#omg him running in his rain boots

[suashii]

i finished season one of bsd and the first part (flashback?) of season two! loved seeing more of dazai’s character, very very interesting. . . but yeah! gonna try to fit in a couple more episodes tonight :3

[cakelitter]

Pawsitively Yours Leon x Puppy - Hybrid Fem! Reader

Warnings: age gap, daddy kink, fingering, breeding kink, slight mention of virginity, spanking, degradation

Summary: Leon's new puppy treats him to a relaxing bath after a stressful mission.

Words: 5.1k

a/n: this one took me so long to do omg. rewrote some paragraphs like three times. but anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!

December has started, and with it came the heavy rain fall and bone chilling winds. Leon makes his way to the nearby convenience store, trying to be as quick as possible before the sky starts getting upset again. Bundled up in his coat and boots, he can see the white smoke like fog that forms after each breath.

His nose froze long ago, and he’s only been out of the house for five minutes. His once functional nose now turning a rosy shade of pink along with his cheeks. And so, he opts to breathe through his mouth a bit till he reaches the warmth of the store.

Milk, eggs, bread, milk, eggs, bread, milk, eggs-

His mind keeps repeating, in order to not forget anything. Writing a list would have saved him so much back and forth, but he’d rather do that than give in and actually write one down. It’s actually impressive how stubborn a man can be.

The glowing lights from the festive decoration on the streets are single handedly illuminating his way to his destination. Christmas is right around the corner, and people are filled with excitement and glee. For Leon on the other hand, Christmas is another cold winter day with the advantage of things being half off the next day.

Maybe it’s the traumatic events that he went through, or maybe it’s the fact that he barely has anyone around to celebrate this once in a year holiday with. But Christmas is not as special as it once was.

Opening the glass door, he steps into the warm space. Breathing in comfortably for once without the feeling of pins and needles tormenting him from the icy air.

It doesn’t take him long to grab the items he initially came in here for, while picking up a bottle of whiskey along the way to keep him company. It was calling his name from the wooden shelf it once stood on, and it was fifty percent off. So, he’s technically doing something good. He places his belongings on the register, while making small talk with the old cashier. The man in front of him says something about the weather, old man talk, and as time passes by he is actually starting to like these types of small conversations more and more.

He's definitely getting old.

The yell of an employee interrupts their conversation, alerting everyone around and addressing a customer that sprints out the store with unpaid items in hand. He thought the officer inside of him died a long time ago, but apparently not. He starts chasing the individual, down the street into an abandoned alley way. When suddenly the clanking sound of cans ricochet through the eerie alleyway, as some of the cans their holding slip from their grasp and onto the concrete floor.

He tries his best to not step on any of them. Which shouldn’t be too hard if this damn alley way wasn’t so fucking dark. He can’t see shit in front of him. It’s practically almost pitch black and the person he’s chasing is wearing a black jacket with the hood up. He’s chasing shadows at this point. Hopefully he is even chasing someone in the first place and isn’t having another one of his hallucinations. Running out the store like a crazy person.

All he does know however is that whoever he’s running after is fast, real fast. He’s almost out of breath kind of fast. The I hope they slip so this can be over kind of fast.

His prayers must’ve been answered cause instead of them slipping, they found themselves reaching a dead end. They’re movement ceases and they freeze in place looking at the stone wall blocking their way out.

He stands behind the hooded figure, their back turned to him.

“Turn around.” He orders, voice stern and intimidating. The thief turns around slowly, eyes facing the ground and full of guilt.

“Take that hood off.” Shaky hands comply, revealing their identity. They look up at him, and… are those dog ears?

Your eyes make contact with his, tears brimming in your eyes, reflecting the yellow light coming from the nearby and only street light, horrified of the thought of what is going to happen to you next. Your ears are droopy and wet from he can only assume the previous rain. Eye brows furrowed and your tail from what he can tell is now hiding between your legs, covered by your oversized jacket. The jacket is two to three sizes too big for you, can’t tell if that’s a fashion choice. He’s not up to date with today’s fashion trends. You’re a hybrid. A homeless one, judging by the state of your clothes and hair.

Regardless of the disheveled appearance, you’re a real cutie. Practically begging him silently to pretend like he didn’t catch you, and let you go on your merry way. His eyes drop down to see what you’re holding in your arms and finds three cans of tuna there. You poor thing, hungry and shaking from either the cold or from the possibility of going to jail… or the pound. He’s not sure where they deal with your kind.

He steps closer, and immediately senses the he picked the wrong choice of action as you start growling. Taking the hint, he backs off and nods slowly raising his hands up, making you stop.

The sound of running footsteps enter into the alleyway the two of you are standing in.

“You caught them?” the employee from earlier asks. Your eyes move over to them then back to him. Leon is a firm believer that stealing for hunger isn’t a crime. You were stealing tuna cans for fucks sake, the cheapest kind too. Not a lavish necklace worth millions.

“Yeah…” he can hear your brain cogs working, thinking about how you will get yourself out of this situation. And he could swear that he heard a whine leave your mouth. Hybrids are looked at as a minority, either locket away in cages or poked in labs. And that’s if they weren’t causing trouble. He doesn’t know what the law would do to you in your case… but it’s most definitely not humane. After a moment, he speaks again, not taking his eyes off of you.

“How much did those cans cost?”

That incident was four months ago, and ever since that day he decided to take you in. Leon was very adamant on the idea of not adopting any pets, not having the time to take care of them. But he figured that since your half human, it wouldn’t be too bad.

The first couple of weeks were hard. You’d lock yourself in your room and hide under the covers when he’s home. You’d growl if he tried touching you, and in general was having a hard time adapting to your new space. Leon however, remained as patient as possible. Giving you your time to feel comfortable, and always made it clear that he’s not a threat to you. Although he can’t really blame you for thinking he is, after all, having a man chase you down and corner you in an alleyway isn’t the best first impression to make.

He doesn’t know much about your background. Whether you were experimented on in a lab and somehow managed to escape, or simply tossed into the streets. But it’s clear that your days before meeting him weren’t the brightest. Matter a fact, he didn’t even know what your voice sounded like for the first 3 weeks, and just assumed that your breed didn’t have the capabilities to speak.

Nevertheless, you decided to break this cycle of keeping him away, when he once came home and sat on the couch. You were laying down on the floor on the further end of it. And to his surprise, decided to walk towards him, laying down and placing your head on his boot, instead of scurrying away into your room.

Leon has fought some of the most gut-wrenching bioweapons, designed to end a man’s life in a matter of seconds and managed to end them without breaking much of a sweat. Yet, this is his biggest achievement yet. You wanted to be next to him, instead of telling him to fuck off like usual. With your eyes of course, he still hasn’t unlocked the dialogue option with you at that time.

Ever since then, you’ve made small steps of opening up to him. And now, he’s the center of your universe, the main attraction, your favorite toy. Pawing at him for belly rubs, standing at the door, ready to greet him, as soon as you hear the jingle of the keys, and needing his attention 24/7 whenever he’s home.

You are now a completely different pup compared to the one he found wet and cold in a sketchy alleyway a few months back. You’re playful and energetic. A pain in the ass to take to the doctor for checkups, but nonetheless, a perfect companion for him. Leon likes to believe that you’re a gift sent to him, an early Christmas gift to light up his gloomy days. A thing he never knew he needed.

Ever since you stepped into his life, leaving paw prints behind, he started getting better without even knowing it. Instead of spending nights self-loathing and mourning the person he could’ve been, downing beer after beer. He spends that time now playing with you and watching movies together. Colorful ones though, your attention span isn’t the best…

He anticipated that you would have dog-like characteristics, and you do. Going crazy over squeaky toys, sniffing him for a good fifteen minutes after he comes back home, being obsessed with his shoes and hiding them under your bed, and tilting your head to the side when you’re confused.

Pure innocence, pure puppy innocence is what you are. Which is the reason that made him feel like a creep for his dick standing up whenever you’d sneak into his bed at night, cause you had a bad dream. Wearing skimpy shorts that did nothing to hide your ass, and a tight floral tank top without a bra. Your pouty lips, and soft-spoken voice. Your pretty eyes, and delicate skin.

“Leon…I had a bad dream; can I sleep with you?” Is all he would hear coming from the direction of his bedroom door. You don’t even bother waiting for him to answer, and instead climb into his bed, tangling your self around him. Head nuzzled into his chest, one of your arms and legs draped over his body. It doesn’t even take you longer that a minute to be fast asleep, leaving him an achy mess without even knowing it.

In addition to how you’d sit on his lap while watching a movie. He hasn’t taught you boundaries yet, knowing you, you’d get upset and give him those kicked puppy dog eyes for shooing you off his lap. Cause it makes his dick fucking hard.

It wouldn’t be such a big deal if you stayed still for once. He swears that you can’t stay in one position unless your asleep. As long as that cute little brain of yours is conscious, you’ll keep squirming on him lap, again with those frilly white skirts and revealing shorts, like he isn’t on the verge of losing it.

Worst part of it all, how your cunt always seems to be so wet all the time. Feeling it seep through your panties and onto his pants, making him want to die on the spot. The way your underwear will always have massive wet patches on them whenever he does the laundry. Is that even normal?

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Today he came back home after being away for three weeks. Opening the door, he doesn’t find your figure standing in front of him, with a flashy smile on your face, showing off your sharp canines. Twinkling so perfectly like you didn’t suck his bank account dry with those toys off yours. He raised his eyebrow at your absence and whistled hoping your pick it up in case you haven’t heard the sound of the front door opening. Which is pretty unlikely.

Dropping down his bag in the hallway, he walks over to the living room. The older man inspects the area, calling out for you, yet there is no sign of you. Kitchen, same thing. It’s not till he reaches the dining room till he spots out of the corner of his eyes the sight of your fluffy tail sticking out from under the table.

A grin creeps up on his face as he walks towards your hiding spot. He stops a few inches away from where you are and pretends like he’s still looking for you.

“Oh my god, I can’t find her!” He exaggerates, and watches over at how your tail starts wagging.

Cute.

“Where could she possibly be!!” it starts swishing left and right even harder, hitting the chair legs that are on either side of it.

Thump

Thump

Thump

“Is she under the dining table?”

…

“Or is she in my room?”

Thump

Thump

Thump

You’re adorable.

“Oh well I give up. Guess I’ll never find her.” He says throwing his arms defeatedly and turns around to exit the room.

“Boo!” Jumping out from under the table, you reveal yourself. Your arms extending and grabbing his leg. He chuckles and you look up at him with a beaming smile.

“Did I scare ya?”

“Real good, sweet thing.” He replies and crouches down to your level, rubbing behind your ear. Your favorite spot. He helps you get up and you waste no time beginning to sniff him near his shoulder. Face scrunching up at the smell and your eyes meet his again.

“Did you swim in the sewers again?” you ask rubbing your nose.

“I-… yeah”

It’s a long story okay…He needed to get to a certain point but the normal way was blocked so he had to-

Whatever.

Your head nods up and down slowly, knowing your nose is never wrong.

“I’ll go shower.”  He replies, and your eyes light up.

“Want me to help?” You ask excitedly, your tail wagging intensely. “I’ll help you take a bath, and I’ll let you use my rubber duckies too!”

“No honey I-”

You give him those eyes. The ‘you wouldn’t be mean and break my frail puppy heart would you?’ eyes. The eyes that make the strongest agent in the United States, weak. And to no one’s surprise, he gives in.

“Fine, but you only prep the bath and then leave, okay?”

“Don’t you want me to wash your hair like you wash mine?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“…I’ll only prep the bath and leave.” That took you longer to answer than he would like. “Promise? “He asks.

“…”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He nods, making sure that you understood what he was saying. And as soon as you get his approval, you sprint to the bathroom and the sound of the tub being filled follows pursuit.

He sighs, shaking his head with a smile. Walking to his bedroom, he grabs a freshly cleaned towel before making his way to the bathroom. Your figure is kneeling on the floor, hands grabbing the edge of the tub, watching as it fills with water and bubbles.

Turning around, you smile with a tail wag and turn off the faucet once the water has reached the amount, he usually puts for you.

“It’s ready!” He nods and you start to make your way to the door. As you do, he grabs the edge of his shirt and begins lifting it revealing the bare skin beneath. You stop in your tracks and he notices, your eyes looking at his defined muscles without even blinking.

“Out!”

“Okayyy” You whine, brows furrowing as you slowly close the door. Not before taking a final look of course.

He continues undressing and walks over to the tub, it has some bubbles and a couple of rubber ducks floating on top of it. Placing one foot in, the water is a little too hot, but not bad considering it being your first time doing something like that.

The water level rises as he soaks his entire body, feeling his muscles relax. Soothing his aching muscles and bones. A moment later, he pulls himself fully under the water, and then comes back out, pulling his hair off his face, giving him a slicked back hairstyle you always make fun of him for.

The smell of soap and the feeling of finally being safe after three hellish weeks grounds him as he closes his eyes. Once he reopens them, one of your rubber duckies is looking at him.

God, this is a bit weird.

