying such awful lies about yourself, okay?”

He nods, unable to give a verbal confirmation. Chest stuttering and slowly your hand begins to move, stroking him and wiping your thumb above his slit, swirling the pre-ejaculate around his cockhead that has bloomed a deep shade of red, swelling and aching with the tease that has been enacted upon him. He sighs, eyes fluttering close, his pink muscle, swiping above where yours was placed. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying to keep his breathing under control. “Am- Am I allowed to touch you?”

“Not yet dear.” Your breath fans across his neck and when he reopens his eyes you’re positioned in front of his cock, lips hovering above, blowing cool air and watching him with careful eyes to gauge his reaction. He twists and lets out a hiss, nodding his head in rapid movements. “Sweetheart?” He hums in response, a soft moan in the back of his throat as your hand slides and flutters to massage his testicles, rubbing them in your palm, fingers moving expertly around him. “Does this feel good?”

“So good,” he mumbles, cock bobbing in excitement. “Can- Can you touch my cock, please?” He asks in a breathless tone, already close to his release with the little touch that he’s been given. “I- Please?”

“Whatever the prettiest boy wants,” you coo, and he can feel his face turn warm, eyes wide and once again, he’s unable to trust his voice, and nods to your praise, mouthing a thank you, keening as your other hand grabs his cock, fisting over it with a tight grip, soft clicking filling the room as his hands dig into the soft skin at your thighs.

The pleasure is so close for him, already at the doorstep with just a simple touch. He drags his nails across your skin, watching as you fondle him, rolling and massaging, tugging lightly and cooing over how handsome he looks- so needy and breathtaking and the words only bring tears to his eyes. He lets his hand slide and shakily, his palms cover his eyes. His breaths deepen, they lose the ragged, pleasure-tinted gasps and it’s replaced with a harsh, croak-like breathing, and he calls your name in a pained cry, shaking his head and it’s only intensified when your mouth replaces your hand.

Your mouth is warm, tongue lapping and swirlin above him and the hand moves away from his testicles and onto his thigh, rubbing a palm over him as you swallow. His tip hits the back of your throat, a bitter taste running down your throat and causing your eyes to water. He sobs as you take him, flinches at the wet smacking sounds that protrude from you and him, shivers and moans when your teeth graze against a vein. His eyes dart and your hand has disappeared between your core, fingers disappearing into you. Your cheeks hollow and he can only lament your name, something cracked and layered with pleasure and he cries as he shoots down your throat, filling your belly with warmth.

Even as he shivers and shakes, muscles tensing, you continue to bob your head in a quick rhythm, pressing down until your nose touches the base and you’re choking against him, eyes watering and releasing with a gag, your chin coated in a light layer of drool while his cock glistens with your spittle.

“What a pretty boy,” you call out to him, pressing your lips against his in a sensual kiss. “You look so cute. So strong and handsome.” Your words brand against his skin, flinching as he tries to calm himself through the aftershocks, lightly grabbing your hand and breathing hard with tears still in his eyes and mind growing foggy. “Tomura, you’re amazing.” You press your lips against a new scar, one that is still tender and stings when just the right amount of pleasure is pressed onto it. A scar that can be easily opened and make him cry in agony.

“No,” he breathes, shaking his head, repeating the word over and over until he is simply mouthing the words. “No, I’m not,” he whines, chest stuttering with cries. “I’m awful. Fuck!” He curses, spitting the word out and his fingers bend and twist and hepeirces his skin, marking it in red as he drags his hands down, teeth bared as hot tears burn his skin.

You call his name quick and pull his hands away from him, your face knitted in worry and continues to cry, stuttering and repeating his previous words, until they are muffled against your shoulder, his hands clawing at your back, and he’s exposed. He’s more exposed than he will ever be. He cries into your shoulder and tells you that he is not beautiful, he sobs and shakes his head. You run your hands through his hair, pet at his back and trail up and down his spine. You call to him, quiet and still, you pull his head off of your shoulder and his nose is tipped red and eyes that glimmer.

“Tomura, my love,” he flinches at the name and you pepper a kiss against his cheek, catching a bitter tear, “you are not awful. You are not horrible to look at.” You hold his face in your hands and kiss at his tears, mindful of the soft whimpers and the tightening of his hands against your back. “Tomura, I love you so much. You’re so handsome.” You kiss at his nose and swipe a tear away. You sniffle light and press your lips against him, dragging them across until they pepper and cover his face in love. “You are my everything Tomura. You will always be the more beautiful person to walk this earth.”

