#it's not that deep but. idk the posts tonight were frustrating. it's whatever

[rotisseries]

you guys do know that we don't have to vote with the reddit whims right? like, that's the point of us having 360k people in this tag and all trying to use collective voting power. and it's one thing if on those "who do we vote out next" polls the majority vote is genuinely the one you most want to see go, but I keep seeing it be like "oh we all need to vote out this one because the redditors will vote for that one next" and then you run a poll like "who are we taking out next" and everyone picks the option you just said the redditors will want out. like then literally what's the point of running that poll. you all already know what the redditors want gone and apparently we suddenly care what they think🙄

idk just. I do get the point in running these polls to make sure everyone knows what everybody else will be voting for so that we can team up, but I think on our preliminary polls you should pick who you genuinely want out maybe and it just doesn't seem like we're even trying to give the other ships we like a chance at this point because if it isn't byler then we have to follow the whims of a website we're not even on apparently!!

[rymndsmth]

for your sake (mason mount)

idk what this even is but it was in drafts so....warnings for angst & sexual themes 

Mason didn’t have to wonder who it was that had his phone lit up, shaking his bedside dresser with each vibration. Instinctually, he threw a hand across to grasp at the area until it was able to get a drip on the device. He held the phone up even though he knew it would nearly blind him at this hour, and just as he was about to slide his thumb across the screen he paused. 

Should he answer your call?

A long and complicated history was the only way to describe what the two of you had. Mason met you almost immediately after you’d moved to London for your studies. He actually literally ran into you on your first day of classes, or rather you into him. After apologizing a mile a minute, throwing your tote back over your shoulder and racing down the street still bellowing a chorus of sorry’s over your shoulder, he found himself smiling like a madman. And then grimacing as he realized he had no way of contacting you. 

Then grinning again. You’d dropped your student ID. 

Though it made him late for training, and boy did his legs suffer from the extra laps, Mason swung by your uni to drop it off. Of course, his presence didn’t go unnoticed by your classmates, and after managing to shoo them away politely, he got your number. 

At first, he wasn’t honest with you. Well, he wasn’t exactly lying but he also wasn’t very forthcoming with the fact that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. His version of casual dating didn’t deviate too far from the real thing. Flowers were frequently sent to your flat, he took you to nice dinners and exclusive parties. And God did he worship your body. 

You were perfect to him. Every inch of your skin had to be carved by some sculptor, from your pretty little mouth that said the filthiest things when he was as deep as he could possibly be inside of you all the way down to those soft, supple legs. Mason couldn’t go more than a day without touching you in some way, he had to have you and he made sure that he got what he wanted. He took, and took, until one day you raised the question. 

What are we doing, Mase? 

When he was unable to give you an answer, even frustrating himself that he couldn’t find one, you’d stormed off. Mason thought sure that it was the end of whatever you had that he had such a hard time trying to figure out. You weren’t his girlfriend, you weren’t some fuck buddy, and you weren’t just a friend. He loved you in a way, but not the way that you deserved. 

The first time you’d called him in the middle of the night, you were in tears. I need you. Nothing else needed to be said. Mason was already in his car, doing way more numbers than he should to get to your place. He held you in his arms that entire night, eyes not neglecting to notice the name of some guy pop up as he texted you more than once. 

That following morning, the sun broke from behind the clouds while you cried out his name. Your lips called out to him in between profanities as you rode him, his strong hand lightly closing around the column of your throat. When you both came down from your highs, he left you with a dizzying kiss. 

Mason didn’t ask you what any of that meant, and you didn’t bother to explain.  

His phone rang again not long after, but this time he was surprised. You had posted a story clearly showing that you’d gone out with some guy. He thought maybe it hadn’t gone well. Either way Mason answered your call, helping you reach your own climax as he coaxed you with his voice alone. He couldn’t not please himself either at your airy moans. 

It continued to go back and forth like this for months. Mason realized then that you were hooked on him, and vice versa. You were both like drugs to one another. The grip that he had on you was more than spellbinding, and you plagued his thoughts even when he was bottoming out in someone else. 

For the first time, tonight, he hesitated. 

That same guy you were on a date with that time had become something more. Mason watched as your relationship progressed with him through your socials. He seemed like a good guy, all of your friends talked him up and interacted with him as well. 

Were you ever going to give that guy a proper chance if he stayed in the picture? Mason didn’t know if it was fair to you if he kept responding to your beckoning. As blissful as those moments of you clinging to him inside and out felt, he still couldn’t give you what he knew you craved. 

You wanted to be in love. You wanted official proclamations, and double dates, and family meetings. Mason couldn’t give that to you. Or rather, he wouldn’t. If he were to be completely honest, those things terrified him and he wasn’t ready to confront all of the reasons why yet. 

So acting out of selflessness and selfishness, Mason let it ring. 

He stared at the phone, fully awake now, unflinchingly as your name stared back at him. The room illuminated for a few more seconds, and then everything around him was dark again. For your good, he told himself. 

For your own good, he repeated the following time. 

For us. 

And you never called again. 

[writingtoforgetreality]

I Remember (Malcolm Bright x Reader)

Request: uM hi saw ur request post while i was scrolling through malcolm bright x reader tag lol so may i request an x reader w malcolm where reader's gil's niece or smth so she and mal know each other before he joined the team- and one day where mal was being a dumbass and reader was told to drive mal home and when she was securing his restraints he jokingly asked her to sing to him aNd she did sing and fell asleep on the bed by opposite mal aND he got a good amount of sleep like no night terrors and next day he accidentally slipped that reader ''slept'' w him and gils just like excuse me wtf?? Djkdkdlsjsjs idk i got this idea when i was staring at the ceiling at 4 am instead of doing my essays that were due in the morningxD sorry its p long. Thanks and have a good day/night (by @iwillboilyourteeth), [Prodigal Son-Masterlist]

Summary: Malcolm got hurt again. What a surprise. And, as always, you were right there to take care of him. Tonight, though, things took a turn. For the better or for the worse? Only the future would tell.

Words: 2,142

Warnings: language, love me some sarcasm, fluff, so much fluff, I love writing for Prodigal Son (keep the requests coming)

Song used: “I Remember” by Jason Manns

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You were sitting in your apartment when your phone started ringing loudly, interrupting your movie marathon. Sighing exaggeratedly, you checked who decided to annoy you at this time. It was not too late but you liked your alone time a lot. Gil. Oh no. That could never be good.

“Uncle Gil. I hope whatever you’re about to tell me is more important than Harry Potter.” pausing the movie you were currently watching, you did not even give him enough time to greet you. A loud sigh could be heard over the phone. One, that made you laugh.

“(Y/N).” his voice was stern & you knew better than to mess with him. Yet, you could not help yourself.

“Yeah, that’s me. You called me, after all.” joking to ease the tension, your giggling was cut short by his next words.

“Malcolm is a dumbass.”

“What a revelation.”

“He’s hurt.” Gil stated. Throwing your head back in frustration, you knew he only called you if he knew it was not too bad. But bad enough to need your help. “I need you to come get him.” it was not even a question, more like an order. Immediately, you grabbed the stuff you needed & headed out of your apartment towards your car.

“Can I yell at him for being reckless?” opening the door, you got inside but before you started the engine, you waited for the call to end. Could not risk getting youself hurt. Malcolm was the stupid one, not you.

“I already did that but I’m sure he’ll appreciate to hear it again.”

“Good.”

“Drive safe.” Gil noted.

“See you in ten.” & with that you drove to the precinct where he would most likely wait for you.

Growing up, you spent a lot of time at Gil’s. Malcolm was there almost always, so you got to meet each other pretty early on. Deep down, you cared for him. More than you should care for a friend. And because of him being a profiler, you were sure he picked up on that as well. Malcolm was just nice enough to not comment on it. Besides, he would tell you that he was too broken anyway. The thing was that it never scared you away. It did the exact opposite, actually. It only made you want him more.

Did you ignore almost every speed limit? Possibly. Your knuckles were white because you had gripped the steering wheel so tightly. One of these days, you would kill Malcolm. He kept getting himself hurt & you were tired of being the one to drive him home afterwards. Of course, you knew Gil only called you because Malcolm trusted you enough but that did not change the fact that you were exhausted.

“What happened?” approaching Gil, your eyes looked around for a sign of Malcolm. “And where the hell is he?”

“Bathroom.” his finger pointed over. “He didn’t call backup & thought dealing with it alone would turn out fine.” Gil was, you could tell, almost as tired as you. Not only of Malcolm acting recklessly but also because of a long day at work.

“What a surprise.” your sarcasm got the best of you. But it helped you coping with your feelings sometimes. “Uncle Gil?” his head snapped up when you said his name.

“Yes?”

“Go home & get some sleep. I got it from here, promise.” your sweet smile was convincing enough & with a nod, he turned around & walked away.

“(Y/N)?” Malcolm noticed you when he walked out of the bathroom. His face was covered in bruised & by the way he was limping, you were sure that his entire body had to be sore. “Where’s Gil?”

“I sent him home.” shrugging as if it were nothing, you gave Malcolm a look. He knew what it meant but apparently, he wanted to play dumb.

“What?” his head tilted slightly & if it were not for his damn puppy eyes & for the fact that he was hurt, you would be the cause of his bruises. Not quite literally but still. Rolling your eyes at him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

“You’re stupid, I hope you know that.”

“I do, but we caught the killer, so it was worth it.” he casually stated.

“Is it really worth risking your life, Mal?” shaking your head shortly, you were not in the mood to discuss this any further. A simple gesture of your hand was enough to show him that you wanted to get going. “Come on, I’m gonna bring you home.”

“You’re mad.” Malcolm noted when the both of you walked outside back to your car. Sighing loudly, you stopped for a brief moment.

“Yes. I’m mad because I can’t even count how many times we’ve been in this exact situation anymore. And it sucks. Because every single time Gil calls me, I think he’ll tell me that you didn’t make it out like you always do.” Malcolm’s eyes widened when you explained how you were feeling. Your body brushing past his made him turn around & follow you without another word. It was silent between you two until you arrived inside Malcolm’s apartment.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” he spoke up, his voice much softer now. When you saw him struggling to pull off his coat, you walked over to him to help him out.

“You don’t owe me an apology, Mal.” your back faced him when you went to put his jacket away.

“I do. You always take care of me when shit like that happens. And I wanted you to know that I don’t take that for granted. If I were you, I would’ve stopped caring a long time ago.”

“You know as much as I do that this won’t ever happen.” & it was true. Malcolm could mess up over & over again. Could get himself hurt & all that. But you would always be here to catch him, no matter what.

“I don’t deserve you.” his eyes bore into yours & by the look he gave you, you knew he was not talking about you taking care of him when he was hurt. He was referring to you as a person. Basically, he wanted to make you understand that he was not worthy of your love. Which was bullshit to you.

“You deserve so much & it hurts that you don’t see it.” the conversation dropped for the time being. Navigating your way through his apartment, you looked for something he could wear to bed. Soon enough, you found something suitable & when you walked back into the room ,you found Malcolm already sitting on his bed, head hanging low. He stopped you when he noticed your hands grabbing the shirt he was wearing. Sending him a confused look, your eyebrows raised in question.

“I think I can handle it from here on.” taking the clothes from you, he went to strip himself out of his workwear. Surprisingly, he could not move his body enough to achieve anything.

“Yeah, I can see that. Come on, don’t act like that, Malcolm.” it was not the first time you had helped him undressing. As mentioned earlier, the two of you had been in this situation too many times to count.

It did not take long & he was wearing comfortable clothes. After asking if he needed anything else, you went straight to his restraints & helped strapping him in. It amazed Malcolm how you were not weirded out by the fact that he had to be held down in order to have at least a few hours of sleep.

“(Y/N)?” his voice was barely above a whisper but your humming let him know that you heard him. “Can you sing something for me?” it was meant to be a joke, he simply wanted to ease the tension between you guys. Thinking about it for a second, you came to the conclusion that it would not hurt to do that. Maybe it would help him fall asleep? Malcolm eyes widened when you actually started singing quietly. It was soothing & he closed his eyes to focus solely on your voice.

Hey you, when I saw you walk in there

And I couldn’t help but stare

At the way you move your hands

‘Cause it’s the little things you do that drive me crazy

And now, let’s forget about the crowd

And just concentrate on us

So that you can know what I want you to know

 I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

 Only if you would hold me tight

As we talked all through the night

About those things you won’t tell no one else

I know that we’ve got long ways to go

But I want you to know

That I’ll be there till the end, so don’t you worry

 I remember how it started

You had everything I wanted

I was helpless to resist

But I didn’t want to

‘Cause I fell in love with you-ou-ou

 After you finished, Malcolm still had his eyes closed, he just laid there for a while, recalling the words of the song. He knew what you were trying to tell him but if he had to be honest, he was scared. If the two of you were to try something, he thought you would leave him the moment you realized his demons were too much for someone to handle. Malcolm did not hear you leave his apartment, neither did he feel a movement. Opening his eyes slowly, he found you sound asleep right next to him. Your peaceful form made him smile brightly. Contemplating if he should wake you up, he decided against it in the end. Deep down, he knew you would not judge him he if he had a night terror next to you. And if he were honest, having you with him made him incredibly calm. That night, he fell asleep almost immediately, without any nightmares invading his dreams. The reason for it was you. Only you.

Malcolm woke up early the next morning. Work called. Okay, maybe Gild had told him to take a few days off but everyone who knew Malcolm, knew that he did not listen to such orders. Or any orders, in general. You were still asleep when he loosened his restraints. He left you a note behind before leaving his apartment for work.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay at home?” Gil questioned the second Malcolm entered the office where the rest of the team was already up & working.

“You did but I’m fine.” Gil rolled his eyes at his words. Usually, whenever Malcolm insisted on being fine, he was everything but. Examining his face closer, Gil was shocked to see him so…well rested?

“Wait. How much did you sleep last night? You look unusually awake.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s because I slept with (Y/N) last night.” Malcolm spoke casually & went to examine the pictures that were displayed on the table in the middle of the room. Gil’s eyebrows raised at that. Dani only sent him a weird look & JT almost choked on his coffee at Malcolm’s confession. There were some things he did not want to know & his love life was one of it.

“Excuse me, what now?” Gil was the first one to press the topic further. Everyone knew how protective he could get when it came to you, his niece. When Malcolm turned around, he found three pairs of eyes looking sternly at him. Wait, what did he say? Realization washed over his face & he only now noticed how wrong his words sounded without any given context.

“No, wait…That came out wrong.” closing his eyes briefly, he prepared an explanation for his confused co-workers. “(Y/N) drove me home yesterday & she helped me with my restraints & all. She fell asleep & I didn’t wanna wake her up.” Malcolm’s hands gestured wildly, not wanting to give them the wrong impression of last night’s events. JT pretended to understand what he explained even though he had no idea & frankly, he did not care too much. Malcolm had lost Dani’s interest a while ago, she continued working on the next case. Only Gil was left. He gave Malcolm a knowing look, went over to him & patted him on the shoulder.

“You better take care of her, Bright. Or you have to deal with me.” his threatening smile creeped Malcolm out but he knew Gil was only trying to keep you safe. Maybe you were the right one for him. Last night was proof enough. It was scary to take that next step but on the other hand, he wanted to take that risk. He wanted to give it a try. For the both of you.

Published (04/20/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @octopus5555 (thanks for your support <3)

[harryspet]

wrapped in red | p.parker & b.barnes

[Warnings] dark? peter parker x reader, dark bucky barnes x reader, peter is still pretty sweet and bucky is evil, aged up peter, mafia/gang au, gang boss!bucky, waitress!reader, noncon/dubcon sex, light bondage, kidnapping, bucky likes to watch 

A/N: idk its 7 am and I still haven’t slept and now I’m posting this. THIS IS ADULT & TRIGGERING CONTENT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which Peter likes you and Bucky makes you both regret that. 

main masterlist

word count: 2.9k

“Can I get you anything else, sir?” You asked the blue-eyed man sitting at table eighteen. Your coworker had an emergency call so you found yourself tasked with tending to the table of two men. You didn’t recognize the man at first but as your eyes connected with his left arm … your breathing hitched in your throat. You smiled through your worry though, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that you knew exactly who he was. 

Bucky Barnes ran this neighborhood, but since you had never run into him, it was easy to believe he was just a myth. 

“No, doll. Just the check please,” He spoke simply and you might not have been intimidated if you hadn’t noted the many expensive rings on his right hand. The man sitting across from him was younger, his eyes were nervous too as he looked you over. His face was familiar and you thought you might have seen him in one of your classes. 

There were several empty beers on the table as well 

You nodded your head before turning away, “I’ll be right back.”

Peter’s eyes lingered on you as you walked away from the table. For a moment, he forgot that he was supposed to be counting. His pen roamed over the sheet and over all the numbers. 

“See, you’re only making a hundred grand from this guy's shipments. He’s using all your resources to make sure the product is clean but you could easily just do that for yourself. You cut out in the middle man and I think you could triple your profit,” Peter turned the paper so Bucky could look over all the numbers he was running. Peter folded his hands, trying to read the man’s expressions. 

As you returned to the table with the check, Peter was once again caught in the trance you put in. He recognized you from his anatomy class. He arrived at class five minutes early every day just to make sure that he could watch you come in. Part of him was unsure of what you’d think of him now, knowing who he was sitting with. 

Money didn’t grow on trees and Peter was the man of the house. College was expensive and the rent was even more expensive so he had to do what he could to get by. You were working minimum wage at a rundown restaurant, Peter didn’t doubt that you could understand that. Still, what you did was honest work and Peter couldn’t say the same for himself. 

“Thank you, doll,” Bucky thanked you, resting his arms against the table as he smirked up at you, “You doing something tonight? What time do you get off?”

Your lips parted as you stared in shock. Could you just answer a simple no? “I actually have to close up today … so I … uhm-”

“I-It’s okay,” Peter rushed out nervously, seeing the way that Bucky was eyeing you, “That’s it, thank you.”

Your smile was thin and awkward before you walked away. 

Peter’s eyes widened with frustration as he stared across the table at the older man, “What are you doing?” Bucky chuckled as he grabbed the check, clicking his pin in order to sign it. Peter didn’t know it but the man was leaving you a hefty tip, “Were you trying to scare her?”

“I was trying to get you a date!” Bucky retorted, “Your good with numbers, kid, and I appreciate you helping me out. I really do but your game with women is a little laughable.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief, “Why does it matter?” Peter lowered his voice as the realization set in that Bucky was right, “Why does it matter what kind of game I have? I’m just here to count your money, right?”

The look in Bucky’s eyes was almost sympathetic, “You count money for now but you’re strong, I can tell. You could become a very valuable person to me if you work at it. And part of being in my little family is having some fucking confidence. You were drooling over that girl instead of manning up and asking her out.”

Peter crossed his arms, “What if she said no?”

Bucky smirked at the younger boy, “She wouldn’t if you had some fucking balls,” Peter rolled his eyes, “But if she did said no … then you chase her. That’s the best part.”

There was something evil in the man's glare but Peter brushed it out. The man was a professional, drug dealing murderer. “You want to ask her to prom or something?”

Peter shook his head, annoyed, “I’m not in high school, Mr. Barnes. I just like her, okay? And it doesn’t matter that I like her because it’s not like we can date. I’m sure we both have bigger things to focus on. Now ... can we go back to talking about the deal that’s going on tomorrow?”

Bucky seemed amused by the kid’s awkwardness, “I like your idea. I hate that Brock guy anyways. He’s overcharging me because I used to mess with his sister. You know … maybe if he’s out of the picture then his sister is free territory.”

“Out of the picture how?” Bucky sensed Peter’s worry and grinned. 

“That’s right, you’ve never been on one of my infamous boat rides. You should come,” Peter knew exactly what he meant. If Bucky didn’t like you, you did not want to go on a “boat ride” with him. That was a quick and easy way for your body to end up chained to a brick at the bottom of the Hudson. 

“I have a biology project to work on,” Peter said.

“It wasn’t a question, Queens.”

+

Your heart skipped a beat as a black Escalade pulled up beside you while you were walking home. You didn’t look over as you heard the window roll down. You winced as you continued to walk. You only turned to look as you heard a whistle. 

You thought he’d give up after the weird encounter at the restaurant but here he was in all his handsome and dangerous glory, “You need a ride, doll?”

“Uhm, no. But thank you!”

What was it with kids your age? Perhaps Bucky was losing some of his edginess with the younger crowd, “Get in,” Bucky said, much more forward this time, “I just want to talk.”

You took a deep breath as you clutched your purse tightly. You found your feet moving before your mind could catch up. Your body thought you’d be safer going with him rather than arguing with the famous criminal. You heard the rumors about people that went missing because they pissed him off. Every time they seemed to arrest him, he was back on the streets weeks later. The cops, ones who he didn’t pay off, could never pin him to any of the murders. 

If you went missing because of Bucky Barnes, you and your legacy were effectively wiped away. 

He opened the back door for you and you climbed into the leather seat as he slid over. Shaking, you grabbed your seat belt and buckled yourself in. Bucky was used to the lack of eye contact and shaky fingers. It usually annoyed him but, for you, he found it endearing. 

As the door closed, the man in the front seat drove off, “What exactly do you want to talk to me about?” You asked, still confused about the entire situation. 

“My friend that sat at the table with me. Peter Parker,” Bucky spoke vaguely. 

“We don’t really know each other,” You explained, hoping that guy wasn’t somehow in trouble with Bucky, “We just go to the same college.”

“No, I know,” Bucky continued, “I just know that he’s interested in getting to know you better. And Peter’s a good friend of mine, you know?”

You nodded slowly. That meant Peter was dangerous, “Right. He’s … he’s never talked to me.”

Bucky chuckled, “He’s the shy type. You’re a pretty girl, he probably doesn’t think he’s good enough. That’s why I’m here talking to you.”

“What do you want me to do?” You asked hesitantly.

“That’s a good response,” Bucky gave you a smug look, “You’ll find out soon, doll. Sit tight.”

Your eyes widened as you looked out the tinted window, watching your apartment building pass by. Bucky’s driver gazed at you through the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road. 

+

Peter thought he wouldn’t be able to stomach. Watching a grown man cry and beg for his life before being tossed over the edge. You watched him sink and the bubbles slowly start to disappear as he went deeper, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bucky had said to him.

Peter hated to say that it wasn’t as bad as he believed it would be. Perhaps the years of struggling had blackened his heart. After the murder, Bucky proceeded to drag you back to his million-dollar apartment, wanting to share a drink or to. 

Peter almost opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t twenty-one yet but knew the exact reaction he would get from Bucky. Bucky had his arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder as he showed him to the kitchen, “One day, you’re going to have a place just like this,” He said, hinting at your luxurious surroundings, “You stick with me and you won’t need that piece of shit degree.”

Peter only nodded, accepting a beer from the man. Bucky watched as the boy chugged the content of his glass. Peter hoped it would get him through the rest of the night and help give him some liquid courage, “You’re a weird kid, Queens,” Bucky laughed, “I like it. C’mere, I want to show you something.”

You followed Bucky down the hallway, hoping it wasn’t another disturbing thing that the man found amusing, “What is it?”

“A present,” Bucky grinned, guiding Peter to the door at the end of the hallway. Peter would’ve preferred to be wowed by a million other things. Instead, his mouth was agape because he saw you. 

Whatever drugs he had given you to keep you relaxed had completely worn off. It kept you from fighting them when your clothes were cut off from your body. Your vision was blurry and your muscles were weak as they restrained your body. Now, clear as day you could see your captor … and his friend Peter. 