He grabs it and inspects it, it’s mostly in good condition except for a few bite marks here and there. Wonder who those belong to. He examines the duck for a few more minutes, taking in its yellow body and orange beak. You go crazy over these things, he practically needs to drag you out of the tub each time because of them.

The silence around him is broken when he hears the sound of the door slightly opening which is followed by a cold gust of wind. He looks over and sees one of your eyes looking into the room.

“What did I tell you?” He says, but you don’t respond. Thinking you can trick him into thinking that you’re not there, just like how you still think he couldn’t see you back when you were hiding. And to think your breed is supposed to be one of the smartest.  He calls out your name, making you speak and pull the bathroom door open exposing yourself, kneeling next to it.

“I wanted to see if you were having fun…”

“I am now leave.” He says, tone trying to show seriousness. You don’t listen and in lieu, start crawling towards the tub.

“Are you listening to me?” He speaks again, but it falls to deaf ears. How can he blame you for not listening when he has never disciplined you. Spoiled brat. Ever since he picked you off the streets and claimed you as his own, he has not even once, raised his voice or gotten angry at you.

You crawl over and place your head on the edge of the tub. He’s honestly shocked at how shameless you’re being.

“That one’s name is Jerold.” Your voice says, pointing at the duck he forgot he was holding. A pathetic attempt of trying to change the topic. He looks at the duc- Jerold then back at you. Smiling so sweetly with a halo above your head like you just didn’t break his word.

He sighs, realizing there is no use in wasting his breath and places Jerold back in the water. Looking over back at you, he notices that you’re no longer watching his face, but at something else intensely. Curious, he follows your eyes and realizes at what caught your attention. The bubbles in the bath decided to migrate to either side of the tub, making his crotch completely exposed to your prying eyes.

You’re are not even blinking, a thing you do when you’re thinking too hard about something. The snap of his finger cuts your thread of thoughts, making you jump as you look back at his face, the place you should only be looking at from the get go.

“Privacy?”

Your ears go back in shame, it’s like you didn’t even realize that you were staring.

“Sorry… The water just looks nice.” He raises a brow at you. You are a pervert and a horrible liar.

“The water.” He repeats, showing you how ridiculous your lie was. You remain silent for a while, but start getting a bit fidgety. Looking around and getting up and sitting down again, the same way you act when he’s about to give you a treat.

“Can I get in the bath?” You say impatiently. You’ve always loved bath times, and pools, and lakes, and every single body of water that has ever existed. So, this is not unusual for you to ask, but he can’t help but feel like your intentions aren’t pure.

“No.”

“Why?”

…

Good question. Why not? He does think you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. He has fantasized about you before, something he doesn’t like admitting. He has checked you out a few times too… you were once again, wearing flimsy clothing, prancing around him, licking his neck and begging him to touch you and give you rubs. At the end of the day Leon is a man, who is guilty of thinking with his dick a time or two.

But he always resisted his urges. Locked them away in one of the rooms in his mind next to other gruesome core memories and throwing away the key. You were his baby, he’s supposed to protect, care, and provide for you, not fuck you.

By the time the voices in his head are fighting each other, you were quick to take off your clothes. And next thing he knows you’re in the tub with him. He goes to protest against what you’re doing, but you straddle him and place your head on his shoulder.

If that was your plan to shut him up… it worked. You feel warm and soft. The plush of your breast pressing up against his chest as he watches your chest rise and fall. Maybe this is wholesome, not like the two of you are naked and he could practically feel your cunt on his dick. No no no, that would be absurd.

He places his hand on your back, and moves it up and down soothingly. Why is he even rubbing your back? You disobeyed him, shouldn’t he be pissed? The two of you sit in silence for a while, before you remove your head off his shoulder. Arms still on either side of his neck, your eyes meet his. Dropping from his sky-blue eyes, over to his wet lips. Fuck.

You lean in. Fuck fuck fuck.

And you kiss him. Possibly the most delicate kiss he’s ever experienced. Full of pure affection. He doesn’t push you, he doesn’t pull back, he doesn’t lecture you about boundaries. But instead, he takes it. All of his attention on your mellow lips and light breath.

You pull away, locking eyes together. And he sees the blood rushing to your cheeks. Did he ever mention that you were cute? You anticipate him lecturing you, yelling at you, or even kicking you out, for what you did. But he doesn’t.

Remember that voice that was telling him that this is weird? Yeah, it can go fuck itself. He leans in and kisses you lips again. You let out a soft breath at his action, and he can hear the sound of your tail wagging once again even when it’s submerged in water.

Splash

Splash

Splash

Once more, your lips disconnect and you start shifting your hips above him. His dick has already started rising ever since your lips made contact with his.

“Can I wash your hair now?” he laughs.

“Sure, why not.”

And so, you do. Grabbing his shampoo bottle and squeezing some product on your hand before lathering in on his head. Your fingers work the product into his hair, before grabbing the nearby shower head and rinsing it off. The masculine aroma of his shampoo fills the small space as he decides he might as well give you a bath while he’s at it. He goes to grab your shampoo before your hand stops him.

“I want to use yours… wanna smell like you.” His heart could burst out of his chest at this moment. This shouldn’t have turned him on this much, but alas it did. Without complaints, he does what you want. Repeating the same process, you did on his hair earlier.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you walk out the tub. He pats you dry with his towel then himself. This went over rather smoothly, see wholesome just like he said. Everything is under contro- you’re rubbing your thighs together.

“Leon…” Your soft voice calls out to him, grabbing his attention. He hums in response and looks over at your eyes. Stepping closer, you place a soft lick over his collar bone before beginning to kiss the area. Your hand creeps up the side of his neck over to his jaw, coaxing him to accept your touch. And you almost managed to do that, till those voices in his head barged in once again.

He grabs your hand gingerly and whispers. “Baby, I don’t know if we should do this.”

You whine, mouth stopping its assault on his neck to speak. “Please, wanted you to breed me for so long.”

Once again, those voices get thrown out the window, as the words you just said make his brain short circuit. Cursing under his breath, he smashes his lips against yours harshly driving you up the bathroom wall.

You kiss him back fervently. Hands cupping his face as his chest closes the proximity between the two of you. Grabbing your jaw, his hands slither down and cup your mound, receiving yet another whine from your lips. Music to his ears.

His finger then starts making firm circles around your clit making your hips buck forward towards his touch craving more. Your hands scramble around his chest, a puppy like you has probably never experienced something like this before, huh.

His tongue enters your mouth and you accept it gladly. Two of his fingers rub between your folds back and forth. Collecting the slick that is practically dripping down your thigh, your hole is practically weeping. And he groans at the slippery feeling, before plunging two of his fingers into you with ease. Your back arches and you moan into his mouth, as his fingers start moving in and out of your wet heat.

“Who knew my sweet pup was such a slut.” He says pulling your ears closer to his mouth with the iron grip he as on your jaw.

You’re so sensitive, thighs begin to tremble at the way his fingers curl into you, and the real fun hasn’t even started. You can barely stand at this point. Realizing that, he grabs your thighs and pulls you over his shoulder and makes his way to his room. He plops you down on the bed, and you immediately roll over to your stomach, back arched, and ass up in the air like its instinct. He could get used to the sight of this, your face pressed down on his sheets and begging him to fuck you senseless.

“You know sweetheart, I don’t even think I should breed you after you’ve disobeyed me so much today.” He says, hands rubbing over your ass. And upon hearing his words your expression shifts, it feels like he just told you the most heartbreaking news you could ever receive in your whole life.

“Noo please. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? I don’t believe that.”

“I promise, I won’t do it again Daddy.”

Shit.

You’re into that too.

...Oh, your nastier than he thought. Without even replying, he grabs his cock, slapping it a few times on your ass, precum forming strings connecting the two surfaces. Then bullies his cock into you making your feet kick out with a squeal. His balls are plush against your clit as he completely bottoms out inside of you.

You start drooling over the mattress, hands clutching the sheets beneath you for dear life. And without giving you much time to adjust, he starts moving. You feel so tight around him, its driving him crazy. The squelching sounds of your tight dripping pussy can be heard from a mile away. The fluid dripping from the hole that is connecting the two of you and down onto Leon’s gray sheets. Leaving wet dark gray spots on the surface. Picking up his pace, his hips slam into you harshly, pornographic moans can be heard from the two of you along with the clapping sound of your skin slamming against his.

He grabs your hips and leans in, having your back against his abdomen as he speaks into your ear.

“Here I was thinking you were innocent, not knowing what you were doing. Having your entire pussy on display for me, all wet and needy, waiting for me to fuck you full like the slut you are.”

“Wanted you.” is all you can manage to retort back, voice breaking from the impact each thrust has on you. He chuckles lowly and spanking your ass making you yelp and squirm beneath him before grabbing it. The skin now, hot and red beneath his touch.

“Should’ve spoken earlier sweetheart. I wouldn’t be this rough if I wasn’t so pent up.”

Your pussy is now sucking him in even further as he rabbits his dick into you. His hand moves over and under you, making its way to your clit. Pleasure is slowly but surely fogging up your brain, no thoughts other than Leon floating around in your head.

“Be a good girl and cum for me. And maybe then I’ll breed you.” And just like that, your thighs shudder beneath you as your pleasure blurs out your vision. The idea of being full of Leon’s pups making you see stars.

The tightness that you are gripping Leon in, in addition to your walls spasming around him, makes him tighten his grip on your hips leaving bruises there. His release ensuing yours. You bite your lip at the hot liquid being spurted out inside of you. Making you feel warm on the inside. Leon groans at the intensity of his release, one he forbid himself from for such a long time.

He thrusts a few more times, distributing his cum evenly inside you, and pushing it further up your cunt. He lets out a breath at the sight, one he can’t believe is seeing.

Plopping a delicate kiss on the middle of your back. He pulls out with a squelching sound from both your fluids combined, forcing a whimper out of the two of you at the discomfort. He walks over to the tissue box he keeps on his bedside table, and helps you clean up the mess. Throwing away the dirty napkin and laying down on the bed next to you, his arms open and inviting you.

You cuddle up against his chest, and he places a soft peck on top of your head.

“Thanks for the bath sweetheart.”

divider by: @/picopipi

[thecapricunt1616]

Peach (c.b. one-shot)

Blurb (More BTC!) : You could tell Carmy had a bad day from the sound of the door slamming, and then a called “sorry! Didn’t mean it babe” and by the looks of his cheeks that were a flushed red that matched his chest when he’d taken his hoodie off, he’d had a really long run. It felt a bit wrong, but sexy that it felt so, as you watched him tug off his shorts, then his boxers, revealing his soft cock, and his adorable really even though he got all blushy and shy when you pointed it out bare lily white ass.

♡ One Shot Inspo: Based on ♡this♡ ask from a sweet anon, thank you for your request! Peaches symbolize many things, including longevity, love, and immortality. Peach blossoms are also said to put men into a trance of love. Before the 17th century, peaches were considered a subgenus of the apple, so European cultural representations of apples, such as in paintings and poems, were sometimes transferred onto peaches. This included connotations of fertility and immortality. ♡ Summary: Carmy has a bad day at work, and comes home with an attitude that needs a little assistance adjusting. ♡ W/C: 1.7k ♡ A/N: EEEEEE I can't believe season 3 comes out today yall!!! I am shakin in my boots and so freaking excited!!! I'm going to be binging the whole series likely tonight!!! OMG our boy is finally gonna get out of the freezer! I hope you like this one shot, I may be able to get another out today before the new season but its already 3 and it comes out at 9 so maybe but anywho, I hope you all like!! The drought is almost overrr!!! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Smut!! Fem!Reader, No use of Y/N, swearing, Black!Fem!Reader friendly

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡ ➵ My 300 Follower Celebration Bingo!

It was a sticky, hot, balmy Chicago summer day. To top it off, it had been raining all day long which meant people had been ducking into The Beef in refuge of somewhere dry and cool, so Carmy had been absolutely slammed with orders all day long. He was feeling antsy, too full of energy. 

So it was only normal for him to go on a run straight after work. He put on his black shorts, and white hoodie after changing out of his work clothes and drove to his favorite park. He wouldn’t have known how many miles he’d ran since the parks trail was just one big loop unless he had his phone in his pocket, which it told him 5. 

The only other way he’d known he would have ran that much was his hoodie was drenched in sweat, and so was his hair. Like, dripping. Each lap around the trail he had chugged a few large sips from his gallon full of water that was now warm from sitting on the bench on the side of the trail. He had only stopped because he was genuinely exhausted and his water was pretty much gone. But thankfully, his mind had been mostly cleared. 

He had to do this before he came home to you. Carmy knew he had…issues, managing his anger. The only way he knew he wouldn’t explode from overstimulation by giving the physical affection he knew you deserved after he was away from you all day long. So if he blew off all of his steam, he could give you what was left of him which was the exhausted, run down version that didn’t have the emotional wearwithall to shut you out or snap at you. 