He whines at your tough and puts his lips on yours, pulling you above him as he whines and tries to nuzzle his cock against your core, desperate for a second of relief. You understand his message, settling above him, hissing and resting your forehead against his as you lower and rise above him.

The soft light catches and forms a halo around you, body glowing and shining with sweat. You are above him, glowing and ethereal, and he lays below you, covered in tears and scars, hands too afraid to touch you when you shuffle, moving your hips bending over to capture him in one last kiss, he lets his eyes half close as you start to swirl your hips. Your eyes clench close as you move around him, feeling as he fills your walls your own walls wrap and mold to his shape, squishing and trembling around him.

You’re soft; so deliciously soft, as he stays inside of you, cock twitching to life, already feeling the burning sensation of another orgasm about to come, teetering around the edges, the wisps of it’s burning flame dancing and teasing as you move above him, palms laid flat against his stomach, touching at his abdomen, smoothing upwards until they cup his chest, your own back arching and you clench at he hits at a spot. Your walls are like velvet, soft and welcoming, and he welcomes the pleasure, sighing and throwing his head back, letting your cunt wrap around him with a tight grip.

You’re above him- one hand holding you up as the other cusps his face and his eyes open in a daze, a soft smile tracing his lips and you two share another intimate kiss, tongues swirling around each others, pulling away with gasp and he looks at you with stars in his eyes, head tilting and positively in love.

“You’re so handsome,” you coo and when he starts to shake his head, his bottom lip trembling, you quiet him with another kiss, pulling at his cock and pressing yourself close to him once again. “So handsome, I swear.” He whines under you, bucking his hips in an attempt to get you to just focus on the pleasure. Your hands glide down his chest and you pinch at his abused teats that bloom in a red compared to the delicate peach color that they held. “I wish you could see how I saw you, so cute and strong.” You dip down and kiss and nip at a collarbone. “So strong and amazing.” You shake your head against him, tongue spilling out to trace the bone. “Handsome and wonderful-” you brush your nose against the base of his neck- “oh yes you are.” Your hand slides and traces against a scar the curves under his breast and pulls taut against his body. “So precious.”

His hands shake, latching onto your hips, nails that press and leave crescent marks tattooed onto your skin. “I’m go- fuck-” he curses, jerking his hips, pushing cock to the hilt inside of you when you spin your hips on him- “too sensitive,” he mumbles, cock pulsing inside of you. His hand leaves you, ring finger touching where your clit throbs with excitement, eyes fluttering open to look at you. You move above him, bottom lip tucked between teeth only to let go to moan out his name. He can feel your walls clench around him, squishing and fitting around his length as he moves in a rapid motion. He circles your pearl, watching as your breasts bounce, gleaning with sweat, eyes clouded with lust and drool pooling his mouth as he can feel his high approach. “Not going-”

You quiet him with a kiss, tender and fleeting on his lips. He mewls as your cunt slides off, his head inside as it grows hot, groaning and trying to reach for your lips again as you pull away from the kiss. “You’re allowed to, you know?” He narrows his eyes, confusion written over his face. “You’re allowed to love yourself,” you breathe out, stilling above him and playing your hands on his chest, slowly rising and falling on him. “You’re so pretty. So good,” you whine above him, brows furrowing as you sigh, slick slipping past and clicking in the room. “Handsome and lovely- everything about you is perfect- ah!” Your nails scratch against his chest, chest rising and falling as your orgasm edges closer. “I love you Tomura,” you moan, lowering yourself closer to him, your own eyes shining with tears, a twitchy smile gracing your lips as you try to steady yourself on him. “If- if I could- fuck- I’d,” you suck in a harsh breath and lower your head- “kiss your scars, every- every last one of them until you felt better.” A desperate whine trembles past your lips and he can already tell you’re reaching your end, your clit pulses underneath his fingertip, your breathing becoming more ragged and words broken by curses as you rise above him, whimpering with a lovesick look in your eyes. “I love you, Tomura.” Your head tilts and you grab at the hand on your hip and let it drag over the soft pouch of your stomach, grazing past a bouncing breast and letting it rest over your heart. “You’re so handsome. My- My handsome love.”