You were laid out on the bed, your hands handcuffed behind your back and your ankles tied together by a red ribbon. A red thong barely covered your lower region and a red ribbon wrapped around your front barely covered your nipples. Right in the middle of your chest was a red bow to compliment the red ball gag in your mouth. 

Peter flashed Bucky a mortified look. Bucky only sipped at his glass of beer, “Happy fucking birthday, kid,” Bucky beamed, “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”

It wasn’t Peter’s birthday and he was definitely not feeling thankful. Peter watched as you struggled in your bondage, frightened tears staining your cheeks. “What the hell are you doing?” Peter asked, his teeth gritted in anger, “I-I didn’t ask you to do this.”

“What?” Bucky sounded offended, “It’s creative! Think of it as a welcoming gift. I know you want to fuck her so here’s your chance. Fuck her and get rid of her-”

Get rid of you?

Bucky was interrupted by a muffled scream which only caused him to roll his eyes, “Or fuck her and keep her, I don’t care.”

“No, no, I’m letting her go-” Before Peter could take a step forward, Bucky’s metal arm gripped his shoulder. 

You felt relieved only for a moment.  Bucky stepped in front of him, “I’ll fuck her then, no point in letting the opportunity go to waste.”

Peter’s heart stopped, “Mr. Barnes, please.”

“You do it or I will,” Bucky said firmly, “You’re smart and I want to keep you around but if you can’t … take a few fun risks then maybe you’re not the type of person that should work for me.” Bucky’s words settled over him. Peter thought about losing this opportunity and all the money that would come along with it. Looking into your teary eyes, Peter thought about how rough Bucky would be with you. Maybe he could explain that … Peter mentally cursed. 

Peter didn’t answer verbally, only pushed past Bucky, walking towards the bed. Peter felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as he stalked towards the bed, “That’s my boy,” Bucky spoke excitedly. He moved towards a lounge chair in the corner of the room, still taking swigs of his drink, “There’s no point in asking. If you want it, take it. Now put on a good show for your dear boss.”

Peter knew there was no going back now. He reached out to touch your arm, only to have you flinch away from his touch. Peter had imagined touching you for the first time and it was nothing like this. Peter turned that sadness to anger in order to fuel his adrenaline. 

Peter undid the ribbon around your ankles first. As soon as they were free, you were struggling against him. Peter was much stronger than you assumed and held you in place easily. Next, he moved to your gag, “Pl-Please don’t hurt me,” You begged, your voice hoarse. 

You saw something in his eyes similar to regret. Regret for the inevitable. As you shook your head, he said, “I won’t. Just … just don’t struggle,” He tried to assure you but as he moved your body over the edge of the bed, parting your legs and settling between them, you panicked again.

“Peter, please don’t.” He perked up at the sound of his name on your lips and you thought for a moment that you had gotten to him. He paused for a moment, only for a moment, before lifting his shirt above his head. He leaned his body over yours, his mouth brushing over your ear.

“Trust me, you don’t want him touching you. Just relax,” A shiver ran down your spine and you turned your head. Your scared eyes connected with Bucky’s and he smirked. It seemed the two of you were his sick entertainment for tonight. Your breathing was heavy but you tried to keep your muscles calm. 

You tried to convince yourself that Peter was the better option. He was your age and he didn’t have that evil look in his eyes. You hated that you preferred him. You hated that you were preferring this. 

Peter placed soft kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck. It baffled you that you got the feeling that he wanted to be gentle with you. You were ready to jump out of your skin when you felt your panties being moved to the side but you were interrupted by Peter’s lips crashing onto yours. 

Soon, you felt him at your entrance, teasing your opening. You gasped against his lips as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you. You wanted him away but you still found that your legs wrapped around him for support. 

Peter moved his lips against yours and you felt his own body shudder as your warmness wrapped around his length. He started to move in and out of you and it took you time to get used to the invading feeling. As Peter kissed your tear-stained cheeks, you bit down on your bottom lip. His pace quickened and wished desperately that your hands weren’t handcuffed behind you. 

“Y/N,” He grunted into your ear as he made long, deep strokes inside of you, “Fuck, I’m sorry… y-you feel so good.”

As he pushed deep inside of you, your head tilted back and a frustrated moan escaped from your throat. You hated that he was making you feel good too. You felt his hand running up your thigh  and then it was between your leg, slowly rubbing that sensitive bulb between your legs. That was enough to have you moving your hips against him. 

Bucky watched intently, the blood rushing to that area between his legs. He’d keep you in mind when he was deep inside Brock’s sister. 

“Ah, ah,” Peter kissed you, swallowing your moans as you both climaxed together. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Peter was supposed to finally gather the courage to ask for your number towards the end of the semester. You were supposed to text back and forth for a few weeks and then go on a few dates. You were supposed to fall for each other the natural way. 

Bucky had stolen all that. 

As Peter pulled up his pants, zipping them up, Bucky stood from his chair, “That was moving. Very romantic,” By his tone, Peter could tell the man was hoping for something for brutal. Peter scowled at his boss, “I knew deep down you were a ladies man-”

Peter interrupted, venom in his tone, “What do you want me to do now?”

Bucky only chuckled, “Nothing like some emotional trauma to toughen someone up,” He patted Peter’s shoulder as he made his way to the door, “Why don’t you buy her dinner and then take her home? You can take my car.”

“That’s fucking it? After all that?”

Bucky turned his head as his hand grabbed a hold of the doorknob, “She knows what’ll happen if she runs to the cops. Welcome to the team, Parker.”

+

hope you enjoyed!!

[hangovercurse]

Once a Month

Colson doesn’t understand why you’re acting so strange, so you have to explain that your monthly visitor has arrived.

Request: “Hi, I love your writing! If you want to write something like that, I have a suggestion: Not to be mean but I think Colson can be really dumb/ignorant about stuff that doesn’t concern him. Idk maybe hes in a relationship with the reader and doesn’t understand stuff that comes with being a women, either period stuff or body hair stuff idk? And he hurts her with commenting about it without noticing? And please fluff in the end where he gets educated”

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, fighting, talking about periods, a single sexual reference

A/N: I don’t know how this got so long...

Word Count: 2945

Having a vagina really fucking sucks sometimes. Specifically, for one week a month, when your body decided it needed to bleed out of said vagina for a whole week. No period was easy, and yours was no exception. But getting your period while living in a house with a bunch of guys, who all had dicks, was a nightmare. It seemed like no one knew what you were going through physically and emotionally. You had been on Depo-Provera since you met Colson, so you had never been on your period around him. But your doctor decided to take you off of it because your bone mineral content was getting too low. So here you were, 6 months later, and getting your first period post- birth control.

You had a more hormonal period, meaning you were constantly jumping from one mood to another. Today was your third day, and you wanted to rip your uterus out. You were sitting on the couch, curled up next to Colson as a movie played on the TV. Your cramps were killing you, so you weren’t really paying attention to anything that was happening.

You heard someone say something about a club, and you assumed they were suggesting going to a club, even though they went last night, and the night before, and the night before. And normally you would be down for clubbing with your boyfriend and your friends, but today the stabbing pain in your abdomen told you “no,” just as it had for the past few days.

All the guys had agreed, their eyes landing on you and waiting for a response. “Uh, I’m not really feeling it tonight, guys.”

Colson rolled his eyes, “you haven’t been feeling it all week.” He complained and you frowned.

“I just don’t want to go tonight.” You mumbled, a little angry that he would start an argument in front of all the guys.

“Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?” He complained, the arm that was previously wrapped around you pulled away. “You’ve been in a shitty mood all week, it’s fucking annoying.”

You bit your lip, feeling tears biting at your eyes. You weren’t sure if you were upset or angry, or both. But you knew it wouldn’t be pretty to keep this conversation going. “Whatever, have fun.” You scoffed, the anger taking over. You rolled your eyes and stood up, walking to yours and Colson’s shared bedroom. You made it just past the doorway when the tears started rolling down your face.

You closed the door behind you and shut the light off before trying to muffle your cries with the sleeve of Colson’s shirt that you were wearing. You laid down on the bed, facing away from the door in an almost fetal position. The tears didn’t stop, and all you could focus on was Colson’s anger towards you. Why couldn’t you just be a good girlfriend and go with him? Why did you have to be a buzzkill?

You heard the garage open and shut, signaling that the group had left for the club. He’s probably going to find a girl to hook up with tonight. Your brain told you, making you cry even harder.

And then you felt guilty for thinking that. Wow, you really think so low of Colson that you think he’d cheat on you. You really are the world’s worst girlfriend.

Every thought spiraled into another, until you decided to watch TV to distract yourself. It worked pretty well, your period head being happy from the dopamine you got while watching The Good Place. But, like all good things, your happy mood came to an end when you heard the garage door open hours later.

You looked at your phone, realizing it was already 3am. You had hoped to be asleep when Colson got home, but you hadn’t managed to drift off to sleep, probably because you’d taken a nap at 2pm earlier. You sighed, preparing for the mess that was about to come through the door.

And like you had summoned him; Colson came stumbling through the door of your bedroom. “Why are you still awake?” He grumbled, stripping his shirt off.

You shrugged, pausing Chidi’s rant about the ethics of truth. “Couldn’t sleep.” Colson sat on the edge of his side of the bed, tattooed back facing you, typing on his phone. The smell of alcohol and weed coming from him made you feel queasy. “You should take a shower.”

Colson stood back up, throwing his phone on the nightstand, and taking off his jeans. “I’ll take one in the morning.” You shut the TV off, laying down fully in the bed to face your boyfriend. He pulled the comforter back, climbing into the bed beside you and pulling you into his arms.

You pushed him away, the smell even worse now. Colson tsked at you, glaring at you as you scrunched your nose up in disgust. “What the fuck is your problem?” You rolled onto your side, your back facing him. “Is this because I called you a buzzkill earlier? It’s not that serious.” He rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see him, and flipped onto his back.

“It’s not but thanks for bringing it up.” You mumbled, still turned away from him. Your mind wandered back to the conversation earlier in the evening, and you got upset about it all over again.

Colson sighed, his hands moving to rub his face. “Then please, tell me what I did this time.” He sat up, flicking on the lamp beside him to light up the room. You groaned, burying your head into your pillow.

“You just smell.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He mumbled to himself, but you still heard it, “You’re mad at me because I smell?”

You let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m not mad at you, I just can’t stand the smell of you right now. It’s making me sick.” You could feel his temper rising even though you couldn’t see him. The feeling made you want to cry.

“Seriously, Y/N? What the fuck is up with you lately? You’ve been acting like a bitch all week.” Now that did make you cry. You sat up, grabbing your pillow and your phone and standing up, walking towards the door. “Where are you going?” Colson asked, more annoyed then concerned.

Colson couldn’t see your face, but he could hear your sniffle as you opened the closet and pulled down an extra blanket. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” You continued your trek to the door, pausing as your hand touched the handle, “Sorry for being such a shitty girlfriend.” You muttered, opening the door and leaving the room.

You threw the pillow onto the couch, laying down and pulling the blanket over you.  Your hand came up to your mouth as you muffled your sobs again, hoping no one else in the house could hear you. Colson sat in his bed, staring at the door that you just left through with a confused expression. You’d gotten into worse fights before and you hadn’t cried then, what was so different now?

He threw his head back onto the bed, a frustrated groan leaving his mouth. He was in no state to convince you back to bed, and he knew you wouldn’t listen to him anyways, so he turned the lamp off and tried to go to sleep.

 You woke up at 7 the next morning due to your cramps feeling like someone was stabbing you from inside your body. You knew you wouldn’t go back to sleep, and the pain was intense, but the only anti-inflammatory medication in the house was in yours and Colson’s bathroom, which meant you would have to go through the room to get it. And you were very determined to not go in there, assuming he was probably still mad at you. You didn’t think you could handle him yelling at you again.

But after an hour and a half of trying to distract yourself with your phone, you felt like you were gonna throw up if you didn’t take any meds. So, you dragged yourself off the couch, walking into the kitchen to grab a piece of bread (don’t take anti-inflammatories on an empty stomach y’all) and shoving it in your mouth. It wasn’t the best thing in the world to eat at 8:30 in the morning, but it would be enough to prevent the Aspirin from fucking up your stomach.

You shuffled to your room, hesitantly reaching for the door handle. You knew Colson would be asleep, but you were still shaking with anxiety. Taking a deep breath, you slowly opened the door, relaxing a bit when you saw your boyfriend sleeping. You stepped lightly, trying to be as quiet as possible as you crossed the room to the bathroom.

Once in the tiled room you shuffled through the drawers, trying to find the bottle that would magically relieve your pain. You frowned as you pulled open the fourth drawer, still not finding the bottle. You were sure you had a bottle in here somewhere.

“Babe?” Shit. Colson’s morning voice called from the bed. You peaked your head out of the bathroom, his eyes finding yours.

“Sorry, I’m just looking for the Aspirin.” You said quietly, moving back into the bathroom to continue your search.

“It’s in here.” Of course it’s in there, why wouldn’t it be in there?

You trudged out of the bathroom, finding the bottle in his hands. You flashed him a small smile, grabbing the bottle from his hands. Any thoughts of last night momentarily left your mind as you poured two tablets into your hand. “Everything okay?” Colson sat up, watching as you moved towards your side of the bed.

“Yeah.” You said, walking to your nightstand to grab the water that you keep there. You swallowed the pills, looking at Colson’s concerned face. “I’m fine, just cramps.”

Looking at his face made your heart fall. Even when you two were fighting he was worried about you. “Can we talk about last night?” You asked, realizing you needed to address your argument. Colson nodded, reaching to pull you onto the bed. You loved morning Colson; he was very cuddly.

You happily moved into his arms, your chest pressed against his back, his arms around your middle, and head resting against yours. “I’m sorry I got so upset.” You mumbled. “My hormones are making me an emotional wreck. I forgot how bad they could get.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking down at you. There was concern in his eyes, but a lot of confusion.

You tilted your head, realizing he hadn’t pieced things together. “You know, my period hormones.” He furrowed his eyebrows and you laughed softly. “Oh my god have you never experienced this with a girl?”

He frowned, “No. I thought your birth control stopped your periods?”

“Yeah, but remember I had to stop taking it a few months ago? It’s finally fully out of my system.”

He nodded, “Wait so what does your period have to do with hormones?”

You tilted your head back so your crown fell against his chest as you tried not to laugh. “You know how people always ask a girl if she’s on her period when she gets really mad or upset?” Colson nodded, his eyes trained on you, listening attentively. “Well, its because when you get your period, for the last few days leading up to it and the first few days you’re on it, certain hormone levels are low. So, you’re really sensitive emotionally. The levels raise throughout your cycle, so you get less irritable after the first few days, but its still not necessarily fun.”

“So, when I complained about you not wanting to go out…”

“I got really upset. I mean I would’ve gotten upset either way, but I probably would’ve brushed it off normally.” You laced your fingers through his. “And the reason I didn’t want to go out was because I could barely stand up, much less go out and party.”

“Wait actually?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

You chuckled a little at his childlike wonder of your period. “Yeah, even if I take medicine my cramps kill me. And I’m either really tired or really awake most of the time.”

“Where are your cramps?” He asked, and you moved his hands towards your lower stomach. “Here?” You nodded, and he started massaging the area softly, easing some of the pain. “Is that helpful or does it make it worse?” He asked.

You hummed, “very helpful.” He continued his motions and you kept explaining. “Heat also helps. I used to have a hot water bottle but I got rid of it since I wasn’t getting my periods anymore. And I haven’t felt good enough to go to the store and get another.”

He kissed the skin behind your ear, resting his head there. “You should’ve told me, babe. I would’ve gotten you one.” You shrugged, smiling at his worry. “I wouldn’t’ve been such a dick, too.” He mumbled.

You turned your body to face him, wrapping your hands around his neck, “you didn’t know, babe. It’s okay. But maybe you shouldn’t be a dick even when I’m not on my period.” You gave him a wide, sarcastic smile.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He whispered, a frown on his face. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Is there anything else I should know about your period?”

“I get really bad cravings, like chocolate, candy, salty food, literally anything. And it’s always random.”

He pecked your lips, “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and resting your forehead against his.

“Oh, and we can’t have sex.” He pulled away from you, a confused look on his face. “Babe, I’m bleeding out of my vagina. It would be really really gross.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things, right?” He tilted his head, smirking.

“Don’t ask me to blow you while I’m on my period. If I want to, I’ll tell you.” You giggled. “Seriously, this shit sucks.”

“You’re telling me.” He chuckled and you slapped his chest lightly. “I’m kidding.” He pulled you closer to him so your head was pressed against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat and it made you smile. “Whatever you need, just tell me and I’ll do it.” He mumbled; lips pressed against your hair.

You looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You could take a shower?” You asked sweetly.

He laughed, “was that a period thing too?”

You nodded, “yeah I get sick really easily. I can’t go in a car unless I’m driving because I get too nauseous. Some smells can set me off too.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey, just promise me one thing?” You looked up at him, urging him to continue. “Next time something’s wrong, tell me, please? I know you’re my soulmate and everything but I can’t read your mind.”

Your eyes widened when he said that, cheeks turning red. “You really think that?” You asked in awe.

“Of course I think that. You’re literally my perfect half. You get along with all my friends, you take care of Casie like she’s your own kid, you put up with all of my shit. I dunno, I just feel like we were made for each other.” You leaned up, pulling him in for a long, sweet kiss.

“I am so in love with you.” You whisper as you pulled away. “Like so so so in love with you.” You smiled.

He kissed you again, a smile on his face. “Oh, one more thing.” He said, and you hummed in response. “Next time we have a fight, don’t walk out on me, please? I don’t want us to go to sleep mad at each other.”

You nodded, moving your arms to take his hands in yours. “I won’t. I promise.” You whispered. “Can you promise me something?” You looked up at him, his eyes entrancing yours. “If we are fighting, can we not do it in front of our friends?”

He nodded, kissing you once more. “Promise.”

“Do you have plans today?” You asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Can we stay in bed and cuddle all day?” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and he broke out into a smile.

He nodded, “We can do whatever you want to do, sweetheart.” You smiled, practically tackling him back onto the bed so you were laying down, you clinging to him like a Koala bear. “I’ll send Irv and Baze to the store in a while for you.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling into his neck. “I would complain that you should do it yourself, but that would require you leaving me, and that’s not happening anytime soon.” Colson opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “except for you taking a shower. I have not forgotten.”

“Damn.”

You giggled, sticking to his chest as he sat up, trying to get out of bed. “You say you want me to shower but you’re making it impossible to get out of bed.”

“You have to be nice to me, I’m on my period.” You smiled up at him.

He shook his head, chuckling. “Fine, I guess I’ll just bring you into the shower with me.”

“I’m not complaining. But I’m just warning you I’m bloated as hell right now.”

“And yet you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

[geminioriginalsimagines]

Birthday Boy

Requests: “Soo idk why I thought of this (maybe cuz of the posts of DG turning 41) but how about a shower sex smut with Elijah? Or even a birthday sex where it's Elijahs bday? Hmm... If you're feeling it then you can choose which scenario 😋😎🤗” “Riding Elijah smut?” (Credits to gif owners!) Warning! Visual smut ahead!(REPOST!!! Was a Visual Smut but edited.)

"Y/N, my love?" A hint of confusion laced in Elijah's voice. What he didn't know was that you were upset to find out his birthday was today. Klaus had hinted at it and then when you found out, you couldn't help but be a little offended. Elijah always spoiled you for your birthday, and he never told you when his was. Probably because he knew you'd go full out and he didn't ever ask for anything special. What a party pooper, to not even want to go out for drinks? Or a dinner?

His voice was getting closer and closer to your bedroom. You sat across your bed, fixing the lace cupping your breasts and resting your chin in your hand, kicking your feet up behind you and crossing your legs. "Sweetheart you haven't answered my texts." It was always like him to worry about you. "Forgive me, baby. But I don't recall doing anything-" He opened the door and quickly looked away, you caught the big bad original off guard. "Wrong." He finished his statement weakly.

His eyes never left your body, the way you pushed yourself off of the bed and let your hair fall over your shoulders. The way you walked at him until your chest was flushed against his. "I'm not angry, but a little disappointed." But he had no idea what you were getting at. There was no way he had forgotten his own birthday, was there? "How come you didn't tell me it was your birthday? Elijah we could have had dinner or went to see a movie-" Your fingers walked up his chest.

He watched and then averted his attention to your eyes. "I never celebrate. It must have never come about." Your hand slowly wrapped around his tie, tugging him down a few notches so he was eye level with you. "Y/N-" His hand grabbed your hip, but your hand wrapped in his tie, now he wasn't leaving. He saw the evil and smoky look in your eye and held himself together. His hand on your hip was starting to get hot, he had an urge to throw you down and take you. Just because he was dominant and you trying to have dominance over him always drove him crazy.

"Well then why don't we 'celebrate' a little?" You licked your lips and then pulled his face closer, licking a stripe from his jaw to his temple. Elijah's face was red, flustered and he looked almost shy. But you knew he wasn't shy. He was trying not to fuck you up the wall and wait and see what you had in store for him. But that was the thing, you didn't have anything planned because you figured he'd want to do whatever he could to you.

Without any other noises, words, anything...you dropped to your knees. Elijah wiped his mouth and watched with his hands covering his cheeks. You skimmed your hand across the front of his dress pants, teasing the soon to be hard flesh underneath. You smiled up at him as innocently as you could but God only knows you aren't innocent especially when it came to Elijah. "I figured I'd let you have me for your big day. Just to remind you how much of a gift I am to you."

"Your confidence can make a man intimidated, Y/N." His hands now behind his back. You laughed a bit and played with his belt, now undone and hanging loosely off of his hips. Your hand skimmed the front of his pants again, this time squeezing your fingers around the thick flesh. Elijah fixed his stance so he could balance better and get a better view of you below him.

Now his pants were in a puddle at his feet and at your knees. You wrapped both hands around his length and pumped him, a soft rhythm that you knew he always enjoyed. Sensual and gentle, just enough to draw soft moans out of him and to watch his chest rise and fall. Which was exactly how he reacted and sent warmth straight between your legs. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and heard Elijah moan at the sight.

"Why don't you do something instead of looking pretty?" This was completely out of character for Elijah but whatever it was, you loved it. And even took a chance at him, pushing yourself off of the ground and leaving him to the bed by his tie. You collected his hands in yours when he attempted to hold them and shoved him backwards. He bounced but regained himself, shrugging his jacket off. He helped pull you across his lap, holding your thighs and watching you unbutton his shirt and brush it off of the bed.

You positioned yourself over his lap, playing with his cock. You teased your folds with the tip at first, and then circling your clit with it. You couldn't hold back your smile when Elijah parted his legs further, as if to throw you off balance so you'd give in. But you didn't. He released a hoarse groan when you pretended you were going to sink down on him but lifted yourself again. And Elijah's growing frustration was evident.

Once more you wriggled your hips downward, pressing the tip of his cock through your folds and then pulling yourself up. Elijah sat up, one strong arm wrapped around your waist and the other pulling you down around him despite not being ready to adjust quite yet. Your hands slapped to his shoulders and a look of shock washed over your face. "Damn it Elijah-" Your figure shook slightly in his arms.

"Mmm, but I bet it feels wonderful doesn't it?" He wiped hair out of your eyes and then tightened his arm around your hip, using his other hand to hold the both of you up. His arm pushed at your hips, urging you to move. Your nails digging into his shoulders but he didn't seem to mind at all. You closed your eyes and buried your face in his neck, your heavy breaths the only thing you could hear.