When he came through the door, he came to the bedroom to see you curled up in bed. He sighed softly in relief both at the feeling of the air conditioner and at the realization his day was finally over, and he could relax. “Hey baby” he mumbled, tugging his hoodie off and pushing his sweat slick hair off of his forehead as to not drip on you before leaning over and kissing your forehead. “Gonna shower n’ I’ll make dinner sorry m’late went running. Bad day” he said as he headed off to the bathroom, the door slightly ajar just enough you could see him in the large bathroom mirror. 

You could tell he had a bad day from the sound of the door slamming, and then a called “sorry! Didn’t mean it babe” and by the looks of his cheeks that were a flushed red that matched his chest when he’d taken his hoodie off, he’d had a really long run. It felt a bit wrong, but sexy that it felt so, as you watched him tug off his shorts, then his boxers, revealing his soft cock, and his adorable really even though he got all blushy and shy when you pointed it out bare lily white ass. 

He ran shirtless most of the time, and his Italian really came through in the summer - because his skin absorbed so much sun in just the time he went on his runs, turning it more freckled and golden bronzed tan of what his winter color was. His hair demonstrated it too, the ends that was and the parts that peek out of his hat. He had tiny noticeable bleach blonde streaks from the sun in some of his curls, Natalie teased that was his color when he was a baby and he should let it come out more. 

His stark tan line across his ass cutting just before the dimples on his spine made you smile to yourself, which turned to a pout as he stepped in the shower and you could no longer see him. You sigh softly to yourself at your now lack of eye candy and turned your attention back to the tv when you hear a little groan. “Fuckin Jesus it’s hot out today” he muttered to himself that you could barely hear over the water. But it piqued your interest. 

You got up, padding over to the wall next to the bathroom door and listened. Nothing. Damn, you had a sexy little fantasy going on in your head of catching him jacking off or something and offering to join him all sexy, but it sounds like he’s just…showering. You can smell the faint scent of his herby body wash mixed with dove soap, the faint splashing of water every so often as he cleans himself. Found yourself asking if you should just leave him alone, but then again this is something you hadn’t tried together before. 

Carefully you nudge open the door and Carmy looks over “oh- hey babe I’m almost done did you need the- woah, okay- hi- gettin in? All dressed?” He teased, a bit confused and surprised when you had just slid open the shower door casually. He looked adorable, hair full of soap, cheeks slightly less pink due to the cool water, it felt a bit like corruption to offer getting him off. 

“No uh…” you swallow thickly, eyes flickering to his soapy chest and…yeah, you remembered why you wanted in here in the first place. “Can I…help you- like, relax?” You question and his brows raise in surprise, mouth dropping for a moment before closing again, as if he was trying to find what to say. 

This proved true a few moments later when he just said “s-sure- yeah how do you wanna help me?” The heat in his cheeks was coming back. 

“C’mere” you wrap your manicured hand around the back of his neck, gently angling him down to kiss you and he gratefully accepts. He nervously keeps his hands behind his back since he didn’t wanna get you wet, allowing you to touch and kiss him however you wanted. “Carmy” you mumble between kisses and he responds with a ‘mmm’ of acknowledgment “why” kiss “aren’t you” kiss “touching me?” 

You pulled away a bit so he could answer and he wiped soap off his forehead before it dribbled in his eyes “uh I don’t wanna get you wet, I guess?” He said and you shrug 

“Don’t care, you can touch me” you continued ravishing him in kisses and he wraps his arms around you, wet hands finding your back and roaming over the soft skin. It went on like this for a few minutes, biting and kissing and sucking on eachothers lips- when you grabbed his half hard cock at the base and gently stroked it, all the way up to the tip- brushing your thumb over it and going back down, he gasped, forehead falling to your shoulder. 

“Fuckin hell” he breathed, his cock getting fully erect after just a few gentle strokes of your soft, pretty hand. He kept his arms wrapped around you, one hand on each hip, squeezing to ground himself as you found a rhythm pumping him with your hand. His moans went all whiny the way they did when he needed more, and you tighten your grip earning a hot,breathy “yes, thank you baby” out of him that made you smirk proudly and turn your face just barely in order to kiss his temple. 

“Of course Bear, m’sorry you had such a bad day lovey. But I’m here for you, I’m so happy you let me take care of you. I love making you feel good, do you feel good, Carmy?” You ask in a sultry tone in the shell of his ear. His cock stiffened in your hand, along with a pretty ruined whimper letting you know he was close “can you lean on the wall for me pretty boy?” His stomach clenched as he tried holding himself back, his breath coming more ragged like pants 

“So close” he warned “so so close” he repeats. 

“I know baby can you sit up” you giggle “I promise you’ll like it” you said and he huffs, leaning against the wall and looking at you with the cat-like ‘I was comfortable and you made me move’ look, until you got on your knees right in front of where he was now leaned against the shower wall near the door, and continued to stroke him with your tongue stuck out down your chin while you watch him with big doe eyes. 

His attention returns, mouth dropping hotly and pants resuming as you sped up your hand, using your other to massage his balls. The action had his eyes nearly rolling back and head falling against the wall but he remained all of his focus on you, his girl - his beautiful, amazing girl, on her knees, jerking his cock and eagerly waiting for him to shoot a load down your throat so you can swallow it gratefully, and even lick the tip clean after. God he loved when you did that. 

The reminder of your affinity for the taste of his cum had him grunting to cover up his long drawn out moan that tore from deep in his chest as he came harder then he thought he would, needing to lean his shoulder on the wall further as his knees actually shook while he shot rope after rope of white cream into your eagerly awaiting pretty pink mouth. You hum, satisfied at the taste as you continued quickly jerking his cock to milk out every last drop. After you did so, you made sure to allow him to tilt your face up, and admire the cum covering your lips, tongue, and chin, as well as dripping down the back of your throat. 

You shut your eyes, swallowing the mouthful with a satisfied grin licking your lips and wiping the remaining cum off your chin and neck with your finger, and then sucking that while you looked him in the eyes. He stared down at you in awe, cock twitching at your movements. Poor thing couldn’t even get soft with the sight of you around. You furthered that torture by gently grabbing the base of his cock and giving the sensitive tip kitten licks to clean off any missed dribbles. 

“You are gonna be the fucking death of me” he told you as you got up, and go to the sink to brush your teeth 

“Feel better?” You asked and he looked at you in the reflection of the mirror like a confused puppy for a moment before he realized oh, right. He came home in a shit mood after a shit day, and you essentially sucked the attitude out of him. 

“Mmhmm” he mumbled and shut the shower door. 

You sucked the attitude out of him, not the ego after all.

[alpurrtwhizkersss]

Omg you're taking six of crows requests?!?

Can I get a Kaz x fem!reader where the two of them are a couple (or trying to be) like Kaz is less snappy towards her, they're working on his touch aversion and everything.

But then on a heist gone wrong reader is hurt/stabbed/shot and falls into the Harbour, and Kaz is terrified because of the water but he's more terrified of losing his girl and he realizes that none of the other crows will reach her in time so he dives into the water to save her and when he drags her back onto the dock they just hug each other and the reader is apologizing for ruining the heist, Kaz is just holding her tightly and telling her it's ok, she's safe and that's how the rest of the crows find them, curled up at the end of the dock. Maybe some soft kisses?

Kaz trying to deal with his trauma in ways like this makes me happy

His Star

Requested By:  anonymous!

Warnings: Drowning, reader gets stabbed in the arm, Kaz deals with some trauma flashbacks/anxiety, possibly OOC Kaz.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Prompt: None

She/Her pronouns used to refer to reader.

Author’s Note:

hey!! sorry this one took so long, I haven't written for Kaz for a WHILE so I hope this meets your request!

Word Count: 1321

Kaz loved you.

Or, at least, you thought he did. He had never told you explicitly, but then, the ruthless young man had never told many people of his affections for them, choosing instead to close himself off to the world instead of facing his feelings.

Despite the mask he put over his emotions every day, you could still tell he loved you through the way he treated you, how he didn’t snap at you like he snapped at the other crows, and the way he looked at you.

Oh, how he looked at you.

Kaz Brekker looked at you as though he was a tired man, bound to the ground of the earth, weak and broken, and you were a star in the dark, endless sky waiting to lead him home, your brightness and your beauty incomparable to anything else.

There were many times Kaz had wanted to touch you, to reach his gloved hand out and graze it against your cheek, or to squeeze your thigh for comfort as you sat beside him, but he couldn’t. He feared that if he did, it would bring everything back. Bring Jordie’s death back. And the possibility was too painful to try.

You understood, of course, you would never push him to do anything he didn’t want to, so you left it alone. You never asked, you barely even thought, because even the idea of making Kaz uncomfortable or upset made guilt squeeze your heart sharply. You would listen if he brought up the idea, but you’d never do it yourself. You’d never put that burden on him over something he couldn’t control.

So you made do with what you had, you loved him in other ways, helping him with planning heists, gathering information to make his job easier, making sure he ate, checking up on him every so often (despite his protests), giving him small smiles across the Crow Club when you could see he was getting frustrated. Little things that made your presence known, but that didn’t intrude too much on his life, and you were happy that way.

“Y/N!” Jesper’s voice broke your thoughts as you slid down the rain-soaked tiles of the building you were scaling, landing gracefully on your feet as you shot along the gutter at the bottom and leaped onto the next one.

“What?” You yelled, hoping he would catch it over the raging wind, but all you heard in response was silence, and you realised you could no longer hear the cracking of his boots against the tile. 

Risking a look behind you, you caught your gaze on Jesper’s long figure clambering back up the roof, two others, Inej and Wylan, caught your eye as well, though, where Kaz was you had no idea, and you skidded to a halt, stopping for a moment as you watched the security of the bank you’d just attempted to rob begin gaining on you, their yells rising far above the torrential weather, you watched the other Crows running along the top of the roof, you only caught on to why they were doing this as you turned back, and felt a swift, violent pain crash through your upper arm, you let out an ear piercing scream as the shock and pain overwhelmed you, making your vision blur and your knees buckle underneath you. Almost as soon as you made a noise, you heard Jasper’s pistols shoot rounds into your attacker’s body, quickly able to take out some other guards from his high-up position, yet nobody came to save you as your body tumbled into the freezing harbour water that cascaded against the walls of the bank.

Kaz yelled your name as he watched you disappear off the side of the roof and into the waters below. He had already chosen to stay behind when he realised that you had not heard Jesper’s call to retreat upwards, and he thanked the Saints that he did when he began racing towards the edge of the roof, still screaming your name as he searched for your body in the blackness beneath him.

For the first time in a while, Kaz took a sharp, relieved inhale at the sight of your head poking above the water, and soon your arms came thrashing with it.

As you caught sight of Kaz, you began yelling, mostly unintelligible words, but he heard his name ring in his ears, and he swore he felt his heart tear itself out of his chest when he recognised the fear in your voice.

The fear in your voice that brought him back to that night. With Jordie. Jordie and the boat. And the eerie silence only broken every so often by the groans of the wood and the shifting of clothes against the bodies of the victims that the plague had so cruelly taken.

No. Kaz scolded himself. Stop. Stop, you have to help Y/N. She’ll die if you don’t help her.

He didn’t give himself time to think again before throwing himself into the freeze after you, and almost immediately he felt the same horrible effect that he felt that night with Jordie begin to take hold.

He pushed through it as he kept his mind on you. He couldn’t let you die.

If you died, he didn’t know what he would do with himself, he likes to tell himself that he could get through anything. That grief didn’t affect him anymore.

But with you? You were his star, and if you weren’t there anymore, his sky would go dark.

Kaz could hear your sobs echoing through the night air as he pulled himself through the current and closer to you. Almost as soon as he touched your skin with his gloved hands, he had to stop himself from letting the panic take over, soon becoming grounded once again by your whimpers and pleas for help.

“C-come here, Y/N.” He stammered out, the temperature of the water mixed with the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his speech slurred and awkward as he pulled you towards his chest.

You soon found yourself approaching the harbour, and Kaz made it his first priority to hoist your body up onto the wooden decking, quickly pulling himself up after.

As soon as you were safely out of the water, you backed yourself up against a wall, leaning to the side to cough up what you’d managed to inhale during your panic. Kaz soon made his way over to you, rubbing your back gently as you grasped the wall for support, before falling back against it, still shaking with the sobs that left your lips. You soon felt Kaz move his hand hesitantly to the back of your neck, before taking a deep breath and pulling you in closer to him, holding you tightly.

“I’m sorry…” You cried, taking the collar of his soaked jacket into your hands as he shushed you. “I’m so, so sorry, Kaz, I- I ruined everything. I’m so useless-” You buried your head in his jacket as he shook his head, staring down at you with as serious a stare as he could manage, despite his heart rate going at 30 miles per hour.

“No, no, Y/N, stop it. You didn’t ruin the heist. It was doomed from the start, it was a stupid idea anyway. All that matters is that you’re safe, do you understand me? You’re alright, and you’re with me, and nothing’s going to happen to you.” Kaz’s voice managed to soothe your racing heart and mind, and your gentle nods soothed his own as he dared to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

That was how the Crows found you both that night. Kaz wrapped protectively around you, every so often placing gentle kisses to your hair, and you, his star, encased safely in his arms, having never felt so much love from anybody in your life.