He sucks in a harsh breath, letting his hand press above your beating heart, sighing and arching his back as the limp in his throat tightens, spriing tears into his already puffy eyes. “I-” he bites his tongue and shakes his head- “I’d let you. I let you do whatever you wanted,” he croaks. His hand stays put at your heart while the other continues to rub at your heat. “You’re amazing.” Words die at his tongue, his hands fading from your body and he steadies himself with a sharp grip at your side, clicking his tongue at how you twist and laugh breathlessly, your hands covering his. Tears flow down his face in gentle rivers, calming and in relief as he can feel you twitch, still and moan his name, muffling it with your palm.

Words of affirmation, words that would repeat your own, die and choke him, wrapping and filling his throat with an indescribable heaviness. Your words continue to spill from your lips, full of grace and adorned with love, stuttering and repeating phrases as the words slowly slur together, his name said in a breathless chant, one that fills the room and drones out all other noise, gasping and whimpering. He cries under you, sniffling and chanting your name while his hands soften and rest on your hips and slide down your thighs and onto the bed, cock spilling his seed deep inside of you, painting you in a warmth that fills your body.

Tomura’s vision goes into a bright, white light- shining and blinding and there’s a hot flame that consumes his body, licks at his limbs and scars, consumes him and leaves him weightless for a second that lasts for eternity. He moans your name, crying and hands that dig into your hips, spilling his seed inside of you, as tears trace down the curve of his face. Eyes roll over, shutting shut, a heavy blush dusting at his cheeks as a loose smile breaks across his face. He twitches and whines, hisses between closed teeth as you move off of him, feeling ejaculate that had dripped from your cunt and coated him, moving down with syrup consistency. He shakes, his skin bumping and on high sensitivity, jaw slack as you kiss his chest, kiss the curve of his neck and finally his lips. He mewls under you, a shameful sound that makes your heart skip and his own jump at the sound.

He lays still, heaving and aching, with heavy knees while you flutter across the room. His eyes flutter close and he calls out to you, a soft whisper of your name that turns louder, growing hoarse with the abuse from his voice. His body is worn, completely spent and every so often, he gives a quick jerk, his body covered in shivers. His hands paw at the bedsheet in gentle scratches, whimpering your name until you come into the room, a towel that drips on the floor held in one hand, while the other hand holds a dry towel.

The bed creaks under your weight, drops of warm water slide down his thigh and wet the bed in small pools. He makes a noise of confusion, leg jerking as the towel is wrapped around his shaft. He sucks in harsh breath, swallowing nervously and shaking his head.

“‘M too sore,” he whimpers, shaking his head. “Not now.” He gives a small wave of his hand, trying to flutter around the towel that sticks pleasantly to his skin.

“I’m just cleaning you,” you say sweetly, drying at the fluids that coat his thighs and slide to the base of his cock. “You’re not in the mod for a shower, right?” He shakes his head no, mumbling out a soft word of exhaustion, a yawn reinforcing his words. “Then let clean you, okay?”

“Can you hold me?” He asks, raising himself on his elbows with a wince. “I’m cold,” he whines.

“Of course.” Your reply is quickly. He lays in silence, his breathing slow and steady, already drifting to sleep as something soft cups at his soft member, fondling it gently and it rests against him, soft and dry. He’s given a pat on his pubic bone, and he smiles softly. “All done,” you mumble.

Once more the bed creaks as you move to place the towels on the sink. You return to him, on his side, an arm extended on your side of the bed. You lay next to him, his face immediately burying onto your chest, lips ghost above your breasts and he sighs, moving his legs so that they rest under yours. Your hands come to thread through his hair, fingers parting and tugging on knots, freeing his hair.

“Feels good,” he mutters, immediately followed by a yawn.

“The petting?” You ask, and he nods in response, letting out a yawn that you mimic moments after. Your hands move to curve on the top of his head, nails lightly scratching at his scalp. He hums into your chest, arms snaking around and pulling you close. He mumbles words, too soft and muted to be understood, his hands trying to mimic your movements but only ending up as a soft dragging of his nails down your skin. You chuckle softly, pressing your nose against the top of his head, lips light on him. You hum and tap against him. “Who’s a pretty boy? Hm?”

He groans and his legs wrap around yours, chest heaving and heart beating against him. “I am,” he mumbles, lips pulling into a thin line that soon stretches against his face in a nervous smile.

“You’re so cute,” you croon, kissing him once more. His face burns against your skin. “Yes, you are,” you coo, voice raising an octave, lips in a soft pout. “You’re the cutest. Cutest villain, cutest boy- the absolute cutest,” you say with a honey sweet tone, pressing kisses against the top of his head, half kisses against his temple keeping him close to you.

“You’re cute,” he mumbles sleepily, eyes close and hands going to a soft limp. “Best thing-” he yawns and shifts on the bed- “to happen to me,” he trails, lips coming together in a pout to softly kiss at your chest. He means every word he says, wants to repeat them until they no longer feel like words- he wants to give you the praise that you just gave to him; will gladly pull himself apart if it meant he could show you how much he loves you. Your touch is safe, makes him feel like nothing could truly harm him. He stays curled next to you, wants to mouth and speak endlessly to you, to praise and love you, to have you cry with tears of joy as you both rest in the same bed. His body is decorated in scars, each with a story, all of them kissed and soothed by your lips and touch. It’s something deeper than love, he figures. He’s only ever felt devotion to someone, but it’s more than that with you. He can never explain it, words could and would never be enough, he wants to show and tell you. He will love you to the point of recreation, will shape the world however you want it to be, as long as you’d smile and kiss him- he’d do so much for only a smile.

Your eyes water and there’s a smile that stretches against your lips, curves and tugs painfully on your cheeks and your throat is tight. Even in sleep, he’s still so cute. Holding himself against you and telling you something so sweet, that you know will only be repeated when he’s particularly vulnerable. You smile and nod to yourself, hands returning to scratch at him. “I love you, Tomura,” you say in a tender voice, quiet and gentle against him. “I love you so much.” Your love registers in his sleeping mind, something soft and warm, three simple words that finally make him feel protected and loved. Your hand pets the top of his head, slowly and in a delicate motion, letting the ends flutter and cascade down his back, watching as the red in face, turns into a lovely shade of pink. You brush your fingertip against his face, swiping at the drying tear stains that shine on his skin, shuffling and pressing your lips against the scars that adorn his face in soft and jagged curves.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #bnha shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura imagine #bnha imagines #i hope you like it!!

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reluctant-mandalore · 3 years

Text

Codywan Week 2021 (Day 1): Fix-It

Mornings after the war are calm and relaxing. Cody enjoys them immensely—especially when he wakes up safety next to his love—but sometimes he can’t help and think about the what ifs of life. Thankfully he has Obi Wan at his side to help ease him away from such worries.

Warnings: no order 66 au, fix it au, let them be happy damn it, Fluff, a bit of angst, cuddling, kissing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, not beta read.

Word Count: 3247

Pairing: Cody x Obi Wan Kenobi

a/n: I found out about codywan week very late, and I know the week has already ended a while ago, but I still wanted to write some fics for it. So in the next few days I’m just gonna be posting what I managed to come up with. Anyway, for the day one prompt ‘fix it’ I decided to do an au where order 66 didnt happen and cody and obi wan are in love. I love my hurt/comfort fics so I decided to feature that a bit too in this. Enjoy!

The early morning light had filtered in through the large window of their room. Its gentle rays warming Cody’s skin, as he had shifted within the soft sheets of their shared bed. He had rolled away from its light—not quite ready to wake up yet—and sought the comfort of his lover by his side. His face quickly nuzzling itself into the man next to him, as a pleased sound had left him at the feeling of a pair of strong arms moving to cradle him in close. There had been a kiss placed onto his forehead then. The other man's beard tickling his skin in the process while Cody himself had only sunk more into his hold.

“Morning darling.”

Obi Wan had managed to get out before yawning quietly to himself. He had placed a few more kisses along Cody’s skin then. Each one leaving a tingling sensation in its wake, and sending a shot of warmth to blossom within him. At one point a soft praise had left Obi Wan among the kisses he had littered over his partner. It had been something about how lovely Cody had looked in the morning light. Though with Cody’s tired state it had barely registered in his mind, and where a snarky reply would usually follow, only a hum had sounded from the sleepy man. He had been more focused on trying to get in a few more winks while snuggled into the Jedi’s hold, and soon he had grumbled out his annoyance at the prospect of getting up for the day.

“It's not morning yet.”

Obi Wan had only chuckled at that, and he allowed a soothing hand to run along the other man's form. The energy he managed to have so early in the morning had been just as bright and awful as it always was when they woke up together. Cody had always found it endearing in a sense, but also irritating as well. “It appears the rising sun disagrees with you, love.”

Another grumble had only left Cody at that, and he buried his face further into the other man's bare chest. Obi Wan had let him lay there for the time being, a soft tune leaving his lips in hums, as he had drawn circles and shapes along his bare skin. Though eventually he would shift on the bed—attempting to remove himself from Cody—only to have him pulled back in before he could ever really leave. Cody could be so clingy in the morning when he wanted to be, and this day appeared to be no different in that regard. He had no intent on letting Obi Wan leave bed so easily it seemed.

“I’m just going to get you some caf.” Obi Wan had assured him, as he continued struggling to untangle himself from Cody clinging to him, barely managing to finally free himself in the end. “I’ll be back in a moment dear. Promise.”

Cody had barely resisted letting out a whine at the loss of contact. His eyes briefly opening to glance up to Obi wan with a frown, before they had closed again at the feeling of another kiss being pressed to his head. It had been brief, and soon the sound of his love leaving could be heard, confirming to him that now he had the room to himself.

Cody laid there for a long moment as he waited for Obi Wan to return. The sweet songs from the birds outside only helping to lull him farther into his exhausted abyss. All while he had enjoyed the comfort of their soft and warm sheets. Completely content to lay there and wait without a care in the whole Galaxy.

He had been on the cusp of sleeping again when Obi Wan had returned. The scent of fresh coffee wafting into the air and making him want to wake so he could have a taste. Though he hadn’t opened his eyes regardless of the desire too. His eyes not even opening when a gentle hand had been placed on his shoulder to try and raise him from his slumber. The soft touch in the end only sending him deeper into the sheets, as he had attempted to avoid having to wake up properly for the day.

“Love you need to get up now.” Obi Wan had said softly. “I made you some caf—just the way you like it.”

A few more gentle promptings from Obi Wan finally had Cody shifting awake. His eyes flicking open to glance towards his partner with a wide frown again. Though that look of his had softened away quickly at the sight of Obi Wan’s own sweet smile. He had sat up slightly after that. Stretching out his back with an audible crack, as he had let out another yawn.

Obi Wan had brought his mug over to him, and Cody had sat more properly on the bed in order to take it from his hands. When passed to him, the jedi had pressed a kiss to the scar on his forehead, and he had felt his skin warm instantly at the gesture. His heart thundering loudly within his chest, as Obi Wan had settled next to him on the bed to take a sip of his own cup. Which Cody had no doubt had been filled with that new tea he had bought for him to try—Obi Wan always seemed to love his tea after all.

Cody didn’t think he could ever get used to mornings together. They were always so affectionate and calming in a way. Sometimes he even wondered if this had all been a dream. A dream where one day he would wake up to find himself alone in his bunk again—alone as a clone commander helplessly in love with his Jedi General.

They had sat there together in a comfortable silence for a moment. Sipping away at their drinks and watching the sun rise in the distance. Cody had found the time of war so far away from his mind now. Though in reality it had only been a few years since everything had officially come to an end.

The plot of the clones and the chips having been discovered had made sure of such a thing. They had Fives to thank for that mainly, and Cody found himself thankful ever since. A quick end to Palpatine had followed afterwards, and an even quicker defeat of what remained of the separatist forces had come after that. There had still been conflict of course—as there always would be in the Galaxy—but it had become rather peaceful as of late.

Then there were the issues with the clones and their purpose. Once the chips were removed and the war had ended, it had become a discussion of what to do with them. The senate had discussed and treated their future as if the clones were mere property that they could do with what they wished. Treating them as if they were just droids for war rather than people with their own thoughts and desires.

Many had seen them that way though. Cody had certainly learned of that fact very quickly when he had left Kamino for the first time. It hadn’t been hard to see how many considered the clones to be nothing but fodder for war rather than for the people that they were.

The Jedi had surprisingly done their best to argue in favour of the clones living out the rest of their lives. They went to senate meetings defending them in hopes of giving the clones a choice.

It had surprised Cody if he was being honest. Sure—arguably they were close to the Jedi to some degree—but even some of them had shown to not care much for the clones. Sometimes he wondered if it was out of some sort of moral code—or even just pity—that had made the Jedi help them. Though other times he couldn’t help but see the bonds that had formed between them all. From friendships—to those who had fallen in love—it was hard to deny the growing connections many clones had made with the Jedi. New attachments brewing around every corner that even the Jedi themselves could not deny.

In the end, everything had pretty much worked out for them. The production of clones for war had ended, and any of those who still lived were finally gaining the rights they should have always had. They could finally have a choice in what they wanted for life. Some of his brothers had chosen to stay with the new reformed republic army, and others had left just as they had always dreamed for in life.

Cody had stayed. Not only because he had wanted to remain close to Obi Wan, but because he wanted to make sure his brothers would retain their rights. He knew people would push back against them, and he would fight for as long as he could to put a stop to their plots.

Obi Wan had been a great help on that end as well. He had helped by setting him up to meet with senators, and would do his best to lend his support when Cody needed a shoulder to lean on. He’d argue and give speeches in long drawn out political meetings. Putting his negotiation skills and charm to good use in the process. They had met some push back of course, but with every step back, they had taken two more forward, and soon it seemed like the clones were finally getting a happy ending.

It had almost seemed too perfect to be true at times, and Cody once again found himself wondering if it were all a mere dream. He thought of all the things that could have happened if they hadn’t put an end to the chips, and in doing so he couldn’t help but reach over to grab onto Obi Wan’s hand. The sudden gesture causing for the other man to look over at him with confusion morphing across his features.

Cody couldn’t help but stare in Obi Wan’s eyes for a long moment. He loved his eyes. They were a shimmering blue, and the light reflecting off of them only made them seem to glow. He could be lost in them for hours if given the chance, and the thought of losing the man he loved had made his heart ache more than he thought possible. And the thought of possibly being the one to cause such a thing had made him feel physically ill.

“Something wrong Cody?” The other had asked quietly. His brows raised in a questioning manner as he brought his cup up to take another sip of his tea. The mug resting before his lips briefly in thought, before he had finally taken another drink of the delicious brew. “You seem to be quite down this morning.”

Cody had merely hummed at first. Deciding to take another sip of his own drink, as he had allowed for the bitter and perfectly sweet liquid to settle over his taste buds. It had been perfect for him. Not too harsh to the taste, but not too sweet either. It was just how he liked it, and just how Obi Wan always made it for him. Perfect and delicious.

“What makes you think that?” He had asked finally, though he was sure he had already known the answer to that question. Obi Wan had always been good at figuring out when something was wrong with him after all.

“Well for one you’ve been staring at me for some time now.” They had both smiled softly at that, though Obi Wan’s next words had brought a small frown to Cody’s lips. “I know I’m pretty to look at, but I’m not that pretty my dear.”

Cody had wanted to argue back against such a claim from the man, but he knew that in doing so he would find his composure unraveling too quickly. So instead he had simply leaned forwards and trailed his free hand up the other man's back. Allowing himself the pleasure of letting his fingers dance along Obi Wan’s spine, and feeling his muscles quiver under his touch. His gentle caress causing for the Jedi to shiver while a dusting of a blush had found itself on his cheeks. Cody soon finding himself wondering just how he had gotten so lucky to have Obi Wan as his partner in life.

“Am I not allowed to just admire you?” He had murmured quietly after some time. His fingers never stopped his exploration of Obi Wan’s skin, as his eyes had done a roam over his form. The need to tease the man for making coffee in nothing but his underwear on the tip of his tongue. Though such a thing never had the chance to leave his lips, as Obi Wan had spoken again before he ever could.

“Oh I never said that, I quite like it when you admire me.” There had been a teasing glint to his voice as he spoke, and the smile he had worn had dripped with a flirtatious shine. It had been a look that Cody had become quite used to over his time with Obi Wan, and it was one that he found both mildly irritating, yet beautiful, all in one. It was just the effect the Jedi had on him he supposed. “But I can tell that something is bothering you, love. I can also feel your unease in the force.”

Cody let out a bitter sigh at that, and had removed his hand from the other man. A frown soon crossing his features as Obi Wan had chuckled at seeing his dismay at the mention of the force. Sometimes he could appreciate the force and all that it had brought, other times he cursed the thing to his very core. The blasted thing always seemed to give away his emotions and feelings to his Jedi. It made hiding things difficult—and though he didn’t want to hide things from his love—there were just some things he had found hard to discuss. His earlier thoughts being one of these dreaded things.

Obi Wan could see Cody’s struggle with himself—and with a worried expression—he had taken his free hand into his own. “Tell me what's wrong Cody. You know I’m always here to listen.”

After the Jedi’s words, Cody had fallen silent again. Carefully playing with Obi Wan’s hand, as he tried to collect his thoughts. In truth, he wanted to talk to him about how he was feeling. He always found that by doing so he felt better about these things. But from years of bottling up his emotions and thoughts he struggled to do so. His protective walls refusing to budge as much as he wished they would. Thankfully, Obi Wan hadn’t seemed to mind. Instead he had simply waited. Giving Cody time to collect himself, as he had sipped at his tea, and let the other man play with his fingers idly.

“I… I was just thinking about what would have happened if we didn’t stop Palptine’s plot in time.” Cody had finally explained. His words tumbling out in waves, as his thoughts had become jumbled again all too quickly. “They said the chips would have stripped us away and made us follow any order they had planned for us. They would have made us… Obi Wan...”

Cody found he couldn’t finish the sentence, though they both knew what he had been talking about. The chips had a list of orders implanted into them. Ones that the clones wouldn’t have been able to resist had they been activated. Order 66 had been one of these set of orders in the chips. It had shocked everyone when they had learned of it, and Cody had personally felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of it.

Obi Wan had gently removed himself and the cup from his hands then, setting both of their mugs on the side table as he did. Soon he had taken Cody’s hands again and brought them up so that he could press a kiss to the back of them. He didn’t say anything as he did this. He didn’t need to really. His blue eyes had held all the meaning and words that they ever needed to in the moment. Their gentle and comforting gaze only helping to relax Cody away from his worries.

Cody would never understand how a simple look from the other man could help ease his pain so quickly—though whether it be the force or the love they shared—he found didn’t care for the meaning as long as it had brought him back to himself.

Tears had formed in Cody’s eyes then, as he had barely held back a sob at the weight of his own thoughts. Obi Wan had been quick to help brush them away as they had fallen. He had practically crumbled into the Jedi’s arms. He couldn’t seem to help himself. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had cried so easily and freely. The thoughts of the horror and pain that those chips could have done—what they could have made the clones do—shattering him to pieces within minutes.

The two of them had stayed there together for a long moment. Cody cradled tightly in his arms, as Obi Wan had soothed him gently. His reassuring words, and soft caresses, helping to lull Cody into a state of ease once more. His earlier tears had dried during this time. The only evidence of their existence being that of the salty trails they had left behind on his cheeks.

“Our drinks are going to get cold.” Cody had mumbled out, though he had made no move to untangle himself from the other man’s hold.

“Maybe, but that’s fine, they can just be reheated.” Obi Wan had let out an amused hum. “Or we could just go to that new café we were thinking of trying.”

Cody couldn’t deny how nice that had sounded. He could already see it now. Him and Obi Wan sitting at one of the little tables with their mugs in hands. He could hear the way that the Jedi would laugh at something silly Cody had said, and they would share one of those delicious looking muffins the place sold. It would be a sweet little date for sure, though Cody found he still didn’t quite have the energy for such a thing. Right now all he had really wanted was to remain snug in Obi Wan’s arms—safe and sound.

Obi Wan had seemed to sense this of course, and soon he pulled Cody in for a sweet kiss. Its gentleness had made Cody practically melt in his hold. An exchange of their love and praises sounding out, as one kiss had turned into many. Each one becoming more desperate and needy the longer they had embraced one another. Only for it to end when the two needed to breathe, as they would find themselves once again looking out to the morning sky together. A feeling of comfort having settled between them just as it had done so earlier.

Cody’s earlier darkened thoughts were now far from his mind as he had sat there with Obi Wan. In the end what could have been didn’t matter. They were safe and together. Loved and cherished by one another. Nothing could take that from them. No pain, or evil plot, could separate them now. They would always have each other—they would always love one another—and Cody found he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Though that never did truly stop him from wondering about what could have been.

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