Elijah was now guiding you in a rushed and hurried motion. The rhythm was rough and anything but passionate. You used him as leverage to push down around him as fast as you could, experimenting with circling your hips and thrusting quickly back and forth. An unexpected moan tumbled from your parted lips and it was loud. Louder than you expected it to be. And it must have caught Elijah off guard because he flinched and then moaned with you.

He took this as an opportunity to take your bottom lip in his mouth, biting down and hearing your whimpers. It was like music to his ears, something he could listen to all day. His arm still guiding you. You could feel your body start to shake and a spot deep within starting to ache, your orgasm was following along swiftly.

Elijah wouldn't let it happen. If you knew him well enough he'd make you hold it, and then you'd have to wait until he was almost there and then cum together. Especially if it was his birthday he might have something like that planned, something intimate.

"Elijah." You whimpered, he took your bottom lip between his teeth again. You tilted your head back, a cry sounding throughout the room while Elijah had freed you, trailing his lips down your neck and to your chest. His mouth latched onto your right nipple, your hand coming up from his shoulder to the back of his head. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and aided him in moving back and forth from each breast.

While keeping the same rhythm, you shoved Elijah backwards and planted one hand on his chest. The other sat on his thigh. He groaned at the sudden change in position but he had a full view of what was going on between your legs. Which ultimately turned him on more if that was even possible.

You bit your lip and moaned, your eyes closed softly and wiping hair out of your face when it fell. Your toes curled, the ache returning and for some reason you couldn't hold it off much longer. But you didn't think about that, you wanted to make Elijah feel good on his special day and you figured you were doing just that when he grabbed your hips and played with the flesh beneath his fingers.

"Elijah-" You whimpered down at him, your smokey eyes showing nothing but lust for him. His thumbs pressed into your hip bones, inching closer and closer to your clit. "Elijah-" You chanted again. He knew where you wanted him and he wouldn't give it to you. "Please." You shuddered but Elijah refused.

Without another word, Elijah held you close, pulling you down onto his chest where you whimpered into him. Muffled sounds, heavy breathing, moaning. You dug your nails into his arms, holding onto him as he did you. You were thankful he assisted you by thrusting up at you, holding you down and doing work for himself.

You were tired and your head was foggy and clouded. You needed your release badly. Elijah couldn't get over how you felt, gripping him, wet, moaning his name. He grunted and you felt his muscles start to strain under your hands, Elijah was never really big on making noise but tonight was a whole different story because for some reason you had done something different and he was feeling good.

His grunts in your ear turned you on more, spurring you closer to your orgasm. Elijah kissed you, he wouldn't let you go until you finished but now you were lacking oxygen from the surprise kiss. You rolled your eyes into the back of your head and came above him. You shuddered and felt as if you'd fall apart, but his strong arms were holding you together. Elijah's orgasm came soon after, moaning into the kiss and then your hands started roaming as did his.

"Definitely the most intense." You whispered down to him. You refused to move, you felt warm and comfortable, also sore from the rhythm you moved at. And you didn't want to move. Not until Elijah rolled you over, straddling your waist and smiling down at you. "What?" You laughed with him.

"You forget its my birthday, I don't believe I'm finished with you quite yet. I'm getting used to celebrating." He kissed you once more before trailing his lips down your stomach and finishing you off for the rest of the night.

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 26

This is it: the last chapter of BTOOT 😭 

I wrote a long, sappy post about what this means to me *months* ago when I thought we would finish much sooner than we did (whoops), so I won’t get into all that again. However, I will say that this is a huge accomplishment for me because I have never finished a multi-part fic until now. But I didn’t do it on my own. I absolutely could not have completed this in the time that I did without @hotyeehawman, and BTOOT absolutely would not be the fic that it is without her. So thank you so much, Lauren. We wrote a whole ass 123,419-word, 228-page mf’in fanfiction novel in less than a year 😳

And, at the risk of sounding cheesy AF, we couldn’t have done it without you all, either. The response to this little wrasslin’ fic consistently blows us away. SO THANK YOU. It means more than words can say. So once you finish reading this last chapter, please come scream at me in your tags, in the comments, in my asks, in my DMs. Because I cannot wait to hear your thoughts.

Alright, enough of that 🤧 I’ll let you get to reading 😉

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 26/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC, Matt Jackson x OFC x Cash Wheeler, Adam Page x himself

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: Language; MAJOR angst

Catch up on previous parts here.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @comeasyoudar @heelchampbucks @bec0m @betsy-bradock @linziland13 @gabbynorth98 @exe-darbyallin-exe @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @kingswitchblade

Callie pulled her phone out of her purse to check the time again. 8:57 a.m. She put it back and glanced anxiously around the hotel lobby. She and Cash had agreed to meet there at nine to head to Orlando, and with each passing minute she worried that it would be Matt who stepped out of the elevator instead.

Their conversation had played on a nonstop loop in her head all night. This all happened way too fast. Yeah, I guess it did. Over and over again. Except, in her head, it didn’t end the way it had last night. Instead of Matt walking off she called out to him to wait. She told him that the reason she’d been avoiding him was because she felt guilty about how much she enjoyed being with him. Her brain told her it was wrong, but her heart told her otherwise, and because she didn’t know how to reconcile the two it was easier to just avoid the issue all together.

And that’s exactly what she was doing now: avoiding the issue by going to Orlando with Cash. And she wasn’t just going for the day—she was staying the night at his place.

It had been Cash’s suggestion that she spend the night. It’ll save me a round trip, he’d said via text. It made sense; they both had to be back in Jacksonville for Dynamite tomorrow, so there was no point in making Cash drive four extra hours tonight. So, Callie had agreed.

But, deep down, she knew she’d mostly agreed because it helped her avoid Matt that much more.

She pulled out her phone again, but rather than check the time she opened the camera and flipped it to face toward her. Her double black eyes had worsened from last night, turning an ugly bluish color, but thankfully some full-coverage concealer had made them barely noticeable. Even so, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her face. The last thing she needed was people thinking she was a battered woman.

The elevator dinged, and Callie’s chest constricted as the doors slid open. Mercifully, it was Cash.

“You ready?” he asked as he moved toward her. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

She nodded and jumped up from her seat. “Mhm,” she said as she grabbed her suitcase. She couldn’t leave the hotel fast enough.

* * * * * * * * * *

The drive to Orlando was mostly quiet. Cash had asked her if there was anything in particular she wanted to do or see, but she’d just told him she was up for whatever. She knew absolutely nothing about Orlando outside of the fact that Disney World and Universal Studios were there and the little bit she’d seen when she’d stayed with Britt. But Cash didn’t seem bothered by her apparent lack of enthusiasm; he’d just grinned and said, “I got you.” It made Callie’s stomach flutter.

They dropped off their bags at his place and she met his English bulldog, Pawla, before they set off for their first stop of the day. Cash seemed excited as he steered his truck into a parking lot in front of a large complex. Callie, however, was more than just a little confused when she saw what it was.

“Go-karts?”

She hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed, but Cash just let out a laugh. “What? You don’t like go-karts?”

She didn’t answer, looking skeptically out the window at the building. For whatever reason, it made her think of Alex. Go-karts seemed more her speed. She frowned. I wonder if he took her here, too.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Cash said. “I think you could use the adrenaline boost.”

“I can think of better ways to get an adrenaline boost.”

As soon as she said it, Callie wished she could take it back. It had just slipped out, implication and all. She looked hesitantly at Cash. He was smirking.

“I’m sure you can,” he returned. Callie felt her cheeks burn hot behind her sunglasses.

“Come on,” he repeated as he unbuckled his seat belt. “I’ll let you pick where we go to lunch afterward.”

He got out of the truck, and Callie drew in a deep, calming breath through her nose as she did the same.

Maybe avoiding Matt wasn’t the only reason she’d decided to stay overnight in Orlando.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex still hadn’t gotten over what had happened at the Labor Day party. In a word, she felt awful. She wanted to text Callie and apologize again, but between nearly breaking her nose and all but telling her to stay away from Matt, she doubted she wanted to hear from her. So, in hopes of boosting her mood, she’d decided to sit out by Kenny’s pool and soak up the last vestiges of summer while she still could.

But, so far, it hadn’t worked.

Her phone chirped next to her on the lounger, and she picked it up and unlocked the screen. She had a text from Trent.

Hey loser. You have plans today?

She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at her lips as she typed back. Not really. Why?

She hit “send,” but instead of setting the phone back down she opened up Instagram. She clicked on Jay White’s story and let it autoplay through a couple more people before it unexpectedly came to Cash’s story. It was a Boomerang video of an indoor go-kart track. Alex recognized it; he’d taken her there one of the first weekends she’d stayed with him in Orlando.

A banner appeared at the top of her screen with Trent’s reply. Because Sam is in town if you want to come hang out.

That caught her off-guard. Sam, the boys’ friend who she’d first met five years ago. Alex had had no idea she was going to be in Jacksonville. Had one of them told her and it’d slipped her mind? But she didn’t think too much of it as she opened the text and sent her response.

Idk. After yesterday I kind of just feel like being a hermit today.

She went back to Instagram and refreshed the page—and her eyes widened at the first picture that popped up.

Callie, a bright smile on her face as she posed in a helmet at the very same indoor go-kart track from Cash’s story.

“Are you shitting me?”

“There you are.”

Alex nearly dropped her phone on her face at the sound of Kenny’s voice. He gave her an amused look. “You alright?”

“Yeah…” she started. But she thought better of it and huffed, “No.”

Kenny cocked his head in concern as he sat down on the edge of the lounger next to her. “What’s wrong?”

Alex let out a sound that was half sigh, half groan. The last thing she wanted to do was to complain to Kenny about Callie and Cash, of all people. But if she couldn’t talk to him about it, who could she? “I’m just frustrated with the whole Callie situation,” she breathed.

She glanced at him from underneath the bill of her baseball cap. He frowned sympathetically at her. “I know, baby. But you didn’t hit her on purpose. If she doesn’t believe that it’s her problem.”

“It’s not just that,” she interjected. “According to Instagram she’s in Orlando with Cash right now.”

His brow furrowed in confusion when she said that. Alex knew exactly what he was thinking. “I don’t give two shits about Cash,” she assured him. “He can do whatever and whoever he wants. Honestly, I expect bullshit like this from him. But I don’t get where Callie’s head is at. Where the hell does she get off blaming me for ruining her relationship with Adam while she’s off driving fucking go-karts with the guy who stabbed him in the back? It hasn’t even been two weeks since she left him!”

“Because it’s what Callie does,” Kenny blithely returned. “She thinks she’s blameless in everything and doesn’t take accountability for anything. This isn’t the first time she’s shown you that’s exactly the kind of person she is.”

“But we were friends, Kenny! Somehow, we got over all the bullshit and became friends, and then fucking Adam…”

She trailed off, her voice growing thick with emotion, and looked to the ceiling. She didn’t want to get upset. But it was hard not to. She felt betrayed. That was the only word for it.

“Hey.” Kenny put a hand on her bare leg, drawing her eyes back to his. “Do you want my honest advice?”

She nodded.

“Stop wasting your energy on Callie and Adam. They’re not worth it, Alex. You’ve given them so much of your time and effort and what have you gotten in return?”

A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye and she quickly wiped it away. She didn’t need to answer him. They both knew the answer. “I know,” she softly agreed. “You’re probably right.”

A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Of course I am.” He leaned over and kissed the side of her head. “I was thinking about ordering sushi for dinner tonight. That always makes you feel better.”

She perked up a bit at that. “Can we get sake, too?”

He nodded. “Yes, I’ll get you sake, too.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

He gave her leg an affectionate squeeze and stood. “Well, I’m gonna go get a workout in. Wanna join me?”

Alex couldn’t help herself. “Is that a euphemism?”

He grinned. “No, despite how much I want to take that bikini off you right now.”

She just playfully rolled her eyes in response.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Endorphins will make you feel better, too.”

Alex emitted a dramatic groan as she put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. “Not if you try to kill me like you did last time,” she argued.

“But I always take good care of you afterward,” he said. “That was a euphemism, by the way.”

She returned his smirk. “Yeah, I got it.”

* * * * * * * * * * 

To Cash’s credit, the go-karts had been fun—but Callie was more than happy to take the lead on the rest of the day. She’d picked out a restaurant on International Drive for lunch (Cash had groaned and said that was where all the tourists went, to which she’d cheekily replied that she was a tourist), and afterward he’d convinced her to ride the Ferris wheel at ICON Park, where he’d pointed out some of the different areas of the city to her (Callie, who was afraid of heights, had kept a death grip on his arm the entire time). Then, at Callie’s request, they’d driven around some of the neighborhoods so that she could get a better feel for them (“Obviously, I recommend my neighborhood,” Cash had said). Overall, it had turned out to be a good day after all, and Orlando was looking more and more like the place Callie wanted to move.

But, the more time she spent with him, the more she started to wonder how much of that feeling was due to Cash.

“What’re you craving?” he asked as they sat on the couch in his living room.

“You pick,” she returned. Pawla lounged between them, and she reached down to scratch her behind the ears. “I’m honestly still stuffed from lunch.”

“Chinese it is,” he decided, and he pulled out his phone to order. Callie did the same, but to open up Instagram—and she found that Alex was the first person in her stories queue. She stared at the little circle of her profile picture, hesitant. But she was too nosy not to look, so she angled her phone screen away from Cash and clicked.

There were only two pictures in her story. The first showed her in sweat-drenched workout gear lying face-down on a gym room floor with the caption, “@/kennyomegamanx tried to kill me again.” The second was of her smiling in satisfaction in front of a takeout container of sushi. “He made up for it,” the caption read.

“I guess Alex and Kenny aren’t hiding their relationship anymore.”

She froze and glanced at Cash out of the corner of her eye. That was the second time that day she’s put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “They’re probably the last two people you want to hear about.”

But Cash shook his head. “I don’t care. They can have each other.”

Callie frowned. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he spoke up again before she could.

“Do you prefer beef and broccoli or chicken?”

She thought for a second. “Beef.”

A few more clicks and he finished putting in the order. “It says it’ll be here in thirty-five minutes,” he said as he stood from the couch. “You want a drink? I have a bottle of The Rock’s tequila, it’s really good.”

Callie’s nose scrunched up. “Do you have vodka?”

“Yeah. You want it on the rocks or mixed?”

“Mixed please.”

He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Callie occupied herself with petting Pawla until he returned with their drinks a few minutes later. “Here you go; vanilla vodka and Coke Zero.”

“Oo, that sounds good,” she said as he handed her the cocktail. She took a sip. He’d made it just right, not too much vodka, not too little.

“So, what’d you think of Orlando?” he asked as he sat back down. “Did I convince you to become my neighbor?”

His choice of words made her stomach flutter again. “I think so. There’s more to do here than in Jacksonville, and a two-hour drive to work is a lot better than a cross-country flight.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I like it. Dax is planning on moving back to Asheville, but I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s grown on me. Plus, I like Disney and Universal Studios too much.”

“Yeah, I definitely want to check those out,” she returned.

“We should plan a weekend,” he smirked. Callie took a sip of her drink to hide her blush.

They fell into silence, and they both turned their attention to the random show Cash had put on the television. But there was something hanging in the air; Callie could feel it. She was about to speak up when Cash beat her to it.

“So, we’ve avoided the topic all day, but I kind of feel like I have to ask now.”

There was no need for him to clarify what he meant. “Matt?” she guessed.

He nodded. She shifted in her seat. “What about him?”

“Well… are you two not together?”

He sounded almost hopeful. She hesitated to respond.

“That was the rumor backstage,” he added.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course it was. But I guess, yeah, at one point it was moving in that direction. But… I actually told him last night that I think we rushed into things.”

“Oh,” Cash said. It was obvious that he expected her to continue, but her confusion over Matt was the last thing Callie wanted to get into right now. So, she deflected.

“There’s something I need to ask you, too.”

Cash arched his eyebrows as he raised his glass to his lips. “That doesn’t sound good,” he joked.

But Callie wasn’t joking. “Why’d you do what you did to Adam?”

He paused to cock his head at her. “What do you mean?”

She shot him a flat look as he took a sip of his drink. “I mean when you stabbed him in the back, Cash.”

Cash made a noise as he swallowed down the tequila. “Damn, not pulling any punches, huh?”

“You didn’t with Adam.”

He looked back at her in surprise. She didn’t waiver. He breathed out again.

“Alright, look,” he started. “I don’t have anything against Adam. I’ve known him a long time. But he and Kenny had what we wanted, and we did what we had to do to get it.”

She rolled her eyes again. That was such a canned response.

“What?”

“You did not have to do what you did,” she returned. “You didn’t have to manipulate him the way you did.”

His eyebrows arched. “Manipulate him? Callie, all we did was point out that Kenny and the Bucks don’t give two shits about him. He did the rest himself.”

“What?”

“I swear.”

“So you didn’t tell him to sabotage Matt and Nick in the gauntlet match?”

“No! He did that because he was upset about you and Matt!”

Callie’s brow puckered in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He told us at the hotel bar that night that he found out right before the gauntlet match that you were staying with Matt in California, so he retaliated by sabotaging their title shot. Dax and I didn’t have anything to do with that, I promise you.”

The room grew silent as his words sunk in, stunning her. That was exactly what Alex had surmised when Matt had confronted her immediately after the gauntlet match. But Callie hadn’t wanted to believe it, and after FTR had turned on Adam she’d assumed that they’d been the ones to put the idea in his head.

But if Cash was telling her that they hadn’t, then it meant she really was to blame.

“Hey,” Cash softly beckoned. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to make it sound like it was. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Callie stared down into her drink, tapping her fingernails on the glass. She appreciated the sentiment, but she didn’t agree. Not really. “Well, technically I walked out him, so…”

She trailed off and took a long drink. She felt like such a bitch. I shouldn’t be here.

“And?” Cash returned, drawing her out of her thoughts. “I’m sure you had good reason to.”

Callie didn’t answer right away, nearly draining her drink. Once she’d had enough, she looked down at Pawla and scratched her head again. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she said.

“Done,” he said, and she sent him a tight, grateful smile. “So what do you wanna do? Watch a movie?”

She nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. I just have one request.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Anything but Mean Girls.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Matt arrived at Daily’s Place on Wednesday, he had half a mind to go to Tony and tell him to cancel the mixed tag match. He had no desire to wrestle a match with Callie anymore. To be frank, he didn’t want much of anything to do with her at the moment.

He knew she’d been in Orlando with Cash yesterday. He’d seen her Instagram photo at the go-kart track and hadn’t thought much of it. But not long after, Kenny had texted him.

Hey, did you know Callie is in Orlando with Cash right now?

It had caught him completely off-guard. No? he’d responded. Who told you that?  

He’d been more on-edge than he cared to admit while he’d awaited Kenny’s reply. Alex. I guess they posted photos from the same place on Instagram or something.

A quick search for Cash’s Instagram profile—Matt didn’t follow that asshole—had confirmed the claim to be true. It wasn’t a photo, but a Boomerang video on his story that gave it away. It was unmistakably the same indoor go-kart track from Callie’s picture.

I just thought you should know, Kenny had followed up. Matt hadn’t responded. He’d tried to put it out of his mind ever since, but he couldn’t. He kept going back to what Callie had said to him the last time he’d seen her.

This all happened way too fast.

He didn’t disagree; they had moved fast. But what confused him was that Callie had been the one to set the pace, not him. He’d thought she’d wanted everything that had happened between them.

But the way she was acting now made him feel like nothing more than a regret.

“Matt.”

“Hm.” He looked up from his phone at Brandon. He, Nick, and Kenny all stared expectantly at him from across the EVP room.

“Do you want me to film the mixed tag match for BTE?” Brandon asked. His tone that conveyed he was repeating himself. Matt obviously hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Oh, no. Sorry,” he replied, and he looked back down at his phone. He saw the three of them exchange a wary glance out of his peripheral vision. Thankfully, they just left it alone.

“Alright, I’m starving,” Nick announced as he stood from his seat. “You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Brandon agreed.

“No,” Kenny wearily returned. “I got that interview with JR.”

There was a pause. And then, “Matt?”

He looked up again, this time at his brother. He shook his head. “No. I’m not hungry.”

Nick let out a breath. “Alright,” he said, and he and Brandon went out the door, leaving Matt and Kenny alone. The silence in the room was deafening. But it didn’t last long.

“Have you talked to Callie at all?” Kenny asked. “About the match,” he quickly clarified.

Matt shook his head again. “No. I haven’t talked to her period. Not since Monday.”

There was another beat of uncomfortable silence. Again, Kenny was the one to break it. “Look, about yesterday. I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t,” Matt abruptly cut him off. He knew exactly what he was going to say, and he didn’t want to hear it. “I’m glad you told me. Let’s just leave it at that.”

He raised his palms in surrender. “Fine,” he said, and Matt hoped that really was the end of it.

But then Kenny added, “But I think you owe Alex an apology.”

“What?” Matt cut his eyes at him in disbelief. “For what?”

“Oh, come on, you know exactly for what. For the whole reason the mixed tag match is happening in the first place.”

That confused him even more. “The mixed tag match is happening because Trent can’t mind his fucking business.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Oh, okay,” he sarcastically returned.

“What?”

“You called Alex a slut, Matt!” Kenny burst. “That’s what led to the mixed tag match! You accused her of putting Hangman up to sabotaging your title shot and you called her a slut for being involved with both me and Cash. But where was Callie yesterday? In Orlando with Cash, even though she’s apparently with you. So yeah, I think you owe Alex an apology.”

Matt sat back, physically stung by Kenny’s words. They hurt because there was more than just a grain of truth in them. But, at the moment, he was too stubborn to hear it. “Oh, so Callie’s the slut now? Is that what you’re saying?”

Kenny expelled an exasperated breath. “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“It sure fucking sounds like it is.”

“I’m saying she’s making you look like a fucking idiot.”

They were thrown into silence again, their arguing replaced with quiet, palpable hostility as they sat opposed on either end of the room. Matt’s eyes turned dark. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not from his best friend.

“Fuck you, Kenny,” he spat. He stood and stalked toward the door, and as he gripped the handle he turned back, a cutting remark on the tip of his tongue. But in a moment of clarity, he decided it was better left unsaid. The shoe was on the other foot now. So he just went out the door, suddenly glad that he did have a match. He needed to hit something.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Are you guys going out for Jim’s match?”

Alex glanced across the locker room at Trent, looking for him to answer Chuck’s question. He met her gaze before responding.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “We’ll probably stay back here and focus on our match.”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah. I wish it wasn’t mixed tag rules. I’d like to see Alex hand Matt his ass.”

“Oh, she doesn’t even need to touch him to do that,” Trent returned. “Didn’t he train Callie?”

Alex knew he was asking her, but she didn’t look up as she rummaged through her suitcase. “I think so.”

Trent smirked. “So then kicking Callie’s ass will be kicking Matt’s by proxy,” he said. Chuck blinked at him.

“Wow, you actually used that correctly.”

He sucked his teeth. “Fuck off. I know big words.”

“‘Proxy’ is a five-letter word.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Spell it.”

“Are you serious?”

Alex smirked to herself and let them continue to argue while she grabbed the top to her gear and a pair of joggers and went into the bathroom to change. Truth be told, she didn’t want to talk or even think about the match against Callie and Matt. It was a complete one-eighty from a week ago—she’d been aching to kick Matt’s ass then. But now, she just wished the entire situation would go away.

She finished changing and returned to the main area of the locker room. Chuck was still challenging Trent to spell different words. “I’m going to hair and makeup,” she announced over them.

“What gear are you wearing?” Trent asked.

She turned to face him as she pulled on her zip-up hoodie. Her top was a sparkly dark silver-purple with black trim. “This gear. Why?”