[hughiecampbelle]

Tenderness (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman, Logan

Word Count: 1,572

Requested: "you're so cute." "what did you just say?" " said you look like a boot." With Roman denying he’s absolutely infatuated? - anon

Inspired By: Frances Forever by Mitski

A/N: I absolutely loved your request my love, I really hope I could do it justice!! The things I would do for that boy omg I love him!!! IDC what anyone thinks, he is so Mitski coded it breaks my heart!! 💞 Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Your head rest in the crook of his neck, your face falling into his shoulder. Listening to him breathe, laugh, instigate. Taking in his scent. Summery, wooden, clean. The cool air of the city night makes you squeeze next to him harder, desperately, his coat wrapped around your shoulders. His stubble is scratchy against your forehead, a welcomed sensation. The muscles of his jaw clench and unclench. He’s focused on something you’re not seeing, hearing, something bothering him. The rest of the party hums behind the panes of glass, the after dinner drum of heartbeats fast, fatal, in need of assurance. They speak lightly of million, billion dollar deals over drinks, waiting for desert. It’s you and him braving the moon and stars beneath the clouds, needing a moment to yourselves before you can go back in. Needing a moment to breathe. The rain had stopped, leaving nothing but puddles as evidence of its entire existence. One arm around you, the other rubbing at his eyes. It’s been a long night. How desperate you are to go home, crawl into bed beside him, find your way to his chest. How desperate you are to flee. You’d take off running if he weren’t clinging to you, needy in his own right. One more hour, maybe two. You could make it. As if he were thinking the same, Roman took a shaky breathe in. Not much longer. 

He feared you were desperately, unkindly unprepared to deal with them. The wolves, the monsters who bare their teeth, blood pooling in their spit. All of them ready to tear the next victim to shareds. Tear ligaments, shred tendons, spit out pieces of teeth and tongue. Nothing left but bones. Scraps. He wants to turn the car around. He wants to crawl back into bed, hide under the covers with you where it’s warm and safe and his father cannot get him. You can feel him startle at your touch, your fingers intertwined, your eyes never leaving the rainy city light of car window. He says something just as someone presses the horn of their car. You’re so cute. What was that? I said you look like a boot- fuck. You smile anyways, catching that first part. He thinks you’re cute. If he could, he would have stopped the car, the driver, stop time itself. Whatever you thought you were going into, whatever countless scenarios you’d thought of, it would never be enough. There would never be enough preparation in the world to deal with Logan Roy. He’d never introduced anyone to him before, never brought anyone home. He’d never needed to until he met you. From the very first date, he could picture it all going wrong. Catastrophize everything, then you’ll never be disappointed. You’ll never be let down. He warned you, practically begged you, but your relationship was getting serious and you wanted to meet his family. Not just his father, but his brothers and sister, too. You didn’t want to be a secret. He didn’t want you to be a secret, he just wished you were meeting a different family. That things would be different. That it wouldn't end what you had. He squeezed your hand, for the last time, he truly believed so. One last time. 

Marcia kissed you as soon as the elevator doors closed. She hugged you lightly, smiling widely. Logan was nowhere to be seen, to his relief. She was kind, kind enough, asking about work, about life, how she’s been so excited to meet you. Between then and now a glass had been placed in your hand and refilled quite a bit. You were feeling airy, but not dizzy. You liked Marcia, at least this version of herself she was presenting. You’d heard more than a few things about her, though. Shiv hugged you, too, watching Roman the entire time, as if she couldn’t believe you were real. He just shrugged, an embarrassed grin spreading across his face. He was one lucky guy. Connor was the most authentic, hugging you hard, introducing you to Willa, wanting to know about your day. That kind of love, that kind of light in a room full of falsehoods, it was so endearing. Riveting. You were grateful for Connor, not just in this moment, but for being in Roman’s life. He needed someone like that. Ken was already a little drunk, introducing himself twice. It took Roman no time in order to make jokes at his expense. He seemed nice, though you saw him the least. Kendall, and others alike, kept disappearing upstairs to talk to the king himself. The others, like Gerri, Frank, Karl, all faceless names until then, stories and legends of their own, only smiled at you if you were lucky. They didn’t care that you were there nor did they pay you any attention. They wouldn’t make up their minds about you until he did. You were warned about this. 

In between the greetings, the smiles, the questions and questionable looks from others, you clung to Roman, never out of reach of one another, as if the very thing keeping you alive was each other. Neither of you hungry, you stuck to the wine, the bourbon, the thing that made this night more bearable. Shared glances, smiles, the occasional kiss when no one was looking. You listened very little to the hings they said. The business aspects, everything like that, you weren’t interested in. You didn’t care that Roman was a Roy, what he came from, only that he came out of it unscathed. Alive. Whole. The stories he told you, unable to look you in the eye as he spoke, all the horror stories of his childhood, it was a miracle he’d made it this far. You didn’t like his father even before you met. Anyone with that much power, that much disregard for human lives, it sent a chill up your spine. You assured him more times than you could count that he wasn’t like him at all. That he was kind, and thoughtful, that he was sweet and funny and perfect. Just perfect. 

It wasn’t until the fine China had been set and dinner was almost ready that he wanted to see you. Alone. Roman refused. He pulled you away from the stairs, a look of fear you’d never seen washing across his face. He was petrified. For you, for himself, for everyone. Please, he begged, not alone. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t keep the king waiting, you couldn’t make a bad first impression. You couldn’t show weakness, fear, by showing up with armor. This was the kind of mind game he’d warned you about. You cupped his face in your hands, telling him all of this, reminding him it would only cause Roman pain if he went up there with you, if he lead the way, if he tried to protect you. He watched you climb the stairs, holding your head up high. You were a sacrifice and he was doing nothing to stop it. You were gone a long time. You missed the first three courses. Roman had lost his appetite completely, never taking his gaze off the empty chair beside him, the empty chair at the head of the table. His hands remained in fists, as if squeezing himself down, making himself smaller, would make you magically appear, would make everything okay. Would make you stay with him after all. No one took notice of your absence. No one spoke of Logan's. You appeared together, out of nowhere, you following Logan’s lead. The second you sat down he took a breath, as if the whole time you were gone he forgot how to breathe. You didn’t look upset or mad, you certainly didn’t look like you wanted to break up with him, though you’d always known how to play nice. You knew that a discussion of that nature wasn’t suited over dinner. 

It wasn’t until you were alone outside, on the desk, did you let yourself melt. Relax. Falling into him. He didn’t ask what happened, too afraid, and you didn’t tell. He was right, that man was a monster. Is now the time you tell me we’re done? His voice came out so small you barely heard it. You lift your head, wanting, no, needing to look him in the eye. Those puppy-dog eyes, all of a sudden so sad, so broken. You must’ve looked horrified, at least a little angry, because he receded back into himself. Roman Roy, you listen to me. What that man does or says will never change how I feel about you. Roman’s quiet for a while, this time it’s him leaning on you, deflated, as if everything had left him. This was your favorite part of the night. When it was you and him, against the world. You’d have to go in again, eventually. You’d have to smile at Logan and Marcia, make awkward small talk with Greg. You were happy to see Connor and Shiv and even Kendall again. You’d finally get to know just how Logan felt about you through his evil minions. But that could wait. Your Rome needed you just a little longer all to himself. He needed to know, again and again, that it wasn’t over between you. That you’d both survived this torturous night. A boot huh? Yeah, y’know, a boot. A cute boot. You’re sweet, Rome.

[morbidmorbid]

loser scud coming in his pants agenda !!

a/n: this whole thing was me laying in bed and being like, “omg scud getting incredibly turned on and possibly even creaming his pants by you like pretend fucking him through his clothes.” like that’s all. that one thought became this whole mess.. yikes. also i am obviously on board with scud being into pegging it just makes sense. ok enjoy this for i am very embarrassed and ashamed that i even wrote it, do not look at me.

cw: dry humping, sub!scud, small pinch of dirty talk, smoking

the pellets of the rain become only slightly more apparent when the door creaks open, paints the windows down the buildings hall and then it muffles again.

scud looks heavy and full in his clothes, drenched and it trickles to his pant legs, to his boots and puddles at the floor beneath his shoes. you hear the squelch before you see it. hands dirtied with paints and oils, messied down to your knees.

life was easy when not faced with the outside; of a sort of tranquility that came with the stroke of a brush against canvas paper. the blissful. though chosen, ignorance against what transpired in the world beyond your craft. of building a box amidst the throes of war, closing in and feeling as it rocks and quakes you, but what you can’t see won’t hurt you.

and there was a simplicity that comes with that perspective that could be deemed imprudent almost. when death and destruction would come knocking—or rather bursting through the shards of the windows or displaying itself into gnarly teeth and even more vicious bite—there would be no prior preparation, simply the demise itself. and there was an okay acception with that probability that scud told you he’d grown to loathe. around his cigarette he’d ask you genuinely, and if i lose ya’, then what? and your fighting words: ‘you won’t.’

and when scud retreated because he was too unversed when conveying himself—inproficient in a system where he was expected to carry too many reject emotions—there was guilt evident for you. an irk of it that created an itch where you couldn’t scratch. just want ya’ ready for whatever, his words were so simple, yet so upfront. and he’d kissed you then, buried himself in your neck to seal his statement.

things were like that for a while, until there was no more imagining and death was actually in your face—in the rapid thrum in your chest, in the blood splashed across your skin and the harrowing, echoing gunshot ringing in the air. when blade had saved you, given you a second chance at life in the sake of scud, a decision of to merely live or survive had fueled a riot inside of you. you’d chosen survival and scud had assisted you with weaponry.

your knife, long and seethed, had been tucked back into its pocket upon seeing him at the front door.

“tired of me already? tryna kill me?” he jokes and haphazardly begins to peel out of his wet clothes. it’s a mess of carelessness and he chuckles through an apology when you suck in a breath in regards to the mess.

“i wasn’t a second ago,” you say and approach him. scud swings two arms out for an embrace, instead met with your two hands striping him of his flannel that hadn’t taken as much rain impact as the rest of his clothing. “until you decided to undress yourself right here at the door.”

scud, ever so needy, juts his lower lip out in what should be a pout, only it’s tired. “undress myself,” scud emphasizes with a smile that lacks purity. it’s ridiculous that it’s the only bit he’d heard. “geez, i’m not even all the way in the door yet and you’re already—“

“josh.” a chuckle follows.

scud cackles and eventually comes out of everything soaked, left in a t-shirt, briefs and socks.

the rain persistently drags on. it pitter-patters like a melody when met with the now silence of the apartment. this is a typical; of creaking floor boards singing until tunes play from your speaker, until the tv runs marathons throughout the day, until the window is cracked in the spring and the wind sings through the slits. those minute things made up the void of scud not being there.

but when he was—“thought about ya’ all freakin’ day.”—he was all over you. scud exhales while he fishes his crumpled up pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jeans on the floor.

before he can surrender you to the sofa or the bed or anywhere comfortable enough to dump his body weight against you, you make comfortable just in case. going and slipping out of your dirtied jeans and pulling into a shirt that isn’t as restricting. and when you emerge from the bathroom, he is propped against the frame of the bedroom door with his lighter to the bud.

“did ya’ hear me?” he asks. when you approach him finally, you rise to kiss him dead on his face, only he’s quicker and catches your lips instead. it’s short, sweet, not enough for him if the draw to his eyebrows is telling. he hums in a probing manner in addition to his question, avid in looking for an answer.

“what?” you say in false confusion. you need to hear him say it again for your own amusement.

scud is so zealous, it’s an interesting thing. when you wind around the bed to get seated, he follows you like a puppy, trailing behind with his socked feet and rain damp hair. and he sits so impossibly close, a suffocating lack of space, thigh to thigh. though it’s expected and completely usual, so when he sinks in and leans over to bury a nose in the junction of your chest and neck, you embrace him.

“said i thought about you today,” the words are pressed tender and cold against your skin. scud seems to have abandoned his smoke for intimacy, cigarette pinched between his fingers held a distances away by his extended arm. “all good things. great things, actually.”

you pull a candy from the scattered pile on the nightstand. “right. so i’m guessing things are running smoothly at the shop, then?” you reach out for his cigarette and scud doesn’t fight to keep it. instead he watches as you adjust your hold with it, watches as you tease him into opening up for it and taking an inhale with the guidance of your hand.

his eyes dilate a bit then, looking eased. “as smooth as they can be.”

“blade treating you well?” you pull it away and then he’s retrohaling it.

“mhm,” he’s idly responding now, disengaged where the conversation leads but seemingly completely taken with what he knows comes next.

“gonna stare all night or what?” like a feline, you give him an opening and he is on you in mere seconds. he’s a man in your lap, much larger than yourself.

the night actually begins here; with him in your lap high and needy, dazed and mesmerized by the simplicity of you aiding his smoke. this is where it starts and you’re left unsure whose hands the blood is on.

inhale. there’s a piece of candy held between your teeth, taunting, and you tap fingers against scud’s jaw to which he opens up. slipping it to him teeth to teeth, kissing his lips closed, kissing them again as they consume it. exhale. scud outwardly swears. his chest rises and falls in quick succession, hips jerking where they sit. “woah, easy.” you mock laugh in acknowledgment to his actions, free hand stilling him at the thigh.