“Because we should try to match. I knew I should have brought the gear from Fyter Fest…” he trailed off as he dug through his things and pulled out his dark gray tights with the blue and pink designs. “Do these work?”

Alex gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, those work. I’ll ask Stella to do a blue and pink eye look,” she said, and she went out the door.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get ten steps before she ran into Adam.

He slowed to a stop when he saw her. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she returned, and her brow puckered with concern as she looked him over. He had his ubiquitous glass of whiskey in hand, but he at least looked better than he had when she’d seen him at the hotel on Sunday. “Going somewhere?”

He looked confused at that. “No… why?”

She awkwardly fidgeted with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Well, you just look dressed for TV and I didn’t see you on the card tonight. I wasn’t even sure you were here.”

Adam hadn’t said a single word to her since she’d texted him to ask if he was going to the Labor Day party. But she hadn’t said a single word to him since then, either. Because the more she’d thought about it, the more she’d realized how right Kenny was. It was exhausting putting so much effort into a friendship where she wasn’t getting the same effort in return.

“Oh,” Adam regretfully said as he looked down at his pale blue button-up. “Yeah, I just had an interview with Schiavone.”

“Oh,” Alex repeated. “About—”

“Where I go from here,” he interjected. “I said I was still open to tagging with Kenny if he was.”

He laughed wryly to himself and took a sip of his drink. Alex frowned and looked away. Kenny was not open to tagging with him again; she knew that for a fact. But judging by the look on Adam’s face, deep down he knew that, too.

“Where are you headed?”

She looked back up at him. “Oh, hair and makeup. For the match tonight.”

Realization dawned in his eyes. And then, sadness and hurt. “Oh, right. You have the mixed tag against Matt and Callie.”

“Yeah.” Alex fidgeted and glanced away again. She couldn’t bear the look on his face. But then she wondered: did he know that Callie had been in Orlando with Cash yesterday? Should she tell him?

No, she quickly decided. It’s not your place or responsibility.

“Well, I should get over there,” she said, gesturing in the direction of hair and makeup.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded as she started walking. “Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks,” she said, and she turned and hurried off as quickly as she could.

* * * * * * * * * *

In the years since she’d started wrestling, Callie had never felt as much of an outcast as she did now. As soon as she’d arrived at the arena with Cash, she’d realized she had nowhere to go. The EVP room was out of the question, and she didn’t want to go back to sharing a dressing room with Britt—she was the one who’d blabbed her business all over Daily’s Place to begin with. Cash had offered for her to share with him and Dax, but she’d turned him down; she could only imagine the rumors that would start if people noticed her sharing a locker room with FTR. No, she needed to keep a low-profile, and so she’d found an empty room away from everyone else. Now, she sat in one of the lounges watching the show as she awaited her match, alone.

Orange Cassidy had just beaten Angelico with the Orange Punch. Callie had expected Best Friends and Alex to be at ringside for the match, but they weren’t. She looked away from the TV and down at her phone as Bryce Remsburg raised Orange’s arm in victory, but a commotion a moment later redrew her attention. Santana and Ortiz had attacked Orange from behind. The assault didn’t last long, however, as Chuck and Trent ran out and chased them off like a pair of guard dogs. Callie couldn’t help but roll her eyes as Trent angrily paced the ring, shirtless in his skinny jeans. She sincerely hoped Matt would get a quick pin on him in their match.

Chuck grabbed a mike to speak, but Callie’s phone buzzed in her hands and she looked down at the screen. It was a text from Cash.

Are you free? I need a favor.

Her pulse picked up a bit as she unlocked her phone to respond. Yeah… what’s up? she typed back and hit “send.” She watched as the typing bubble appeared and, soon after, his answer.

Don’t laugh. I can’t decide on a shirt.

Despite his request, Callie couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. But she couldn’t blame him too much; FTR was having an in-ring celebration in honor of their championship victory at All Out that night. He probably wanted to look his best.

Usual room? she asked as she stood to leave.

Usual room, he replied, and she headed off in the direction of FTR’s dressing room.

The door was slightly open when she arrived, and she knocked to announce herself before she let herself in. Cash stood alone in the middle of the room in a pair of dark navy slacks and socks, shirtless. Callie’s mouth went suddenly dry as he looked over at her.

“Okay, I can’t decide between these two.” He motioned to a pair of dress shirts hung up in the cubby behind him—one white with tiny blue dots, the other with a subtle blue and white checkered pattern. She walked over and pulled them both out of the cubby so that she could hold them up next to him. He smirked at her as she studied them. She did her best to ignore it.

“This one,” she decided, handing him the checkered shirt. But she frowned as she returned the white shirt to its place. “Are those the only dress shoes you have?” she asked, nodding at the pair of black square-toed loafers on the floor.

“Yeah…” Cash slowly returned. “Why? Is something wrong with them?”

It took every fiber of Callie’s being not to blurt out with, “Yes, they’re hideous.” Instead, she said, “Just brown would look better with navy, is all.”    

“Oh,” he realized. “I guess I should have asked your advice before we left this morning.”

She smirked. “Is that all you needed?”

“Yeah, thanks,” he answered as he pulled on the shirt. Callie watched as he fastened the buttons, and she realized she was staring. She fidgeted and looked awkwardly away, but Cash didn’t seem to notice. “Are you ready for your match?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Physically, yes. Mentally… not at all.”

He snorted. “Make Matt do all the work. He’s the one who dragged you into this.”

Callie anxiously bit her lip. He wasn’t wrong; of the four of them in the mixed tag, she was the only one who hadn’t been present when the match was made. But even so, she couldn’t do that to Matt. “No, I don’t want to do that. And besides, Matt didn’t ask for the match, either—Trent did. All because he didn’t like Matt mouthing off about Alex.”

Cash rolled his eyes as he tucked his shirt into his pants. “That doesn’t surprise me. I think he has a thing for her.”

She scoffed. “You think he does? Please, it’s obvious he does,” she said. And then she muttered, “It seems like everyone has a thing for her.”

“Not me,” Cash abruptly announced. “I’ve moved on.”

Callie looked up at him, but he turned away to grab his suit jacket. She wondered if he had more to say—it felt like he had more to say—but before she could ask the door to the locker room opened and Dax walked in. He halted when he saw her.

“Oh, hey, Callie. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He glanced between her and Cash. They both quickly shook their heads. “No, I just asked her to come help me pick out a shirt,” Cash said.

“Ah,” Dax nodded. Callie didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. It was her cue to go.

“Well, I’ll go so you can get dressed,” she said to Dax as she started to leave.

“Good luck if I don’t see you before your match,” Cash returned, and she gave him a tight smile and went out the door.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex’s hands were clammy as she stood at Gorilla with Trent. The mixed tag match was next. Unfortunately, it was right after FTR’s joke of a tag team championship celebration. She did her best to tune out Dax’s egotistical blathering as she rolled her neck and loosened up. She needed to focus. A match was a match, and even though she wasn’t looking forward to this one, she still wanted to do her best.

“You ready for this?” Trent asked.

She looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?” she meaningfully returned. She still couldn’t believe that he and Chuck had challenged Santana and Ortiz to a parking lot brawl next week. On top of worrying that they’d murder each other, she was concerned that Trent’s focus was no longer on their match.

“Yes,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about me.”

Alex smirked. “Man, have I got bad news for you next week.”

He gave her a crooked smile; but then his eye was drawn to a spot just past her shoulder. She turned to look. Matt and Callie had arrived.

Trent scoffed. “They don’t match at all. Losers.”

Normally, Alex would have laughed. But it was obvious even in the dim lighting of Gorilla that Matt and Callie’s gear wasn’t the only thing off about them. Callie in particular seemed unsure of herself. Her eyes met Alex’s. She turned away without a second glance.

Back in the ring, the “celebration” came to a screeching halt when Jurassic Express dumped a cooler full of beer cans over Cash, Dax, and Tully’s heads. Thankfully, they returned backstage a different way than through the entrance tunnels.

Alex drew in a breath and shook out her arms and legs as the show went to commercial. But it seemed like no time had passed at all when she heard the distinctive beat of the Best Friends theme song sound throughout the arena.

“Let’s do this,” Trent said as he held out his fist to her. She bumped it confidently with her own, and they walked into the tunnel together.

* * * * * * * * * *

A boulder settled in the pit of Callie’s stomach as she watched Alex and Trent disappear down the entrance tunnel. She didn’t know why she’d expected Alex to be just as nervous as her. On the contrary, she’d looked laser-focused; her and Trent both had. It was glaringly obvious that they were ten times more prepared for this match than she and Matt were. The two of them hadn’t even walked to Gorilla together—they’d just happened to get there at the same time.

“I’ll start the match,” Matt said. “I’ll try to keep your ring time to a minimum.”

Callie looked at him in hurt and confusion. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s obvious you don’t want to do this,” he breathed. “So I’ll just make quick work of Trent and get it over with, alright?”

“SUPERKICK PARTAYYYYYY!”

The opening of the Young Bucks theme interrupted before Callie could say anything. Matt didn’t so much as glance at her before he walked into the tunnel, and she had no choice but to follow him out.

The crowd offered a mixture of boos and cheers as they walked out onto the stage, but Callie couldn’t hear them over the music. She stood awkwardly next to Matt and waited for him to do his signature pose, but he never did. He just glared into the ring at Trent, who glared right back.

BOOM!

The cannons on the side of the stage shot fake $100 bills high into the air, making Callie flinch. She looked back into the ring as the paper money floated down around them. Alex rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned to say something to Trent.  

She stood stiffly at the top of the stage until Matt moved, and they made their way down the entrance ramp. Trent started jaw-jacking, but Callie tuned him out as she took her place on the ring apron. Matt, however, took the bait; Aubrey had to push him back as they yelled at each other. Eventually, Trent scoffed and turned back to Alex.

“You wanna start?” Callie heard him ask.  

But Alex didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before Matt yelled, “No, we’re starting the match!”

Alex and Trent exchanged a look, but she stepped through the ropes and out onto the apron next to the turnbuckle. Matt removed his leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Aubrey called for the bell, and the match started.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex didn’t know if Matt was ignoring Callie, if Trent just wanted to beat the shit out of Matt, or if it was some combination of both. But whatever the case, the match had been going on for nearly ten minutes now, and neither of them had even tried to tag in her or Callie. It was aggravating, but at least it worked in her team’s favor. The match had effectively become a singles contest, and Trent had far more experience wrestling on his own than Matt did. That, and his cardio was better. If it continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before they won.

Matt tried to whip Trent toward the ropes, but he reversed it and pulled him into a side headlock. He pivoted toward a corner and charged, running up the turnbuckle to hit a float-over DDT. He went for the pin—but Matt kicked out at two. Afterward, both men remained still on the mat, taking what chance they could to catch their breath. Alex eagerly stepped up onto the bottom rope and banged on the turnbuckle. She wanted in.

“Trent! Tag me in!”

She leaned into the ring, reaching as far as she could, and he looked over at her. But just as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, Matt hit him with a clubbing blow to the back. He grabbed him by the hair and jerked him into a chinlock. It wasn’t a move that Matt typically did. Alex knew it meant he was getting tired.

The crowd started clapping in rhythm for Trent, and Alex stomped her boot on the ring apron in time. Trent wrenched at Matt’s fingers, prying them away from his face. In response, Matt pulled him to his feet and swiftly maneuvered to hit a float-over DDT of his own. Alex bit down on her jaw as she watched him hook his leg. Trent got his shoulder up at two.

Alex stepped back up onto the ropes. She was tired of this. “Why don’t you tag in your partner, huh, Matt?” she taunted. “Worried she can’t beat me?”

Matt glared daggers at her as he climbed to his feet. “I don’t want to subject everyone to having to watch you wrestle,” he spat.

But Alex’s wit was just as quick. “Oh really? You look awfully lost without your little brother out here doing all the work.”

That needled him. She knew it would. But what she didn’t expect was his response.

“Please, you wouldn’t even have a contract if you weren’t on your knees for Kenny every night.”

For a second, Alex was stunned into silence. But then a white-hot rage bubbled up inside her. She ducked through the ropes and charged toward him.

“What’d you say to me?”

“You heard me.”

“Why don’t you say it again.”

“Get out of the ring, Alex!” Aubrey ordered.

“Matt!”

At Callie’s warning cry, Matt instinctively whirled around and dodged—and what happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion.

Trent flew toward Alex like a bullet. He crashed into her and knocked the wind from her lungs, sending her violently back into the turnbuckle. She felt a pop in her right shoulder, and then nothing but searing hot pain.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Trent realized what he’d done, he felt sick.

He hadn’t known Alex was in the ring. That DDT had left him dazed, and he’d been oblivious to his surroundings until he’d spotted Matt with his back turned to him. So he went for a spear. But Matt dodged at the last second. Trent had absolutely no chance to stop himself or correct course, and he rammed full speed into Alex.

He watched in stunned horror as she writhed against the turnbuckle. She clenched her right arm, her face screwed up in pain. She was hurt. He’d hurt her.

“Alex—”

Smack!

He was abruptly cut off by a superkick to the jaw. He crumpled to the mat. Matt dragged him by the ankle further into the ring and pinned him. The count sounded distant and faint.

One.

Two.

Three.

The bell rung. Trent felt Matt throw down his leg as the music started, ringing in his ears. He stared up into the lights, unblinking, while Matt’s arm was raised in victory. He’d hurt her. He’d hurt her and then lost the match.

“Alex,” he said again as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. She was still huddled against the turnbuckle, clutching her arm as Aubrey checked on her. He felt sick all over again.

“Alex.” He crawled over to her and put a hand on her knee. She looked up at him. Unshed tears shined in her eyes. It broke him. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It was an accident—”

“Alex!”

Suddenly, Kenny was in the ring. He practically pushed Trent out of the way as he knelt in front of Alex. “What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“I think it’s dislocated,” she winced.

Trent looked at her right shoulder. It hung visibly lower than her left. His heart dropped into his stomach.

“Let’s get you to Doc,” he said as he tried to move toward her again.

But Kenny blocked him. “I got it,” he bit. Trent didn’t have it in him to argue.  

He watched as Kenny helped her to her feet and ushered her to the ropes; he held them open for her so she could gingerly duck through. As she stepped to the other side, Alex looked back. For a brief second their eyes met. But then Kenny put his arm around her, and she turned away and disappeared into the back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie couldn’t stay out there a second longer. She was horrified by what she’d witnessed. The way Matt had taken advantage of Trent’s awful mistake, how he hadn’t hesitated to kick him in the jaw—there’d been a viciousness in his eyes that she’d never seen before. And she didn’t want any part of it.

She stormed off before Aubrey could even raise his arm in victory, marching quickly up the ramp. Kenny nearly bowled her over on his way down to the ring, and she turned to watch as he ran to Alex’s aid. But then she saw Matt coming after her, and she turned back around and hurried through the entrance tunnel.

“Callie!”

She didn’t stop or even glance his way. She just kept walking.

“Callie! What the fuck?”

That got her stop and face him. “Me what the fuck? You what the fuck, Matt? What the fuck was that out there?”

If looks could kill, she was certain she would have been dead on the spot. “Are you serious?” he spat. “I won the match and you just ran off!”

Her eyes darkened. “Well, I didn’t want to be a part of it anyway, right?”

Matt bit down on his jaw. There was nothing he could say to that. She gave him one last glare and turned her back on him again, praying that was the end of it. She just wanted to leave. Alone.

“I want your shit out of my house by the weekend.”

Callie halted. His words were like a knife in the back. They hurt. And suddenly, she wanted him to hurt, too.

She turned around again, her head held high. “That’s fine, because I don’t want to move back to California anymore.”

She held his gaze in defiance. But Matt just laughed, cruel and low. “Let me guess, Orlando with Cash?”

She faltered. He knew about yesterday. But she steeled herself again. “No. I want to move to Orlando for me.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

“That’s the truth!”

“Was all this just a rebound to you?”

If his previous words had been a knife to the back, those were a blow to the gut. Tears sprung to the back of Callie’s eyes. Her voice came out strained. Apologetic. “No. I care about you, Matt. So much that it scares me.”

He laughed again and looked away. “Coulda fooled me.”

She took a step toward him. “Matt—”

“Have fun in Orlando,” he cut her off, and that time it was him who stormed off and left her behind. Alone.

[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

cuz im all that you want, boy

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: explicit content warning: shameless porn, crying during sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom kids), feminine terms used for ftm genitals, i think thats it correct me if im wrong! <3 dabi fucks tomura silly on stream !

it was only a matter of time before tomura’s next stream, and his views were at an all time high. he had taken pictures of himself in the thigh highs and garters before he went live last time, and those posts were blowing up.

he wondered if dabi would let him take pictures next time.

next time was also a fun prospect. dabi and tomura had been considerably closer since the livestream, dabi being more and more taunting each time he interacted with tomura. tomura wanted to say he disliked it, but that would be lie. not that he was impartial to lying. but it just felt strange to lie to himself about the man who would be actively fucking him to pay the bills.

tomura got almost unreasonably excited for the next stream, but before it came, he needed to talk to dabi. they needed to set limited, get supplies, and get all of that set up before they dove too deep into this. he didn’t wanna fuck the dude up or potentially get himself knocked up.

so a couple days before his next scheduled livestream, he caught dabi in the kitchen. it was later on in the night, both being unhealthily nocturnal. dabi looked up from his ramen, sitting on the counter, and immediately gave a shit eating grin.

“hello, freakshow.” tomura’s voice was laced with annoyance and sarcasm.

“hey, creep. what’s up?” he took a long slurp of his ramen, and tomura fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

“we gotta talk about some things if you wanna keep joinin’ me for the streams.” tomura pulled up a chair at the table, across the counter that dabi was currently sitting on.

“ok, so first off. you can quit out at any time, i’ll just end the stream or continue it alone. just remember that, you can leave at any time. i’ll delete any videos or anything that i put up with you in them, just tell me.” tomura started out with the most important thing. “you can always tell me if you don’t like something, or if you aren’t comfortable with something. you got a safeword? mine’s red light, just for ease.”

dabi smiled, a strange reaction that tomura didn’t evoke often, and nodded. “i gotcha, i’ll go with that too. now what’s goin’ down during the next one?” dabi’s smile morphed into the shiteating grin that tomura knew all too well.

“well, it really depends. you could do me, i could do you, its what the audience wants to see. and what they’re willing to pay for.” tomura sported a little smirk of his own, immediately dropping when the man across from him took a loud slurp of his noodles.

it was a moment before dabi replied. “cool with me.”

---

in the days following, tomura made it his mission to try to wind dabi up. he wanted to increase the tension between them, and he found in his attempts that the frustrated blush on dabi’s face when he was frustrated was a good look on him. 

he would purposefully brush too far against him in the hallway or the kitchen, be in the kitchen with his thigh-highs on, or just give dabi these looks that he knew he was capable of— only because he had practiced them in the mirror for his streams. and the teasing was working. dabi was wound like a spring, snapping at tomura more often, and tomura would just grin and walk off.

it made him feel powerful, knowing he was doing something to his poor roommate. 

eventually the day came when the stream would take place, and butterflies made their way into tomura’s stomach as he set up the camera and tripod perpendicular to his bed, along with quivers in his legs and gut. and ten minutes before 10 pm, he knocked on dabi’s door and made his way back into his room to sit on his bed.

he put on some beat-heavy background music, easing him into his mood. he wasn’t wearing anything special on the surface this time, just a black thong under his shorts and a hoodie. he knew dabi would eat it up anyway, by the look on his face as he entered the room. he practically billowed steam, eyes lit up like firelight. it was intoxicating the way the other man looked at him. he turned his back, swallowing his embarrassment and adopting his livestream persona. he took a deep breath, moved to his laptop, and started the stream. dabi took his seat on the bed, leaned back on his hands and watching tomura like a hawk.

tomura greeted his returning viewers, and welcomed new ones, before the view count got too high to speak to individually and he addressed the group of them all.

“hey, i’m tomura, this is my roommate dabi, and welcome to tonight’s stream—” he went on to explain the goals this stream, and left the events of the night open to the democracy of his chat.

>> I kinda want to see our boy get ruined… 0////0

>> Agreed!! ^^

>> idk, i think we shud let tomu decide -3-

>> fuck him up dabi

tomura nearly blushed at the influx of comments requesting dabi ‘ruin’ him, and he’d be lying if he said the thought wasn’t getting him wet in his shorts. he chuckled, a fake hollow little thing that the audience would eat up, and quickly looked back at dabi. he was nearly stopped in his tracks at the sight of two neon blue eyes tracing his movement with intensity that had tomura nearly shaking.

“well, folks, i’d say yes but i think i’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is.” it weirdly always paid for him to be upfront. it added to his strange rotten charm as a performer. 

dabi seemed nearly surprised in the background, the white-haired man watching him through the screen of his computer.

“what’re they suggestin’, tomura?” his name out of dabi’s mouth was intimate in this setting, and almost threw tomura off. he turned to face the man, giving another shit-eating grin.

“they wanna see you fuck me.” he was composed and slightly sultry outwardly, but on the inside it felt like a small horde of giant butterflies were currently trying to rattle his ribcage. he was glad he was on medication for his raging anxiety or he wouldn’t have this job, or the chance to fuck his hot roommate. he could feel the tingle in his legs working its way up and toward his core. especially at the look and quiet growl dabi made at tomura’s words.

he prayed to whatever god was listening that someone donated. but in the meantime, he had a show to put on. he turned back to the chat.

>> rile him up, tomu ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و ̑̑

>> ^^^^

and tomura’s own eagerness showed when he immediately followed orders, standing up and making his way over to where dabi was sitting, sliding into his lap just like last time.

“hello again—” tomura cut dabi off before he could even start with a hungry kiss. dabi’s arms immediately went to wrap around tomura’s waist, engulfing it and pulling tomura against the hardness in dabi’s sweatpants.

hot.

ding!

tomura pulled away from the kiss, whipping his head around to look at the screen.

>>> cyncyty Donated $50.00: ride his face ! <<<

tomura’s face turned red, looking to dabi, who was also staring at the donation.

“well, looks like we have a request! thank you... “ tomura didn’t have a clue how to pronounce the username, “so much!” his voice was enthusiastic to hide the shaking in his legs that dabi could no doubt feel as said man gripped his thighs and grinded his hips up, causing tomura to lose his breath.

“you heard em’, hop on.” dabi’s voice was gravelly and tomura could see the desire in his eyes. dabi leaned back on his elbows, still rolling his hips up into tomura.

tomura put on a show in taking his clothes off, as he always tried to do. pulling his hoodie over his head, and removing himself from dabi’s lap to taunt the camera with the straps of his underwear that were visible over the sides of his shorts. he saw dabi strip his shirt in the background as tomura finally pulled his shorts and underwear off after plenty of taunting his audience. and dabi, apparently, because as soon as tomura was in reach, dabi was gripping him by the waist and pulling the white-haired man back-to-front in his lap and attaching his lips to tomura’s neck.

tomura let out a (semi-embarrassing) whine, arching back into his touch, feeling the other man’s erection through his sweatpants. dabi ate it up, sucking another mark into tomura’s neck before laying back and laughing at tomura’s gasp when he thrust up again.

“c’mon babydoll, we don’t have all day.” tomura swore dabi got a power-high from this, evil little glint in his eye telling the white-haired man all he needed to know. either way, there was a reaction in the way that tomura scrambled to position himself with either thigh on the sides of dabi’s head. the camera had a side perspective, getting all of tomura’s expressions as dabi dove in.

dabi had a lot of practice, somewhere, sometime because the way he was working tomura out almost immediately was borderline unfair. tomura snuck a hand into dabi’s hair, yanking and receiving a growl against him for his efforts. tomura ground down against dabi’s magical fuckin’ tongue as he brought his other hand up to muffle himself. that had dabi immediately pulling off of him to look up at him, blue eyes meeting red, as if waiting for something.

“they gotta hear you baby, ain’t that the whole point?” tomura could hear his smirk but obeyed anyway, putting his other hand in dabi’s hair and pulling him back to where he wanted him.

ding!

>>> cmrbbg Donated $110.00: Fuck him silly, Make him cry. <<<

tomura looked over to the laptop, blissed out look in his eye, only to see his highest returning donator once again blow everyone else out of the water. tomura rolled his hips against the warmth of dabi’s mouth before pulling away, sliding down and letting dabi sit up.

but before tomura could say anything, dabi said it for him.

“god, fuckin’ thank you—” was his only warning before dabi was manhandling him into quite an embarrassing position, face down ass up on his own bed before he could even say ‘shit’. dabi had him by his hips, forcing his back into quite the impressive arch. 

dabi grabbed the lube from tomura’s bedside table and slicked his fingers up, one entering with no resistance. he added another, earning a breathy sigh from tomura. he curled his fingers upwards, locating that little spot inside him that made tomura’s hips rock against him.

“god, you’re so pretty like this, y’know?” dabi breathed out, words deep and damn near confectionary. tomura wasn’t used to compliments, burying his head into his arms. dabi scissored his fingers.

“you are. you’re glowin’, baby. so perfect like this, gonna take me so good. you’re gorgeous.” the last bit was whispered, the mic not picking it up as tomura blushed down to his shoulders. his arch deepened, legs spreading a bit more as dabi added a third finger. it was accompanied by a pitiful moan that failed to be muffled by tomura’s arms. finally, dabi deemed him ready— or he was just done with this torment, as tomura heard clothes rustling and the slick sound of the lube. tomura didn’t turn around, only swaying his hips from side to side coyly as he knew the audience liked.

he felt those hot hands grip his hips again, and he felt hot pressure against his entrance. dabi grinded his cock against him, not entering as another form of torture that teh white-haired man  was fed up with.

“you know what to do, tomura.” the words were commanding and taunting at the same time, the tone making tomura hot as dabi massaged his thighs. tomura tried to push back against dabi, grinding back and making the other man suck his breath in.

“you’re not gettin’ nothin’ unless you ask nicely, i know you know how to, baby.” dabi murmured, tracing his hand along the dip in tomura’s spine. the touch was so gentle, so intimate, that it had tomura spilling his pride and his words for this man yet again.

“please,” he panted out, nearly biting his hand out of embarrassment due to his whiny tone.

“please what?”

“please fuck me, please—” and with a shock that shot straight up his spine, he felt dabi enter him all at once. he made an awful squawking noise, nearly folding in on himself. dabi stayed where he was for a moment, tapping on tomura’s hip to check in on him. tomura nodded, and dabi began his violent thrusts. tomura felt every slide of metal and hot flesh against his inside, feeling split open on the other man’s cock. the rubbing against his insides scratched an itch, satisfied an ache, and he could feel himself getting lost in it. his moans were muffled into his arms as his eyes damn near rolled to the back of his head, eyes half-lidded and full of lust.

dabi suddenly, grabbed him by his hair and wrapped a hand under his chest and pulled his up, throwing him off guard. a new angle hit a spot inside tomura he didn’t even know he had, and he let out a loud gasp as dabi continued to plow that spot inside him. tomura felt a pressure building up in his gut.

“fuck— dabi, god, please—” tomura babbled, “god, i can feel it.”

dabi let out a breathy chuckle, nosing along tomura’s shoulders, moving to hold him up by a vice grip on his elbows.

“close, close, please—” 

and with that, dabi dropped tomura onto the bed, roughly pulling out and leaving tomura to face-plant into the pillows.

tomura looked around at him with murder in his eyes. dabi only grinned, leaning over tomura and flipping him over on his back. dabi took tomura’s hands, placing them above his head.

“keep em’ there or it’s over,” dabi threatened, despite the fact that he felt like he would die if he didn’t have tomura right there with him. tomura was heating up and his brain felt like jello already, his orgasm staved off by the drop of his gut from the surprise faceplant.

dabi re-entered, this time agonizingly slow. tomura tried to wriggle his hips, but dabi just held them in his iron hot grip. they had honestly forgotten about the camera at this point, too caught up in the flush of their hips as dabi finally pushed all the way inside. they started up again, rocking their hips together with enough momentum that the impact was nearly bruising at the spots of touch. tomura’s pillowy thighs helped with that, despite his boney nature.

the drag of heat from his cunt to the look that dabi was giving him, in addition to the buildup of one orgasm with no relief had tomura getting close again already.

“please, can i cum? i’ve been good, i’ll be good—”

“god, you have no idea how good you sound right now. you’re so hot, tomura. beg me again, just like that?” dabi’s grin was awful and shit-eating, but tomura had lost all pride, only focused on the slap of their hips and the melting of his own mind.

“dabi! dabi, please— let me cum, god—” and as much as dabi wanted to give it to him, he still pulled out. he had a job to do, and with the way tomura was wriggling in frustration, whimpering like a bitch in heat, dabi could do this all day.

he had to make tomura cry. and with the look on the other man’s face, he wasn’t far off. wide, glassy eyes, a grimace and upturned brows. all he needed was the tears. so he sat, and he waited while tomura squirmed. each time tomura would try to take initiative, dabi would grab his hips to stop his movements, and tomura had yet to disobey him about moving his arms. it was so hot to have control over someone who usually gave him so much shit.

tomura started begging again, and dabi eventually had to give in, piledriving his cock into the man below him. and with a few particularly deep thrusts, tomura threw his head back as a tear ran down his face. his moans were more like quiet and breathless sobs at this point, so eager and so ready. so dabi sped up, slamming into the boy harder and harder. tomura’s words sped up and broke apart until they were just small little groans of “dabi”, “please”, and “fuck”. it was amusing that dabi really had fucked him silly. tears escaped tomura’s gorgeous red eyes, rolling down his red cheeks and bringing dabi so much closer to the edge.

tomura’s arms finally moved and came to grip at dabi’s biceps. dabi allowed it because the boy probably needed something to ground himself with. dabi decided to show the poor boy mercy, reaching down with his thumb to circle the boys swollen clit and leaned down to murmur in his ear.

“cum for me, pretty boy,” and tomura was undone. a cry, a gasp and a visceral physical reaction, and he was clenching around dabi as he came so hard he saw stars.

it wasn’t long for dabi, pulling out and cumming on tomura’s stomach with a groan, panting as he felt tomura still holding on to his arms. dabi sat back for a moment to catch his breath before approaching the laptop, still nude.

“well, i hope you enjoyed. gonna go take care of our resident star, and i’ll be seeing you guys next time.” dabi murmured a quick goodbye to the audience, shutting off the livestream and turning off the computer. dabi didn’t know how to turn off the equipment, that was just something tomura would have to fuck with once he came back to the land of the living. dabi went off to retrieve a rag and some water, coming back to tomura staring at the ceiling.

“you with me, baby?” dabi sat back on the bed, using the rag to gently clean tomura up, before cleaning himself up and throwing the rag on the floor to be dealt with later (gross). he motioned the water bottle to tomura, which he happily gulped down.

“jesus, yeah. that was—” tomura cut off, shaking his head. “can you get my hoodie for me? and some regular underwear. i can’t fuckin’ walk, freakshow. you did me in.” tomura griped, and dabi went to fulfill the request, throwing on his own boxers. and to his own surprise,tomura grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him down onto the bed and wrapping himself around dabi like some sort of koala. 

“stay,” was all tomura said.

and so dabi did.

[ravs6709]

These Feelings Inside (How Deep Do They Go)

Chapter 2- A Broken Heart

Read on ao3.

Masterlist. Previous. Next.

Woo, chapter 2 of the fic for the @kotlc2021collab! Fun fact, like all of this chapter was supposed to happen in the first one, but I got carried away with the prologue (which I do like)

Anyways, this is a mermaid (siren) au, so its about time we meet a siren. I've mentioned last time that this was inspired by Siren's Lament. I didn't use those lyrics as the siren song, and instead made my own (with very loose inspiration from SL's version)

And uh... I did record myself singing it, and made a post for it. If you want to listen to it, you can go here! (I'll put a link at the end too)

Warnings I guess? Uh, Sophie goes through a whole panic section at the end. And then the siren lures her and it's indirectly said that she falls off a cliff/whatever and into the water and starts drifting off. Idk how to label that but yeah

Anyways, enjoy!

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Sometimes, I'm still surprised you keep them," Biana said, gesturing to the various flowers that were in the corner of Sophie's room. "I mean, if you ever want him to look at you differently, you're going to have to make a move. You know that, right?"

Even without saying a name, Sophie knew that she was referring to Fitz. It took a long time until she'd admitted the crush to Biana, who had already known. She always liked keeping the flowers that Fitz gave her, and would keep them for as long as possible. They might not be what she wanted, but she still appreciated the fact that he even gifted the flowers to her in the first place.

"It's not like I've kept them all," Sophie pointed out.

She ignored the fact that the ones that she had thrown away were too old to be kept.

Unfortunately, Biana knew that. "If they didn't wilt so easily, you'd be keeping them all. But you ignored my question. You know that you'll have to make a move, right?"

"Biana, he gave me a yellow rose first. He's the one who made his feelings clear first. What am I supposed to say? Oh yeah, I've had a crush on you for like eight years now, and I never mentioned it before because you've been giving me signs that you clearly see me as a friend? Is that what you want me to tell him?"

Biana shrugged. "When you say it like that…"

"Even if saying that did work, it's not like I'd be able to actually say it. My brain just runs non-stop but then the moment I make eye contact everything just stops."

"Sophie, when has he not been understanding of you?"

That was true. A lot of people didn't take the effort to try and understand Sophie, but Fitz did. The way he was so respectful- despite the fact that it should have been basic decency- was one of the numerous reasons why Sophie loved him.

"I know he'll be understanding, but that's just going to make things even more awkward."

"I guess. Should we go down now?"

"Sure."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"Oh, Fitz, you're here! What are you doing?" Sophie asked.

While he did come over often, he was usually busy on Thursdays, which was why Sophie was surprised to see him.

"I'm free this time, so I figured that I'd drop by," he explained.

She liked that he was around for the visit. Working at the shop wasn't boring, but it was more entertaining when she had someone to pass the time with. 

He walked closer to her, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Also," he whispered. "I'm making sure that plans for tonight go well."

She glanced at Biana for a moment, who was on her phone. Sophie whispered back. "Your house or mine? I think yours would probably be better."

"What's the movie for tonight? That movie Biana said that she wanted to watch?"

"That's the plan."

"I don't get why you two always get secretive about the birthday movie night," Biana said.

Both Sophie and Fitz spun towards her, and it turned out that she still wasn't looking up from her phone.

"We've been doing this for years ."

"It's the birthday spirit we're trying to achieve, and you know that!" Fitz defended.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

•~•~•~•~•~•

The couches at Everglen were really comfortable. It was even more comfortable to be sitting with her friends. The birthday person was often the one who sat in the center, and Sophie smiled as Biana wrapped an arm around her. Occasionally Dex would join them, but he wasn't available this time.

The movie was playing, but they were only somewhat paying attention to what was going on. Sophie paid more attention to the clock, which showed 11:58 p.m. Just two minutes away from midnight, or Biana's birthday. She counted down the seconds, until it was finally time.

"Happy birthday!" she cheered.

"Happy birthday!" Fitz repeated.

"Thanks, both of you."

•~•~•~•~•~•

"You'll be fine, right?" Sophie asked.

"Sophie, it's just one day," Edaline said, exasperated. "You don't have to feel bad about taking a day off."

"Tell us how the game goes!" Grady added.

Biana's university team had managed to make it to the finals for volleyball, so Sophie and Fitz planned to go support her. But it also meant that neither of them would be at the shop.

"You'll text me if you need help though, right?"

"Yes, we'll text you. You can leave, it looks like Fitz is waiting for you." Edaline pointed to the entrance, where Fitz was indeed standing.

"Bye mom, bye dad!" she said, before kissing them both on the cheek.

Fitz took her hand as they walked to the car. She concentrated so hard on trying to stop herself from blushing that she didn't realize when they stopped walking.

She'd been pining after Fitz for around eight years, and her feelings had gotten easier to work with. Most of the time, at least. But during the times like this, those feelings that she suppressed would fight to be released. He was casually affectionate, which was great (sometimes she found it hard to initiate the contact, no matter how much she wanted it), but it constantly did things to her heart.

Each time it happened, she had to remind herself that no , he wasn't flirting with her or acting out of romantic interest. That was just how he was.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, let go of his hand, then went in the car. It was silent on the way there, but she needed that silence in order to prepare herself. She took out her headphones once they were almost there.

"Sophie?" Fitz called out.

She responded with a hum.

"You know how it is. If it gets too loud, squeeze my arm."

She hummed again.

Then they arrived, and made their way to the seats. Biana was brilliant on the court, and she seemed to be doing even better than usual. By the end of the game, the cheering got loud, but not bad enough that it hurt. Biana's team had won by a decent amount.

"Congrats, Biana!" Fitz cheered once it was over and they met up.

"It feels unbelievable, because that was the finals? I can't believe we just won!"

"I knew you could do it," Sophie stated.

"I mean yeah, but the other uni was also really good! Guess it wasn't their day, huh?"

"It was definitely your day though," Fitz replied.

•~•~•~•~•~•

"I hate the fact that horns exist," Fitz groaned.

"What, so you like being hit by blue shells?" Sophie asked.

"Obviously not! But I like hitting you with them!"

"If you're able to get blue shells, it's clear that you aren't good at the game!"

It was game night again, and they were playing the newest version of Mario Kart, a game that was nostalgic to them. They were sitting in Sophie's room this time. Biana wasn't there, as she was busy studying with Dex.

"Look, if you aren't second place all the CPUs are there and you aren't safe," he retorted.

"Then just don't be third place? It's not that hard?"

Somehow, he managed to actually do that, and was quickly approaching her kart. It was the end of the final lap, and he passed her. But she got a red shell, shot him right before the finish line, then won first place.

"Excuse me?" he shouted. "Why do you get the red shells?"

She turned towards him with a smirk, only to be startled by the proximity. All she could see were those teal eyes, and the snarky reply she had planned to make was now forgotten. His eyes were wide, and he seemed to barely be breathing. It felt like time had frozen.

Could she take the risk and close the gap between them?

Should I?

Before she could make up her mind, he turned away, and he even moved slightly further away.

He's keeping his distance…

The realization was a hard blow to her, because that wasn't something he had ever done before. Was he that bothered by it?

"I thought you were good at the game," Fitz teased.

But unless Sophie was imagining it, his tone wasn't as lighthearted as it usually was. She tried to channel the frustration and use it to focus on the game, but she was doing worse. Ninth place. She hadn't scored so low in a while.

"Looks like that was the last game," he pointed out. "I'll head home now."

"Bye, Fitz."

She winced at her voice, because she was doing a terrible job at pretending that she was okay. Once she was sure that he left, she buried her face in her hands and just sat there. What was going on? Was Fitz mad at her? That would be the only reason why he would distance himself like that.

But why? Did she do something wrong? If she knew, she'd try and set things right. But what was she supposed to do?

Even though her room was large, she felt restricted. Too small, too hot, too suffocating. She couldn't breathe.

Her actions after that were a blur. She'd grabbed a sweater and went outside. She walked aimlessly along a path. The area seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't tell where she was.

The wind was cool against her face, the only thing that kept her remotely aware of her surroundings. There may have even been rain too.

Breathe. You need to breathe .

The voice sounded strangely like Fitz's, and it reminded her of when she had a panic attack and Fitz was there to help her. But he wasn't here this time. Was he going to start avoiding her? What about Biana? Did she have a problem with her too? W-

There was a hum, loud and melodic. She looked around for the source.

 

'Oh you, with that broken heart.'

 

"Who's there?"

 

'You, whose life's falling apart.'

 

Almost as if against her will, her mind replayed the moment of Fitz turning away from her. The rain fell harder, making it harder to see anything except her own imagination.

 

'Have you come here to the sea,

To drown in your memories?'

 

If Fitz and Biana were going to distance themselves, what was she going to do? Ten years worth of memories, were they just going to be tossed aside?

 

'The weight of them is too strong,

Crushing you, it's all so wrong.'

 

Different memories kept emerging. Her first meeting with Biana. Her first meeting with Fitz. Exchanging flowers with Fitz. Weren't the worst memories the ones that started off good? They were the ones that had you soaring, until you're being dragged towards the ground.

 

'May the waves wash all the tears,

That you've gathered through the years.'

 

Sophie knew that she could show her emotions around her friends, but she hated doing it. She had a tendency to suppress her sadness and tears and right now felt like a good time to just let it out.

Very distantly, she could feel herself walking towards the source of the singing.

 

'But what if there was a way,

To make the pain go away?'

 

Was that a thing? She hated doubting her friends, it hurt so much. But if she could just not worry, wouldn't that be better? Wouldn't that ease so much of her pain?

 

'To leave behind your sorrows,

Enter a new tomorrow.'

 

If tomorrow could come and ease away all of her pain, shouldn't she take that chance? Her foot caught against the ground, and now she was tumbling forward, and fell into the water.

 

'I have an offer for you,

You can start your life anew.'

 

The fall was by no means something that snapped her out of her daze, but Sophie found herself slightly more aware. Starting your life anew? Did she want that? Did she want to leave behind the people she loved?

Wasn't that what she worried Fitz was doing? Throwing their love away?

Sophie thought of the memories that they'd shared. It hurt, but they were the best memories that Sophie had. Would it ever be worth it to throw away all those good times just to abandon a potentially bad one?

I want my life , she told herself. I'm happiest with them. But… it's hard.

 

'You can escape the abyss.'

 

The voice was so much louder now, and she tried to move away, but her body wouldn't move.

 

'All I ask is for one kiss.'

 

She couldn't see, and she could vaguely feel a pair of lips press against her own. She was just drifting, in both her thoughts and the sea. She kept drifting until she could no longer feel anything.

•~•~•~•~•~•

You can find the song here!

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[writers-thoughts09]

True Mind, True Heart

Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 1)

Title: True Mind, True Heart: Act 1 Chapter 2 (Part 1) About 5.7k words Pairing: Zuko x OC (or reader idk, mind you this is like a mega slow burn fanfic so i hope you’re okay with thaaaaat). I don’t own Avatar or the character’s except my OC. Rating: PG, maybe some 13 later on Warning: Mean Zuko, uuuuuh i think that’s it. A/N: I’m so sorry for the majorly late update! I’m doing my best I have a lot planned for this story and I plan to finish this, I hope you guys will follow Lila’s journey with me! :) <3.  I apologize if the fight scenes are choppy and unclear, I’ve never written or broke down a fight scene in writing before. I might go back and fix this later. Tomorrow I’ll post part 2. Anyway without further adieu enjoy the read :)

|Prologue| 1 | 2 part 1 | 2 part 2

*

Act 1: Salvation

The sunset was quite a breathtaking sight to see if someone were to take the time to stop and stare. With the sun warm and low on the horizon, lovely rays of orange light sprawled softly across the sky, creating pink orange and yellow hues. A gradient of shades, begging to be admired. The white clouds that slowly rolled by basked in the mix of colors as they too took some of the sun’s golden tinge. Of course, no one was around to witness this natural piece of art since everyone was busy going about their business, especially on Prince Zuko’s ship.

For hours Lila sat silently in her dingy quarters, no hitch detected in her breathing. Quiet and still like a swamp with dark murky water. Untouched and motionless. Ever since Prince Zuko’s morning lessons, no one’s asked for Lila’s assistance with anything, so, for the remainder of the day, she’s been in her room.

If anyone, say Iroh, were to see her meditating, they would’ve thought she looked exactly like prince Zuko during his meditation sessions. Mimicking what she remembered the night she brought him his dinner Lila sat with her back straight, eyes closed, accompanied by nothing except deep breathing. Even though she imitated the prince’s form and tried to follow Iroh’s teachings from this morning’s lesson, it was like there was a block between her and her element. Like her fingertips would come so close to grazing that certain feeling but were still out of reach from fully grasping it. No matter how hard she’d concentrate to connect with that energy lying dormant inside her, nothing worked.

But finally, after sitting on the uncomfortable floor for who knows how long, Lila began to feel an inkling of that same euphoric peace build within her body again. It was similar to what she felt earlier above deck but slightly different. It was softer, less…magnetic as it ebbed the presence of her emotions away. Specifically, impatience and frustration when lieutenant Jee came knocking and interrupted her a while ago.

With meticulous breaths, Lila drew a smooth inhale in through her nose, filling her lungs, traveling down, expanding her belly, and gently expelled the air from her mouth, the water in her cup rippling in sync. Her heart maintained tempo with her breathing, which was strong and consistent as each beat pulsed through her being.

Though her body was at ease, patience evaded Lila’s mind, blinding her progress as she huffed in irritation. Eyes still closed she shifted her bottom for the umpteenth time. Soft like a feather but sharp like a beak, she drew another breath in, doing her best to maintain what little connection she felt with her element while keeping her frustrations at bay. Just when she was about to exhale, that breath turned into a yelp when a loud boom exploded from beyond the ship.

Like the snap of a rubber band, Lila’s concentration was broken yet again as her eyes flew open. With a start, the sudden noise made Lila jump and pull a small amount of water, which she didn’t notice as she stood up in alarm. Confusion and fear clouded her as she listened for what could’ve possibly made a noise that loud. It sounded like a flare, but Lila wasn’t so sure. “Is it an ambush?...No it couldn’t be; we haven’t had any problems or run-ins with anyone for a long while.”

Lila’s thoughts were going in circles as she rushed to her drawer to grab a fresh piece of cloth she cut up weeks before, tied it over her marred eye before reluctantly opening the door. Silently, a tawny-colored iris peeped down the metal hallways, no benders or guards in sight. However, even if they weren’t down below they might’ve already been above deck when whatever it was went off.

Noiselessly and carefully, with nimble steps like an alley cat, Lila crept through the corridors and up the familiar set of stairs. Mangled fingernails trailed along the metal wall to aid her lack of sight. Once Lila climbed up to the main deck and felt fresh air ruffle the fallen curls from her bun, Lila’s suspicions were confirmed. A bright naval flare signal was falling far out in the snowy distance. She watched, her good eye following its downward path, musing to herself, “Where did it come from though?”

Noticing the absence of prince Zuko, Uncle Iroh, and their men who were usually out and about above deck around this time, Lila glanced around the empty ship then turned to the command tower. Squinting her good eye Lila’s gaze raked up the length of it and stopped at the observation deck’s balcony. As clear as the golden sky she caught sight of the Prince. Half of his scarred face obscured as he peered through the telescope attached to the railing in front of him. Although she couldn’t see gauge what he was feeling, she was certain he figured out what or who signaled that flare and was already directing his next course of action.

When suddenly that same foreboding sensation from before when they first saw the beam of light, roiled around her chest and stomach, leaving Lila uneasy. Why? Well, she didn’t know what to expect. Was it the avatar? A false alarm? She didn’t know and not knowing left a nasty taste in her mouth.

After Prince Zuko finished barking orders at his men, solar colored eyes caught a glimpse of the curly-haired servant below seconds before he continued looking through the telescope. The girl stood by herself with half her face covered, the setting sun illuminating her tanned skin, and looked up at him with -what he could detect- nervousness. Prince Zuko didn’t know as to why nor did he care. The entirety of his focus on capturing the Avatar.