“‘kay, fuck you for that,” and he both means it and doesn’t.

scud is best like this. when his worn fingers aren't dirtied and he's not face deep in chancy enginery. when he's lax, but pent up all the same, when he's not thinking because he doesn't have to anymore, because now you sit and pick out the nasty and the swarming bits wedged into the mush in his brain. when he lets you.

so you take advantage in the way you bring a hand up into his hair, in the way you un-tossle the frays, put them back in place but contrarily begin to take him apart. scud comes back for more with his face pressed against yours. he’s open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, then the apple of your cheek, then your ear. over and over and it’s like a pattern that he’s following.

you bring a hand down to his abdomen, feeling the fabric of his boxers against your palm. “well?” you drawl with a smile. scud has an eager hand placed on top of your idle one—like he’s ready to get what’s left of his clothes off on your call. “you never told me what you thought about.”

scud chuckles against your skin. one, two, three more presses of his lips before he speaks. “ain’t it obvious?”

“wanna hear it, smart ass.”

scud, ever so persistent in his kissing bombardment, places one on the corner of your lips, takes some of the sweet and sour with him. it has your fingertips squeezing around his waist, broad in your palm. in result, his muscles there constrict noticeably, fighting to still his own body.

he has never necessarily been shy or guarded with his words. he was the things others couldn’t say, reeking of envied self-assurance. so it’s nothing when he speaks unashamedly, says, “thought about when you fuck me with your strap thing or whatever.” and, god, while he was typically blatant at the mouth, this was something else.

when he pulls back from you, looks you in the eyes and tells you he wants it with his mere gaze, you maneuver around his back for a brisk moment to stub out his cigarette. your two free hands envelope him entirely; warm palms cupping his jaw and rubbing against the growing stubble that resides there, and he’s bringing both hands up to press against your ribcage.

“and ya’ know somethin’ else?” he begins again with a poorly concealed grin. his hips against yours start a languid roll. “wanked it so hard and so much today thinkin’ about it that i fucked up my wrist. had to switch ‘em halfway.” his words are low and slow like the blink of his eyes.

“what the hell, josh.” you snort and run slow thumbs over the swell of his cheeks, move them higher to push back the strands of his hair.

and he responds with an unenunciated ‘yep’ and a slow peck to your lower lip. it’s sweet, but lacks innocence. a gesture of permission, a question, an impatience that you can feel when he actually seeks out his pleasure. when you curtly nod and return his kiss this time like he’d been feening for, and he takes it heavily.

he’s rock solid where he rolls against you.

you consider crude reciprocation, but wait it out in a sick need to see him try to get himself off. that never proved a difficult task, scud could be such a slut whenever he wanted to be. many times you’d pulled orgasms out of him while he remained clothed, heaving chest and wandering hands when he’d come undone from handjobs through his thin sweats.

of previous instances of having him laid pliant against the sheets while you rubbed his pert nipples raw over his t-shirt and he had made such a big mess of himself over that.

he swears on your lips then and licks at your teeth.

you make to fuel his earlier musings that seemed to had blissfully plagued him. “don’t you miss it?” your strap: long, thick and pink in color—scud’s personal preference. “it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” a week isn’t a long while, but for how often scud subdues you to sex it seems like an eternity even to you.

he’s becoming looser with every passing thrust, rutting against your upper thighs with an almost untamed vigor. his hands are squeezing and squeezing, digging into your waist and the knowledge that he needs that to stay grounded right here outweighs the sting.

his body responds before he can piece together the words, cock leaking through the fabric and painting his boxers a deeper blue. it’s amusing to see it build up so rapidly, like he’d been waiting all day for this and he has. watching as he gets himself off in such a lewd way and knowing that this would not suffice twists a knot into your stomach. a hungry one that only forms in the light of making sure scud is taken care of, even if it takes until the world stops its spinning.

you grip his face in one demanding hand. “hey, don’t you?” you ask again, bringing him back and watching his eyes glaze over. it always came down to bringing him back. he runs on batteries, it seems, and no amount of twisting, turning or demanding can shut his rutting hips down, only the switch wedged deep into his spine.

“yes, yes,” he admits without qualms. never any qualms with him. “s’all i ever fuckin’ think about.”

“can you show me how well you ride it?” a feigned moral question. “please?”

scud comes to a slow with a doltish stare. “but you don’t even have—“

“i know that.”

a shame to make him think when he no longer held the capacity to. you know it from how low his eyelids now sit, how kiss swollen his lips have swelled, how hard his covered cock feels against your belly. and he doesn’t stop even when faced with a task that he hasn’t quite picked up on yet, turns minutely to mouth at the hand placed on his cheek. you let him for a moment, indulge him even in teasing the thumb against ready lips—open and pliant lips that part with anticipation. in between your legs throb looking at him.

babysitting his weight, you move hands to underneath his thighs, lifting him only to bring him back down. it lacks that gentleness that you are outside of this, only a nasty counterpart that is produced from a seed of scud’s sensuality. he’s a punched out gasp at that, always very reactive.

“felt that?” and it’s entirely hypothetical, but it’s that tidbit that usually gets him going in the first place; the sexual imagery of something he wants so badly just at the tip of his fingers. “you always take the first one so well.”

scud lets a slippery wet moan pass, chest puffed up in hotness, and before he gets comfortable like this, “come on, up.” you order and he always complies. he complies in lifting up slightly on his knees and pressing back down, rutting and rubbing on you and against you after meeting your hips again—a messy method he’s creating.

he becomes frantic with it then after two or three test runs, going up and coming down hard, all weight and cock and beauty. the wholeness of his face begins to redden with overexertion. it reaches his ears that are trickling with sweat, his hairline moist all the same. then he grunts, “i feel it, fuck, i feel it,” into the hand that he brings over his mouth.

“you’re just the prettiest thing,” scud runs well on exterior flatteries. “so manly, but so pretty.” when his back arches as he comes down against your pelvis for the umpteenth time, the signs are all there. “getting ripped apart by my big cock.”

“oh, holy fuck.” he cries around the fist shoved between teeth, all saliva and red knuckles. “makin’ me feel—“

you don’t give him room. “you gonna cum?” because he’s a mix of swears and a shift of rubbing and riding you, looking drunk from being taken—moreso the thought of you taking him. it’s such a lewd thing to get off too, something so niche, something so phantom, but it wholly gets to him.

he begins to plead now, greedy. “touch me.”

“no, you’re almost there. come on, give me a good one.” because he absolutely can and he absolutely will simply by how taken apart he currently is.

scud could reach octaves even you couldn’t at the peak of his pleasure. the curses against his lips, the whines abbreviated by how rough he bounces down onto you, the groans when met with restricting but relieving friction against the tip of his bubbling cock. all of that tipped off with your permission to absolutely destroy himself in your space is seemingly enough because his back bows forwards—this is the sign, the siren before the tornado—and he cums right there long and hard.

desperate hands grip tightly into your shirt, muscles in his stomach convulsing with each spurt. it’s the wet patch growing at sharp speeds, load after load shamelessly untouched. with him there’s always so much to receive, so much he gives you, how he seems to never be satiated.

so for a while he rides the peak of it while you kiss his ‘o’ parted lips, patient with a coiling in the pit of your own stomach.

[byechristopher]

⠀

In Another Life.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST.

Author's note: omg hi, again. You'll soon find out how much I love angst, trauma and just "dark" fics. It's a way to express myself every once in a while. I hope you all like it, if you have any requests in mind, feel free to let me know. I will make it up to you all with some fluff, I promise, lol. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: (not proof-read) this is pure angst, mentions of death, coping with death in general, trauma bonding. If any of this is triggering to you, do not read, please. Have a great day, instead.

Playlist:

It is only 6:00AM and I am up and running, ready to start my long day, although my sluggish gait says otherwise. I always loved waking up so early in the morning – it gave me time to start doing things when people were still sleeping. It is always a struggle to keep myself awake, though.

"I'm outside."

The screen lights up and I can see Chris' name from here – he must be outside already. I sigh and I quickly put my jacket and scarf on, not forgetting my boots, of course. With my bag in my hand, I quickly leave the house, trying to be as quiet as possible so that my mom doesn't wake up.

Chris is waiting in the car, I take a better look at my surroundings – the fog makes it hard for me to see, it's dark and it's cold, and the humidity makes it look like it rained.

"Hey, Chris. Thanks for picking me up." I mumble, he nods with an understanding look on his face. He's got that sickening purple colour under his eyes and his skin is even paler than usual. We match, he looks like a mess, too.

How couldn't he, anyway? It was a difficult day today. It's only been three years and how could we ever forget?

Me and Chris have known each other for a long time. Ever since we were babies – our families were very close. That was until my parents got divorced and we never saw my father ever again; made my mom isolate herself. My father came back one day, asking for forgiveness for leaving like this. Not from my mom, from me. I didn't want to trust him but I still talked to him every now and then. Now, Chris never really liked me and I never really liked him, it's not like we ever had an actual conversation. Before something terrible happened, to the both of us. On the same day. On the same plane. The plane crashed – my father happened to be there and Chris' best friend happened to be there.

We were both devastated so we found ourselves hanging out more than usual – is it called trauma bonding? I think so. That's what we did. Bonded over trauma. Because that's what we needed most; a person who knows and feels what we feel, who goes through the same experience. I don't think it was he healthiest thing to do, but who is really healthy inside on this earth?

"Give me, like.. fifteen minutes. I'll be back, okay?" he says and I give him a reassuring hug, pecking his cheek. I nod, watching him go visit his best friend's grave while I visit my father's.

"I can't believe it's already been three years since you've been gone." I chuckle, making sure everything is clean and the flowers are nicely put in the vase, "right when you were about to actually spend time with me, hm?" I can feel the tears in my eyes, and every time I speak, it's like I'm digging an invisible knife deeper into my heart.

I don't know how long it's been because I'm still cleaning and trying not to think about anything, but I see Chris walking over to me. It's so obvious that he's been crying, but he offers a smile anyway. His nose is red, it's kind of cute.

"You feeling okay?" he wraps an arm around my shoulders, giving me a reassuring squeeze. I nod.

"What did I always tell you? Everything happens for a reason." I chuckle, wiping the tears away from my eyes as we walk away, and towards the car.

"I used to hate hearing that. But I believe it now." he nods and clears his throat, "Connor believed it, too." it took him a while to say his best friend's name without crying. I told him that Connor wouldn't be happy to see him crying like this – that was the only way to make him stop.

"I gotta go to work, now. But we'll meet later, yes?" I say, wrapping my arms around his waist, looking up. The combination of the sky, his tears and his pale skin make his eyes go icy blue, I can't help but smile a little bit. He nods and cups my cheeks, bringing me closer to him to give me a soft kiss on the lips.

I'm not sure what me and Chris have going on. We definitely hang out a lot, we kiss, I basically have all of my stuff in his house, we have sex, but we've never said anything about relationship, or anything like that for that matter. We've been going through the most traumatic and difficult experience in our lives, so I feel like we desperately need the affection but we're the only ones who feel the same. So we just.. do stuff together. I try not to think about it too much.

I definitely not want to think about it when I'm in his arms. We're in front of the fireplace, sitting down on the carpet. I'm sitting in between his legs with my back pressed against his chest, and his arms wrap all the way around my shoulders and knees (that are pressed to my chest), keeping me warm.

"I'm so glad to have you here with me, being by my side on this horrible day, every year." he whispers in my ear and I close my eyes.

"So am I. You're making me feel like I'm not as alone as I thought I was." I whisper back and let my head fall on his shoulder, turning my head so that I'm able to look up at him. We sit in silence for a bit.

"I was thinking.. what you always say. Everything happens for a reason. What if.. what if all of this never happened? What if they were both still alive, what if our families kept being this close, what if we kept hating each other.. would we still find a way to be where we are now?" his voice is low and steady, I can see the fire moving in the reflection of his glistening eyes, "or was this tragedy meant to happen for us to find what we wanted in each other?"

I stay silent for a little bit. I've thought about this a million times and every time makes me go crazier than the previous one, "is love supposed to grow in souls and bodies that are filled with so much pain? Because if so, then it's nothing like what they taught us love would feel like."

"Do you think love is what we feel for each other?" he presses a kiss on my warm cheek.

"I don't know." I say truthfully, "I think that we both find shelter in each other's pain. We feel the need to be heard, to be understood, and then we want to hear the other, to understand their pain. To help each other, to be there whenever they might need, to care."

"Isn't that what love is?" he asks innocently, "in its most tragic form?" he looks me in the eyes and smiles softly.

"I suppose so.. yeah.." I say because, indeed, love could also bloom in shattered hearts, it doesn't always have to be flowers and rainbows, "and to answer your question.. I think I would definitely imagine myself loving you, without all of these." my voice is as soft as it can get.