A brown eye fluttered as Lila snapped from her thoughts. Hurriedly she turned and hastened down below to the kitchen. She knew now was not the time to get distracted from her work. Earlier the chef told her he was ill and asked Lila to fill in for him tonight. She agreed though something told her he was lying. Through the maze of corridors and staircases, a passing conversation of a few men could be heard as they rushed by.

One man bumped her shoulder as he hissed, “hurry, we have to dress the Prince, the Avatar’s hiding place has been found. We’re going to the southern water tribe.”

Lila’s eye widened as her breath hitched at the mention of her mother’s sister tribe. If the Avatar is truly alive and has been hiding there for the past hundred years…worry gripped her heart over the safety of the tribes' native people. Although prince Zuko hasn’t engaged in many battles with other ships or neighboring nations, the Fire Lord’s son was a wildly stubborn and determined boy who’d stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Lila didn’t doubt he’d probably leave a trail of chaos in his wake with no regard for the consequences or how it’d affect the lives of others.

Once she entered the empty kitchen Lila rolled her sleeves up and got to preparing dinner, the red dye of her uniform reminding her of the clothes she wore as a child in the palace. As she cooked, she blinked back thoughts she knew all too well. Red uniform

Screams of fear echoing in the palace gardens

A girl in royal garbs

“You’re useless.” ... “Holy-ow!”

A sudden stinging pain roughly pulled Lila from the haze of old memories. In her stupor, Lila didn’t notice how close the knife was while cutting the spring unions and managed to slice her pointer finger. Quickly, the girl staggered away from the kitchen counter, removing the steaming pots and pans with her uninjured hand, and flitted about the kitchen looking for anything to stop the bleeding. She checked all the drawers, cabinets, and pantries as bright red blood continued to ooze over her finger and onto her hand. The throbbing and stinging continued to intensify making Lila bite her lip in pain as she tucked her finger beneath her thumb. Unable to find any clean rags or towels-

“My eye cloth…”

A tug on her heart stopped her search momentarily.

To her, that cloth was like a barricade of some sort to Lila. Sheltering the small girl from being reminded of it…the day she lost-

In summary, her eye patch was the only thing that blocked out the reality of what happened that day. Regardless of how vulnerable she felt without the cloth now was not the time or the place to start feeling insecure or hesitant, she knew that. There was work to be done; rice and meat filleting.

With the cleaning basins for the dishes nearby Lila went toward it to clean her finger and avoid food contamination. It should’ve been cleaned and refilled now that it was close to dinner time. Ready to dunk her hand in the water and wash her bloodied wound she stopped abruptly. The whole bucket was still dirty from lunchtime. Bits and pieces of rice, chicken, and other scraps floated about in the water. With a rough sigh and a curl of a plump lip, Lila closed her eye for a moment.

“I can’t catch a break,” she groaned lowly. Never again was she going to fill in for the chef.

Still, she was a servant…what could she do? Nothing. Before she could change her mind, Lila briskly grabbed the knot of the cloth from behind her head and pulled it free, a few strands of curls ripping from her bun. The milky white of her blinded eye on full display, free of any covering but chained to inhibition. Gloomy hands of her past groped and reached for Lila, but she slapped their searching palms away as she began wrapping her wound. Gentle but sure fingers tied the end of her cloth into a firm knot and she inspected her handiwork with a wistful smile. The memory of her mother’s soft hands dressing the wounds of a child rolled like a movie, replacing the ones Lila usually remembered.

“Lila, you fell again?”

The playful timbre of her mother's low voice filled their backyard. Lila’s childish eyes bubbling with tears raised from the cut on her knee as her mother calmly squatted in front of her fallen form.

“I didn’t mean to mommy. The tree was in my way,” cried her indignant daughter. Laughter rang from her mother, a white bandage appearing in her dark hands, 

“Of course, but you also have to be careful where you’re stepping too, my love.” Knowing her mother was right but still unhappy with that answer, Lila huffed out a sniffle. Tenderly her mom cupped the back of her daughter’s freshly scraped knee and began lecturing, “Here, let’s teach you how to fix wounds, big girls are good at that-”

“Big girls like you, mommy?” A squeaky voice interrupted.

Nuna glanced up at her daughter’s question. Brown innocent eyes that held such curiosity reflected in Nuna’s blue ones she just had to laugh.

“Yes Lila, big girls like me and you.”

Lowering her newly wrapped finger, Lila’s lips fell back into a straight line. She had no time to get lost in her thoughts. Deciding to try and cover her eye with her hair, her uninjured hand pulled her hair free from the fire nation styled top knot. Onyx curls tumbling down the length of her back in one fell swoop, kissing the top of her hips. The overwhelming urge to moan in relief had goosebumps tickle Lila’s spine as the tension of her tight bun dissipated almost instantaneously. She brought her hands up under her hair and aggressively massaged her scalp, both eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“Ahh, yes…” A soft groan rumbled from the back of her throat.

“Ahem.”

“Oh, my goodness!” She gasped.

Whipping toward the kitchen door, hands tangled in her roots, the men from earlier in the hallway were standing there watching her as if they’d found an earth kingdom stowaway. Though the more she watched them with increasingly flushed cheeks, the more she realized they were staring at the eye. Tanned hands flew from her scalp to shake her curls and obscure their sight, but it was futile, they already saw the clouded pigmentation. Involuntarily closing her eye, the servant girl clasped her hands over her stomach and curled into a bow.

“Um, hello,” Lila stuttered but caught herself, remembering her place. Kind professionalism coating her soft question, “how may I be of service to you?”

The man who she heard speak in the corridor collected himself faster than the rest and cleared his throat before announcing,

“We are close to our arrival of the southern water tribe and Prince Zuko has requested your presence to dress him for the capture of the Avatar.”

Alarm colored Lila’s features when she recalled the last time she was alone with the prince. Streams of tears and memories he unintentionally triggered that night played before her. Swallowing down the building discomfort in her throat, Lila straightened up and schooled her worry lines into a controlled smile. She had to remind herself, “The Prince didn’t know.”

Apparently, for the men, Lila’s forced smile mixed with the ghastly mismatched color of her eyes was too much to handle, unable to hide their distaste. Faster than she could stop it, a pang of offense and hurt yanked at her heart, but she managed to stifle and shove the feelings away as she gave another trained bow. Though a question did come to mind.

“I beg your pardon, but may I ask why he requested me specifically? He has never requested this of me before,” words mousy.

Her question only seemed to cause the man to grow irritated, his eyebrow ticking in impatience as major attitude gripped his words, “The prince claimed to be displeased with our services in preparing him. Now, would you please stop talking and do what prince Zuko has asked of you? He’s waiting.”

“What about the food-”

“Servant girl, what did I just say?” The man angrily snapped.

With a flinch, Lila mumbled, “My apologies,” before bowing one last time.

Throwing an “Unbelievable” over his shoulder, he and his two companions turned to leave the kitchen.

His snarky tone made Lila frown and furrow her brows. Oh, this girl had no idea of the colorful range of words Prince Zuko used to describe him and his men! Comparing them to fire ferrets! Ha, the nerve of that prince! On top of a bruised ego, the man now had to deal with a servant who couldn’t even see right and didn’t know when to be quiet and simply serve! Lila watched them exit the kitchen, soft frown still intact as she cocked her head to the side.

With them gone, Lila moved the last bits of uncooked food away from the fire as she rushed to the prince’s quarters. With one hand on the wall, Lila hotfoot it through the twists and turns of the dim-lit hallways and up the main stairs. The frigid wind stung her cheeks, her servant's uniform doing nothing in keeping her warm as she speed-walked toward the command tower. However, it did help now that her hair was unrestrained, long curls shielding her arms from the nights southern cold. All but running into the tower, warmth immediately licked at her body. The fire emanating heat and light from the wall torches eased the stiffness of her shivering joints. Her relief was short-lived when she remembered that Prince Zuko’s room was still a few floors up. With a pout and a whimper, Lila began jogging the rest of the way toward her master’s room.

Once she reached his metal door, a winded Lila lifted her bandaged hand and softly knocked, a throb of pain shooting down her finger as she waited. Like usual, the gravelly voice of the prince commanded her to come in.

Using both hands, the petite girl turned the large cogwheel and pried the door open. Identical to last time, she peered into his room, took one cautious step in and hesitantly called out,

“You’ve requested my assistance, Prince Zuko?”

Mindful of the eye, Lila discreetly pushed some hair and hid it from view. The reaction of the men before told Lila it’d be better to keep her disability hidden if it was that distracting.

“Yes, come quickly. I want to be ready by the time we reach the southern water tribe.”

Judging from the clam raspy tone of voice, Lila concluded that The Prince wasn’t angry and carefully entered, closing the door behind her.

Near his meditation table, Prince Zuko stood like any fire nation soldier would with the usual scowl on his lips. As Lila inched in front of him she could already see that the straps holding his fire nation armor together were tied in all the wrong places. Being alone and in such close proximity to the brooding prince, Lila felt her nerves begin to quake. No way did she want a repeat of last time, anxiety sprouting from her chest. The tension was palpable in the room. The lack of conversation didn’t help either as she thought of what Prince Zuko and his men might do to the people living in that tribe. Though she’s never been to the northern or southern water tribe, they were still her mother’s people, thus making them part of her kin.

“Will they do what the fire nation did to my village, too? We didn’t even have the Avatar either and they still ravaged my village.”

In an attempt to silence her thoughts, Lila gingerly grabbed the chords holding the chest piece of his armor together and set to work. Her eyes trained solely on his battle wear. Cautious of her injury Lila made sure to keep her finger from touching him. Any bump or jostle hurt. Though her fingers, minus her pointer, were moving, her mind remained on the tribe's native people.

Zuko looked straight ahead as the shaky but lithe digits of the servant – Lila, was it? - untied and retied the straps in the correct places. The reason why he called for her specifically was that he figured she’d know how to do this from her years of servitude at the palace. Before his banishment, before that fateful day. As thoughts of his family started to prod the strongholds of his mind, Prince Zuko didn’t see Lila peek up at him from the side of his shoulder until he heard her low voice fill the thick quiet of his room.

“What’re you going to do to them?”

Like an arrow, sharp and precise, prince Zuko’s stare shot to her own, making Lila’s eyes widened in surprise. She expected him to be looking straight ahead if he were to answer her.

Breaking eye contact with him, Lila looked down and closed her blinded eye desperately hoping he didn’t see it as she went to fix the strings behind him. Erratic. That’s how Lila’s heartbeat felt. But yes, Zuko fully saw the milky hue of her eye. He too had a similar reaction like the three men, but not one of distaste or disgust. Just surprise, but he soon discarded what the feeling once he processed what she asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern, servant.”

Cold with an edge of warning. That’s all Lila could sense wrapped around his heated words. Especially when he said her name. Now onto the left shoulder greave, Lila peeked at him again. He was looking straight ahead, his face taut with contemplation? Lila couldn’t tell. With a beat of hesitation, she licked her lips. She could already tell he was beginning to lose patience. If she were to say another word, she didn’t doubt he’d snap. Her brain was telling her not to say anything, she was walking on thin ice that was melting fast, but her mouth felt differently.

“May I speak Prince Zuko?”

“No, you may not. Finish fixing this and go. I don’t need to hear what you have to say,” Prince Zuko snapped in restraint.

All while arguing with herself, Lila moved to squat in front of him and began tying the laces of his shin guards. She did not want to witness another fire nation attack on any village again, especially when innocent people are involved. Though she felt if she were to talk out of turn, prince Zuko would surely lose his patience and probably punish her. Besides, what could someone like her do, realistically? No one has ever listened to her. She has no voice, but still. They are my people, too. I have to try.

Opening and closing her mouth Lila fought to push the words out.

“The water tribe did nothing-”

Unnaturally warm hands cut through her sentence and seized her wrists as she was forcefully pulled up from the floor and against Prince Zuko’s armor-clad form. Strands of curls unintentionally tangling in his grasp. Chest to chest, with Zuko holding her wrists and hair between them, he glared down at Lila. Fear radiated off her body in waves. She felt way too exposed without her eye patch and a dull ache throbbed from her finger when her hands bumped against his armor. White and brown eyes flickered between golden ones before looking around the room to avoid his stare, but to no avail. Calloused fingers laced with hair firmly, but not painfully, gripped her jaw turning her face to his, thumb pressing into her cheek.

Patience completely evaporated, Prince Zuko ground out, “I told you not to speak, didn’t I?”

With shuddering breaths and petrified eyes, Lila could only nod faintly. Paralyzed by his overwhelming build the words on her tongue melted, sliding down her throat. Releasing her jaw, Prince Zuko let go of her wrists, strands of hair snagging on his fingers as he dropped his hand. Lila winced from the sudden plucks of her curls. Shaking the hair off he rubbed the bridge of his nose, shut his weary eyes and sighed,

“Finish the last shin guard and leave.”

No reply came from the young girl as she dropped and tied the shin greave. A slight tremor in her hands. Once she was done she stood up with her head hanging low.

“I’ve finished Prince Zuko, do you require anything else before I go?”

“No.”

Long hair cascaded over her shoulders as Lila bowed. Rising back up she somehow managed to calmly exit the prince’s quarters, his eyes narrowing on her retreating form the whole time. With the loud thud of his metal door closing, both Lila and Prince Zuko let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Lila had half a mind to go to uncle Iroh’s room and talk with him about what his nephew was planning to do. Talk with him about how the Prince was nothing like what Iroh describes him as but decided against it since he was most likely napping. It was hard for her to believe there was kindness in the Prince’s heart when all she’s ever seen from him was anger and rage. You could see his brutality and hate in the way he bended, too. Once she exited the command tower the sun was still hanging onto the horizon, waiting for someone to look at what it created, but a thick mist now covered the expanse of the water the ship navigated. When out of the blue, loud crackling emanated below the ship. Lila ran to the front and hunched over the edge of the railing to see what was going on.

Squinting through the mist, she saw the ship’s hull was no longer sailing on water but breaking and cracking through solid ice. Snapping her head up Lila saw the ground splitting toward the water tribe’s village! One large jagged fault traveling right through the middle of it. Prince Zuko’s ship rammed through the iced floor like it were a piece of paper. Lila couldn’t help but panic internally, they were coming extremely close to the water tribe!

“If this ship doesn’t stop we’re going to run right through!” she gasped in horror.

From what she could see in the vapory haze, the southern water tribe was quaint. A wall made of snow circled the tribe, acting as a barricade. Small igloos littered within. From behind, the sound of the Prince and his men’s shoes clanked across the deck toward the front of the ship, preparing to disembark. Anxiety, fear, and apprehension swirled within her. This scene hitting way too close to home for her liking. She never signed up for this, well she didn’t sign up for this at all, but still. The three years she’s been on this ship she never really thought about what capturing the avatar looked like or being there to see it. All Lila knew was she didn’t like where this was headed at all. The prospect of the past repeating itself right before her eyes scared her.

When she turned to watch them pass Lila’s eyes caught prince Zuko’s for a brief moment. Again, he found nervousness swimming in her stare, and again, he didn’t care.

Finally, the ship came to a halt with an ominous screech. Powerless, Lila watched with bated breath. Her eyes flitting between the native people down below and Prince Zuko’s men. She swore her heart was going to pop out of her chest from how hard it was pounding it almost hurt. Suddenly the hull of the ship dropped, turning into a makeshift ramp, a loud thud resonating in the air. The ship's metal easily overpowered the tribe's barrier, the snow crumbling as it gave into its weight.

Faintly Lila could hear a feminine voice yelling for someone to get out of the way. The shrill scream making Lila’s heart drop and then kick up in speed, assuming the worst. It felt like her feet were bolted to the floor as she helplessly watched the Prince and his firebenders disembark the ship. Visibly shaking, Lila leaned over the front of the ship again to see, legs feeling like they were going to give out any moment.

From her spot, she could see Prince Zuko and his guards disembarking and a young water tribe boy with war paint coating his tanned skin, belt out a war-like cry as he charged up the ramp at Prince Zuko. The boy’s weapon of choice, a water tribe club, raised high over his head. He was easily overtaken. Lila winced when the Prince’s leg side swept the boy's club out of his hand, then kicked him in the face, sending the boy flying off the side of the ramp and into the snow. Lila could hear Iroh’s voice in the back of her head talking about how he knew his nephew wasn’t as corrupted as his other family members, but what she was seeing now proved otherwise. He was unlike what Iroh always tried to tell her. The Prince was brutal.

Zuko continued walking down the ship as if nothing happened. His steps were powerful and determined. The people of the tribe huddled up in one big group, trepidation and terror embedded in all of their blue eyes. With the men of the village off to war, Zuko was unsurprised to see the ones that remained were the women and children, except for the war-painted boy if you’d count him as a man. However, the longer no one spoke the more time was wasted in capturing the Avatar. The silence was so tense Lila felt it up on the ship. Zuko stopped in front of the crowd, his eyes sizing up each woman and child until his glare stopped on this one girl holding onto the arm of an elderly lady.

“Where are you hiding him?”

When no one spoke, both Lila and the young girl gasped when the banished Prince roughly pulled the elderly lady from the girl’s grasp.

“He’d be about this age? Master of all four elements?” Zuko demanded, shaking the woman by her for emphasis.

Again, no one answered him, they were all stunned in silence and fright. After a beat of quiet, Prince Zuko carelessly shoves the old woman back into the young girl’s arms. Both water tribe women gasping. Lila watches worriedly, praying up above that this village will be spared from the fire nation’s fury. Even from the ship, Lila saw the Prince tense up in frustration and knew what he was going to do next and whispered “no,” as he launched a wave of fire inches above the villager's heads. The women and children screamed and cowered before him.

“I know you’re hiding him!”

Below her, Lila saw the water tribe boy free himself from the snowy confines he was kicked into, the majority of his face free of paint as he picked up his club and ran at Zuko once more with another loud battle cry. At the last second, Zuko turned toward the annoyingly loud boy and dodges the boy’s attack, flipping him over his head when he swiped at the Prince. When he hit the ground Zuko punched another blistering fireball at him. Luckily, the tanned boy gathers himself rolling away from the blast, swiftly retrieving a boomerang that was strapped to his back and throws it at the Fire Lord’s son. It surprised both Lila and Zuko with how fast and strong he threw it, the air whistling as it narrowly missed the Prince’s face. Even where Lila was standing the boomerang would’ve whacked her in the face if she didn’t duck in time. All the while her eye followed the boomerang’s path. The boy was stronger than he looked.

“Even without bending,” Lila hopefully thought, “he’s handling himself well against the Prince. Maybe…this village won’t be ransacked.”

A growl erupts from the Crown Prince’s throat before he can shoot more fire at the irritating boy who just won’t quit, a little water tribe child cries out,

“Show no fear!” Throwing a fishing spear made of bone at his opponent. Again, he charged at Zuko, the spear positioned like he was going to run him through, but the Prince was prepared. “He lacks training,” Zuko gathered, easily breaking the spear in half with his wrist guards. He then snatched the bone rod from the boy’s hands, poking him repeatedly in the head with the butt of it until he fell on his bottom, and broke it in half again before throwing it to the ground.

On the ship, Lila’s eye followed the boomerang as it curled back around and headed back to the owner who threw it. With her eyes still on the weapon, she gradually turned and watched it spin at dizzying speed before it slammed into the back of Prince Zuko’s helmet with a loud thwack. Her eyebrows quirked in surprise as she wondered if the water tribe boy planned for that to happen, but her face fell when she saw the Prince standing menacingly over the boy’s fallen form. Fire jet out from his tightly clenched fists, the orange embers creating a dagger-like weapon.  

For a moment, Lila feared for what Prince Zuko would do to him, but surprise quickly overtook her as another younger boy, maybe about twelve or so, with a bald head and peculiar clothing zoomed through the middle of the fight out of nowhere riding on the back of a penguin. In the child’s hands was a staff as the penguin flew right under Zuko’s feet, sweeping his legs out from under him. The young servant girl gasped when the Prince fell over, the village children cheering for the child all the while. The said child sped past the kids sending up a wave of snow splattering them all in the face, their cheers ceasing for a moment at the unexpected smattering, but continued yelling anyway. At this point, as much as Lila was concerned over the fate of the water tribe, she didn’t know if it was morally okay for her to laugh at the ridiculousness of what just happened.

Still, relief filled her heart knowing that Prince Zuko’s plan of capturing the Avatar wasn’t going according to plan. No village, town, citadel, or nation should be destroyed in finding the Avatar. Her heart and mind were conflicted. Although she did want the Prince’s banishment to end, she didn’t think this was the right way of doing it. She remembered the stories her father told her about Fire Lord Sozin killing all the airbenders to find and end the Avatar cycle.

Briefly, Lila faintly heard the kid happily greet the boy and girl, their names being ‘Katara’ and ‘Sokka’, with Sokka dryly thanking the child, who she heard him call ‘Aang’, for coming. Lila’s eyes flicker between Prince Zuko and Aang, both of them assuming a defensive fighting stance as Zuko’s men circle Aang, closing in on him. Suddenly the kid swings his staff, and with each swing, he sends snow at the guards blowing them away. With the Prince being the last one standing Aang sends another blast of snow at him, but he was unmoved, uncle Iroh’s firebending lessons paying off.

“Looking for me?”

Processing everything the child managed to do in under ten seconds, Lila’s brows furrowed. He managed to disarm and beat all of Prince Zuko’s men like it was nothing just by throwing snow at them. At first, she thought he was a waterbender but he didn’t move like one. His fighting style was different from what her mother tried to teach her and different from what she’s seen earthbenders and firebenders do. It was unlike anything she’s ever seen. On top of that, the arrow on his head and the unusual choice of clothing he wore was vastly unfamiliar from the clothes in her hometown and the fire nation. Her eyes widened in realization. No, this child couldn’t be- Prince Zuko voiced her incredulity, the snow Aang bent at him melting off his shoulders and fists, “You’re the airbender? You’re the Avatar?”

~

A/N: OKAYYYYY!!! Just so you know I want you guys to keep Zuko’s “Contemplation?” face in mind. There’s a few things I want you guys to catch in part 2. Sorry if it was slow paced. I hope you enjoyed it and please excuse any grammatical errors. Have a blessed day! Chapter three may come later cuz I have a zuko request I want to write!

Taglist (If i missed anyone PLEASE let me know :))

@bangtanboyswriting123 @bookedforevermore @agentsofblinks @lilmou5ie @eury-dice3 @shephard17895 @duh-dobrik @yourlivewire @luleck @oraclebirds

[mrs-hatake]

A Promise Whispered to The Sea (Preview + Sneak Peak)

Summary: When she thought it was over, one man taught her that when something beautiful ends, it’s simply an opportunity to start a new beginning. 

Pairings: starts off as Ace x OFC and ends with Law x OFC

OFC Info:

Name: Newgate Mamiko

Age: 20

Devil Fruit Power: Chlorokinesis, is the ability to mentally and/or physically summon, control and manipulate plants and vegetation.

A/N: So, i got inspired for this fic while watching one piece and it honestly just created itself. I’ll start writing it soon but idk when i’ll be able to post it since i’m waiting for my best friend to finish with her exams so that she can be my beta reader :D

Here’s a sneak peak for the fic!

The sound of the ship sailing through the sea was a soft melody to Mamiko’s ears, soothing and distracting.

It was late in the night and it was just the young pirate and the stars out tonight. The rest of Whitebeard pirates were sound asleep after a long day of fighting off one of the navy ships that thought that they had a chance winning against Edward Newgate and capturing some of his crew. Naturally, they were defeated but they put up a good enough fight to sour the captain’s mood for the rest of the day.

The wind blew gently against her short white hair, sending a shiver down Mamiko’s spine. She tightened her flimsy shawl around herself for warmth.

It was one of those nights where she couldn’t fall asleep despite trying the usual remedies that helped her on nights like these. But tonight, her anxiety was on a high and it invaded her mind with thoughts of impending doom.

Mamiko shook her head, her white hair swooshing softly, as an image of her family all laying in a pool of their own blood, eyes and mouths wide open in horror and pain. The Whitebeard pirates were one of the strongest pirates in all of Grand Line, they were practically undefeated, but just flirting with the idea of everyone dying made her heart falter and stop for three seconds before beating again.

“Mamiko?”

The gentle call of her name startled her out of her daze. She jumped slightly in surprise and turned to face the intruder.

“What are you doing out here so late?” Ace asked curiously with a look of concern, “Aren’t you freezing dressed like that?” Eating the Fire Fire Devil Fruit meant that Ace couldn’t feel the chilly wind but that doesn’t mean he didn’t notice Mamiko shivering in her nightgown.

“I can’t sleep.” Mamiko replied quietly and turned away from Ace to stare at the ocean.

She didn’t turn when Ace shuffled forward and stood close to her, his shoulders lightly brushing against hers.

“What’s wrong?” Ace asked just as quietly.

“Nothing.” She replied quickly.

Ace just shrugged, respecting her privacy. He knew that Mamiko tended to be quiet when she was deep in thought or something was distressing her. And through the years, he learned that being persistent wasn’t the answer for Mamiko to speak about whatever it was that was troubling her. So, he decided to wait until she felt ready to answer.

“It’s just…” She began slowly, frustration bubbling inside of her as she didn’t know what to say exactly. Her thoughts running around wildly and freely in her head, making it difficult for her to voice out a coherent thought. It was annoying that she was feeling anxious for the past couple of days. Worrying and stressing over unknown future that she knew perfectly well wouldn’t happen. But ever since Marshall D. Teach had killed Thatch and her father allowed Ace to hunt and kill the man, she had sensed an inevitable doom awaiting her and the rest of her family.

“I don’t like this.” She replied lamely, sighing in frustration as she ran her fingers through her short locks.

Ace patiently waited until Mamiko gathered her thoughts, watching her every move and expression as she struggled to come up with ways to organize her thoughts and voice them into proper words.

“Ever since this whole incident with Marshall and you wanting to hunt down the, I’ve had this bad feeling. Like…like something very bad is going to happen to us. Soon. I don’t know what, I don’t know why and I don’t know when but I know it will happen.” Mamiko finished with a shaky exhale.

Ace took it all in. Aware of how Mamiko everted her purple eyes, not meeting his and the small frown stretched upon her lips.

“This isn’t my first hunt and kill, Mamiko.”

“I know that!” She didn’t mean to snap, it just happened. “You’re strong, Ace, I know. But I feel like…” Finally, the young pirate turned to face Ace and made eye contact with the man before her, “Like I won’t ever see you again.”

Ace’s eyes subtly widened at the stormy sea of emotions brewing in Mamiko’s eyes. Fear, worry, frustration and love. The expression on her usual smug face was something Ace rarely saw. It chocked him.

“Hey,” Ace cupped her cheeks with his dry and rough hands, “I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered before leaning in to peck her forehead.

“How do I know that?”

“Because I’m Portgas D. Ace!” His bright grin did nothing to reassure Mamiko and knowing this, Ace’s shoulders sagged and he let out a sigh.

“Seriously though,” His fingers began to caress her cheeks, wiping a stray tear that stopped just above her mole that Ace loved so much, “I’ll make sure nothing happens. I’ll go to Alabasta, meet with the man who supposedly fought Marshall and if he’s still alive, I’ll kill him and come back, to you.” He had a small smile on his lips this time. The confidence in his voice calmed her down a little bit but there still was a nagging voice at the back of her head.

“Come, let’s go back inside.” His big hands slid down her shoulders to take hold of her smaller, yet equally rough, hands, “It’s getting late and we should sleep. You know how our captain doesn’t like it when we sleep in.”

A smile finally tugged on Mamiko’s lips as she allowed for Ace to pull her towards their shared bedroom.

Perhaps it really was nothing. Just some anxiety from sailing out at sea and not having been on land for months. Could be that Mamiko was just bored and was stressing over nothing really. She could never know.

So tonight, she allowed herself to relax in Ace’s warm embrace and be swept away by his gentle kisses and soft whispers of sweet nothings.

[sparklingpax]

Tales From Iacon - Part 2: Intentions

A/N: 

-Part one can be found here and I also have a wattpad where I’m posting updates as well as other stories! (user is @/kunixjiro)

-Idk if this was an appropriate title for this part but the idea was that they both had their own intentions and well....you can see how it turned out.

-Sorry if this is badly written (and for any typos, mistakes, weird phrasings, etc)

-Also sorry that this is long af O//O’’

-This part isn’t so fluffy ^^’’ But dw I promise I’ll resolve everything in time....anyway, hopefully nothing got too ooc or anything! Enjoy!! <3

///

It was no secret that Megatronus was a gladiator.

He was not ashamed or afraid to admit his purpose—to kill both beast and bot alike.

For the entertainment of the crowds, and in accordance with Cybertron’s corrupt caste system. 

            Such a life was a choice he’d made long ago, when he rose up from the mines and cast away the life of a meaningless energon miner. With it, he’d cast away a name given to him—a name which held no meaning anyway.

             D-16 was no more—he was Megatronus now.

///

            The wild cheering of the crowds invigorated Megatronus, fueling his drive to utterly mutilate the monster hulking before him. All he could think of was the desire to fight stronger and harder than ever before—to show off his power so he could bask in the glory of the hundreds all around calling his name.

             “Megatronus! Megatronus! Megatronus!”

               The deafening roar of the onlookers filled his audio receptors, causing Megatronus to grin wildly, and the injured monster to bellow in terror. It stumbled forward hastily, only for Megatronus to dodge and deal another blow with his sword. Much to the delight of the crowd, the beast cried out in pain and reared up to attack Megatronus again.

             There was no fear as Megatronus gazed into the black eyes of the beast, lit only with primal rage. They bored into him for only a moment before it shook its head and charged.

             Call my name! Call it louder—shout it to the skies, Cybertronians!  

             He stood in battle stance, breathing hard but not yet tired. Bright lights all around blazed down on his plating, making the grey and burgundy glow as silver and red. His optics were alight with a wild look, as if he knew the battle was over and victory was in his very grasp.

             Megatronus tossed away his shield, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter. He released a savage cry and charged right at the monster. Screams of excitements and fear sounded from every angle as he neared the gaping jaws of his opponent.

             The gladiator swung the sword and neatly sliced off half of the grey tongue that greedily reached out at him. The monster instantly recoiled, writhing in pain. Blue blood sprayed everywhere. The warm, sticky liquid showered Megatronus as he slid the weapon into its holder at his hip.

             He paid no mind to it, for he had known the tongue would bleed the most.

             Megatronus took a running leap off the dirt and landed on the back of the beast. With his own servos, he grabbed its snout and yanked it towards him, bending its neck backwards to injure it further. It tried to swing him off, but Megatronus stabbed his sword into its body. The crowd collectively shrieked with anticipation upon seeing the legs of the monster buckle beneath him.  

             Before it could scream in pain again, he vaulted off its body to the side, twisting its neck with a fatal, sickening crack. There was a brief, abrupt silence while the monster moaned more quietly, attempting to move. It crumpled inward with a low huff.

               A pool of energon gushed out from its wounds, soiling the ground around it as Megatronus backed away to watch it die. He grinned with pure delight—breathing heavily, limbs quivering with exhaustion—at his work. Only seconds later, the beast went totally limp.

               It was done.

             The volume of the crowd was loud enough to sound as if the whole of Cybertron had packed into the small stadium.

              Megatronus was victorious again.

             He felt pride and joy rush through him as he raised his sword and cried out to the masses before him.

              “I AM MEGATRONUS, KING OF THE PITS OF KAON!!!”

             “Megatronus! Megatronus! Megatronus! Megatronus! ”

             “I AM LIVING PROOF THAT ONE DECIDES HIS OWN DESTINY!!”

               Hundreds packed together in the seats raised their servos and shouted as loud as they could, amazed by the skill of the gladiator before them, and filled with inspiration. Megatronus felt something warm in his spark, for he knew Orion was one of the many voices.

               There was no disputing it now, D-16 was truly no more.

///

             Outside the arena’s seating, there was a dimly lit, blue corridor. Various clumps of bots milled around there. Some were making their way out from the seats, conversating excitedly about the fighting, or were making their way back in. Others stayed outside for whatever reason they had. A quiet murmuring filled the space, contrasting greatly from the deafening roar of the arena.

             Orion Pax had his back up against the wall, breathing hard. He tried to steady his breath, attempting to erase the images of the brutal murdering of that beast from his mind.

             He had never seen anything so violent in his whole life.

             Orion couldn’t bear it a second longer, hearing the crowd cheer hungrily for the monster to suffer more, and chanting all the louder for its death. All of it had felt so…wrong. For a second, he had wondered if everyone in there had lost their senses. Surely a society of civilized people wouldn’t bee chanting for the death of a living, breathing creature? Or will it to be tortured?

             And yet…they were.

             He had slipped out to regain himself a little, and decided he’d return to his place when the act was finished. At least, if Orion didn’t watch some of the real fight, he’d see the aftermath. After all, Megatronus had invited Orion as a…somewhat esteemed guest. It was only fair that Orion, too, should raise his voice to cheer his friend on.

              I’m here for Megatronus.

             I’m here because he invited me.

             I’m…here to…support him….

             His stomach turned upon thoughts of what he was doing to the creature at the moment. He heard a loud roar of pain and the noise of the crowd increased greatly. Orion shook his head and slid down to a sitting position.

              I’ll…I’ll wait here until it sounds like it’s over…or else….I just might purge…

///

             “So then, Soundwave,” Megatronus shook hands with the quiet mech and nodded. “I’ll be off. I’m meeting someone now. We can speak again tomorrow, if you like.”

             Soundwave nodded, then turned and left. Megatronus watched him go, interest dancing vaguely in his gaze.  

              What an interesting bot, being so quiet and yet saying so much.

              The gladiator was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion, and it seemed the adrenaline that had pushed him through the fight was finally fading. With a small grunt, Megatronus stumbled and fell against the corridor’s wall for support. To Megatronus’ frustration, his legs were tremoring a little. He let out a sigh, straightening again after a moment with a small wince.  

             I suppose I…expended a bit too much of my energy today…

             He still felt pride and joy in his victory.

             Even still, all my efforts were worth it. I stand alive once more.

             “Good evening, Megatronus!”

             Orion’s voice reached Megatronus before he sighted his friend at the other end of the corridor. Orion picked up pace and jogged down the hall to meet him.

             Megatronus immediately felt his exhaustion dissipate.

             Orion had seen the fight!

             He was eager to know what Orion had thought of it all. He knew it Orion’s first time seeing something as graphic and epic as this.

             But more than that, Megatronus was eager to know what Orion thought of him. Battle brought out his truest form, and that form was Megatronus’ greatest pride. Having somewhat of an ego, Megatronus knew that deep down, all he needed to keep going was some sort of praise.  

             After all, who wouldn’t? Validation is a beautiful thing, especially in one’s own art. 

             “Orion, it brought me much joy to know you could make it tonight!” He and Orion shook servos and greeted one another, then started slowly back up the hall so they could leave the building. Megatronus continued, “How unfortunate you could not have seen me last week, when I, with great fervor, slayed—”

             He paused, sensing Orion tense up next to him and look away.

             Odd.  

             “Never mind. Anyway, you are usually too busy with your studies or your work. How is it that you came tonight?” Orion sighed.

             “My apologies. I hope to be a master archivist one day, and full commitment to my studies is essential for me to reach that goal.” He looked up at the sky speckled with thousands of stars and smiled. Shifting his gaze to Megatronus, who was listening intently, he nodded. “I did get time off tonight, though. I have Alpha Trion to thank for that.”

             Megatronus patted him on the back.

             They continued through the quiet streets of Kaon—well, the backstreets, to be specific. Megatronus knew how ugly the main streets could get with all the crazy bots running around at night. He wanted no part in it tonight as long as Orion was with him.

             And Orion is no fighter.

             “Megatronus, uhm…” Orion’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked a little nervous. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I…I hope you can be patient with me.”

             “What?”

             “You might feel offended.” Orion tried elaborating. Megatronus, however, was not following. “I am only asking that if you are mad, that you don’t take it out on someone else…or that you can understand what my reasoning was.”

             Offended? It made little sense. Yet his friend remained tense, and would not meet his gaze. Megatronus immediately felt guilty. Have I said something wrong?

             “Orion, I do not understand what it is you refer to!” He picked up his pace, trying to think of changing the subject. He so desperately wanted to know about what Orion had thought of his battle with the monster!  

             “About the fight tonight…” Orion’s gaze dropped to the ground and he halted. Megatronus, who had walked a few paces ahead, stopped and turned. Oh, he read my mind. How funny; I was just about to ask!

              “Listen, Orion, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not—”

              “I had to leave halfway through the fight. I…” He slowly lifted his gaze to meet his friend’s. As he’d suspected, the beginnings of frustration had already begun to spark into it. He mustered all his confidence to finish. “I waited in the hall because I couldn’t take anymore of the violence…or the bloodthirsty crowd. It…did not feel right at all.”

              An uncomfortable silence weighed on the pair.

              At last, Megatronus turned away and sighed quietly, breaking the silence. Orion felt guilt and embarrassment to the depths of his spark. He opened his mouth to say more, then thought it better not to. He figured Megatronus would have something to say to him.

             “So…that’s it?” Disappointment was fully evident in his voice, causing Orion’s spark to twist more. Megatronus turned back to his friend and moved closer. His hands were folded behind his back. Orion swallowed.

             My intentions were to be honest, but I fear I have taken an imprudent course of action…

             Orion decided not to voice the thought. Instead, he quietly responded, “Yes.”

             “I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’m…very hurt, Orion.” Megatronus kept his voice level as he gazed into the archivist’s eyes, yet Orion could still hear dejection in its tone.

             He realized he had to fix this.  

             But how? What do I say? Orion Pax, you foolish child!! He scorned himself internally.

             “I am sorry, Megatronus. I understand that words will do no good, but for the moments I was there, your courage in the face of the beast was admirable.” Megatronus looked away. Indignance and annoyance welled up inside him.

              He’s probably making it up.

             “And that is the honest truth.”

             Orion looked earnest.

             He also looked and sounded guilty.

              Is it? Or are you telling me what I want to hear? Why did you come if you knew you couldn’t stand violence and a crowd’s wildness? Orion, you anger me…or rather…

             Megatronus then remembered his friend’s quiet plea for peace and patience beforehand. To lash out at him would wound their friendship forever, and give Orion the wrong impression of Megatronus. All that aside, Megatronus realized he…felt no anger towards his friend. The heated emotions faded, quickly replaced by pangs of rejection.

             …such is my fate, being a lower-caste bot raised in blood, darkness and cold steel. Of course Orion does not find it beautiful, and I should not have forced him to witness such things.

             It seemed they would have to allow time to do its work.

             Megatronus began to walk away, saying nothing more. Orion called after him, but received no reply. His friend disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving Orion feeling guilty and ashamed.

              I won the battle, but I now feel…defeat.

              Megatronus felt exhaustion creep back into his limbs.

///

             On his way out of the city, Orion paid no attention to the tranquil, moonlit nature around him. He was instead lost in thought.

             Had I said nothing, I’d have lied.

             He shook his head.

             I can’t lie. I won’t lie. I know it would have come out eventually, and he would still be hurt. 

             A pang of sadness twisted his spark again. 

             Why couldn’t I bear it even for his sake? It is because I do not understand it that I fear it, I know. But...it is his joy...his art....and I was not there for him.

             As he reached a train station, Orion still did not have any real thoughts in mind as he punched in the location for his ticket.

             When the train arrived, Orion boarded and sat by the window.

             I realize now that my intentions were faulted. It would have been better to stay quiet, becuase then I would not have hurt him.

             He closed his eyes.

             Time will have to heal this wound.

[moreaugriffins]

Tiredness and hallucinations

idk wtf this is either. it was a short story I wrote sometime last year for Silas, and decided why not post it? No spoilers in it, I think, everything’s rather vague.. I think I actually wrote this when hella sleep deprived lmao, so suits the piece I suppose

He leant against the bedroom door, closing his eyes for just a split second, almost falling for the siren calls of sleep. It felt so tempting, after weeks of barely anything, to lay down and be swept away to a dreamland for however many glorious hours, until the others wake him, but he knows better than to give in. After all these years, he knows better than to listen to those false calls. No dream he has is ever sweet, they are nightmares that leave him shaking, in a cold sweat, and unable to breathe. It’s like he’s dying all over again. Silas opens his eyes immediately after, willing himself to stand up. He wobbles, maybe because he was drunk or exhausted or both, and slowly makes his way to the desk, where he leans on it to stabilize himself. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he needed to do something to keep himself awake. Blinking a few times to let his eyes focus, his eyes landed on an open letter on the desk. Silas reckoned that he was meant to write a response, but hadn’t gotten around to it, due to the hectic turn his life has made. Mainly for the worse. He tried to remember who the letter was from, but his mind pulled a blank. “Perhaps you need to sleep.” Silas whipped his head around, trying to find who spoke, but saw nobody. He tensed up, remembering something about gods and deities being able to communicate telepathically, but their voice would've been unfamiliar.. This one he recognised.. “I don’t remember you struggling this much to sleep on our journeys.” journeys? What do they mean by journeys? Silas shook his head, letting out a quiet sigh. Often the thoughts in his head were violently self destructive, and his own. He doesn’t remember a time where he heard another person’s voice, especially someone he knows. Maybe it was a hallucination from his lack of sleep? Fuck if he knows. Just another thing that makes him more insane. Silas doesn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. “It’s going to be ok Silas. Get some sleep, you are in dire need of it.” “I can’t.” his words slurred more than he would’ve liked them to. “Why not?” “You’re.. In my fuckin’ head, you should know.” He felt the small flickers of anger light inside, but he was too tired to truly feel the frustration. The voice went quiet for a moment, as Silas, after being hit with a wave of dizziness, pulled out the desk chair and slumped down into it. “It might serve in your best interests to talk about your problems.” “Why?” “They say a problem shared is a problem halved.” “Don’t think that counts if i’m talkin’ to myself.” “My dearest Silas…” His heart wrenched, as if he had longed to hear them say those words, yet the words sounded so foreign. “I’m scared.” He admitted, trying to focus on the popcorn ceiling, instead of the fact that he was actually conversing with the voice, like a lunatic,”I’m scared because when i close my eyes.. I’ll be back there.. I’ll relive those moments, again and again and again. I can’t escape it.” “What hurt you so badly?” Silas felt his eyes starting to water. He tried to blink back the tears. “I can’t say it..” “Even now, you can’t bring yourself to say it? How long has it been?” Silas sighed,”a decade.. I’ve never had the chance to.. Heal, I suppose...” “Why did you never talk to me?” He frowned for a second, confused,”real me.” That made more sense.. He knew the answer, and he’s sure the voice did too. It’s for the same reason as most things he does- “Because it was best for you not to know.. I was afraid that if you knew,  you’d hate me, and i couldn't deal with that,” because Silas loved him. Silas loved this man with all his heart but knew he was too scarred for him.. The man would be scared off, breaking his heart, and Silas couldn’t deal with that. The real silas was unlovable, but only wished to be loved. “You’re so silly sometimes, my dear. I would never have..” “Doesn’t matter. You're a hallucination made by my brain, of course you’d say that.” He sniffed, wiping away the few tears that had escaped. “That may be true, but i am still here for you. For however long, until we meet again.” “Not as romantic as you thought it sounded..” “Suppose not..” Silas let his eyes close for a lingering moment, taking in a deep breath. He missed the sound of the man’s voice, but he missed the man more, the real him. Listening and conversing with this version of him.. Well it’s not even him.. It didn’t feel like the right thing to do. He wondered though.. If the comforting thought that he was there with him.. If that may make the nightmares less horrific. “Please stay.. Just tonight.. Just so i can sleep.” “Of course. I’ll protect you from whatever horrors lay in your dreams.” Silas smiled slightly, closing his eyes for the last time, that night.

[asphalt-cocktail]

Kinkmas Prompt #14: Cock Warming

A/N: Guys I had a really exhausting day today and if my writing doesn’t 100% project my feelings rn idk what does. Anyways, I hope you all like it, its super soft and cuddly, also I’ve never written cock warming before??? So let me know how it went! If you would like to request a prompt and character yourself please reference my Kinkmas masterpost.

Pairing: Warren Worthington x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, SOFT, fluff, smut, injury, mentions of blood and fighting, probably some allusions to being kidnapped/imprisoned, asshole men, cock warming, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), unmentioned mutation,

Kinkmas 2019 Masterlist

General Masterlist

Asks

If you are considered a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

Your muscles ached as you found yourself waking up pressed against the cool ground. A harsh voice pulling you from your slumber “Wake up!” It barked, jabbing a stiff boot harshly into your side.

You winced and hissed at the pain, “I can’t fight anymore tonight.” You said struggling to stand up.

A man in a uniform reminiscent to the military roughly grabbed your elbow and pulled you to your feet, “We’ve got something better for you.” He said letting go of you.

Your knees buckled under you, you were weak after having gone and won five rounds in the cage. They allowed you a break from your last fight because you were ‘making too much of a mess bleeding everywhere,’ that’s when you found yourself tossed into a cold dark cell and locked behind bars. Typically, you could hold your own in a cage fight, but this time your opponent had been significantly larger than you and had a strength enhancing mutation leaving you totally blind sided.

The guard pushed into your back with the barrel of his gun, the cold metal digging into your skin and pushed you forward, your mind was still hazed over with a sleep and exhaustion induced fog, “We need you to keep the Champ from tonight company.” He said giving you a wink that churned your stomach.

You felt bile stinging the back of your throat as you pushed it down, now over come with far “No!” You said harshly and turned to push past him. After a brief and weak struggle, you found the guards strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you kicking and screaming down the hall “Let me go!” You yelled trying to fight despite you weakened state. You would never let one of these sleezy men use you like that, over your dead body.

“You’ll have to kill me before I do anything with whatever pig you’ve got me lined up for.” You hissed, scratching at the arm that firmly gripped you.

The guard chuckled “I’ll leave that up to him.” He said, reaching to unlock the door before pushing you in and shutting it behind you.

You fell to your knees and scrambled up, running towards the door only to hear the lock on the outside click.

Locked in.

You looked around the room, it was nicer than the one you had but still shitty as far as living conditions went. It had a couch, an actual bed, a few books and records strewn about, and even a back room that you assumed was the bathroom. You continued to scope the room in a desperate attempt to find some where to hide. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as your breathing and heart rate increased, your panicked eyes darting around the room.

Moments passed and you found yourself with your knees pulled up against your chest sitting on the side of a dresser near the corner of the room, hopefully concealed by the shadows. You pressed your body against the wall and held your breath once you heard the shuffle of heavy footsteps coming into the main living area.

“I know you’re in here.” The voice sounded gruff, “Come on.”

You weighed your options, you could either A: go out and face him head on, or A: remain hiding in the shadows. Despite your urge to fight your brain settled with B, while your body was pumping with adrenaline your muscles screamed with your every move.

The footsteps padded around the room in search of you before a large, wide shadow loomed over you. You pressed yourself closer against the wooden dresser an pulled your knees tighter against you. A long feathery wing came into view and lowered as the man who held then knelt down, getting eye to eye with you.