"I would definitely fall in love with you, too." he says, looking into my eyes. And for a moment, I imagine us just like this. In a life where we would be happier. In a life where we would be able to love each other, without anything holding us back, in a life where we could keep the people that we wanted in our lives. In a life where we would have the space and time to express our feelings, understand our feelings.

"So, stay with me forever and even longer than that.." he says and I smile, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck, all the way up to his cheek and lips, "I might be able to become someone who loves you even in the good times."

"That's a promise, then. Because I'm definitely staying, till I'm ready to love you in the good times, too." I smile and slowly turn around to face him this time, wrapping both of my arms and legs around him, like a koala.

He laughs, he's hugging me and kissing me softly, "want me to make you some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, please."

⠀

[hotxcheeto]

omgomgomg so i saw that u write for tess & when i tell u i never screamed louder!!1!1!!

can we pretty please get a toothrottingly fluffy smut where its readers first time & tess is just like gentle & sweet towards reader and making sure theyre comfy and stuff, sorry if this is kind of all over the place this is actually my first time requestin somethin 🫶🏽

━ 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Tess Servopoulos x Fem-bodied!Reader ( Written as game vers. Tess but can be read as both! )

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, v fingering ( r receiving ), oral sex ( r receiving ), mentions of alcohol / getting drunk ( in passing ), super fluffy cause omg they're cute, top!tess, bottom!reader, ( let me know if I missed something with the gender I tried to be as gender neutral as possible )

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope ( it's been hours and it's 2am I'm tired )

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I'm so happy that I was the first you requested for! I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK TO LONG IT'S BEEN A ROUGH TIME. BUT ILY!!!! I hope you enjoy!! <3

Game tess has no gifs unlike HBO Tess :( They're both equally hot they should have equal gifs !!!!!!

REBLOGS APPRECIATED AND NOTICED

The lightning flickered against your eyes every time it made it's appearance, it's partner, thunder, never far behind. The loud sounds feeling as though they shook the entire complex and everything around it, even the QZ walls shuddered. But you payed no mind, staring down at the guards in the road. Very few, but they were there.

They'd talk back and forth to forget about the rain, ignore the chill of the wind nipping their faces. Talk about before or pretend the past never happened.

Sometimes you could hear them, but tonight you couldn't. Not with the rain and the loud banging on the decrepit buildings. Sometimes you wondered whether or not the buildings in the QZ would last much longer with storms like this.

Instead though, on this night, you just watched them, then sometimes the rain droplets, imagining them as two cars racing one another down the glass. As if you were a kid in the back of your childhood van.

The door then suddenly opened up behind you, but you didn't turn around. Recognizing how specific her boots sounded against the wood flooring, how she cursed underneath her breath and threw her stuff onto the table with a thump.

You knew who it was without needing to turn around so you kept staring. Eyes droopy but you were wide awake.

"What's so entertaining?" You heard the slight sass in her voice, the tone that never left even when she was being deadly serious. It made you smile, turning your head to the side to look at her.

"Everything and nothing." You took in a breath of the cold air that crept passed the window seal. "Gotta make do in the apocalypse."

She stood at island counters, hands spread apart and leaning her weight on the tile. Staring at you with a stupid smirk on her face.

"What took you so long?" Tess knew the question was coming but that didn't mean she wanted to answer it. "Ran into some trouble-" "What?" "-but I got out of it. Just some assholes that thought they wanted to mess with Joel and I."

You hadn't seen Joel in a while, but you reckon he hadn't changed a teeny, tiny bit since the last time you had. You took to liking to the grumpy man, you trusted him to make sure Tess came back breathing.

Despite is unfavorable gaze and his harsh wording.

"Are you hurt?" You stood from the chair, taking fast strides towards her while she shook her head, still smiling. "No, didn't even bump a hair on my head. I promise." A bit of a white lie, but she didn't want to worry you.

"Swear?" Tess quietly nodded, looking at you run your eyes over and over her face while turning her head back and forth. Looking for any scratch or slightly discolored patch of skin that wasn't there that morning.

"Say it." She grabbed your hands from her cheeks and holding them in her own. "Swear."

You leaned forwards to kiss her, noticing her slightly chapped lips and the mostly soaked in lip oil you'd let her borrow while out and about. Wanting to hide one of your favorite parts of her away from the unforgiving wind.

It didn't take her a second to kiss back either, grabbing your hips to keep you there until she decided to pull back. Grabbing either side of your cheeks and tilting your head down to kiss your forehead. Resting her mouth against your hair as she thought.

"How 'bout you go get ready for bed, I'll get my shit put away, okay?" Pulling away from her you raised an eyebrow. "And what am I getting out of this?" "You ain't gonna get anything you keep asking questions."

You huffed but shuffled off, squeezing her hand as you did so .

Tess and you were never supposed to go this far. Roommates. Someone to get drunk with to forget or tell stories and be each other shoulder to maybe shed a tear on. Never go further than that.

But it did.

You weren't sure who fell first, you just knew you did and it was hard.

She felt as if she was too old for you, even though you weren't the youngest yourself. You did know that there were some things that she had experienced that you just hadn't because of the world's terrible timing. But you never felt too young for her.

Just perfect, actually.

You were barely friends back then, and yet, you trusted each other more than most married couples. But, once it did go further it also went unspoken.

You were hers, as she was yours. Corny, but so were you.

As Tess would say anyway.

You laid down to wait for her, looking at the closed curtains in your small shared room. Only fitting a tiny closet and a bed, not that you had much for the closet to hold.

"Scooch."

Tess appeared behind you, smiling while watching you scoot towards the other side of the bed to make room for her. Feeling her arms wrap around your middle and her breath against your neck send shivers down your spine.

"What about your day?" Tess muttered, kissing the nape of your neck. "Boring. I did some odd jobs all day but they didn't last long. Mostly waited on your slow ass." You felt her laugh against your skin, chuckling to herself while shaking her head.

"Slow, huh?" "Mhm. Too busy getting jumped to come home to me, right?" Her grip tightened when she let a sarcastic 'ha ha', sitting up and resting her head on her hand.

"C'mere." Tess lightly gripped your face, giving you a much hungrier kiss than she had earlier when you had initiated. No, this one had need behind it, want seeping from it.

"I missed you today." She whispered, kissing you again and letting herself taste the mint contraband you'd been chewing earlier. "I missed you too." You breathed, a nervous feeling pooling in your lower belly.

"Fuck I missed this." Tess hated leaving in the mornings, and the afternoons, especially the nights as well. Tess just hated leaving, but she knew she had to if you both wanted to survive.

Her hand crept down to your sleeping pants, running her fingers over the band that was low on your hips. The rough pads feathering over your sensitive skin. Caressing your inner thigh through the thin, withered fabric.

Inches away where you began to felt the need for her. A need you hadn't felt in a long, long time. One you'd never satisfied, and you sure never had someone else satisfy.

"Tess." You pulled back slightly, a bit taken aback by your reaction just as she was. "Shit, I'm sorry, fuck I should've-" "It's... it's not that."

Your expression spoke a thousand words, shamefully glancing away from her and at anything else in the room to distract yourself.

"You're.." It was deadly silent besides the rain banging against the glass panes. "Y/n, you didn't think to tell me?" "M'sorry I didn't.."

Her voice held no malice, only genuine confusion making you finally look at her. Seeing her more concerned you didn't feel comfortable enough to tell her, the thought of you hiding it maliciously never crossing her mind.

"I was so young... when the world went to shit.." You trailed off in a broken whisper, trying to explain yourself but you didn't have to.

Not to her. Never to her.

Not with something like this.

"Hey, hey look at me." And you did, meeting her darkened eyes only illuminated by the light coming from the sheer covered window.

"You don't have to do all that. Not with me. It's up to you."

"I want to." You spoke, so low and soft, your voice sounded like a drug to her. Nervous and ready for what was to come.

You trusted her.

Tess looked away from your eyes and down at the hem of your oversized shirt, unable to give her a view of your silhouette that she loved so much.

Her hand moved to pull it up and over your boobs, lightly brushing the very tips of her fingers against your nipples. Getting a few light whimpers to fall from your lips.

"Look at that." Tess moved over your body, kissing your collarbone and then your chest. Making her way all the way down to your sensitive bud, licking your tit to get a reaction from you.

And it worked, her mouth making your breath halt, feeling the warmth wrap around your entire boob. Then quickly feeling her move to the other, only kissing it before giving your belly a peck. Sitting up again.

Tess scanned your face, leaning down to kiss your lips.

"You tell me when it's too much, got it? You tell me when to stop."

"Okay. Okay I will."

Looping around your waistband, Tess pulled the pants from your legs. Making the pulse between your thighs even worse as the layer was stripped away. Even squeezing them together to be rid of the uncomfortable feeling.

"God, you're so... shit just look at you." You felt your face warm, invisible to her eye but to you, you were burning up. A fever created from her words mixed with her starved eyes raking over your body like she hadn't ate in decades.

"Spread your legs baby, c'mon." And you did, her arms hooking under your knees to bring you even closer to you. The woman grinning when you shrieked in surprise at her sudden tug.

"There you go, so good for me. To think no one else has gotten to see any of this. Some unlucky fucks."

"Lucky for you though." You giggled, her warm palms trailing your exposed hips. Hooking under the tiny elastic underwear band.

"You sure about this?" Her eyes flicked to yours again.

"Positive."

Tess than pulled them slowly from your legs, a string of slick following after them making her own cunt ache at the sight.

"God, Y/n." She tossed them aside to find another time. Leaning down between your thighs. "All for me." Tess kissed your inner thigh, again and again while inching towards your heat.

"Ready baby?" You nodded quickly, the pain of your own arousal becoming too much for you to handle all on your own. "Yes, please, please Tess."

Her mouth soon wrapped around your clit, tongue tracing an infinity sign over the sensitive bud over and over. Not stopping and not slowing, just again and again while watching your reactions.

Your legs felt like they went numb, head falling back in to the pillows while loud babbles tumbled from your lips. Wanting to praise her but you couldn't. The feeling was so alien and so much, you didn't know what to say. Until you did.

"Oh- oh my god.. please more Tess... please.." Your hands went to her hair, the other to your mouth to try it's best the muffle the sounds. But you weren't sure of well it would work when you couldn't keep it there, instead gripping the sheets when she pushed your leg further to the side getting an even better angle to fuck you in.

"I'm gonna do something, okay, you tell me if it's too much." You hummed, a bit lost in your cotton-stuffed mind feeling like you were lost in a fog and couldn't find yourself a way out.

Tess's finger appeared at your hole, very slowly pushing inside your body. A whine of discomfort filling her ears and she hated it, only wanting it to be over as soon as it could be. Wanting your body to stop tensing so hard.

"I know, I know, but it's gonna feel good I promise." The woman kissed your thigh again, then your clit, beginning her assault on your bundle of nerves to distract the rest of you away from the twinges of pain.

And it began to, not only her warm tongue sending so much pleasure through your lower half, now a curled finger ran along your walls. The rest of you beginning to relax as her movements sped up, but only the more you began to get used to it.

"Tess... more. I want more please." You looked down at her, never having felt what you were at the moment, and you couldn't get enough.

Tess added yet another finger and giving you another deliciously nice stretch, the woman sitting up a bit, the thumb of her other hand circling your clit.

"How's that, huh?" She watched you nod, looking down at your cunt while she kept you full. Moving in and out at a faster pace while keeping her thumb going in whatever motion she decided.

"G-good.." You responded, "reall-ly good." "That's it." Tess went faster, kissing your lips, muffling your loud moans that wouldn't stop even if you tried. "You're doing so good." "Tess.. oh fuck.. I-"

"Come Y/n. Let go. Let go for me baby." The high-pitched shriek was cute, she thought. Watching you come undone on her fingers.

Pleasure shooting through your entire body, but her movements never stopped. Only going faster, the circular motion on your clit making you joke and try and squeeze your thighs together.

It was too much.

You'd never felt something like that, something so strong and so pleasure-filled, not in a world like this.

Your mind went into a hazed mush while you mumbled and cried out things to her. Your hand scratching at her upper arm while she whispered sweet things to you, calming you down while a tear or two trickled down your hot cheeks.

"You did so good. You did so good, baby."

"Tess... oh fuck." You cried out.

"I know, I know."

And you did, the only thing auditory besides the now slowed rain. Tess kissing the space between your eyebrows and then your nose. Finally moving down to your lips.

"You did so good." Her fingers pulled away from you making you whimper. "I really liked that." You mumbled, Tess smiling and letting out a light chuckle. "Yeah?" You nodded in response.

"M'glad it was you." You then whispered, your blinking began to slow as the exhaustion followed the adrenaline crash. Tess flustered in the darkness, the woman was glad you couldn't see it.

"Get some rest, I'll clean you up, okay?" She kissed your neck, sitting up just as you rolled over, laying almost completely on her side of the bed.

"Okay. But you better come back." "Well you better be out of my spot."

You huffed, "But it's comfier."

a/N: 2:22

[needsmth]

Hey! I’m KINDA new here so Idk how it works? But Anyway could i request a Edmund x g/n reader. Where there’s a storm and Edmund is looking for reader beacuse he’s worried, and finally he finds them in the middle of courtyard just to see them having the best time of their life running dancing spinning and enjoying the weather? (i like to Imagine that at that moment he would think something like "I wanna be theirs” iykyk)

If it’s not a problem ofc! And thank you <333

Thank you so much omg!! I loved writing this one and I look forward to getting to know you more :)

A disclaimer to all the others reading though, the reader will identify as she/her as I'm not very good at writing with non-binary pronouns. I deeply apologise.

Also, I highly recommend that you read this with the song 'Lovers Rock' by TV Girl. It just fits the mood and I swear you won't regret it <3

!! WARNINGS !!

- slight cussing (literally just one swear word)

- tooth-rotting fluff :p

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Edmund is not worried, alright? In fact, he's been feeling himself as of late. But that's the problem. He's only been feeling himself when she's around.

And yes, there's very heavy rain today so there's plenty of reason to worry. Especially since Lucy last recalled seeing his best friend in the courtyard, which, he'd gladly remind to anyone, is open-air.

And no, he's definitely not speeding down the long, pristine hallways of Cair Paravel towards the courtyard. He simply isn't. He's just... Walking at a faster pace.

Edmund pays no mind as he passes the meeting room, the throne room, his own bedroom. That's not important right now.

When he reaches the steps that lead to the courtyard, he takes note of the very heavy rain. (Susan, being the most helpful person in the world says there is probably a high chance of lightning striking.)

Edmund eyes at his navy blue silk and cream-coloured linen outfit and then back to the rain. 'Fuck it,' he thinks, stepping out into the unmerciful rain that instantly ruins his hair and clothes.

Never mind that, he needs to find her.

His dress-boots stomp against the slosh that was grass and tried avoiding puddles as best as he could. Lord knows what Peter would say to him later.

The young king shakes his mind off his older brother. Not the time, he reminds himself.

Now that he's finally here in the courtyard himself, he realises how much he's never spent his time here. (A bad situation to be finally realising this, but oh well) He made up his mind on how he's going exploring again when he's not in such a state and when the fields are dry and the sun is peeking from the sky.

He continues wandering for a good three minutes before noticing the spin of a light-pink dress in the distance.

His dark eyes widen, little specks of hope visible in the irises. He rushed to where he saw it, and there you were.

But instead of the cold, wet, miserable you that he'd previously imagined, it was actually quite the opposite.

You twirled yourself around, his presence to you unknown. Your eyes were closed, but your smile shone just as bright. Occasionally, Edmund would hear a little laugh from you, an indication of the fun you were having.

His eyes widen again, but instead of surprise, it's filled with cheeky, malicious intent.

Tip-toeing quietly so you don't hear him, (although the rain made it hard to hear anything, really) his strong arms wrap around your waist, enveloping you into a hug.

You open your eyes with adrenaline, before recognising his strong jaw and milky-white skin. You laugh in relief, pulling him impossibly closer to you. When you open your eyes again, he has a handsome grin playing at his lips before he leads you to dance.

It's not like any other dance you've learned to teach yourself for all the balls and parties you and the Pevensies had been invited to.

It's a ridiculous dance, really, if you think hard about it.

The way Edmund just keeps shimmying you around him and twirling you in ways you never thought he could, it's childish of him. A side he rarely shows but will always be open to you.

Although, you did recognise some of the steps from the more elegant dances, like the waltz. When asked, he smiles wistfully and replies, "Once a king, always a king."

Most of the time your laughter filled the air, only the dark clouds and trees as your witness.

Suddenly, you stop your feet from moving. Edmund catches onto this and stops as well. His hands were still very much around your wrist and on your lower back, however.

You hear each other's panting and the both of you look up to see a wide smile on the other's face.

You take the moment of silence as an excuse to drag your eyes around his lean figure, studying the way his wet hair shone (Very attractively, though you wouldn't admit it to him. Ever.)

God, she's beautiful, he thinks, oblivious to your shifty eyes and red face. Just how much I want her by my side... He continues in his head, How much I want her to be mine.

Of course, he hadn't said this out loud. That's just plain stupid.

But one day, he'll say it. He will. It's a promise.

And with the beam of your face that you make every time you see him... Oh yes, it's a promise.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Hope you enjoyed!! Special thanks to @lidlowa for requesting this in the first place. Your prompt had me kicking my feet in the air and shi.

[andromeda-galaxy2877]

RAN HERE FULL SPEED okok so could you do 8, 14, and 21 all in one story?? If possible. Totally didn’t pick those for maximum angst or anything nooooo /s

Omg hi Ferr!! First writing I'm posting in awhile not beta read by you /pf

Ahem. Maximum angst, you say?

(WARNING! This is going to contain blood, death, and descriptions of corpses. Please be warned!)

Link to original post with the prompts!

https://www.tumblr.com/promptsbytaurie/737257254775111680/if-anyone-wants-to-send-specific-prompts-in-my-ask?source=share

8: “Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.”

14: "You just watched them die."

21: “Please be okay. Please be okay, please be okay—”

The moment the clock hit 10pm April knew something was wrong.

It was Friday night, the rain pattering gently against the glass of her window. April watched the trickles of water slowly make their way down, collecting at the bottom. Jupiter Jim: Back to the Moon?! Again?! Sitting in her DVD player, the 18-year-old curled under a blanket as she stared down at her phone.

No texts.

No calls.

No word.

Absolutely nothing from her little brothers.

Sure, they were only supposed to be there thirty minutes ago. Yeah, it certainly wasn’t the first time they were late— the four of them once Busted through her window two hours late, sporting a few pizza boxes and a story about some pigeon holding pizza in its beak— apparently the second time that had happened to them, so it was a big deal.

But they knew better. They knew better, after what had happened to all of them six months ago. After the invasion, after she almost lost all of her little brothers in one fell swoop.

They had been planning this all week. For them to not arrive…

“Damn it.” April muttered, throwing her phone to the side and watching it bounce right off of her couch, her youngest brother’s voicemail still playing out. She stood up abruptly, not even bothering to change out of her pajamas as she grabbed a coat and her baseball bat. “You boys better be okay so I can kick your ass, I swear…”

Her door slammed shut behind her, and the moment it clicked shut she took off running. Booting up the tracker app she had on her phone, quickly locking onto Donnie’s tracker with fumbling fingers. All four of them were together, in some alley. About four blocks away.

‘If these idiots stopped over another goddamn pizza pigeon just to give me a heart attack I’m going to kill them.’

She barely remembered her race to get there. As she turned the corner, she had a maelstrom of thoughts going through her head— violent images of the Krang being back, finding them standing over her brothers’ lifeless bodies— or her turning the corner to find them all safe, alive, okay—

…

But…

Neither option was correct.

April felt the bat slide out of her hand, barely hearing it impact the wet asphalt as her ears began to ring. As she felt the ground be ripped out from under her.

A metallic smell filled the air. April could barely breathe as she beheld the massacre in front of her.

A dozen men in government uniforms, bloodied and ripped apart. Blood coated the walls, dripped and puddled in the rainwater. Streamed from their black coats like rivers. Her gaze wobbled as it rose past them, what was standing in the middle of them.

Donnie.

Her little brother was clutching his bo staff tight, breath heaving and shaking as he silently stared at the scene around him. The look on his face was terrifying.

“Donnie…? Did you—?” April couldn’t finish her choked out words.

Donnie didn’t even react. But the blood on the end of his bo spoke for itself. Going up his arms to his elbows, covering his plastron.

“Okay.” April’s voice wobbled as she slowly walked towards him. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do— fuck.” The air was punched from her as she finally beheld what was at the end of the alley. The clear reason why Donnie had done this.

Their brothers.

Her baby brothers.

Raph, Leo, and Mikey. All laying there, crumpled forms and limbs twisted in ways that they shouldn’t be. Crimson soaking them, the rain barely making a dent in the bloodstains.

“No!” April rushed forward, darting right past Donnie to their sides. She collapsed to her knees, reaching out to grab Raph’s shoulder with a violently trembling hand. “Please be okay. Please be okay, please be okay—” Her voice rose multiple octaves in her hysteria. 

Raph’s eyes opened, bringing her momentary relief. Her heart broke as he let out a tiny whine, reaching his hand out for her. She immediately took it, forcing a shaky smile onto her face as she mustered up as much determination as she could. “You’re gonna be fine, big guy.” She murmured, rubbing his arm. ‘Where is he hurt how bad is it how bad is it how bad is it—’ “Everything’s okay, your big sister is here now, okay? I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

Raph’s only answer was another short, soft whimper.

And then his eyes went dull. His weak grip went slack, his head hitting the pavement with a sickening, soft thump.

April couldn’t breathe.

Her little brother, her baby brother, gone. Just like that. In an instant, torn away from her and the rest of their family. Their protector, the foundation of their family, the rock that kept them all afloat through the storms—

Gone.

April’s gaze slowly lifted to the brothers curled under his arm. The ones he shielded, even in death. She could immediately tell that Leo was gone already. She had no idea for how long, but necks should not bend like that. His eyes were blank, lifeless. Blood slowly seeping a trail from his mouth down his jaw, dripping.

And then Mikey. Her poor, sweet baby brother. She let out a choked sob as she saw him weakly holding onto his brothers, the agony in his eyes all she could see for a moment…until he went limp. Dead, just like the other two.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

Her brothers were gone.

April clenched her teeth as she let out an agonized scream, clenching her fists and banging them into the pavement— ignoring the sickening crack, the sharp pain that suddenly flooded her— it was nothing compared to the grief she felt. April shakily reached a hand out, closing Leo’s eyes and then Raph’s. 

“What are you doing?” 

Donnie’s hoarse, angry voice came from behind her. Immediately catching her attention.

April looked up over her shoulder slowly, staring up at him. She couldn’t say a word, her throat closed up.

“You just watched them die.” Donnie sounded breathless, his eyes filled with pure malice as he stared down at her. Bo trembling in his hand. “You didn’t— why didn’t you DO SOMETHING?!”

April swallowed back the flood of agony that wrought her at being blamed. “I— there was nothing I could’ve done, Dee.”

“You didn’t even TRY!” Donnie exploded, gripping his staff in both hands as an explosion of purple energy flew out of him, slamming into the walls around them— and right into April.

She cried out as she was flung back, slamming into Raph’s motionless shell. Her back hitting the side of his spikes winded her, sending the human crashing to her knees and gasping for breath.

When she finally looked up again, Donnie was staring down at her with wide eyes. His entire body was shaking, a newfound clarity and horror gleaming in his gaze. He opened his mouth, but the only sound that came out was a weak chirp. A call.

She recognized the sound. She knew it well, from years of growing up alongside those turtles. Her boys, her brothers.

He was calling for his brothers.

Donnie shook his head violently, the chirp escaping much more desperately, as if it was torn from his throat. April lunged to her feet as he crashed to his knees, the bo staff rolling away through the bloodied carnage Donnie had caused. 

April dropped down in front of him, hauling her little brother into a hug right as those desperate chirps turned to piercing wails. Unable to do anything more than hold the only brother she had left.

[sunflowerrex]

Thrawn x Arctic Monkeys (feat Eli)

Vanto scoffed as he tossed the butt of his cigarette onto the wet concrete. In one step, he smushed the dying embers out with the toe of his boot and turned to face Faro.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t gone and fucked us over by running off our 3 previous managers, then we wouldn’t be in this situation.” He barked in her direction.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets of his long black jacket, he dared a look up at Faro’s face. She stared back with a displeased expression.

“Listen, he’s who the label sent. Grow the fuck up and deal with it!” Vanto kicked his boot against the ground and looked down at his shoes. He’s the front man of one of the galaxies fastest rising bands, he deserves better than getting scolded by his bass player.

“You’re the one who can understand him, you’re the one who has to help him. I’m not listening to you piss and moan any longer.” Faro jabbed a finger in his direction. Vanto looked up to make eye contact with her in defiance, only to find her looking over his shoulder.

Vanto tossed a glance over his shoulder, seeing the new manager in question standing a few hundred feet away, lighting an herb roll. He let his eyes linger, trailing down the tall man’s body and back up. The ceaseless rain had already soaked the man’s hair, causing small droplets to roll down his forehead ridges towards his illuminating red eyes.

A stifled snort from Faro drew Vanto back to his previous conversation. Faro gave him a knowing look with a sly smirk.

“At least I won’t be the one to run off this manager” she replied to the as-if expression adorning Vanto’s tan face.

“Oh shut the fuck up” Vanto snapped rolling his eyes. Faro let out a mocking laugh.

“Go get the others. We have to rehearse for the show tonight” Vanto gave with a nod of his head towards the door of their current rehearsal space. He gave Faro a shove on the shoulder to get her moving. He cast one more look over his shoulder at the new manager.

The man, he learned was named Thrawn, caught his eye as he looked. Thrawn tipped his head down in a small nod as he took a drag from the small rolled paper between his fingers. He gave a small smirk, noting the way Vanto stumbled a bit at his nod.

Vanto whipped his head back towards the door, glad that faro was not there to pick on him. He stood there a second longer to hear that Thrawn had returned to whatever business he was dealing with over the comm device in his ear.

Vanto swore quietly under his breath, stuffed his hands back in his pockets in frustration, and began up the stairs to the door.

Again, sorry for the sloppy art I’m trying to get back into traditional art. But since I made that Eli doodle I’ve become obsessed with this AU omg

[sig-nifier]

omg yay!! i love ur summer rain and obsessions and other things fics so so much. i loved how buck took care of bucky when he was having a hard time and i liked how buck has obsessive tendencies over cleaning in obsessions and other things. so, i was wondering if u could write something where buck is having a hard time in the stalag because of his obsessive tendencies- maybe he can’t keep his surroundings as clean as he wants them to he resorts to obsessing over being physically clean (but how can u really feel clean in those conditions) to the point where it’s unhealthy and maybe harmful and bucky picks up on it? i think not feeling clean would make him feel quite insecure and make it harder for him to want to be close to bucky, so bucky would definitely notice. i’m projecting because i have OCD lol but i thought i’d ask!

John watched him work for a while, watched the way the dirt fell off his boot, satisfying-like, onto the steps below. Slender fingers worked the brush back and forth, a constant rhythm. Bucky would have quite liked to shut his eyes and listened to the sound, felt the way Gale’s body shifted with each stroke. He could pretend they were somewhere else – the porch of their own house, a summer day, their dog running around the front yard. He’d tip his head onto Gale’s shoulder, and the blonde would put his arm around him, and nothing would ever haunt them again. Not the war, not the memories, not themselves. - The one where Gale obsesses over cleanliness in the Stalag camp and Bucky does his best to understand.

here u go! sorry it took a hot minute :))

i hope this was something like what u wanted, i did try my best. enjoy enjoy enjoy!!

[tastytoastz]

I was thinking about ideas for the humans designs, and I had an idea for Richas.

No idea how they adopted Richas in this Au but an idea I had: when they first got him they had a lot of trouble getting him to wear shoes in the facility. He would run around bare foot and his parents would get super worried about him slipping on puddles of water and hurting himself. No matter how much they told him to wear shoes or not run he still did it.

Then one day one of his dads (probably Mike or Felps) was in the store and found a pair of red cow print rain boots that matched the red cow print bucket hat he wore constantly. After that they had trouble getting him to take them off.

(I think most of my designs for the humans is going to come down to their rain boots, so if you have any more ideas for what the people wear/look like please share!! :D)

Omg litle red cow print boots 🥺

Feels like it would be Felps or Pac who bought them. Mike feels like he told Richs off many times for running and is in the stage of “if he slips and falls it’s his own fault, I tried to warn him 🙄”

Also I can just imagine Richas running around and they keep telling him to stop and wear shoes and him just responding “Pai Cellbit dosen't have to wear boots” as a defense.

Also Richarlysons shirt is also one of those swim shirts so it’s not as annoying if he gets it wet.

Feels like Empanada would have cat like boots kind of like this (or other cat like motif)

[tonberry-yoda]

Prayer - Enrico Pucci

Pairing - Enrico Pucci x f!reader

Warnings - religion (catholic), like quotes from the bible and stuff. i am not religious, but i did a bit of research before posting it idk if that's really a warning, but i wanted to put it here just in case. also, pucci speaks italian at the beginning

Word Count - 821

Notes - stone ocean has me going feral rn omg. ive already read the manga, but my oh my is it so good animated. ive been really wanting to write for more jojos characters (you can request more btw if you're interested lol) and i had to write for one of my fav villains

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

Pucci raised up his head, the fire from the candles shining in his dark, almost lifeless eyes. His hands held each other in prayer, shaking. “La maledizione del Signore è sulla casa degli empi, ma egli benedice la casa dei giusti. Proverbs 3:33.” His voice was shaking. He could feel his breath running short. “149, 151…” He took a breath in, looking up at the full moon which surprisingly was not being covered by the storm clouds outside. “193, 197, 199…” Tears were still running down his cheeks. They were burning, like hot wax. “251, 257, 263, 269…”

Pucci jumped, hearing the door open behind him, the sound of rain from outside getting louder. He turned around, as the tears in his eyes blurred his vision, to find… her. He thought she was gone. Gone for good.

She stood in a soaking wet raincoat, slipping it off and hanging it up on the coat rack. As she walked towards Pucci, who was still on his knees, her wet boots left stains in the carpet.

“Enrico,” she kneeled down to his level and cupped his face. Her voice was so soft. Hearing it again made the tears multiply. “Enrico, you need to come with me.” She wiped a tear of his with her thumb. He pulled his face away and turned back around, staring at the crucifix that was watching his every move. “I can't.” His voice was barely audible, especially because of the storm outside. “Pucci…” He felt her hand on his shoulder. It was cold. Really cold. She must’ve been in that storm for hours.

“Fine.” Pucci stood up, closing his eyes and turning away from everything. “Let's go.”

Pucci knew that when he looked at her, God was watching. But he didn't care. He wanted to stare at her. He wanted to break rules. He wanted her to get the best of him. Sin didn't mean anything to him while she was around. Especially back then. The way her hands would cup his face. The way his cold skin would brush against her warm skin when they were pressed to one another. The way she would… kiss him. It's been years, but he still remembers. He would drop anything just to get one more kiss. One more hug. One more word out of her mouth. He worshiped her. Before she left, that is.

She stopped going to church. Found a life outside of religion. A life outside of him. He would’ve done anything to get her back. But suddenly, she was here again. She was here and he didn't know why. Dragging him through the rain for what felt like miles.

“Where are you taking me?” Those were the first words Pucci had said to her this entire walk. She turned around and he almost bumped into her, taking a step back. “I saw this and thought of you. I know it's raining and we haven't seen each other in a while, but I wanted to take you. It's right down here.” She led him through another pile of trees and they ended up next to an overgrown building. He froze as the rain stopped, the moon shining on the building. He turned to her and ran up to the building, running his fingers over each cobblestone. “How did you…” She smiled and opened the door, leading him inside.

There wasn't much of a ceiling or walls, but it still felt like home. “You found it.” Pucci turned to her with tears in his eyes and a smile. She giggled and sat down on one of the rotting benches. “I found it.” He turned to the old crucifix that was now torn up from the wind. “How’d you do it?” “I was just on a walk. It's nice to see this old place again, huh?” She stood up and walked around the place with a smile.

They met in that old church. It was abandoned now and it was abandoned then too. He was praying and she was crying. What a mix. They had a fling. One that he doesn't regret either. God, he wished he never took that vow.

“Enrico?” Pucci turned to her with wide eyes as she held a little candle with their initials inscribed in it. She handed it to him and held his hand. “I'm sorry I left you.” He pulled her close, dropping the candle, letting it smash to pieces. “Just don't do it again, okay?” He pressed a kiss to her lips and felt more droplets of rain fall from the sky.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

[between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place]

@leslienotlesley asked:

Hi Em! In reply to your ask for prompts: preferred flavor of Stuck is post-CATWS AU, recovering Bucky, and quote from WH Auden's "Lay your sleeping head, my love, human on my faithless arm". Actually the whole poem is just perfect for Stucky, IMHO. Hope you like it! Your work is amazing and I look forward to whatever this inspires.

@somanywords asked:

OMG Em congratulations on your fic-a-versary!!! 🎈🌈🎈🌈 if you're still taking prompts, post WS stevebucky, and "the moon was made for the sky to hold; and you for me" ? <3

Thank you both 💚💚💚 These two prompts went well together so I decided to combine them and it ended up sort of a mishmash of things. Well, the moodboard was mostly procrastination.

Here are some post-WS drabbles.

1.

“I’ll take this watch, you can sleep.”

Dull concrete eyes track the movement of his lips; a nod, hesitant, near imperceptible.

He sits, back against the wall, windows in his sight-line. There’s no weapon across his knees; he is a weapon.

His ghost lies down on top of warm blankets, on top of a too-soft mattress, leather boots on march-hardened feet. There’s a packed bag under the floor-boards.

He swears it won’t have purpose. No harm will come to him here. No more.

It’s a futile oath. No one can hold moonlight; not with steel bars or tenderly cupped hands.

2.

“Sleep, punk.”

He looks up from the pages in his lap. The room swims in warm-lit colors.

He blinks. “I’m okay.”

An almost-smile tears through the cavity in his chest. “I know you are. So am I. Don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, but—” He braces for the blow. “Can I stay?”

A beat. His world balances on a precarious edge. And then it tilts, nudged over by a familiar, ever-devastating grin.

“If you get over here. And sleep.”

His universe narrows to that too-soft mattress, a warm weight at his back, a contented sigh.

He’d be foolish to sleep now.

3.

Behind the door is a beast, feral snarls and glinting steel. He stays pressed to the wall, waits for it to leave, for the man inside to slump back onto the bed, sweat-drenched and panting. 

A bottomless sigh follows. “It’s fine, I’m fine. Just a nightmare.”

“Okay.” He drops his white-knuckled hold on the doorframe. “I’ll leave you alone.”

A hand grasps his wrist. “Who said I want you to?” 

The air stills.

“Sorry.” The hand is snatched away, leaving his skin branded. “It’s just ... I remembered. We used to—”

His lungs ache. “Yes.” 

“Do you still …?”

“Yes.”

4.

“Are you done watching me sleep?”

“I wasn’t—”

“And you’re a terrible liar. Glad to know some things haven’t changed.”

“I was just waitin’ to see if you’d wake up—”

“Sure you were.”

“—so I could do this.”

“... mhm, good morning. Wait, where are you going?”

“Thought I’d go for a run, now that you’re up.”

“Or you could just stay. Here. With me. In this bed.”

“It’s gonna rain later.”

“So run tomorrow. You know, if you stay, I’d make it worth your while …”

“Buck …”

“Like what you see, do ya?”

“Not fair.”

“You stayin’?”

“Hell yes.”

[bonniebird]

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Requested by Anon

Masterpost

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Valentine Event

Leaning back in the passenger seat of Billy’s Camaro you could see him. He was leaning against the boot end of the car talking to his friends. You’d been waiting for twenty minutes. There was a party later this evening and he’d said he would drop you off at your friends house when you were done at the mall. 

You sighed and leaned forward to beep the horn. Billy turned, cigarette in his mouth and glared at you. When you gestured that you wanted to go, he flipped you off. Deciding it would be faster to just walk, you started to get out. It was drizzling a little, a slow rain that soaked everything but seemed light enough not to need a jacket.

“I’m walking.” You said.

“Whatever.” Billy said back without looking at you. Rolling your eyes you lent into the car to get your bag. Billy’s jacket had been thrown over the back of  your seat. You took it, putting it on as you put your bag over your shoulder and slammed the car door, walking away without saying anything else to Billy.

You didn’t hear anything from Billy for the rest of the day. The party had been boring when you’d arrived but after some chaos the party had livened up and attracted a larger crowd. You had been laughing and chugging a beer as your friend cheered you on when Billy arrived. He had at first glance, looked around the room, grinned when he spotted you and leaned against the wall and watched. He frowned when he realised the jacket you were wearing, that he’d been admiring on you, was his and he could already see a stain.

“Hey!” He yelled when you hopped down from the table. “Billy! Omg you took so long! You’re just getting here?” You slurred. He glared at you as you stumbled a little and wiped a dribble of beer from your chin.

“That’s my jacket!” He snapped

“Yeah. It is. I was cold and it was raining when I walked home so I took it. What’re you going to do about it?” You said. Billy could smell how much you’d drunk. In fact he could smell it coming off his jacket as well.

“You’re running my jacket! The rain will have trashed it.” Billy complained. He pulled the jacket off you and put it on to inspect it. He stomped outside away from the crowd that had gathered to watch. His jacket wasn’t actually in a bad way. He could probably wash it and everything would be fixed. 

“Hey! You can’t just pull me around like that! And I was using that!” You said. Your words were slurred Billy turned to you in time to catch you as you stumbled. “You don’t have to be so… so…” You trailed off and threw up. Billy winced as you looked at him. Your eyes were teary now and you leaned into him. Billy chuckled. You’d had plenty of his drunken nights to lord over him, complaining about having to look after him.

“We going to fight or make out, ’cause I’m getting some real mixed signals here.” He teased me. You groaned and he picked you up bridal style. “Hey! I’m going to take (Y/N) home. I’ll be back later.” He yelled to his friends. You grumbled about not wanting to go home as he put you in the car and rolled the window down.

“Don’t want to go!” You complained. 

“You can barely stand. I’ll swing by that fast food place and get you something to sober up. Just don’t throw up in my car… and you have to wash my jacket.” He offered once he got into the car.

“Fine.” You mumbled. If you were honestly you’d been drinking for quite a while and your head was starting to throb. You leaned against the car door and let the cold air brush over your face as he headed towards the mall to get you some food.

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