He couldn’t have been much older than you, just barely twenty you guessed, his brows looked as though they were permanently furrowed with frustration, but his eyes were a surprisingly bright blue color and his chest was bare and scarred.

“Angel,” Your voice was soft and hoarse. He had horror stories about him in the ring, often going over 10 rounds before they pulled him simply just to shake up the predictability of a fight.

He winced at the sound of his fighting name and sat on the floor across from you; his wings relaxed at his sides, the feathers lightly gracing the floor. “Warren, please.” He looked away, avoiding eye contact.

You frowned and began to sputter an apology before you were interrupted, his hand reached up to cup your face and you winced, pulling away instinctively from his touch, he let out a soft ‘sshh’ to calm your skittish nerves “’M not gonna do anything.” He calmly spoke.

Your breathing hitched in your throat as you felt his warm, rough hand cup your face, the pads of his thumb lightly ghosting over the swollen bruise on your cheek. You hissed out and winced in pain before he pulled away “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He asked.

You were surprised by his softness but accepted the hand he stretched out to you and allowed him to pull you from the ground, leading you into the bathroom. It was nice, nicer than what you had. There was a toilet, sink, and full shower and back. Just like you used to have before you were quite literally thrown into cage fighting.

Warren put the lid of the toilet seat down and motioned for you to sit which you promptly followed, “He grabbed an old and worn washcloth and wet it in the sink before pressing it against the patches of dried blood and dirt that had crusted to your face. You sighed against the warmth, you hadn’t been touched this kindly in what felt like ages. He pulled away, frowning, “I’m sorry,” He started before rinsing and ringing out the rag before going back to cleaning the muck and grime off your face, “That you got sent here.” He added, swallowing thickly.

You shook your head “It’s okay,” You added, it really wasn’t okay but then again it wasn’t either of your faults you ended up in this situation.

When Warren pulled away, you found yourself leaning in for more of his soft touch only to frown when he began to leave, “You can use the bathroom to clean up if you’d like.” He said and pulled out a worn-out towel from a shelf, “You look like you went a few too many rounds tonight.” He added with a small laugh.

You nodded your head and sheepishly looked away, “Can…” You tried to find your voice, “Can you stay with me?” You asked playing with the hem of your shirt.

Warren nodded his head, “Yeah,” He said before walking towards the shower and turning on the faucet and letting the water run. He plugged the tub, assuming you would want a bath considering you could hardly stand without wincing or walk without a limp. You adjusted the temperature to your liking and started to undress, letting out small gasps as your muscles ached with your movements. Warren’s face flushed pink when you asked him to help you into the tub, but he agreed, averting his eyes to allow you some modesty.

The water stung your open cuts but soothed your aching muscles and bones. The contrasting feeling causing a content sigh to escape your lips. You couldn’t remember the last time you properly bathed, it felt nice to be enveloped by warm water once again. After you bathed you felt refreshed even wrapped up in this raggedy old towel, Warren laid on his bed, his wings comfortably spread out underneath him. You stood on the side of the bed shifting nervously, still wrapped in your towel and damp.

Warren flashed you a clever smirk and patted the side, “I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor, come on.” He said moving to make room.

You felt your face flush before you nervously slipped onto the bed, laying atop the sheets. Your curled into yourself, your damp towel and wet skin doing nothing to keep you warm in the dark and cool room. You let out a small yelp, feeling Warren’s arm pull you onto his chest, his wings wrapping around you. His feathers tickled your skin lightly, they were soft and proved to be a good barrier against the cold.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face into the crook of your shoulder. The two of you held each other tightly, for fear that you would never get a chance to be this close to someone again. But you still craved a closeness that hadn’t been achieved yet. Your arms wrapped tighter and tighter around him, pulling you flush against him and not cheek to cheek.

Warren’s chest rumbled with a deep laugh, “Christ you’re going to choke me if you keep that up.” He said straining against your surprisingly strong grip.

You loosened your arms, “Sorry,” You muttered into his shoulder, “I- I just,” You struggled to gather your thoughts “I just want to be close.” Your voice cracked with emotion.

Swallowing thickly Warren glanced down at you with a sympathetic expression, “I… well,” he chewed on his lip in ponderous thought “we… we can’t get closer, unless we -uh- well you know.” He struggled to articulate. Both of your faces flushed at his suggestion, “I mean we don’t have to actually do anything.” He quickly added, “It can just be inside… I guess.”

The cogs in your brain turned as you pieced together his poorly worded sentence, the thought of laying together so intimately caused your walls to clench, “Okay, we can try it.” You said and licked your lips nervously.

Warren had managed to slip his pants and boxers off with out much of a fuss leaving the two of you bare. You sat up and sank down on his half hard length and let out a shaky breath as you felt him stretch your walls. His brows furrowed and he let out a needy whine, struggling to control himself. You leaned forward and allowed his arms and wings to wrap firmly around you once again while the two of you shuttered with each one of your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck held Warren tight against you as he kept one hand firmly anchored around your waist with the other stroking lazily up and down your back. It felt surprisingly nice to be held and as close as humanly possible to someone, even if that someone was all but a stranger to you.

Soon Warren’s hand was running his fingers through your damp hair, lightly scratching against your scalp. You shifted, causing his hips to lightly buck against you, you gasped, and Warren muttered out a strangled apology. His arms squeezed you lightly against him and the heat radiating off his body was unimaginable.

Your breath was ragged as he held you close, neither of you dared to move, the threat of what might happen looming over and hoping to tempt either one of you to finally break. You sat up slightly to see him, your faces close and mouths just barely touching before he cupped your face and pulled you into a soft kiss. You moaned into his tender touches causing your hips to lightly rock against his own. You both pulled away and hissed from the pleasure erupting from your small movements and rested your forehead on Warren’s. Your noses touched as the two of you continued to make little and slow movements with your hips. Soft and needy whines escaped your mouth as you lazily moved against him, your slow languid motions both fulfilling and leaving the two of you wanting more.

Your walls clenched around Warren’s cock and he bucked his hips sharply against you, causing you to throw your head back and cry out. His suddenly wings unfurled and spread out on either side of him, fluffed with excitement. Warren sharply bucked his hips into you again, the skin lightly smacking together, and you planted your hands on his chest, arching your back as you let out a deep wanton moan.

Your hands remained splayed out against his scarred and defined chest as he began to pick up the pacing of his thrusts, pumping into you in a rhythmic fashion. You knew neither one of you would last long, taking the hints from your needy touches.

You sat up, proper, and rolled your hips against his, Warren gripping your hips and grinding you down onto him as your walls pulsated around him and threw your head back letting the waves of pleasure wash over you. Warren soon followed, pulling you close against his chest, his hips writhing against yours as he grunted and released inside you.

The two of you stilled in your post orgasm exhaustion and held each other listening to one another’s labored breaths.

[straykidz888]

Insomnia

Gif by huiracha! (I still cant figure out how to tag it from the post, I’m so bad with technology 😂)

A/N: so this was based off a dream I had and I am literally such a bad writer so I hope you guys don’t mind that but I thought I’d share what dream I had a while back about me and Chan with insomnia! (I have it really bad personally so I think my brain sparked that and connected the two of us 😂) but I hope you enjoy it! I’m also trying to figure out how to get the ‘read more’ on here but since I don’t have a laptop idk if I can do it, but I’ll figure that out 😂

Genre: FLUFFYYYY! With a little bit on sensual touches but nothing too drastic

*****************************************************

“I’m so uncomfortable.” I say in my head, having woken up from probably about one hour of sleep from yet another sleepless night, the insomnia kicking in hard, that one hour of sleep will probably be the best I’ll get for a good few hours.

I shuffle around in bed, moving the duvet off me and I turn to try and feel out for my boyfriend, but when I feel the empty space that was filled with his presence the last I remember, I frown.

“He’s probably unable to sleep...” I say to myself tiredly, a tired that will subside soon.

I decide to get up and head through towards the kitchen, I had one of my boyfriends many large black t-shirts on with a normal pair of pyjama shorts, I walked out to find my boyfriend, Chan, sitting at the kitchen table, and he catches sight of me when I walk in.

“Can’t sleep?” We both ask each other at the exact same time, it makes us both laugh.

“Me either.” I smile and walk up to Chan and he moves so he’s fully facing me, I place my hands on his shoulders and he places his arms around my waist.

“That one hour was good but not good enough.” I tell him and he chuckles.

“You didn’t even sleep for that long, I think it’s been about twenty minutes.” Chan tells me and I groan.

“No wonder it did me no good.” I pout and he chuckles softly, pulling me closer to him.

Chan’s insomnia was worse than mine, with insomnia having several levels, his had to be one of the worst, while he often couldn’t get any sleep at all and would literally be running on the dust of fumes he had left, I was a little luckier in terms that I got to sleep easier a bit more often, but Chan has so much going on in his life and with the music making and watching all eight boys making sure they’re alright he is just constantly stressed about something which makes him worse for sleep.

“Are you in the state of there is not even a chance you could get to sleep?” I ask him, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Yeah... I just know I’m not gonna get to sleep so it feels kind of pointless to try... I might fall asleep in the car ride to Music Bank tomorrow but... what can you do...” Chan shrugs, sighing sadly, it makes me so upset that I know this really gets on his nerves but he can’t do anything really while he’s working almost 24 hours for seven days a week, how he would wake up at 5AM to leave and come back at 1AM the next day just to do the same process.

“Anything I can do for you?” I ask him, leaning my hands up into his hair and caressing it slowly, running through the ash grey locks through my fingers.

“No I’m okay, you should get back to bed though, if you managed to get some sleep you might be able to get a little more.” Chan smiles at me and I smile at him.

“Only if you come back with me, I don’t like not having you there, cause then we can’t suffer together.” I pout but then give him a cheeky smile, he rolls his eyes and laughs softly.

“Alright, go on ahead I’ll meet you in the room.” Chan says and I nod my head, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek before running back through to our shared bedroom, getting up on the bed and sitting down on it, I lean over and turn on the side lamp just to let me see him when he walks in.

It takes a few minutes later for Chan to actually get back to the room, assuming he was taking a drink before he came through, he smiles at me as he closes the door behind him and he walks over to the bed, sitting down on the other side, he then looks over at me who’s eyes had followed him this entire way.

“Hi.” I smile happily, he grins.

“Hello.” He smiles softly.

“I love you, by the way just to let you know.” I giggle and he chuckles, I could tell he was tired but he just couldn’t get any sleep at all.

“I love you too.” He says and he touches the side of my jaw and leaned over and kissed my lips softly, I smile into the soft kiss and I place my hand on his neck and kiss him back, but soon enough we pulled away from each other.

“You’re so handsome.” I grin at him with a cheeky smile and he chuckles and leans over into my ear, his thick accent running through my ears and he whispers.

“And you are so damn beautiful.” I feel the shivers running through my body as he whispers that and I grin.

“Do you wanna try to sleep again?” He asks me as he places a hand on my waist.

“Yeah, but will you stay with me? You don’t have to stay the whole night if you can’t get to sleep but just until I’m properly asleep...” I ask him unsure of how he will take that question because he might almost feel jealous about it.

“Yeah of course, I’ll stay by your side.” He smiles at me and I nod my head.

“Thank you.” I smile at him and peck his lips once more and I lean over to turn off the light and then I turn to him and he brings his arms to my waist and I nuzzle into his clothed chest and hold him close to me.

The two of us lay together and our breathing is all you can hear in the room, I place my ear to his chest and I can hear his heartbeat, thump thump, thump thump.

“Are you okay?” Chan asks me softly and I nod my head.

“Yeah, I’m focusing on your heartbeat rather than my breathing.” I say, often my trouble with sleep was that I was focusing to hard on my breathing and would start to panic if I wasn’t getting enough oxygen in my lungs, it was silly really but I just kept getting myself panicked.

“Good good, just focus on my heart beating for you.” Chan says and I can hear the smile on his face in his sentence, I smile and caress his waist.

“I love you so much, I wish I could do more for you.” I frown and he takes a deep breath.

“Sorry... I know I’m such a pain... it sucks not being able to sleep, something is just wrong with me...” Chan sniffs and I widen my eyes and sit up to (barely) see his eyes starting to tear up, I shake my head and hold him by the cheeks softly.

“Baby no, nothing is wrong with you, you’re just stressed is all, you’re always working and your body clock is just all out of whack, there is nothing wrong with you Channie, there is absolutely nothing is wrong with you, if there was then something would be wrong with me!” I say and he laughs a little, a pathetic little laugh as he’s still half crying.

“Sorry, It’s just so frustrating, I want to try so many things but I just know none of them will work.” He says and I furrow my eyebrows, nodding along with what he says.

“Well you know whatever you want to try I’ll always be here working along with you, whatever you wanna try, I’ll help you with it and I’ll go through it with you, and whatever you need, I’m with you.” I smile at him and he smiles happily.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispers and I laugh.

“Please, I don’t deserve a god like you, you’re to good for me, I still don’t know how I landed a guy like you.” I comment and giggle, he rolls his eyes at me.

“Excuse me? You’re my guardian angel I don’t deserve you, I need you but I don’t deserve you.” Chan laughs and I giggle.

“So we need each other but don’t deserve each other, makes sense.” I grin and he chuckles.

“Of course.” Chan chuckles, he then suddenly flips me down onto my back and gets on top of me and I giggle as he places his hands into mine before leaning down to kiss me again, our hands come together and our fingers lace between each other, he kisses me passionately and I giggle against him.

“Hey, we were talking about ways to help me get to sleep.” He says while wriggling his eyebrows at me and I roll my eyes.

“You know that’s just gonna make you more awake if anything.” I tell him and squeeze his hand softly.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugs his shoulders and I grin.

“I just forget how cute you look in my t-shirts.” He tells me with his soft voice, and I still love his accent running through every single word.

“You’re welcome for the reminder.” I tell him and he chuckles.

“Thanks.” He snickers, leaning down to kiss me again, he places his hands downwards and onto my thighs and slowly up inside my shirt to my waist, my hands move through his strands of hair and grip it lightly.

We both have a heated make out session for a good while before we both pull away and he gets off me and lies down beside me.

“Well that’s what you need to fall asleep.” I say and giggle, Chan chuckles and brings me back to his chest and I grin to myself wrapping my arms back round his waist once again placing my ear back to his chest to listen to his heartbeat again.

“I love you, I know we have said that like eight hundred times tonight but sometimes I feel like I don’t say it enough to you.” Chan whispers softly, I smile happily and I place my finger on his torso, caressing his chest softly.

“I love you too, and you don’t have to say it all the time for me to know, I know how you feel towards me, if you suddenly changed your mind, then I’d want you to tell me that you fell out of love with me.” I tell him and he laughs.

“Sure but that won’t be happening any time soon so I hope you’re okay with that?” Chan asks me.

“Yeah fully okay with that thanks.” I giggle.

I start to feel a little more tired as the minutes go along and when Chan starts to play with my hair again it starts to make me feel even more sleepy.

“I’m... falling asleep Channie.” I whisper to him softly, he kisses my head.

“I’m feeling pretty sleepy myself, that’s all thanks to you.” Chan says and I smile and kiss his chest.

“Or your body just said you’re tired tonight now.” I tell him and he chuckles, and I smile feeling the vibrations through his chest.

“Thank you baby, for being amazing.” Chan whispers and I look up at him with a smile, he leans down to kiss me softly before we move back to our original positions.

“Night night Channie.” I whisper, holding him as close as I can to me.

“Night night baby.” He whispers, and slowly I started to fall asleep as I focused on his heartbeat once again, I just hoped he would get to sleep, I would only find out tomorrow morning, I hope you get to sleep for a little while my love Chan.

*****************************************************

I hope you guys liked it, as I say I’m really not a good writer so it was probably terrible but I hope it was okay for you guys! 😂💚 I’ll probably delete this later omg but yeah I hope you all enjoy it hahahah

[sharkfish]

ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too: 

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post) 

A Change of Scene by SurlyCat

When Dean goes over to see his Dom on Christmas Eve, he isn't expecting Cas to play naughty Santa, and neither of them is expecting how it turns out for them.

ooooomg fuck me up with that sex to lovers thing featuring bdsm. yessssss 

A Room of His Own (or not) by Valinde (Valyria)

Dean took a deep breath and reassessed the situation. He was in bed with a guy, sure, and technically they were snuggling, but it was Cas. The guy had absolutely no reference on what was appropriate physical contact between two dudes sharing a bed in the... normal, completely unsexy, no-funny-business, way.

cas is fallen, dean is confused (what else is new), A+ cuddling. that’s the fic. 

Boys On Film by LoversAntiquities @tragidean​ 

But maybe that’s what it is—maybe Castiel’s finally realized something Dean is too chicken to admit, despite the fact he’s been jerking off to the idea of Castiel fucking him for the past few weeks. The idea warms him as much as it pains him to think about, his friend not being able to talk to him about something like that. That has to be it—it’s the only explanation. Castiel likes him.

“Or maybe he knows you do cam shows.”

Dean chokes on his burger.

idk what to say, i love a good sex worker fic and here you go. @tragidean​ is always here with that first-class content. 

Castiel's Angel by Valinde (Valyria) @valinde​

The angel took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. He was fidgeting Cas noticed. Usually he was so bizarrely at ease in his human form, lounging around and tossing winks and smirks at anyone with a pulse. That more than anything had Cas straightening on his stool and wishing he was a little less tipsy.

“Ineedyoutogroommywings,” Dean muttered in one long, almost unintelligible, string. He was blushing.

all my fellow wing hos should flock* to this fic. i also love me a good switcharoo with angel dean (and hunter cas, as this is an alternate canon universe). and dean gets all claim-y, which is also my jam. 

*this was unintentional but a pretty funny joke 

For Science! by pm_lo 

Selected transcripts and supporting materials from Dr. Castiel Williams and Dean Winchester’s seminal study on physiological and psychological sexual response by gender designation.

i believe this was the first abo fic i added to my bookmarks. story time: many, many moons ago, i kept track of my reading list. i was doing that “50 books a year” thing so it was mostly for tracking that, but i had another tab for fics, because i read few enough that i could track them. i rated things and sometimes left notes, and by all the abo ones i was like “don’t tell anyone i read this.” yes, i shamed myself for liking abo. it was a dark time in my life.

anyway, then i read this, and was like, all right i can see what’s going on here.

this is a great fic for multiple reasons, and the format is one. it’s written as dialogue-only transcripts from their experiment. it’s hard to make that kind of format work, but pm_lo ain’t fucking around. 

Just a Stranger On the Bus by Amelia_Clark 

December 31 9:32 PM When Castiel boards the bus in KC, they think it’s empty at first—but when they toss their backpack onto an aisle seat and climb in after it, there’s a muffled yelp from the dimness at the back of the bus. They turn in time to see a man in a faded Carharrt jacket, sitting up and yawning as he rubs sleep out of his eyes. The man’s hair is greasy and matted down on one side, and there’s drool on the side of his face; nonetheless, he’s ridiculously good-looking.

“Hey man,” he says. Castiel does not correct him. “This can’t be Chicago.”

the non-binary tag, just like the trans tags in general, are a house half-built and left to rot in the rain. even if that wasn’t true, this series is goddamn amazing. also there’s rimming. also there’s a line in there that said something like “they don’t dislike their body, it just never felt like theirs” and i had a lightbulb moment irt my own experience. did dean ever wear carharrt in the actual series? if not, mistakes have been made. 

Just Turn Around and Go by PorcupineGirl @porcupine-girl​

Dean should be happy. His best friend and housemate of five years, Castiel, is moving out to live with his boyfriend, Balthazar. Dean's career is going great, so he can easily afford the house on his own now. This is just growing up, moving forward to the next phase of their lives.

It would be awesome, if he weren't in love with Cas.

Well, here we go, he thinks as he opens the refrigerator and digs around for sandwich supplies. First day of the rest of your life. Time to move the fuck on. As he slams his meat and mayo and pickles down on the counter, he considers adding the bottle of whiskey he knows is hiding in the cabinet, but decides that he has enough self-respect to wait 'til five. Then he'll get fucking blackout drunk. Yep. Awesome.

y’all, do i even have to say anything about this? roommates to friends to a pathetic amount of pining without saying shit to disgustingly in love. also i think i cried, but i’ve been in tears so many times in the last week, who’s to say. 

Plus One by ceeainthereforthat @ceeainthereforthat​ 

Castiel Novak might have to attend three weddings in two months, but he’s not about to let his brother play matchmaker. His family’s Internet streaming company is too important to let a relationship steal his time, but he knows exactly what to do–hire someone to pretend to be his boyfriend.

Dean Winchester has worked five-star hospitality long enough to know how to fit in with Castiel’s crowd, and this job could score him the connections to make his acting career take off. It’s a business deal, no matter how they’re drawn to each other. When the lines of their contract start to blur into real feelings, can they withstand Castiel’s family and jealous fans working to split them up?

there are a lot of great fake dating stories out there, but this one takes the cake (or, at least, a slice of it). also, i cried a lot rereading this, both “ohhh god i love their love” tears and also “ohhhh god this hurts so bad” tears. 

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche) 

Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

they’re both oblivious idiots in love, cas is grey-ace, dean’s a total dork, it’s all just very lovely (and frustrating in the way oblivious idiots can be!!!). 

PS - annie d is writing marvel fic lately and i’m sure it’s fantastic if you’re into that kind of thing. 

Support Your Local Gay Beekeeper by Powerfulweak

It’s not like Dean goes on Grindr very often, just when he’s bored and alone. The blue-eyed guy's profile reads "Beekeeper, 29, 5'10, Single, I watch the bees." Dean is intrigued. He has to send a message.

this is a series that starts with some great phone sex and then goes on to very, very awkward sex injuries. a goddamn cringefest that had me in complete horror imagining it. but it’s fun! they persevere! people so rarely write about Sex Going Wrong and i love @powerfulweak​ for taking the bullet for us on that one. 

Take Me Home Tonight by Persephoneshadow @persephoneshadow​

“Come on, we’re finding you someone to…engage with sexually or whatever,” Dean explains, chancing another swig of beer before going on. “Anyone in this bar, no limits, who would you would be your top choice to bang?” “Well, you, ideally.” Dean spits out some beer before collapsing in on himself, legitimately choking this time. “Excuse me?!” ---- Or the one where Cas wants to have sex and Dean is there to help.

your classic denialist “i’ll be your wingman” turning to “actually imagining someone else touching you makes me want to punch someone.” which is dumb, because cas actually wanted dean all along. 

Words with Friends by betts

"Dean Winchester is as straight as an arrow. He’s a lady’s man of epic proportions: the king of the one night stand, the messiah of the friends with benefits paradigm, the emperor of perpetual bachelorhood.

Except, apparently, when it comes to his best friend, Castiel Novak."

***

Wherein a longstanding acquaintanceship leads to friendship, then best friendship, then sexting, then dirty talk, then mutual masturbation, then, inevitably, fucking.

look i think you’re always in good hands with @bettsfic​. but this one has some good sexting and phone sex right at the start, which i’m totally into, and then it gets even better. cas is a lil bossy, by which i meant to say he’s the kind of bdsm geek who has equipment installed in his bedroom for sex purposes. 

You're The Only Stranger I Need by lyndsie_l

When Castiel receives a text from a stranger, he finds himself engaging in conversations daily. He's drawn to the outgoing college student and longs to interact with the other man as often as he can. Slowly, he finds himself falling in love with the other and can't imagine ever meeting a more beautiful person.

The only problem?

He's never actually met this other man.

be still my heart! a long distance/texting/phone sex thing! i want to read it again right this second. cas is such a cool nerd, dean is a brat, it’s a good time all around. 

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3 

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :)