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poughkeepsies · 8 days

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when you're gone, i come undone

Buck’s never been religious, and he sure as hell wasn’t raised with the brand of catholicism that seems to plague Bobby and Eddie’s every step, but he thinks he can understand why Bobby likes his rosary beads so much. At the very least it would give him something to do with his hands while he sits vigil at Bobby’s side, way past the time visitors who aren’t on a first-name basis with half of the hospital staff would be allowed.

The others had left hours ago, some with kids who needed taking care of and others anticipating early shifts the next day, promising to take over from him as soon as visiting hours started. There was no shortage of people who wanted to be the one to keep watch over Bobby, but the night shift would’ve usually fallen to Athena, if she wasn’t recovering in her own room and allowed more than a couple minutes out of bed at a time to come see him.

There was a quiet devastation clinging to her that Buck had never seen before. Maybe because before there would’ve been the safe walls of her home and the arms of her husband to cover her when she lost her unflappable mask.

That, more than anything, makes him feel utterly helpless. As much as he had been thinking of Bobby as more of a dad to him than his own father for close to a decade, Athena was never his mom.

After the rough patch at the start of their relationship, they’d understood each other in the way only two people who love someone as much as they both loved Bobby could. You hold half of his heart, so you’ll hold your fair share of mine, as well. Maybe that was why he’d taken one look at the longing in Athena’s eyes and promised to stay the night with Bobby. No matter his own desire to never let Bobby out of his sight again, he also wanted to protect the pieces of Bobby that were with Athena, as well.

The only problem is that Buck has never been able to stay still for too long. He fidgets, and he bustles, and he fills silences. At the minimum, it usually earns him a dead-pan look that’s suspiciously drenched in fondness, or his name uttered in gentle scolding twinged with amusement.

He half-expects the latter to fall from the corner of Bobby’s mouth with a single eyelid cracked open to give its best effort at the former, the way it usually happens when they’re in the bunkroom and everyone else is ready to sleep like the dead while Buck is wide-awake and wired like an electric fence.

The image stands in such contrast to the blank slate of Bobby’s unconscious face that it does nothing to soothe his nervous fidgeting. He’s leaning so far forward, trying to summon any sort of conscious intention behind the mechanical rise and fall of Bobby’s chest and every reflexive twitch of his face, that he accidentally shifts the chair, so the bottom slides against the floor and breaks the momentary silence that only exists between the regular beeping and intercom noises that come muffled through the hospital room doors.

Come on, Bobby. Tell me to shut up and go to bed. Tell me it’s late, and I can either close my eyes and actually try to sleep or go make some of that lavender tea we keep for this exact reason. You know you want to. Stilling so as to not miss any minute signs of Bobby’s stirring, Buck’s breath catches tight in his lungs like it used to when the fridge door would be too loud as he tried to sneak past his dad’s sleeping form in the living room armchair when he was a kid. Unlike back then, the disappointment when Bobby fails to stir is a living thing that threatens to swallow him whole. He rides the wave of devastation by opening his mouth and intentionally filling the silence, instead.

“I’m gonna say something, but you can’t get mad at me,” he says. Bobby is silent, but that’s not much different from how he’d usually react to such an opening from Buck, so he takes that as his go-head anyway. “I think this may be all my fault.”

It’s probably just his own nerves, but the air in the room settles around the words with so much tension that it only serves to spur him on. “Not the- not the fire, obviously. I mean, I had no idea you’d even met the guy Athena thinks is responsible for it, but that’s kind of what I mean, you know? I had no idea.”

His breath is shaky as he exhales, a tremble running up his shoulders.

“I don’t- I don’t think I ever told you, what I saw when I was in the coma. Maybe you already guessed. Some days it’s like you seem to know what’s going on in my brain better than even I do, but it was just. It was a different world, Bobby. Daniel was still alive, so I guess I never had a reason to come to L.A. and join the academy and everything was just…wrong. Maddie was still with Doug, and Eddie never got to meet Carla so he couldn’t figure everything out fast enough to keep Chris, and Chimney…well, Chim was still Chimney but he told me that you were dead, Bobby. He told me you’d been dead for years and it was like I couldn’t breathe.”

He kind of feels like that now, actually. His face feels hot and his eyelashes are heavy like when he’s about to cry but his eyes are dry. For the first time in years, he’s in agreement with his body’s reaction to something. If he were to start crying now, he wouldn’t ever be able to stop, and that feels too much like giving up to be acceptable.

Deep breath, he thinks, in through his nose and pushed out from his mouth. His lips are dry. He keeps going.

“I used to think that’s why I died, you know. Like I was supposed to learn something and that’s the only way the universe could think to get it through my thick skull, I guess.”

“But I think I got it wrong,” he whispers, and it echoes as loud as the beeping from the heart monitor.

“I thought it meant that I matter, you know. Like, ‘they need you as much as you need them! Don’t leave them alone!’ But I was so stupid.” So much for not crying. His day-old stubble is damp with tears. He’s been wearing these clothes for more than 24 hours at this point and he’s starting to feel overstimulated in the way he sometimes does when they’re on a busy shift and don’t have time to freshen up. It occurs to him that Bobby usually notices, like he notices most things that have the potential to bother any of them. This would be the time when he tells Buck to go ahead and take a quick shower while he reheats the food. And Buck would come back good as new, a weight lifted off his shoulders before he could even recognize it because someone cared enough about him to know him better than he did himself.

“I’ve been so caught up in my own stuff since I came back and, God, I’ve just been so happy these past couple of months it feels like I’ve been walking around with blinders on. I didn’t even notice this thing going on with Eddie until it was too late and now he might lose Christopher. You came to talk to me after our last shift and I should’ve - I should’ve - noticed something was wrong but all I could think about was if I had everything to go stay with Tommy. a-and then something happened with Eddie, and I honestly don’t think I spared you a single other thought that night, Bobby. I was using your recipe to make dinner for my date while your house was burning down.”

He’s tripping over his words, like if he says them fast enough he can reach Bobby and earn his forgiveness first, before the disappointment settles in and bars the gates.

“I should’ve remembered, Bobby. The dream showed me a world where I wasn’t there and you died, and I left it. I came back because I couldn’t live in that world. I refuse to.” Saying the words settles something in him, and he wipes the wetness from his eyes away with the flat of his palm before crossing his arms and sitting up in the chair, body once again posed like a shield between the outside world and the figure lying in the bed.

“Look, maybe-maybe I already missed the chance the universe gave me. But you know better than anyone that I’m way better at third chances anyway.” He tries for a smile, and if he squints really hard he can almost see the muscles under Bobby’s eyes tensing the way they do when he’s about to smile, too.

“You’ve never given up on me before, Bobby. Don’t start now.”

The monitor’s beeping remains the only other sound in the room, but that’s okay. He’s learning to be patient. Bobby knows that, too.

#dear god im literally in emt class rn but i had to post #if anythings fucked ill fix it later #911 spoilers #weewoo brainrot #evan buckley #911 abc #bobby nash

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aphroditedahlias · 12 days

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What if Bully Eren Victim is self-harming because of him or even worse commits suicide?

Yandere bully eren x self h4rming reader<33

woahhh, never wrote anything like this before, but i gave it a try! ps. masterlist updated!!!

TW : Self harm, skin carving, blood, and light non con ( not full scene)

This is a little short and not proofread lolololol the last time i posted a fic was in july 2022 so if this is trash lmk.

The heat of your room is suffocating as you drop your bag and tug at your jacket. June is approaching and a new month means new opportunities to wear cute new outfits for most people. You on the other hand have no choice but to make the awkward switch from heavy winter clothes to lightweight winter clothes. The ugly lines that cross your arms , stomach , thighs, and even hips are stinging reminder of why you couldn’t even think of wearing something other than hoodies and sweats. Not only are they the only things that conceal your scars, they don’t tug and irritate them throughout the day which is another plus.

Eren had been feeling particularly irritable all week, naturally deciding to take it out on you. Although you finally made it through the week you flunked yet another test. Your grades have been taking more of a toll then ever, lowering your gpa to an unredeemable average. You were numb to the disappointment of your grades at this point and the only thing that allowed you to feel alive was the secret you kept tucked away in the privacy of your room. after grabbing your coping mechanism and taking off your sweater you slid down the wall, taking your time to enjoy the coolness of it against your too hot skin. Your thighs were running out of room. Faint lines cross your biceps and so today you’d decided on your lower forearm to bare the weight of your week. You lowered the blade and slowly withdrew your stress. As little beads of blood came about, each one releasing just a little of the darkness Eren had created inside you. You were so lost in your comfort and hurt you started and nicked yourself particularly hard when you heard banging at your door.

Quickly you threw on the sweater from today and made your way to the front door, looking out the peephole.

“ Open the fuck up y/n, what did i tell you about making me wait.”

Eren.

Your heartbeat double in pace. You wondered what would be your demise first, your heart stopping from fear of the angry look on Erens face , or the way you just knew he would choke you out for making him wait.

You swiftly swung the door open while midnight a small apology.

“ I’m sweating like crazy so why are you sitting in this hot ass house with that sweater on?” he sneered, using his t/shirt to wipe his upper lip dry.

“ i had the ac on in my room i got a little chilly.”

“ so why is it still so hot in here? and there’s no Ac in that fucking hell hole of a school and you still had it on today, what’s your deal.”

“ Nothing I-“

He interrupted you by kicking the door closed behind him and pushing you against the wall before lowering his face to your neck.

“ Mmm baby you smell good.” he said, licking your neck.

Panick arose once again becuase the broad daylight would allow eren to see everything. The last few times he’d assaulted you had either been in a dark empty class room or with the lights off in the dead night of your room.

Before you had the chance to protest he was pulling the sweatshirt off of you.

You both stood in silence as he peered closely at your body, watching as you began to subtly quiver.

“ Y/N, what the fuck is this? “ He seethed, grabbing your arm, not caring about the blood clearly still oozing form your open wounds.

You had no answer, and you kept your head bowed in shame.

He pulled you by the arm into your bedrock before pushing you down on the mattress.

Wasting no time he stripped you free of the rest of your clothes and examined all the scars you’d given yourself.

He laughed to himself as he flipped you over and pushed your head down into your pillows before pulling you up the hips.

“ Count ” he said.

you felt a harass smack and jolted forward, trying to escape the assault.

“ one!”

you silently said a prayer to anyone who would be looking down on you.

Smack after smack you counted and cried out.

Just when you thought it was over, you heard something click and felt the sharp coolness of something against your ass.

“ Eren? what-“ you said sniffling.

You let out a whimper as you felt what you know knew was a blade lightly digging into you.

The agony was much worse than anything you’d put yourself through , you skin had a second heart beat and you could feel the blood dripping down your legs concerniny fast. You cried and begged for him to stop but he paid you no mind as he continued carving your delicate flesh.

Minutes passed by and you swear that you’d lost consciousness, fading in and out of black a few times.

Eren chuckled.

“ I’ve thought about doing this so many times. You have no idea how many times i’ve fucked my hand, making my cock cum over and over until i was sore thinking about making you permanently mine.”

Still dazed and confused, you had no reaction to his words or to the shutter of a phone that meaning he’d definitely photographed his work.

His finger spread your lips, using his thumb to tease your hole before spitting into it. He didn’t bother much foreplay before impaling you his thick and veining cock.

“ Fuck.”

His voice dipped and his breathing got heavier.

He used one hand to rub at the little nub that had you quickly seeing stars from the pain and pleasure mixed together. He used his other hand to pull you up by the neck so that tori back was touching his. He kissed your neck hard, biting and suckling at the skin to leave even more bruises. Tears fell down your eyes and whines left your lips as he pounding into from behind. You could feel the blood starting to dry and crust up on your ass making it even more discomforting to feel his movements.

removing his hand from your clit, he picked up his phone from off your bed and flashed you the screen.

In big red bruised letters red

Erens whore.

His sultry voice was almost tuned out by combination your ringing ears and the slapping of his hips against your wetness but you still heard him in your ear

“ Your heart , body, and soul is mine. Your skin belongs to me, and the next time you think about cutting what’s mine you won’t live to regret it.”

Eren never made empty promises… if you’d ever decided to hurt yourself again, you’d be signing your death certificate.

Ask box is open, send in lots of requests because i’m gaining motivation to post!!!

©️aphroditedahlias 2024

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#tw dark content #cw dark content #tw yandere #tw non con #tw noncon #yandere attack on titan #yandere noncon #yandere eren #yandere eren x reader #tw self destructive behavior #light angst #aot angst

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imawkwardlysoc · 1 year

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"only bought this dress so you could take it off"

Song: Dress by Taylor Swift

Pairing: bob floyd x reader (afab)

Warning(s): Allusions to smut (not written) & Aftercare

Word Count: 1,913

Summary: Y/N had just moved to Miramar and was invited to the Navy Ball in San Diego by her roommate. Soon when the both of them arrived, Y/N was met with a face she hasn't seen in a long time.

Backing away from the full length mirror, I admired the dress I picked out a few days ago. The muted gold beaded dress hugged my waist in all the right ways. With it being off the shoulder and a sweetheart neckline, it showed the right amount of chest without it being too scandalous.

“Wow, you look amazing.” I looked over to see my roommate, Natasha, entering my room.

“Are you sure? I mean is this appropriate for a naval ball?” I turned to face her.

“Yes, all heads will turn to you when you enter the ballroom,” she reassured me. “Who knows? Maybe a navy man will approach you and you end up going on a date with him, but if it’s Hangman, straight up reject him.”

I laughed at what she said. “Nat, I just moved here two weeks ago, I’m not looking for a relationship yet.”

Ever since I moved to San Diego two weeks ago, I’ve been more focused on my teaching job. I work at the local high school near a navy base as a science teacher. I was hired when the school year already started so I've been catching my students up since the substitute teacher they had barely got them learning.

“Well, the Lyft is almost here, you should finish getting ready,” she told me before leaving my room.

Slipping on a pair of gold heels, I grabbed my clutch and double checked the inside to see if I had all of the things I needed. Closing it, I walked out of my room and walked out of the house with Natasha after she locked the front door. Getting into the car, our driver started to drive us to the US Grant hotel.

“Hey, everything is going to be fine,” Natasha squeezed my hand. “All of the Dagger Squad is going to love you.”

We soon pulled up to the hotel and saw a bunch of naval higher ups in their uniforms with their plus ones. I’m pretty sure that I also saw some politicians entering the hotel. Natasha and I soon walked in and headed to the ballroom entrance where we showed our identifications along with invites.

When we walked in, I started to feel overwhelmed. Many members of the Navy and their plus ones filled the room while a live band played music.

“Oh, I see them!” Natasha started to drag me to where her friends were. “Guys, meet Y/N.”

I was soon met with two dark skinned men, one with a buzzcut, another one with a somewhat porno mustache, and one who looked like a real life Ken doll. She soon started to introduce me to them with their actual names and call signs. More of the members came and I was introduced to them along with her captain and his husband.

“Guess who finally showed up,” Jake announced. “How long does it take to get a soda?”

“Y/N, meet-” I looked over to see who came and I froze.

“Robbie?” His name fell out of my mouth.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He asked.

“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I walked up and hugged him.

“It has.” He returned my hug.

“Wait, is this the Robbie you told me about?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded my head.

“Are we missing something here?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, did you and Baby on Board used to have a thing or?” Jake asked.

“Baby on Board?” A confused look formed on my face when I heard the name he gave Robbie.

“No, we used to be childhood friends back in North Carolina,” Robbie explained.

“Yeah we’ve lived in the same neighborhood until I had to move to Arizona because my dad got a new job,” I nodded and pointed to Natasha. “That’s where I met Natasha.”

“And we’ve been inseparable until we had to leave for college.” Nat wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It took me some convincing to get her to move down here.”

“Well, I had to finish both of my masters,” I told her.

“Two masters?” Admiral Kazansky raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, one in mechanical engineering and one in physics, but I also have a teaching credential for physics.” I smiled proudly.

“Do you mind if we continue this conversation while I get myself another drink?” The admiral asked me.

“I don’t mind at all Admiral,” I answered while linking arms with him.

While on our walk to the bar, he started asking me questions about my studies and why I double majored. I also talked about my time studying my undergrad at Cal Poly and getting my masters/teaching credential at the University of San Francisco.

Throughout our conversation, I glanced at the other side of the room to see Robbie talking to some of his squadron members. We would send each other a smile if we made eye contact with each other.

Soon a familiar tune filled my ears and the room. Placing my drink down on the bar, I faced the admiral.

“Excuse me sir, but I have to do something,” I excused sir.

“It’s no problem, also call me Tom.” He smiled and I nodded my head.

Hurrying myself to the other side of the room, I made my way to where Robbie was. When I saw him leaning against the wall as he listened to his friends, a smile came onto our faces as lyrics started to echo through the room. Handing his drink to Ruben, I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the dance floor as Come On Eileen played. (A/N I just imagine the dance scene in Perks of Being a Wallflower) We started to do the dance routine that we created when we were kids whenever this song played through the stereo. We continued to dance to the song and sang out the lyrics.

“Wow, it’s been a while since we last did that,” I caught my breath after he dipped me and we moved to a slow dancing position.

“I’m surprised that we still remember it,” he chuckled.

“After the amount of times we perform this dance in front of our families, I would be surprised if we don't remember the moves,” I looked up at him.

He still had the same face from what I remembered as a little kid, but it was more defined. He was still the shy and reserved kid that I knew of as I grew up.

“Hey, wanna head out?” He whispered in my ear which sent chills down my spine.

“Sure,” I agreed.

He led me off the dance floor and went to his squad.

“It’s been great meeting you all. I hope we get to see each other again,” I told everyone.

They all said their goodbyes and Robbie and I left the hotel ballroom. As Robbie and I waited for the valet to bring his wrangler around, I felt him put his coat over my shoulders and wrapped his arm around them. Leaning against him, I looked up at him and gave a smile. Soon the wrangler was pulled up and he helped me into the car. Getting into the driver’s seat, he closed the door and untied the tie he was wearing.

During the drive to Natasha and I’s house, we were sharing stories and memories from our childhood. He also explained the reason why Jake called him Baby on Board sometimes. I laughed at the stories that he had with his crew. I guess he’s glad that he’s permanently stationed here with his crew.

Pulling up in front of the house, he got out of the driver’s seat and helped me out of the car. Walking me up to the door, we stood there for a moment, waiting to see what happens next.

“Thanks for taking me home,” I thanked him.

“No problem, it’s nice seeing you again,” he smiled. “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you,” I looked down at the ground and blushed.

I soon felt his fingers touch my chin and moved my head to face him. Don’t know the reason why but I started to feel my heart begin to race as my stomach fluttered. Leaning my head in as his did, our lips touched and moved. It continued for a few more seconds as it got more passionate until we detached, looking at each other with a blush on our faces.

“Did that just?” I asked.

“Yeah, it did,” he nodded his head.

“Well, I should head in now,” I told him and grabbed my house key from my clutch.

Unlocking it, I pushed open the door and walked into the house without closing the door. I tossed my clutch on the kitchen island and started my walk down the hallway to my room. Hearing the sound of Robbie’s footsteps entering the house, I looked over my shoulder a little and gave him a wink. Entering my room, I took off my heels and started to unzip the back of my dress.

“Need help with that?” I heard Robbie’s voice enter my room.

“Please,” I answered despite me not needing any help.

Chills were sent throughout my body as I felt his breath hit my neck as he slowly unzipped my dress. I bit the inside of my lip as he started to place kisses down my neck. With my dress off, leaving me in my undergarments, I turned and started to kiss him as he led me to my bed.

*Aftercare*

Tangled up in my bed sheets, Robbie laid flat on his back while I laid my head on his chest. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other drew circles on my thigh.

“Imagine if we told younger us that we’ll be in this situation,” I chuckled, looking up at him.

“I feel they would be grossed out,” he let out a laugh. “I miss this, I miss us hanging out with each other.”

“Me too,” I agreed. “It sucked that we weren’t able to keep in contact with each other.”

He nodded his head and hummed in agreement. “But hey, we got to see each other again even though it took over ten years.”

“True,” I laughed.

“I know I already said that you look beautiful but that dress on you is amazing,” he complimented me.

“Well, I should buy that dress in other colors if it makes you do this,” I smirked as I gestured to us in bed.

“Nah, anything you wear can make me feel like this,” he placed a kiss on my lips.

“This isn’t going to affect our friendship right?” I asked him.

“I already lost you once, not losing you again,” he said while pulling me closer to him.

I smiled and laid my head on his chest letting out a yawn. Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.

*The Morning After*

Opening my eyes, I looked over to see Robbie still sleeping. Smiling to myself and last night’s events, I quietly got out of bed and threw on his dress shirt. Walking out of my room, I walked down the hall to the kitchen to see Natasha standing there with a cup of coffee and a smirk on her face.

“So, my backseater huh?” She asked.

“Shush,” I blushed a little while pouring myself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, just saying he’s a really good guy but you already know that,” she told me.

Soon we heard footsteps revealing Robbie in his boxers and hair disheveled.

“Yeah, he really is.”

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dorthyanndrarry · 2 years

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Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -38-

Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit, mentions of suicide, mentions of panic attacks, swearing

suggested rating: Mature

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 37 || Part 39 ->

Draco wondered if he should say something. Say that it had been him that had taught Neville’s mother how to fold the origami chain. His heart raced even faster at just the thought. But what would he say? And… And there was no way they would believe him.

In fact, he could imagine their reactions, and anger only started to cover the range of possibilities. Draco pulled his hands into his lap, squeezing them together as he did his best to dispel the thought from his mind.

“Oh my god.” Granger’s exasperated sigh startled Draco back to the present. She gave Neville a quick hug on her way into the kitchen.

“Is the game done?” Lovegood asked.

Granger rolled her eyes. “I won. I suppose,” she shot Draco a sour look before turning back to Lovegood. “Ron wanted to keep playing for second place, but they should be done soon.”

Granger unhooked a small beaded bag from her belt loop and pulled it open. Her arm disappeared, deep, deep inside in a terribly impressive example of an extension charm.

“You said you were growing seedlings; are they new plants or just adding to your current stock?” Granger asked.

“The seedlings are mostly new. Monty, they’re a herbalist I met in Germany, sent me some interesting hybrids between Hugelies Dinnerplate and a blue-purple colour Morphus, uh, both types of magically enhanced roses. I think they’ll sell well,” Longbottom said.

Granger sighed.

“They’re nice,” Longbottom said.

“You say that, but you started this business to sell magical plants, not- not flowers,” Granger said.

Longbottom shrugged, “People like flowers. There isn’t much of a market for venomous tentacula. And I still get to sell magical plants to potion brewers and other speciality growers.”

Granger huffed, clearly not satisfied by the compromise. “Ah, there it is,” she muttered, drawing her arm out of the bag and with it, a long dark bottle.

“Hermione,” Lovegood said with a gasp, “Harry said no alcohol!”

“Harry’s just sour because the last time we went out, he got drunk and spent the whole night complaining about Malfoy,” Granger said. She set the bottle on the counter and twirled her wand over the cork, popping the cork with a wordless charm.

The cork landed on the floor and rolled in a little half-circle before coming to a stop. And Draco couldn’t seem to look away from it.

There was a clink of glassware and the soft sound of liquid pouring from a bottle. The smell of the wine hit him suddenly, faint and yet so strong it made his eyes sting. His breathing stuttered in his chest, and he automatically smothered the hiccup of sound.

Draco slipped off the counter. Careful, careful. Trying to make no noise. Moving behind the people, away. He couldn’t attract their attention. He went into the bedroom, easing the door shut, hurrying to the closet, and slipping inside.

He let out a heavy shuddering breath as the last of the light disappeared and closed him inside. He crawled to the back, pressing himself into the corner of the closet and pulling his knees to his chest, hiding his face in the small gap between them; to muffle the sound of his erratic breathing. No one could hear him. No one could see him like this. If they found out, his parents would be in danger; he would be in danger. He had to be strong. He had to.

His hand reached out blindly. He needed to calm down. He needed to pull himself together, but he found no bottle. He always kept one in here. And under his bed.

Draco lifted his head, looking around in the dark for the slightly darker shadow of a wine bottle. He swallowed hard on the ball of panic lodging itself in his throat, sliding his hands blindly along the floor, from one comer to the other and finding nothing.

He tried to stumble to his feet, to get to his bed, the other bottle, his head running into clothing and hangers, falling off and over his head and shoulders. A heavy sweater draped itself over his face, and Draco’s frantic movements slowed. It smelled like… this wasn’t his. If nothing else, Draco wouldn’t put a sweater on a hanger; it stretched out the shoulders.

He drifted back down to the floor, pulling the sweater off his head and clutching the knit in his hands. It was so thick. And it smelled like pine and evergreen, like Potter’s shampoo.

Draco leaned back against the wall, Potter’s clothing laying over him like a quilt. The smell of Potter, his detergent, the faint air of mustiness from the things he rarely wore. Draco breathed in deep, the racing, aching pain in his chest fading ever so slightly.

He wasn’t there. He wasn’t at the manor anymore.

“fuck,” Draco whispered.

Draco pulled the sweater on and wiped his face on the sleeves. He let the warmth of the pile of clothing soak into his skin, content not to move for the rest of his life.

Outside of the closet, Draco heard the sound of the bedroom door opening and then closing behind someone coming inside. Or more than one person as they began to talk.

“-What are you-” Potter said.

“It’s important, it’s important,” Weasley said.

“What-?” Potter sighed.

“Ginny’s back from that quidditch train camp in America,” Weasley said.

There was a long pause before Potter said, “So?”

Weasley sighed, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Gin, but I know it wasn’t bad; you’re still on good terms and everything.”

“Ron-”

“So now that you’ve had a break, you could try it again,” Weasley said.

“Ron,” Potter cut him off. “Just leave it.” “You were together for like... three years?” Weasley said.

“Four,” Potter said flatly, “And it’s none of your business.”

“My best friend and my little sister? It’s a bit my business,” Weasley said.

Potter started to say something but Weasley quickly added. “I know, I know, I just wanted to let you know, y’know, that Ginny was back home.”

Potter sighed heavily, “thanks?”

“I invited her to come today, but she just portkeyed in and she said-”

“Hello?” the door creaked faintly as it opened again.

“Sorry, Luna, we’re coming,” Potter said.

“That’s okay,” Lovegood said as if their being in the room was entirely incidental. “I was looking for Draco.”

“Why-” Weasley started.

Potter talked right over him, “What happened? I thought he was in the kitchen with everyone else.”

“He left after Hermione opened a bottle of wine. I thought he went to the toilet, but it’s empty,” Lovegood said.

“I said no alcohol!” Potter snapped, his voice fading as he stormed out of the room, Weasley on his heel.

The door shut, and there was a beat of silence.

“Draco? Are you here?” Lovegood called softly.

Draco hesitated for a moment, “...Yes.”

“Oh,” Lovegood said. The floor creaked as she moved closer, “Do you want company?”

Draco was fairly certain that he would have said no with anyone else. “I think I would.”

Lovegood opened the closet door, “You look very cosy.”

Draco nodded.

Lovegood dropped to her hands and knees, crawling into the other side of the closet. She took a moment to arrange herself, sitting cross-legged and grabbing one of Potter’s fallen cloaks to pull over her lap like a blanket.

“I checked the bed first, but Harry’s bed isn’t a very good place to hide,” Lovegood said.

“It would have been my second choice,” Draco said.

Lovegood nodded seriously, “I always hide under my blankets. I put a charm on them so it looks like no one is under them. It’s my safe place.”

“That sounds far more comfortable. And quite clever,” Draco said.

“Was it the wine?” Lovegood asked. “Because you mentioned you used to drink before.”

Draco nodded. Then laughed weakly. “I think I was triggered? How convenient to have an example so soon after learning about them.”

“It’s cellars for me,” Lovegood said, “The smell especially. That musty, damp smell...” she grimaced and huffed a breath.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said.

“You’re silly,” Lovegood said. “Have you learned about grounding at all?”

Draco shook his head.

“I like hugs best,” Lovegood said, holding out her hands, “but hand holding is good too.”

Draco looked at her small hands in dismay.

“Do you not like touching?” Lovegood asked.

“I- We- You and I-?” Draco said.

“It’s alright. Isn’t it?” Lovegood said.

Draco frowned but did as he was told, holding his hands out and allowing Lovegood to take them. She had a surprisingly strong grip, giving Draco’s hands a quick, tight squeeze.

“Grounding is being here rather than there,” Lovegood said.

Draco’s brow furrowed.

“Like when you’re triggered, it pulls your mind right back into that bad moment in the past, so you have to pull it back to the here and now. And grounding is finding something to focus on in the present.” Lovegood squeezed his hands again, “Like this. If I’m at home, I’ll ask my dad to give me the tightest hug he can manage. If he’s not there, I’ll climb under the covers because it’s warm and soft and smells like lavender; I always keep a sachet under my pillow. And then I usually take a nap because being upset is so very tiring.”

Draco nodded emphatically, “Extremely tiring.”

Luna smiled brightly. “I’m glad we got to meet again. I hope we get to talk more. I think we might be friends.”

“Friends,” Draco repeated softly.

“Yes,” Lovegood said.

“Do you really…?” Draco said.

“I do,” Lovegood said.

Draco wasn’t sure what, or even if he could, say anything to that. “Lovegood…”

“Luna. I’d like you to call me Luna. And I’ll call you Draco, alright?”

“If… if you’re sure,” Draco said.

“Very and entirely,” Love- Luna said.

A shadow fell over them as Potter loomed into the doorway, looking at the two of them in dismay, “What-? Why are you sitting in my closet?”

“I found Draco,” Luna said brightly. “Have you started another game?”

“...Not yet. They were arguing about which one to play. Ron wants to play poker-”

“Boo. I want to play one of the cooperative ones. They’re more fun,” Luna said, hopping to her feet and ducking around Potter, going to the living room to state her case to the rest of the group.

They were left alone. And Potter was staring at him.

“Luna, huh?” Potter said, “Luna’s a good friend to have. One of the best.”

“...She’s certainly an improvement over the rest of them,” Draco said.

Potter frowned but shook the expression off, “They’ll come around, you’ll see.”

Draco began pushing Potter’s clothes off his lap. He should probably apologise; he had knocked all but a few of Potter’s uniforms onto the floor.

“You shouldn’t hang your sweaters. It stretches them out,” Draco said instead.

Potter huffed a faint laugh and held out his hand, pulling Draco easily to his feet. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Me? Fine. Obviously,” Draco gestured to the closet, “never been better.”

Potter took a step closer and cupped Draco’s face between his hands. He brushed a thumb across Draco’s cheek as he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips.

“Oh,” Draco said faintly.

“Sorry, I should have asked,” Potter said.

Draco shook his head, catching Potter’s wrists in his hands before he could pull away. “I just didn’t think...” this would ever happen.

Draco closed the space between them and kissed Potter back. His hands skimmed down the firm muscles of Potter’s arms, the muscles flexing as Draco’s hands slid over them. Draco gasped lightly as his back pressed into the open closet door.

He saw Potter’s hesitation and cut it off, “Pin me tighter.”

Draco nipped Potter’s bottom lip, curling his arms around Potter’s shoulders. He shivered faintly as Potter’s hands wandered down his sides, hips-

“Can you lift me?” Draco asked and was delighted when Potter immediately shifted his grip, his fingers curling under Draco’s thighs and sliding him up the door. He laughed breathlessly, his legs looping around Potter’s waist. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” he said and kissed Potter again and again.

Potter’s eyes were intense, his heart pounding in his chest where it was pressed against Draco’s. Draco indulged in running his fingers through Potter’s hair, catching silky loops of black around his fingertips and tugging. And Potter made a noise in the back of his throat that would have made Draco go weak at the knees if Potter wasn’t holding him up.

“Malfoy,” Potter breathed. His mouth moved down along Draco’s jaw, and Draco tilted his head up, allowing Potter’s mouth to trail down his neck, tongue flicking out and leaving a trail of heat behind.

“Harry! Are you coming?!” Longbottom called from the living room.

Potter startled, and Draco grabbed onto him tightly in case Potter forgot he was holding him up.

“Sorry,” Potter said. He adjusted his grip and let Draco back down onto his feet.

“We’re about to start,” Granger added loudly.

Potter took a second, letting his hands linger on Draco’s hips before he called back to the living room, “I’m coming!” He looked out of breath and flushed. It was a good look on him.

“Sorry-”

“You said that already,” Draco said.

“No, I’m sorry about Hermione,” Potter said. “I told them no alcohol, but I didn’t say why. I figured you wouldn’t want them to know.”

“….thank you,” Draco said.

“Harry!” Weasley shouted.

Potter took a step towards the door, “Are you coming?”

Draco shook his head, “...I’m tired.”

Potter hesitated and then came back, stealing a quick kiss, “Okay. You can use my bed if you want. And, erm… the sweater, just be careful with it. It means a lot to me.”

Draco didn’t miss that Potter eased the door shut as he left so it wouldn’t bang closed.

Draco looked down at the sweater he had put on for the first time, handmade with a large H stitched into the centre. It looked like one of the sweaters Potter would wear around Hogwart’s in the winter. He wondered who had made it for him.

It took what felt like hours to unstick himself from where he was standing, to move anywhere, his mind caught up in a racing, hazy mess of everything that had happened.

Draco sat on the edge of Potter’s bed and dropped onto his back, staring up blankly at the ceiling. Despite what he had said about being tired, he was fairly certain he had never felt more awake in his life.

💜 this heat wave is fun, huh? take care of yourselves out there, stay cool, stay hydrated 💜

Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)

💜 @justafangirlslikes thank you💕💕

💜 @havingaverydrarryday thank you so much!💜💜💜 Luna’s so strong, I love her💜💜

💜 @languedor71 thank youuuuu!

💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you soooo much! I love writing Luna so much😍 💜

💜 @idareyoutotakealook 😭thank you!! 💜 💜

💜 @shadowybook hellohellohello! welcome back 💜 💜 thank you!

💜 @dewitty1 thank you! 💜

💜 @snarkyship draco’s got a really bad self-image, the poor boy 💜 💜thank you! 💜 💜

💜 @kaosuiinku thank you! 💜

💜 @devilrising he jelly because Draco blushed when Nev looked at him🤣 but I’m not sure harry’s even aware of it. 💜thank you!!!

💜 @iamactuallya-cat heck yeah! thank you! 💜

💜 @luna13e-blog welcome! welcome! everyone I’ve met in the drarry community has been really nice😍 it’s a good fandom to be in 💜 💜thank youuuu!

💜thank you💜 @chamomileteafuel 💜 @born-as-the-seventh-month-dies 💜 @et-phone-himself 💜 @irishbeings 💜 @peaceinambiguity 💜 @lilyinthebreeze 💜

💜 @hmmihaventdecidedyet 💜 @undercoverwarlock 💜 @whenrainbowsend 💜 @addicted-to-w0rds 💜 @cloack 💜 @beelzebub-banshee 💜 @justagirlreadingfanfic

#dorthyannwrites #whatever you want draco malfoy #WYWDM #drarry #drarry fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy

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aelinschild · 10 months

Text

TWO - ROWAN

Holding Me Like Water In Your Hands

Main Masterlist | HMLWIYH Masterlist

And its time for chapter two! I'm in the process of creating a masterlist and mood boards along for this series, so look out for that! Anyways, please enjoy, and feel free to let me know your thoughts! :)

SYNOPSIS:A cross continental move forces Aelin Galathynius to open her eyes wider than before, and at the doors of Terrasen's most exclusive and expensive private high school, she realizes her life is flowing through her. And if she wants to make the most of her life, she needs to grab onto something. Or maybe someone. WORDCOUNT: 1.3k GENERAL WARNINGS: Language, Drug use, Alcohol, Allusion to sex/intimacy, Brief descriptions of sexual assault, Domestic violence, Very severe angst, Messy Divorces (More to be added)

The air is hot, and beads of sweat roll down my back. My ratty t-shirt does little to hide the sweat, and the working overalls only add another layer to this heavy Orynth heat.

Terrasen’s weather is well known for being difficult. Freezing winters and withering summers, dramatic rainstorms, or weeks of fog. All part of the routine. I roll out from underneath the car I'm working on. Three out of the four garage doors are propped open, and the AC is coughing up air, it's not cold, but at least it keeps the air moving.

I wipe my grease-stained hands onto my overalls and reach for the filter I need. After I switch this out, then refill the oil, ill be done for the day, and I can hear the creek behind my house beckoning me.

I work in the Elia, one of Orynth’s more reliable garages. And technically my labour is illegal, but being good friends with the Ashryvers comes with perks. Like a job. And I’m the lucky one, because Aedion doesn't even get paid. Gavriel took pity on me years ago, and I've been working here since, trying to cushion my pockets a little more.

The office doors bangs open, disturbing the fragile silence of the room.“Yo,” the devil himself shouts from the other side of the garage. “Dad says you’re good to go if you want. Just stop by the office. He got your moneyyy.” Aedion shouts, humour lining his tone.

It's a running joke, I get paid under the table until I'm sixteen, and Aedion gets nothing. He likes to pretend he’ll tell some sort of authority on me, but Gavriel shuts that down pretty fast.

I snort and roll back under the car. I can hear him banging around somewhere. I move through the motions quickly, tasks like this have become second nature to me at this point.

I was eleven when Gavriel recruited me to his small team of mechanics. Aedion and I constantly were getting into scraps at primary school, and my adopted parents and Gavriel thought a job might help me ease my overactive mind and raging hormones. The past few years have been mostly instruction and learning. Small projects and being the glorified maid for the older guys, but I'm beyond grateful for Gav’s direction.

My family and I aren't rolling in money, and it pained me when I would hear them up at night pouring over overdue bills, attempting to budget and still support Oliver, my adopter father’s medical bills. There was nothing I could do as an eleven-year-old boy, but now I'm fourteen and I make ten dollars an hour. Which magically make their way into Myra, my adopted mother’s, pockets each Sunday.

I fill the oil, and toss the empty bottles into the trash. Dragging a cloth from my overalls across my forehead, I close the hood of the car with one hand and begin to clean up my station. I may not be as good as the older guys, but I'm meticulous about cleaning. Gavriel approves, Aedion calls me anal. I walk my things over to the tool bench and put them away. Elia Ashryver stares at me from her perch on the wall. The photo of her, in the signature Elia red overalls, tattoos lining her arms, and elbow-deep in grease, shines from its spot.

Gavriel and Elia Ashryver started this garage decades ago, but it was Elia who roped Gav into it. She was a wild child. The black sheep of her family. Apparently, she was decorated in ink before Gav had even met her in mechanical school. She was top of her class, knowing how to repair anything with an unnatural efficiency. Machines were second nature to her. And Gavriel fell head over heels in love with the cunning woman and post-graduation, the two were hitched and opening their own garage together. Elia’s expertise was the best in Orynth. And their business bloomed. Soon she was pregnant, and the asshole I call my friend was born.

I've heard the story recited over and over from Gav, who revers his wife, but the end of her story was harder to get out of him. Elia struggled after Aedion’s birth. Her Post-Partum Depression lasted longer than the doctor said it might, and she became a different person. She struggled to bring herself out of bed, be with her child, or work with the machines she once loved. And Gav was so caught up in running a business and caring for his son, that he missed the warning signs. Elia Ashryver ended up overdosing not eight months after Aedion was born.

Her picture never collects dust.

I shut the drawers, and make my way to the office, the red overalls I wear drag slightly on the ground around the heels of my work boots. I'll grow into them eventually. I see Aedions boots underneath a Ford Raptor, which is unsurprisingly back for the fourth time in six weeks.

“Turn on the radio on your way out!” He shouts.

“Kay,” I flick the dial and the room fills with the familiar static of the ancient radio, landing on a more common channel playing the ‘top hits’. I recognize the new song from The Archeron Sisters.

Aedions shitty singing fills the room, and I hastily make my way to Gav’s office before I permanently lose my hearing. I rap my knuckles on the frosted door.

“Come in,” The voice inside shouts.

I push the door open, and I'm hit with the heat of the room. “Gods Gav, this place is like a sauna,” I say as I trudge over to the shelf that holds my cash.

He laughs and runs his hands through his shoulder-length hair. “I heard it's good for the skin, keeps me young, or something.” I laugh and turn to face him after I've slipped the cash into my back pocket.

Gavriel’s a handsome man for all the weight he carries. One might think you'd find the lines of his grief over his face, but it's fitted with wrinkles from all the smiling he does. Somehow, Elia’s death doesn't really haunt him, or this garage. How he does it, ill never know.

He leans back and appraises me.

“You look taller than the last time I saw you,” He muses.

“Taller than yesterday?” I smile.

“Maybe a foot of height?”

“Sure Gav”

“Bigger too, been lifting?”

I roll my eyes. “Nope.”

“You gonna join the rugby team? Aedion’s been crawling up the walls with excitement to start.” He shifts forward, tawny eyes boring into me.

I shift in place, uncomfortable. “I’ll see.”

“You’re nervous to go to ORHS, arent you?” He states.

“I'm not nervous.” I scoff.

We stare at each other. And I wait for him to call me out on my bullshit. Sometimes I think Gavriel knows me better than I know myself. He just hums and nods.

“CUSTOMER!” Aedion bellows from the garage.

Gav rises from the worn leather chair. “Go home kid. I'll see you next week.” He says as he passes by me and wanders out of the office.

I sigh, and turn to the other door that leads to the break room and staff parking lot just outside. Swiping a stale donut off the countertop, I trudge over to my pickup truck that's days away from being impounded into some dinosaur museum. Stuffing my face, I hop in and drive home.

#rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #aelin galythinius #high school #heir of fire #aelin x rowan #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #celaena sardothien #HMLWIYH

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steddieonmywaywardson · 1 year

Text

WIP - I Used To Be A Hero

Just a little part of a WIP I’ve got cooking! Please take care when reading as it involves self harm. Nothing really graphic but there’s blood mentions.

If he closes his eyes. If he dares to sleep, all he can see is horror. It’s Max, laying in a hospital bed, almost every single piece of her is broken. It’s Dustin, face covered in scratches, gashes up his arms from the Demobats, and his expression frozen in utter terror.

And Eddie. Oh God Eddie…

The first time Steve cut himself, it was two in the morning.

He hasn’t slept for almost forty-eight straight hours. The house is dark and silent. His parents are God knows where. Miami? Japan? England? He lost track weeks ago.

It’s just him and his bathroom and the razor blade he’s liberated from its plastic housing. He doesn’t know what makes him do it. But he drags the blade in a neat line across the top of his right thigh. Blood immediately starts to bead across it.

He does it again. And again. He presses in a little more. Slowly, mechanically, until there are eighteen lines. A line for every year he’s been alive. Robotically, he watches the beads of blood as they well up and start to spill down his pale skin in small rivulets.

And Eddie. Oh God Eddie…

Wounds so deep that he can see the muscles underneath. They pulse rhythmically. His eyes flutter and he moans and Steve and Dustin drag him along toward the hole that leads back to the trailer, leaving a thick trail of his blood behind in their wake.

It feels like it's miles.

They’d nearly lost Eddie that night and it hadn’t taken a team of medical staff to tell Steve that.

Night after night turned into week after week, sitting by Eddie’s bed. Lucas and the kids had Max’s back so they’d told him and Robin to stick with Eddie to make sure Wayne wouldn’t be alone.

While Eddie lay comatose Steve got to learn all about his favorite music from hours of conversation with his Uncle Wayne. The older man was trying to balance his bedside vigil with keeping his job and it was taking its toll. Whenever he could, Steve kept him in cups of crappy hospital coffee and boxed meals made by Joyce who’d also provided a bag full of Hopper’s spare clothes when Wayne hadn’t had the time to go to the laundry.

As soon as Steve had found out Eddie’s favorite tracks, he’d made a mixtape using the records he’d found in Eddie’s room. He noticed they’d been alphabetized. Such an odd orderly thing for the normally chaotic Eddie Munson to do.

Peeking into Eddie’s room was like being given a window straight into his mind. His Dungeons and Dragons box files packed tight with notes, some so full they were held together with elastic bands. His band t-shirts that were scattered around the room or thrown in the general direction of the laundry basket. The posters on the walls of bands and gigs that Steve had never heard of. The room was messy, and chaotic and looked as though it had been hit by a tornado. Perfect for Eddie.

He played the mixtape he’d made as much as the nursing staff would let him. Within two weeks he was word-perfect in every song. He was never going to be a metal fan. But the words and melodies brought him closer to Eddie.

Robin was his unfaltering rock the whole time. Forcing packed lunches on him. Nudging him towards a shower every few days and covering for him at Family Video.

She’d sat at the other side of the bed as often as he could, chatting to him about high school gossip, music, and the books she was reading. Anything to give him some sense of normalcy. Once she’d gently eased Eddie’s hands from underneath the sheets and, careful of the IVs, painted his nails black.

“Like Ozzy,” She said with a smile. Steve nodded, actually understanding the reference this time.

Steve was there when Eddie finally started to wake up. It wasn’t like some silly soap opera where he suddenly opened his eyes and was back in the land of the living. It was a slow, arduous process. His eyes opened more and more each day, staying awake for longer and longer until finally, he was back.

Robin had asked Steve so many times what he was going to do when Eddie finally woke up. Steve always said the same thing. He was going to punch him on the shoulder and call him a butthead for scaring the crap out of them all.

What he actually did was tell Eddie that he loved him.

Steve had expected the world to collapse and swallow him up. But it hadn’t. Eddie had studied his face for a few moments.

And said it back.

And in that hospital room on that Tuesday afternoon, they’d become a couple. Just like that.

Nobody had been surprised of course. Steve thought he’d been so subtle, so careful. He’d tried not to stare at Eddie too long. Tried not to melt in the seat of that RV the first time he’d called him ‘Big Boy’.

Turns out he’d been pretty damn obvious.

When he’d told Robin and Nancy over a coffee in the hospital cafeteria, Robin’s first words had been ‘fucking finally’. Nancy had grinned and, the next time she’d seen Jonathan she’d whispered a ‘told you so’.

The kids? The little shits. Will and Mike had rolled their eyes and Lucas had cursed as they’d each handed Dustin a ten. Apparently, they’d all called a date but Dustin’s had been the closest.

Wayne had simply clapped his nephew on the back and given Steve a handshake. Eddie had told Steve later that his uncle had known about his sexuality for years. While Eddie hadn’t ever pinned a label onto himself, Wayne had worked out he wasn’t straight.

And the Harringtons? Well, Steve’s sure he would’ve told them if they’d been around or given enough of a shit to call him and check in once in a while.

Fast forward two months and, on the surface at least, everything had settled into a nice, death-seeking-monster-free equilibrium.

Max was doing well and had been discharged from the hospital into a rehab center a few miles away with Lucas visiting her at every opportunity. Nancy and Jonathan were prepping to start college. Will and El were doing well back in California and the lovesick Mike had been full of the joys of spring when Joyce had announced their return to Hawkins once the school year was out.

Eddie, by some miracle, was still on track to graduate (mostly with Robin and Nancy’s help) and was planning an epic summer road trip with the rest of Corroded Coffin.

And Steve?

Steve was sitting on his bathroom floor, starting at eighteen slowly bleeding from self-inflicted cuts.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stranger things fic #tw cutting #tw self harm #tw blood

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blackwolfflame · 1 year

Text

Ferris Wheel Blues: D.T X ALEX FIC

TW: Acrophobia(Heights), Basophobia(Falling), panic attacks and anxiety, s*lf-h*rm

Please be warned

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was warm outside. Alex and D.T had taken the day off work to spend some time together at a fair. The whole day D.T had been begging Alex to go on the ferris wheel with him. Of course, Alex had been putting it off. "Later dear.", "After this ride.", "After we eat.", and more excuses of the like, until it was nearly the fairs closing time, and Alex couldn't use anymore excuses. D.T beamed as they got into the basket. Alex became extremely tense as the ride powered on.

The first go around was ok. Alex kept his head down on the way up and he seem to get paler as it went down, but everything seemed ok. The second go around, the ride stopped. Alex and D.T where stuck at the top. "Dammit. What the-" D.T started to say before a voice cut him off. "Attention riders. The ferris wheel has malfunctioned. A mechanic will be here as soon as possible. We thank you for your paitents." D.T sighed and looked out the basket. "Huh, I guess we got the best place to stop, right Alex?" D.T paused. "Alex?"

D.T finally looked over at his partner. Alex was sweating beads, pale as paper, and shaking like a leaf. His wings were out. 'Why would he bring his wings out? He can't fly.' D.T thought. Alex gripped his crimson wings and started pulling feathers out, mumbling to himself. "JESUS- Alex! Stop that!" D.T yelped, jumping up from his seat. Alex did stop, but it was just to scream in terror. D.T sat back down as Alex cried. "Je ne veux pas tombé! Je ne veux pas tombé! Arreté! Arreté s'il vous plait!." It was clear at this point that Alex was having a panic attack. His breaths were raggedy and short, he was crying, sweating and still yanking out crimson feathers from his wings. And D.T couldn't help, since trying to move towards Alex would cause him more distress.

It was another 20 minutes until the ride was fixed. D.T managed to talk Alex out of pulling out feathers, but he had turned to rocking and scratching his arms violently. When everything was really quiet, D.T could figure out what Alex was saying. All he was whispering was 'Not again' over and over. Suddenly, the ride jolted to a start. Alex's head shot up and his breathing quicked, if that were even possible. He was crying even harder as the ride repeatedly descended, then stopped, then descended again. As soon as they got off, D.T didn't even let Alex set foot on the ground. Instead, he grab Alex's crutch, scoop him up, and carried him to the car.

"Je suis désolé, D.T" This was the first thing Alex had said since they got off the ride. He had said nothing on the ride home, during dinner or anything. Donald and Douglas were staying with their partners, so they weren't home, but Dash and Bash were, and they seemed very worried about their dad. D.T looked up from brushing Alex's hair. "I don't know a lot of french puppy, but I think that your apologizing to me. Is that correct?" Alex nodded. "You don't need to apologize. It was my fault anyway. If I had noticed that you were trying to avoid going on the ferris wheel out of fear, I wouldn't have made you go on it." D.T said, looking at Alex's wings and arms. His arms weren't bad, he hadn't drawn blood from scratching, but his wings had small bald patches. D.T sighed. "Come on puppy, lets go to bed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@jammyjams1910 @just-a-douglas-simp-existing

Alex's mutterings do have a meaning. Be on the look out ;).

#family of enchantment au #ttte #ttte human au #ttte humanisation #ttte disel 10 #angst #💙Alex💙#🧡SteamDiesel💙

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oxygenbefore1775 · 2 years

Text

Reipikujean NSFW Headcanons

because I can't stop thinking about them

characters included: Reiner, Pieck, Jean

cw: polyamorous relationship, threesome, oral (m! and f! receiving), anal (m! receiving) implied, a bit of manhandling - lmk if i missed something

it has all started with Reiner and Pieck setting off an affair - desperate to distance themselves from the consequences of the Rumbling that they faced on the daily basis as embassadors, they found comfort in each other's company (and bed)

as twisted as this coping mechanism was, it was much easier for both of them to fuck away the thoughts that otherwise would keep them up at night

soon Pieck's longing gaze began to wander since Reiner could support her emotionally but couldn't always satiate her physically - right when Jean caught her attention

not knowing much about Jean, Pieck sought Reiner's help as they started to look into him as their potential paramour; the two of them finally approached Jean with a proposal

Jean had already known what was happenning behind the closed doors of either Reiner's or Pieck's bedroom, but he never expected to be invited into the affair; in this changing world, constantly moving across the continent, making statements in front of country representatives in hopes that this would change something - Jean was in dire need of stability, a safe space where he for sure would be welcomed, and if Reiner and Pieck could be his safe harbour then he would be happy to join in the ménage à trois

now with the actual nsfw content

Pieck has Reiner and Jean wrapped around her finger as she is laying down on the bed, aiming at her own pleasure — with Jean's head inbetween her thighs, his tongue lapping against her slick folds eagerly and his fingers teasing her puffy nub with a flickering motion, all the while Reiner is catching her muffled whimpers with his lips, kisses sloppy as saliva gathers at the corners of Pieck's mouth

out of the three of them, Pieck is the one not to skimp on praises, her compliments almost teasing while her hand strokes Reiner's hair - telling him what a good boy he is for filling her cunt so nicely and how sweet his moans are - occasionally tugging on his blonde strands whenever the tip of his cock kisses her cervix

touch-starved, Reiner can't help but to be vocal at every caress coming from Pieck and Jean; especially when Reiner's sprawled on the bed, Jean thrusting into him, his movements slow yet penetrating deep inside of him, Pieck riding his face, her arousal coating his chin - then there's just no stopping Reiner's moans escaping his lips

usually composed, Jean loses all restraint he has as the lust renders him impatient - in anticipation of the coming intimacy Jean can pick Pieck up, grasping her thighs firmly as she wraps her arms around his neck, to rush to one of the bedrooms and collapse on the bed together, pinning Pieck down with no escape from his wet caresses (Jean would like to do the same thing with Reiner just for the sake of seeing his face turn red, but alas, Reiner's big stature is getting in the way of Jean's fantasies)

as the most vigorous but the least experienced out of the three of them, Jean is clueless when it comes to more... exquisite sexual practices - that's why, after all of them reached their highs, Reiner and Pieck give Jean lessons, teaching him how to put his mouth to the good use with either Reiner or Pieck standing in as a test subject while the other one guides Jean, their fingers brushing against Jean's cheeks and neck in encouragement, words of praise falling down from their lips

beads of sweat covering their skinn after sex, three of them settle together on the bed - with Pieck always laying in the center, nestled right between Reiner's and Jean's broad bodies; Pieck's orgasm sucks all of the strength out of her so she falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow - while Reiner and Jean spend the rest of the night talking, baring their souls and all fears hidden there to each other, their kisses as sole consolation

#aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #aot smut #aot headcanons #reiner braun #pieck finger #jean kirstein #reiner smut #pieck smut #jean smut #reipikujean #reiner x pieck x jean

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not-your-housekeeper98 · 1 year

Text

Fear

Febuwhump day 2: Flinching

Fandom: Macgyver

Summary: Jack is captured and tortured (psychologically)

Ao3 Link

Also posted below

Laughter echoed through the warehouse.

“If that was meant to scare us you’re going to have to try harder than that man,” Jack grinned leaning back in the chair he was duct-taped to.

Their captor turned around without a reply and continued to pace menacingly around the room.

Jack winked at Mac who was trying to cut through his own bonds as unobtrusively as possible. Jack noticed his shaking hands and the beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. Poor kid he must be terrified, Jack thought. He was too. His own hands were shaking and he kept his jaw clenched with a large smile plastered over to hide how he really felt. They had heard terrifying things about the man who had captured them and what he did to people. Jack had struggled to look at the pictures of the bodies. He had hid his fear with a poorly-timed joke.

He couldn’t have said when it started, it seemed like it was always a part of him. He was tough and brave there was no doubt about that, but he always felt the need to make an extra effort to seem unafraid. To Riley he tried to be a hero, a champion who could never lose, was never afraid. With Mac too he assigned himself to be his protector, to always have his back and never let him down. Over the years Jack had perfected hiding his fear and he prided himself on it.

Out of nowhere his captor leaned in, staring Jack directly in the eyes. He was so close, Jack could feel his breath. Jack froze, maintaining his grin and meeting the man’s stare trying to ignore the fear gnawing through his insides.

After a tense moment the man stepped back and threw a punch at Jack’s face, pausing barely an inch from his nose. Jack flinched. The man smiled. He threw another punch, again barely missing Jack’s face. He flinched again.

Jack was angry with himself. He knew it was an involuntary reflex and there was nothing he could do about it. Mac would have some scientific explanation about brain defense mechanisms or something, but that thought did little to comfort him. He was angry he couldn’t control every part of his fear. Jack closed his eyes and tried to quell the panic he felt rising in his chest.

He didn’t notice Mac had freed himself.

He did hear a sound which made him open his eyes instantly. The man had drawn a knife and was swinging it around towards his face. Jack threw all pretense aside and tried to jerk his head out of the knife’s path. Everything seemed to slow down as he watched the arc of the knife come towards him. He closed his eyes and flinched again. The blow never landed.

He didn’t dare open his eyes and bit his lip to keep from screaming. His breathing came in small gasps as he held himself as far back as the chair would allow.

A hand touched his arm and he screamed.

“Jack, it’s me,” Mac held up his hands, “I’m just going to cut you loose, OK?”

Jack opened his eyes and was relieved to see he and Mac were the only conscious people in the room.

Mac worked quickly and in no time Jack’s hands were freed. He immediately wrapped them around Mac in a bear hug. Instant relief washed over him which turned to tears streaming down his face.

#febuwhump2023 #febuwhumpday2 #flinching #macgyver #whump

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musecaravan · 2 years

Text

An Inch of Time - Hanzo/Herger/Cole

“An inch of time is an inch of gold but you can’t buy that inch of time with an inch of gold.” - Chinese Proverb

It was supposed to be an easy mission. But Cole should’ve known by then to take those words with a grain of salt. Hell - he was pretty sure Athena didn’t even know what that word meant anymore. Either that, or the AI needed some serious upgrades. But yeah - easy. Make their way into the abandoned Talon base, deal with any remaining ‘security measures’ and scavenge whatever tech and files they could find. Winston and Tracer had gone after the files, Jack and Anna were dealing with security, which left Hanzo and himself scrounging through empty laboratories looking for anything that might be useful… or help them get a bead on what Talon’s next moves might be.

Cole had to admit that the entire mission had felt… off from the beginning. Why was the place abandoned so suddenly? Athena didn’t have any intel on that. But Talon has left in a hurry and Overwatch (still trying to find itself in this new world) needed all the help they could get, so they’d acted. Now, as he watched Hanzo move quietly along beside him, Cole hoped things here were exactly what they seemed. He allowed the hint of a smile to cross his lips as he thought about his previous night with the archer.

What they had was… unexpected. But also damn good. How Genji’s wayward brother had managed to become such an important part of his life in such a short amount of time was something Cole didn’t question too closely. The man made him happier that he’d thought possible, and that was enough.

Forcing his mind back to the present, Cole kept his eyes on the corridor as Hanzo moved ahead of him into the next room. A brilliant blue light suddenly flooded the hallway from the door… before it closed with a soft ‘whoosh-click,’, sealing him off from Hanzo and whatever had been triggered by the archer’s entry into the room. With a curse, Cole bounded for the door, trying to pry it open. “Winston, I gotta problem,” he called into his comm. “Somethin’s goin on, an’ Hanzo’s stuck in tha middle of it!” There was a staticky crackle of what might’ve been his teammate’s voice, but nothing discernible. With another curse, Cole did the only other thing he could think of - he turned his gun to the door’s control panel, and fired.

The door popped open about an inch, blue light flooding the corridor once more and Cole leapt forward to pry it the rest of the way open. Inside he couldn’t really make sense of what exactly was happening. There was a platform, and in the center was a thrumming, swirling circle of blue light… and it was inhaling everything that wasn’t nailed down! Hanzo had managed to grab onto a support beam, but his lower body was already within the ravenous void. Feeling himself being sucked forward as well, Cole angled for the same beam as Hanzo, grabbing onto his lover with his prosthetic arm, and holding onto the beam with the other.

Just as he did, Hanzo lost his grip. Cole still felt himself holding onto the other man, but the archer was completely within the portal now. “No, dammit!” As if crying out could change whatever was happening. He tried not to crush Hanzo’s arm with his mechanical grip as his serape whipped around between them, dancing in and out of the brilliant blue glow. Cole’s hold on the support column loosened. His arm was in the portal now, but he could still feel Hanzo holding on, so he knew whatever this was, it hadn’t killed the other man. Yet.

And then the room suddenly went dark. Cole heard a sharp ‘crack-pop-sizzle’ as his prosthetic (or what was left of it) dropped uselessly to his side. What the HELL had just happened?! Suddenly his comm snapped to life. “Cole! What’s going on down there?! We had to cut the power…”

Oh… oh god! He felt his mind start to spiral, but forced words into his mouth. “Winston! I lost Hanzo! You gotta turn the power back on! We gotta get him back!” Emergency lights began to flicker on… but the dais where the portal had been stayed dark and empty. Oh fuck…!

Winston was talking again… asking questions. Cole just stared at the place Hanzo had been mere moments before. Then the voice changed to Jack’s - more demanding. Gaze sliding down to where his prosthetic hand had once been, Cole forced himself to take a breath and start talking. The sooner they figured this out, the sooner he could get Hanzo back. He needed to focus. Losing it wouldn’t help the man he’d so quickly grown to love. The sooner he pulled himself together, the sooner they’d get this figured out and get Hanzo back. Because there was no way in HELL they weren’t getting the other man back. Cole would see to that.

@piercedflora / @leatherandsoil

#Partner: changingthelights #Partner: leatherandsoil #Cole: An Inch of Time #Cole: Overwatch Verse #Muse: Cole #Threads: Cole

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

Moments of Despair #1 [Genshin Impact/Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: “The man who was on fire and realized it too late.”

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Albedo's despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death, graphic depictions of violence perhaps

(A/n): Had these ideas for a while after reading @/serensama To Mourn series of another fandom. So much sorrow and feeling I just was inspired to write 😫

_______________________________________________

The moment you fell lifeless in Diluc's arms, he wanted to disappear.

It was raining again, he had always despised the rain. How it trickles down the slope of your cheek, like tears falling from the heavens. The sight of it mixing with your blood creating a thin stream of red rivers flowing beside him. They patter down obnoxiously because time didn't care, the gods don't care, the world didn't care. You were just a small fragile person to their eyes but to him you were his light. A candle that used to shine in his dark world was now dissipitated by the waters of reality.

Many droplets have passed and he was still holding you. Diluc could do nothing but stare. He hadn't shed any tears nor could he make a coherent sound. Perhaps it was because his tears have long run out when his father was held in the very same way. Or it was because he was heartless. He's usually told for being cold and indifferent. But the pain clenching in his chest was proof that he still had one (proof that it was still beating), much to his dismay. It would be better if he didn't.

So why can't he just look away? Your wounds, your bruised features, everything now etched so deep into the back of his conciousness that is was starting to awaken his worst nightmares. They were the source of the bile growing in his stomach. The irony stench filling up his nostrils felt so sickening. He couldn't turn away. You're dead. You're dead. You're dead. As if reality had yet to register, or maybe he refused to accept it, Diluc helplessly gazed down your body with blank and empty eyes.

"Master Diluc..."

Jean's voice called out to him pitifully. He rises up with his back turned, ignoring the stares given to him, "Leave. The knights of favonius are not needed here."

"But she's a Mondstadt citizen," The anemo user retorts, slightly taken aback by his impassive reaction, "It's my responsibility to ensure this case doesn't go unnoticed."

Unnoticed. Diluc scoffs in his mind, what a tasteless joke.

"It seems you weren't listening," he announces as his head was turned ajar so they could see the deep hatred glowing red in his eyes, "Leave. Now."

Jean's lips trembled before barely being able to say, "Alright" and retreating her knights back to the city. Kaeya narrows his gaze at his bother, the sorrow was evident through his pupils. He steps forward until he was arms length away from his brother. Too little too late, another failure was added to the belt.

Kaeya was a man of many words but for once he was at loss of what to say. No underhanded suggestions, no ideas taunting him to spill his thoughts, he simply asks Diluc, "What are you planning to do now?"

Silence. Kaeya couldn't predict what sort of expression his brother was making as he looks at your corpse. It brought a heavy weight of unsettlement upon him and here he thought he had already grown used to his brother's quietness.

Slowly, he turns around while letting the water pour down his face. Kaeya tightens his jaw as Diluc drags his feet towards him, stopping when their shoulders were parallel, "It's none of your concern."

"You're just going to leave her here?"

There was a slight pause which was enough of an answer. The Cavalry Captain sighs when he watched him walk away, what was the point of asking when Kaeya knew Diluc so well? He glances at your form before swiftly shutting his eyes.

It was his concern.

-------

A week later, the staff of the Ragnvindr household could hardly recognize their Master's appearance. They knew not to bother him when he decides to lock himself in his chambers. Diluc drowns himself with work from hours to no end as he connects the findings of the person that took your life. As expected, it was one of his enemies- a fatui member. The question was, which one?

"Master Diluc, I beg of you, please take care of yourself," Elzer pleads.

The pyro user didn't bother to spare him a glance or look at the tray of food he carried.

Food...you always brought them whenever he had to work overtime.

"I do not remember specifiying anyone to be allowed in my office," he voices aloud, "If it's related to business affairs simply leave that with Adelinde and I'll take a look at it tomorrow."

"I understand. But you've been working all day and night yet refusing to take any breaks in between. At this rate, you'll harm your health."

The feather pen in his grip kept dragging it's course, "This is beyond the duties assigned to you Elzer."

"That's because it was a request sent by your father," he adds, knowing that stepping over his boundaries may cost him, "If Master Crepus was still here, I'm sure he would have said the same thing."

Taking a deep breath, Elzer lays out his last card, "And also your wife."

The pen slows into a halt.

No one had brought you up until now. Elzer anxiously watches his Master shifting in his seat, his red bangs covering half of his face but he could still see the frown pressing firmly on his lips. It wouldn't be a surprise if Diluc suddenly bursted at him for mentioning such a sensitive topic, all that matters was his master's well being and Elzer was willing to risk everything for it. But nothing. Diluc turns his attention ever so slightly at the tray he carried.

"Fine, but I'm not eating that."

"What? Wasn't this was her favourite-"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

Elzer furrows his brows before sighing, "...No, Master Diluc."

He exits the room while carrying the fresh dish of Once Upon A Mondstadt that you loved so much. The door closes with a soft click and he was alone again.

People found it strange how Diluc seemed so vacant to your passing. He didn't even show up at your funeral. Instead, he continues his duties as a Mondstadt nobleman like usual while taking care of business matters associated with the winery. Except those who were close to him could see the difference in his actions. Apathy, he was so mechanical in every task he did. Like a marionette attatched on strings, a doll without a soul. After all, his soul died the moment when yours did too. What remains was a shadow of Diluc and a being existing solely for revenge and duty. He was nothing but a remnant.

Fatigue begins to wash over him and he fights to stay awake. Because once he gives in it will all be over. Once he closes his eyes, he would see your face with a multitude of images from the past. He would hear your voice calling out his name from a distant space as it echoes off the walls of his mind. He would fall into a dream where you were still with him and as always, waking up to see that it was never real.

I should have pushed you away.

Because what hurt Diluc the most wasn't that you were gone, rather, it was how you were still here.

Then you'd still be-

Something breaks and it turned out to be the pen he was holding so tightly. Only now Diluc realized how fast his heart was thrumming as beads of sweat began rolling down his forehead. Focus. Don't waste time. He won't grant himself the liberty of anything when your murderer was still on the run. Every wound they inflicted on you was going to be returned in tenfold. He'll make sure of it. That's why, he refuses to think about you at all. Diluc occupies his mind with other matters since at this point, work was the only efficient method of keeping his sanity in tact.

She needs you to focus.

The door opens and Kaeya enters the room while holding a document, "We found the guy."

His reaction was immediate, "Where?"

"Hm, now that we meet, it's actually quite debateable," The captain notes wryly, "When was the last time you've gotten proper rest?"

"I don't have time for this, either you tell me or I'll do it by force."

Kaeya couldn't help but sigh, "Apologies but you don't seem to be in any state for a fight. I'm sure you know how it would end up if you were to face your enemy right now."

"..."

"Diluc, this isn't healthy," Kaeya asserts, it's been a while since he sounded so sincere, "I'm not here to prevent you from doing what's necessary however, perhaps it would be better if I finished it in your stead."

"No," Diluc stubbornly answers, "Hand that over."

"...Heh, then there's really nothing I can do to stop you it seems," he whispers with a sad smile, "At the very least, be careful."

"I intend to," The pyro user snatches the paper parchment out of Kaeya's hands before opening the window, "Also, if Elzer returns, tell him there's a few errands I have to take care of."

The night was a full moon and the sky was empty, Diluc leaps off the edge and disappears into the darkness. There was no telling of what could happen next. Since you weren't here, it was up to Kaeya to watch over him.

-------

The claymore dropped to the ground with a clang as it soaks up the blood of the fatui he just killed.

Diluc was tired, so tired.

He slumps down against the wall from pure exhaustion, all that adrenaline and hatred went up in fumes, leaving behind whatever was left in his heart: nothing. Two hours, not even that far from Mondstadt, the fatui hid in an abandoned building as he cowarded for his life. When Diluc arrived, he never expected this monster to be so weak. This was the person who murdered you? A pathetic nobody that was simply following orders? This was the reason why he lost you forever?

In the end, the only one to blame was himself, for being weak and unable to protect you. He was supposed to be your hero ("Darknight hero," you'd always tease), the rock that shields you just as you had been the warmth he longed for many years, did he give you enough? Was this enough? He thought avenging your death would grant him a peace of mind and the justice you deserved but deep down, he knew it will never be enough when it comes to his love for you.

"Diluc."

He closes his eyes, he hears your voice. He was so tired, it wouldn't be a surprise if he started hallucinating.

"Diluc."

"I'm sorry..."

The man lets out a trembled breath as he apologized to the image of you in his mind. I'm sorry I failed you. They were repeated like a mantra in hopes to reach you somehow. Of course that was impossible, his feelings, his emotions, love and sorrow altogether will never reach you again. And your arms that once comforted him and brushed his hair with a soothing voice, saying everything will be okay, where are they now?

"Diluc."

"Stop," he didn't want to hear your voice.

"Diluc, I'm here."

"Stop..."

"Diluc..."

He jolts his eyes open and lets out a yell, what was he saying? He doesn't know. All he needed now was to drown out the fake voices mocking in his head. Diluc grabs the nearest object and shatters it against the floor, the dam was broken and it flooded uncontrollably, breaking everything in it's way. The abandoned house was filled with loud cries of a man sobbing with agony like a broken-hearted child. He crumbles to his knees and falls to his side, lifting his forearms while clutching his face.

And screamed.

Archons, what did he do to deserve this? Why do the people he cherish get taken away from him? Diluc never wanted to be the Darknight hero if it meant having his father perish in his arms. He didn't want the feeling of stabs against his chest with every breath he took. He didn't want to feel cold while knowing it was because you weren't here to hold him. He didn't want your voice, your pictures or your memory.

He wanted you.

"(Y/n)..." he chokes. Rolling to his back, Diluc moves his arms to cover his eyes, letting the tears run down to his ears, "(Y/n)..."

For who knows how long, he lays there in the abandoned building and mourns. Diluc doesn't have the strength to move from his position, he found himself staring mindlessly through the cracks of the roof when his voice had gone hoarse. The corners of his eyes still burned and his head was throbbing with so much pain. Maybe he should just stay here but the thought of being in the same room as your murderer was unfathomable.

Picking up his claymore once again, Diluc drags himself out of the door. Where would he go? It's not like he had a home to return to because home was when he was with you. A doll without a soul, the marionette moves as if the strings have commanded him to do so. Where ever it takes him, he didn't care. He just knew he had to go.

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book-of-baba-fett · 3 years

Text

A Lucky Hand - Fives x Fem!Reader

Crossposted on A03

Fives finds himself running low on credits during a game of pazaak with his favorite mechanic, but a risky wager on his end might end up benefitting both of you.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Oral Sex (f/m receiving). Drinking, PiV intercourse, (let me know if I miss anything!)

***

“And I win another round! Come on Fives, at this rate you should just hand me all your credits,” You tease at the clone sitting across the table from you. Your smirk is met with a scowl that doesn’t reach his sparkling amber eyes. The 501st is on leave on Coruscant, and they're one of your favorite clone battalions. You work as a mechanic at the military base where their barracks are, and once the war started up you got to know a bunch of the troops as they came through to ask for your help on any equipment they damaged on their last deployment. This is how you got to know Fives particularly well; if something could break, Fives would find the way to do it.

After he had annoyed you enough times by breaking the gear you had just fixed for him, he started to repay you by inviting you to hang out in parts of the base that were off limits to most of the civilian workforce, like the break room you were in this night. A few troopers were scattered around; most had early shifts on the base tomorrow so they couldn’t spend their free time at 79s that particular night. This meant they were entertaining themselves more tamely than usual but for many of the troopers this meant drinking ale and gambling on games or podraces they were watching on the holo, or in Fives and your case Pazaak.

Fives begrudgingly slides you the credits on the table and starts to deal out the next round. He was not a man who took defeat easily. Since his shifts for the day were over, he was only armored from the waist down and has his blacks on top. You’ve been drinking some ale during the night and you couldn’t help but notice the way the fabric clung to his body, particularly his broad chest and hard biceps.

Woah watch it there, you work around a million guys who look the same as him. Once you let those thoughts in there’s no going back. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him even without the alcoholic influence. Fives drove you crazy half the time, but he was just so damn hot you let it slide.

“You do have a point,” Fives suddenly spoke up and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. Once you notice he’s looking through his utility belt, you realize he’s answering your previous statement. “You’ve cleaned me out, I don’t have any more to bet tonight. That is…unless you’re not opposed to wagering something a little more interesting?”

You take a sip of your ale, draining the bottle. “And what do you propose?”

Fives looked around the room, making sure none of his brothers were paying too close attention to the two of you. Luckily, they were all focused on their own entertainment. His face broke into a grin as he looked into your eyes and leaned in closer to you.

“If I win this round, you give me a handjob,” he whispered into your ear.

You huff out a laugh to act nonchalant, but the truth is you feel a flutter in your stomach and a flush to your cheek by the suggestion. Everything between you too had just been friendly before, and while Fives had gotten flirty occasionally you never thought he was serious. He was Fives, that’s what he was like with everyone.

“Well, that is an interesting suggestion. What do I get if I win then?” you reply, trying to sound as transactive as possible; like this was some normal deal with a trader.

“If your hand wins, I’ll finish all the reports and paperwork you need to do for any 501st related repairs while we’re on this leave.” Ok, this got you excited but not in the core warming way his previous suggestion did; that would be a big relief on your workload. And hey, his hand has been terrible all night, luck seems to be in your favor.

“All right, you’re on.” You smirk and he flashes that devilish grin at you.

You win the first round easily; Fives was being very conservative with his hand and didn’t seem to want to play too many cards. He either has nothing in his deck, or he’s really holding out for something big.

The second round lasts a few minutes longer, but you overdraw your cards and Fives wins which meant the match was tied before the 3rd and final round. Fives teasingly stretches his arms over his head, making you roll your eyes at him.

The third round goes on the longest; you had used up most of your set deck already so you were being careful to not overdraw again, but you play your last card. You didn’t reach the 20 total needed to win, but being at 19 you felt confident in your choice. Fives drew another card from the deck, that pushes his total to 22. If you finished the round with a number over 20, that meant you lost so you begin to shift back in your seat and put your feet up on the table.

“Sorry, Fives, better luck ne-,” you start but he cuts you off, wagging a finger in your direction. He places his last card on the table: a -2. Making his total 20, and him the winner. You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief as the clone copied your victorious pose – stretching back with his arms behind his head and his feet coming to rest on the table as those amber eyes locked with yours.

***

“OK Listen, I was being a little shit. I had a terrible hand; I didn’t think I would actually win. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You brought Fives back to your workshop in the base – the best place you could think of for some privacy. It was late so all the other mechanics should have left already. It was small, but there was enough space for a worktable and the small bench that you and Fives are sitting at. His voice was soft; you knew he could be a bit of an ass, but you knew he was being honest and the last thing he would want to do was make you uncomfortable.

“Nope, I don’t back out of a deal.” You smirk at him and his edge seemed to come back once he accepted that you were ok with this. Your hand rests on his armored thigh and slowly makes its way up to his codpiece. “Besides, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit curious about what you’ve got going on under all the armor.”

A devilish grin grows on his face as his own hand meets yours. He fiddles with the straps on his codpiece and pulls It away, revealing an already sizeable bulge in his blacks. He pulls your hand onto him and holds it there. You feel your core flutter as he hardens in your hand.

“Well, I’m more than happy to show off for you, baby,” His voice is lower and has a raspy edge to it. You push his hand aside and slowly undo his pants, releasing his cock. You slowly grasp your hand around the base of him, and you can’t help but lick your lips looking at it. His tan cock is thick and long, and already swollen at your light touch. His breath is low at your touch, he places a hand on your shoulder, wordlessly begging you to move.

You take your hand away for a second to lick it and you firmly hold him again. You slowly began to stroke up and down, feeling his velvety soft skin in your hand. You flick your thumb over his head, smearing a bit of the precum that was already leaking from it. You can’t help but want to taste him. You increase your pace and Fives’s grip on your shoulder tightens, his breath increasing. You look at his face, he smiles back at you, his pupils blown out and filled with lust.

“I had a hunch you would be good with your hands.” He breathed out, trying to hold onto his composure. You wanted to wreck that pretty face. As you continue working his cock up and down in your hand, he sighs out and bends his head backward, hitting the wall. You take this pause in attention to bend your head down and start licking the head of his cock.

“Fuck!” he cursed out, sighing your name. You slowly move off the bench to kneel in front of him. You continue to jerk him and lick a long strip up the underside of his cock. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Oh well, if you’re not happy with it I can always stop,” you tease and his eyes darken with hunger. He responds by placing a hand on the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“I’m more than happy sweetheart. I’ve been thinking about what those pretty lips would look like wrapped around my cock for ages.” He gently guides your head back to him, and you open up wide to take more of him in.

You start slowly, he’s so thick it’s hard to fit him all in. You press your tongue underneath his hard cock as you slowly bob up and down on him, using your hand to help jerk the rest of him. Once you adjust, you push him further into your mouth until you feel him hitting your throat. His hips thrust up, trying to feel more of you and his hand presses your head closer into him. You feel your gag reflex kicking in as he releases you, gasping for air as you come up.

“Was that, ok?” Fives asks, and once you smile and assure him it is, he grasps your hair again. “I want to fuck your pretty mouth; can I do that sweetheart?”

“Yes, use me” you gasp, and he doesn’t waste a second. He slides himself back into your mouth and begins thrusting himself while holding your head in place, hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. You’re so turned on by this, having this strong man use you to chase his pleasure. You reach one of your hands in between your legs, rubbing your clit over your jumpsuit, just trying to appease your needs with any form of friction. Fives notices and groans.

“Is this turning you on? Me choking you with my dick?” He grunts while thrusting into you. You hum in agreement, the vibration giving him more pleasure. His head knocks back against the wall, beads of sweat appearing at his forehead. He’s close. “Fuck, I’m gonna come down that pretty throat of yours. Then, I’m gonna eat that pretty pussy of yours, you like the sound of that?”

You moan and look up at him, pulling your head away from his grasp. He looks wrecked, ready to cum and he’s about to push your head back down when you say, “Let me finish you off.”

His hand is still on your head but not pulling you down anymore. His cock is coated with your saliva, and you jerk him rapidly again then take him back into your hollowed out mouth, You use both of your hands, twisting as you jerk him and suck on his head. He starts gasping your name, warning you he’s about to come. You slide him completely into your mouth, where his tip is partially down your throat as you feel his cock twitch in your mouth and taste his thick, salty cum spurt in your mouth. He holds you down while he thrusts out his orgasm. You swallow as he’s already pulling you up off the ground into his lap and crushes your lips with a kiss.

“You’re wearing too much.” His voice is raspy from his release, but he’s focused on fulfilling his earlier promise to you. His hand finds the zipper at the front of your jumpsuit, and he tugs it down to your waist, his lips never leaving yours. He roughly pulls down the shoulders, leaving you in just your bra from the waist up. He moves his kisses down to your neck, and he sucks a love bite right where the collar line of your suit would have been.

You feel like putty in his strong hands, moaning at even his softest touches. He grabs one of your breasts over your bra, his thumb rubbing where your nipples are peaking through. He uses his free hand to reach around you and effortlessly undoes the clasp on your bra. He leans back to stare at your exposed chest, eyes glancing over every inch of you and back up to meet you own. You feel yourself blush, but you’re hungry for more. You lean back in to kiss him more, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. He wraps your legs around his waist and slowly rises. He carries you over to your worktable, where he uses his arms to clear off the paperwork and tools that had been sitting there.

“Sorry if any of that was important,” He mumbles into your mouth. He places you at the edge of the table and makes quick work of removing the rest of your jumpsuit, leaving you in just your panties before him. He gently pushes you backward onto the table, kissing along your neck and sucking at each nipple before he moves his way down your body.

Your breath hitches as he reaches your hips, leaving another love bite as he gets there. His hands spread your legs open for him, propped against the edge of the table. His kisses trail over your panties and you can feel his breath on your clothed entrance. He lets out a dark chuckle.

“So wet, and I’ve barely even touched you. Someone’s needy.” He places a kiss right over your clit and you feel like you’re ready to lose any control you had over your urges. His fingers reach around the waistband of your panties as he slides them down your legs. He spreads your legs again, lifting one to rest on his should as he caresses and kiss it; his goatee offering a ticklish yet pleasurable sensation. He takes his time teasing you, kissing and licking around your joints and hip bones, his calloused hands squeezing your thighs. You begin to whimper under his touch, trying to rotate your hips so he’ll pay attention to the one area he’s ignored.

“Need something, mesh’la?” He grins up at you.

“Dammit Fives, touch me!”

“I already am, you need to be more specific than that. And maybe try asking nicer?” That little shit.

“Please, Fives. Your mouth. I need it. On me. Please.” You prop yourself on your elbows to look at him. God, you want to wipe that cocky grin off his face, but you need him too much to fight him right now.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” And he dives right in.

His tongue licks a stripe up your slit and you can’t hold your moan in. He uses his fingers to open up your folds as his tongue finds your clit. He flicks it expertly, keeping his eyes one you as you began to fall apart under his mouth. He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks gently at first, reading your reactions. He switches up between sucking and licking, swirling his tongue, and lightly grazing his teeth around your sensitive bud, causing you to cry out in pleasure. He’s too good at this, damn him for being so good at this. You have too much pent-up attraction in your system, too much of a need for him, you’re going to come soon.

You can’t prop yourself up anymore, and you fall back onto the table. Your hands search for anything to grab onto, to ground yourself in the moment. His tongue continues its onslaught against your clit, Fives is using one of his hands to press your hip down, preventing you from moving too much. Just when you think you can’t be more overwhelmed, you feel one of his thick fingers pressing into your entrance. You moan and clench around him, but he can tell you want more so he slips a second finger in. He slows his tongue to match the speed of his fingers dragging in and out of you, only to increase his pace as your body welcomes him in.

“So tight around my fingers, baby. Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” Your moans start to pitch higher and higher, your release imminent. He can tell you’re almost there, his fingers press even deeper into you and curve slightly, finding that spongy spot inside of you. You cry out louder.

“Yes, please Fives! Right there!”

He doesn’t relent his pace with his fingers as his mouth latches to suck around your clit. You can’t string two thoughts together; all you can focus on is the electricity pulsing through your body. All you can hear are your moans and the filthy noise from his fingers and mouth pleasuring your pussy. Your legs are quaking around his head, your hips fighting to leave the table but being held into place by your source of pleasure. You’re able to glance down at Fives and the lustful but focused look in his golden eyes is enough to push you over the edge. Your eyes roll back as your orgasm hits you like a speeder. His fingers work you through it as your pussy flutters around him, and his tongue laps up your release. Once your breathing settles, he pulls his fingers from you and makes eye contact as he sucks them clean.

“You’re even sweeter than I imagined.” You’re still sprawled on the table as he stands up and removes the top of his blacks. You’re in recovery from your release, but you feel yourself clench as you look over his sculpted, tan body. You almost moan when you notice his cock, still free from your earlier work is now hard again as he removes what was left of his armor. He notices the hungry look on your face. “Bet I can get you to come again, this time on my cock.”

Your energy perks up and you’re able to lift yourself up again, and you teasingly wave your hips at him, showing off your entrance, still glistening from your orgasm. One of his hands grabs your hip to steady you, while the other strokes his cock and lines it up against your entrance. He slides it up and down your slit, whacking it against your sensitive clit. You shake in his grip and his eyes gleam as he slowly presses into you.

You’re still wet from your release and his fingers had worked you up, but you still have a hard time accepting his thickness. You feel him splitting you open, but the slight edge of pain is overpowered by the pleasure. Fives bottoms out in you and pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to him. You had never been so full and the sensation is almost too much. Your arms lift and grasp onto his biceps, needing to hold onto him for proof this wasn’t some dream.

One of his hands reaches behind you to the small of your back to keep you propped up. His other is gripping your hip, grounding himself as he’s ready to take what he wants. But he has to briefly control himself. He bends down, kissing you on your forehead.

“You feel so good, I won’t be able to last long. Are you ready?” He asks as his kisses trail down to your mouth. You deepen the kiss, gathering his bottom lip in your mouth and lightly bite on it making him groan.

“Fuck me, Fives. I’m off tomorrow, so I don’t need to walk.” You whisper and that’s all he needs.

He pulls himself out and then thrusts all the way back in, hitting your deepest spot. You barely reacted when he’s already moving again, unrelenting in his pace as he aims for that pleasure spot with every single thrust. He holds you against him, smacking your hips into his. Your nails digging deeper into his arm, and you’re turned on at the thought of him secretly walking around tomorrow with your marks on him. His pace is harder than it is quick, and you feel him drag in your pussy with every movement, almost as if you can feel every vein and ridge on his cock. Your pussy is holding him in a vice like grip, and as your legs wrap around his waist he groans as he feels you move around him.

Your head starts to roll back, and his hand that was on your back moves to the back of your neck to hold you in place, making you keep eye contact locked with him. He’s in complete control of your body, his strong arms able to hold you and fuck you like a rag doll. The tension starts to build in your body again, building to another peak.

Fives pulls out and you whine from the loss of him, but then he flips you onto your stomach, your ass up and legs dangling off the table. He uses his legs to spread yours further apart as he bends over, licking a line up your spine. He bites at the back of your neck, grabs a fistful of your hair to angle your face with his as he kisses you. He slams his cock back into you and you cry out; you won’t have a voice tomorrow.

“I’m close, can I come inside this pretty pussy?” he pants into your ear as he slowly drags his cock in and out of you. You were on birth control, so you knew you would be fine.

“Yes, please, fill me up Fives!” you gasp, grinding your ass back into him to meet his movements. He kisses you again then slides his hand back to your hips and begins a brutal pace.

If you thought you hadn’t been filled before, this angle makes you feel him in places you didn’t think were possible. His body pushing into you more and more with each thrust, you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips from his hands and marks on your legs from the edge of the desk. You start to lift yourself, but he uses on hand on your back to press you back down, your cheek turned to the side pressed against the surface so you’re able to see him ravish you from the corner of your eye.

He’s hitting your deepest spot with every thrust, quickly propelling you closer and closer to your second orgasm. Your body is wrecked as he fucks into you. Your vision is blurry, you can’t focus on anything, and your head is filled with your combined moans and the sinfully delightful slap of his hips against your ass and his dick in your pussy. You won’t be able to focus on any of your next projects when you’re on your next shift, all you’ll be able to think of is how this Arc Trooper bent you over your desk and fucked you into another galaxy. Your whole body begins to tense, and you feel a euphoric sensation take over your body. You were already on your way to the strongest orgasm you ever had, when his hand reached around for your clit and his calloused finger pads start rubbing it. You’re pushed past the point of no return.

You scream out but you can’t hear it, you see white and the only thing grounding you to the planet is the sensation of him fucking you through your climax. You call out his name countless times as he fucks you through it, your pussy squeezing him to the point where he can’t hold on any longer and, with a cry of your name, he fills you with hot streams of cum.

He collapses onto you, both of you breathing together and still joined. Slowly he gets up and pulls himself out of you. You nearly roll off the table, but he catches you and picks you up just to bring you down to the floor with him. He holds you in his arms there, allowing you to catch your breath. His golden eyes don’t leave your face as he brushes tears you don’t even realize you had shed off your cheeks. He smiles at you and his eyes twinkle as he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“I’m glad I lost that bet,” you joke, making him laugh and bend down for another kiss.

#this is my first attempt at fanfiction so any thoughts are appreciated #clone wars smut #arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives #fives #fives x reader #fives x you #clone wars reader insert #clone wars fanfiction #fanfiction #star wars smut #star wars #the clone wars smut #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars reader insert #clone trooper x reader

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amxranthiine · 3 years

Text

kalon

(n.) the kind of beauty that is more than skin deep.

request: Can I ask for platonic Thranduil with sister in law reader, reader is Legola's aunt and she saved Legolas' mother from dying but ended up paralyzed from waist down, needing to be on a wheelchair (let's pretend they have wheelchairs), and Thranduil is very grateful and helps reader a lot with things?

pronouns: she/her

a/n: like six months late but ITS FINE

warnings: ANGST n fluff. mentions of death and orc attacks. nightmares.

---

“Nana? Nana! Wake up, nana, please! You have to wake up!” A little Legolas screams as he watches his mother and aunt’s bodies be carried in by his father’s guard. His mother was pale and lifeless - cold hands and dark eyes, staring back into his own blue orbs as he shook her body. Though, he felt no love from her stare. Nothing about her was the same, her soul had already been lifted from her fragile body.

Next to her lay his aunt, Y/n, his mother’s sister. She was alive but unresponsive, blood was leaving her body faster and faster each second, pooling beneath her like a crimson ball gown. From behind Legolas, his father, Thranduil, was quickly approaching the scene. Loud orders from him to his guards could likely be heard throughout the palace. One would be a fool to miss the fear, desperation and anger laced in his voice.

Y/n stirred from the commotion, her eyes burning and her body flaring in pain as she tried to become responsive once again. She could feel every centimeter of her wound, the sword that stabbed her was likely poisoned - and it embedded it’s way into her spinal cord. She could feel her life force being drained, the light becoming far too close for her liking. Even if she lived, she knew nothing would be the same - with her body and with her family. She had been too late to save her dearest sister, and that thought alone was almost enough to make her give up. However, her little sister left her a nephew and a brother, both of which would need guidance recovering from her sister’s death.

“My King Thranduil -” Started the Captain, though he was soon hushed by the horrified Elf. Thranduil was terribly shaken up, his hair was messy and his robes wrinkled, likely from the speed at which he was running.

Thranduil looked at his beloved Wife and sister in law, and he felt his blood run cold. There was - there was so much blood. His wife was nearly blue and unconscious, was she... No, he wasn’t think like that. He looked over to Y/n, where she was struggling to open her eyes, and groaning from the giant hole in her back. He could feel the tears in his eyes, and he knew deep down that his son no longer had a mother.

Y/n heard her brother in law approaching, and even though she was on the verge of death, she felt as though she had to be the one to break the news. “Thranduil?” She croaked, her throat dry and her lips cracked.

The King rushed to her, grabbing a waterskin in the process and lifting it to her lips. She coughed as she drank down as much as she could. “Y/n...”

She ignored the burning in her eyes and looked up at him, and suddenly, she wanted to cry. She didn’t have that much time left, and she had so much to say. Y/n attempted to take a deep breath, then said her last words.

“I’m so sorry, Thranduil. I - I couldn’t save her - I tried so, so - hard. Please, tell Lego - Legolas we loved him.” She used the last of her energy to say those words, and soon, her eyes slipped shut.

“No! Y/n! You can’t leave me! You can’t leave us! Legolas will need guidance. I will need guidance! Legolas just lost his mother, he can’t lose you too!”

The weight of losing both the love of his life and his sister crashed down on him, and he fell to the ground with a heartbroken scream. A tiny body forced itself into his lap as his son wept along with him, not knowing if he’d ever see his mother or aunt again. Thranduil’s arms wrapped themselves around Legolas as he rocked back and forth on the floor, weeping and crying out to the Valar, cursing them and asking to spare them.

Thranduil gasped for breath as he jumped awake, beads of sweat rolled down his face as he regained consciousness, the nightmare - no - memory he had tried so hard to forget was now engraved into his head once again. He felt the urge to go check on his, now paralyzed, sister in law. Her wounds from that awful day were fatal, but somehow she pushed through the worst of it.

Though, not without consequence. Apparently the blade had all but destroyed her spinal cord, and because of it she was paralyzed from the waist down. The healers told him that it was a miracle she was still alive.

He got out of bed and put on a velvet robe, ignoring the chill in his bones from the cold air. He quietly tiptoed to her room, trying to ignore the feeling of dread, likely the product of his nightmarish memory.

Soon enough, as it was right down the hall, he arrived at his sister's chambers and, as quietly as he could, opened the door. His heart dropped when he saw that she wasn't there, and her wheelchair was nowhere to be found.

Thranduil panicked, his mind buzzing for any clue as to where she could be. The kitchens? No, she has trouble reaching the cabinets, and the accident made it even harder for her to see. Legolas' chambers? Hard no. She could be quite clumsy and can't be quiet to save her life. Literally.

He was starting to panic. What if she was kidnapped? His dearest sister in law, kidnapped by the very creatures who paralyzed her in the first place? It seemed realistic. At least, it did to Thranduil - who was losing his mind from worry. Though the only way they could get into the palace was through the-

Of course! The Royal Gardens!

In his state of worry, Thranduil had conpletely forgotten that Y/n liked to go to the gardens when she was having a hard time, because it was one of the only places that reminded her of her sister, the place where they had the most memories.

He took off towards the Gardens, not really caring about it being in the middle of the night as Elves were light on their feet anyway. In moments he was standing before her, nodding at the guards who took place at the Garden entrance.

Y/n was laying on the grass, her wheelchair was forgotten next to her, and she was playing with an orchid she had plucked, twirling it between her fingers carefully. Thranduil's heart throbbed as he realized that orchids were his wife's favorite flower, and that Y/n was missing her as much as he did. If not more, the sisterly bond between them was something he had never seen before.

He cleared his throat, alerting the woman if his presence. Her head turned slightly to the left as a way to acknowledge him.

"You scared me, Y/n. I couldn't find you, so I assumed the worst." He muttered quietly and sat down next to her.

She chuckled, "You've known me for how long and you still don't know that I tend to... gravitate here?"

The King sighed, he had always known that she used jokes as a coping mechanism, a way to escape her reality. "Yes, yes, I know. I just... I was worried," He frowned, taking the delicate flower from between her fingers. She paused, and he could practically see the gears grinding in her head out of his peripheral vision.

"You're having nightmares again, aren't you?" She asked, and he could feel her eyes burn into his head.

"They aren't just nightmares, Y/n," He twirled the flower absentmindedly, "they're memories."

This time, it was her who sighed, "Of that day?" She questioned, already knowing the answer, but his nod only confirmed it.

"I miss her," Y/n said, looking up at the night sky. Thranduil went to say something, but she held one finger up. "Let me finish. Sometimes I wish it were me who died, instead of her. She had you and Legolas to come home to, and I didn't really have anyone. Yes, I had family here, you and my nephew for example, but my sister was your wife and his mother, and the queen for crying out loud. Why am I saying this? I honestly have no clue. I suppose my point is... After the accident, I was overwhelmed in guilt and sadness. I didn't really focus on the fact that I was alive because of you. You and Legolas have taken care of me since day one and I can't remember if I've thanked you for that. So... Thank you. For helping heal my mind, and my body, even if their isn't much left of it. I am eternally grateful for you, brother."

Thranduil stared at her, and Y/n sniffled. At some point along the way she had started crying, and he felt like he was going to as well. He pulled his sister into his arms and held her tight as she cried, holding onto one of the last pieces of family he had left with an iron grip.

"You do not have to thank me, sister. You are family and you will be treated as such, even during hardships such as that one. If anything, I should thank you for being there for both Legolas and I while we were grieving, even if you weren't in the best state yourself."

Y/n giggled, much to Thranduil's delight. The sound had pulled a small smile onto his face and they both relished in the quiet for a moment.

Finally, Y/n pulled away, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Alright, my King, help me up."

Thranduil laughed, a very merry sound, and helped her into her wheelchair. "As you wish, my Lady."

259 notes · View notes

spicykitteh · 3 years

Text

Chill

Photo credit: Evgeny Karandaev

Pairing: Jean Kirschtein x fem!Reader, Sasha x Connie

Rating: 18+ NSFW, MDNI!

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes: Modern college AU, characters are aged up to early 20s, established relationship.

CW: Ice play, slightly rough sex -- more vigorous than rough, hint of edging, switch Jeanbo

Summary: On the hottest day of the year, Jean and his girlfriend try to find a way to cool off.

Jean sighed heavily as he punched the disconnect bubble on his phone. “Looks like we’re going to be sweating this weekend.”

“Are you kidding me? We pay this landlord a fortune every month and he can’t even bother to get over here and fix the air conditioner on the hottest week this year?!” YN plopped down on the threadbare brown sofa.

Jean had mentioned last week he had a bad feeling about the rattling the window unit had been making, shaking itself hard enough to sprinkle yellowed plastic shards and dust on the floor underneath it. This morning as the temperature climbed it seized with a deafening shriek. The four roommates tried poking and prodding at the thing though they all knew they had not a shred of mechanical aptitude. Jean spent nearly an hour arguing with the landlord but in this heatwave every repair service in town was booked completely.

“I guess the good news is Mr. Bozado said he wouldn’t charge us for the repair,” Jean offered weakly as he gulped lemonade. He swiped a hand across the sweat beading on his forehead.

“He better fuckin’ not,” Connie growled from the floor where he was sprawled out fanning himself with a hastily folded paper fan. “We didn’t break that junky thing, it was already half gone when we moved in.”

“I’m going to take a nap in the basement, it’s at least a little cooler down there,” Sasha said as she started opening windows for a cross breeze on her way to the basement steps. Connie tossed his makeshift fan on the coffee table and stomped heavily down the stairs in her wake.

YN glanced over to Jean who was draining the last of his now watery lemonade from the glass. “My room in the attic is way too hot. Is it ok if I stay in your room this weekend?”

Jean smiled over the rim of the glass and his honey eyes sparkled. “Sunshine, I don’t remember the last time you slept up there on your own since we came back from the beach.”

“Well, ok, that’s fair,” YN conceded with a wave of her hand. “It’s not like you’d let me sleep alone anyway, Little Spoon.” He set the glass on the coffee table where condensation pooled around the base and soaked the cork coaster. His knee nudged into hers as he sat down next to her and kissed her temple, tasting the salty sweat trickling from her brow.

“Just admit you can’t keep your hands off me, babe.”

“I can’t,” she turned her head to meet his lips as he bent to kiss her again. “Right now, though, it’s too hot for that.”

Jean agreed, leaning forward to peel his sweat-drenched t-shirt off. “Damnit, it’s like a furnace in here.” He scooped up his empty glass and motioned to hers with it. “Do you want another glass of lemonade?”

“Sure,” she exhaled and leaned back into the sofa. Jean strode through the archway that separated the kitchen from the living room and scooped ice cubes from the container in the freezer. YN snatched Connie’s paper fan from the table as she watched Jean filling the glasses with ice and lemonade, admiring his bare torso and amused by the way his lips curled into a wicked grin and his eyes flicked over to her, roaming shamelessly over her body. He chugged his glass until it was empty, then filled it again with only ice. He brought her cup to her and grasped her hand to pull her up from the sofa.

“I have an idea, c’mere,” he squeezed her hand as he led her to his bedroom and shut the door behind them. “It’s a few degrees cooler here since it’s on the north side of the house. Besides that, I thought you might like to get out of those clothes and try something with me.” He took her glass and set it on the nightstand next to his.

“Mmm, what have you got planned for me?” she smiled as she slipped out of her cotton t-shirt and denim cutoffs, revealing the black lace bra and panties underneath. He flashed that damned adorable crooked grin as she unclasped his belt and let it dangle to focus on unbuttoning his jeans, the soft blue denim whispering through her fingers and dropping to the floor. Despite the stifling heat in the room her core felt hotter when she palmed his hardness through his boxers. He laced his fingers into the soft strands of her hair and tilted her head back to press his soft lips to hers, sucking gently on her bottom lip, her jawline, her earlobe.

“You’re a bit overdressed for what I have in mind, madame.” He hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them down her thighs. She shimmied out of the material and Jean swept her into his arms and lowered her onto the bed. His touch on her skin was like fire rushing through her veins that the breeze from the ceiling fan did little to cool off. He strode over to the window, propped it open and flicked on the small fan on his nightstand. His long fingers reached into his glass and deftly plucked out an ice cube. “Can I try cooling you down?”

She nodded and he stretched out beside her, nibbling at her flushed skin, letting the ice cube melting rapidly in his palm drip down the delicate skin of her throat, onto her collarbone, pooling in the valley between her breasts. His tongue chased the droplets, leaving a trail of goosebumps raised on her flesh and confusing her nervous system with the alternating chill of icy water and the heat of Jean’s mouth dragging against her skin. She arched her back against him, crying out when his chilled fingers slipped underneath her to unhook her bra and felt a light nip against her shoulder as he dragged the strap down her arm with his teeth. She shivered as his soft lips pressed kisses into the curve of her breast, her nipple brushing against the scruff of his jawline. He licked over the pink peak, sighing as he enveloped it with his lips and suckled hungrily.

YN’s fingers threaded through his strands, pulled him closer as she thrust her hips into him. His cock had already breached the fly of his boxers and pressed against her bare leg, the heat of him like a brand against her thigh. She traced a finger up the length of his shaft, her fingertip circling his sensitive tip and tracing over his slit. An airy moan broke the seal of his lips around her nipple.

“Oh fuck, honey,” was all Jean could manage between pants, mouth open, jaw jutting forward. His weakness ignited a primal urge in her to pounce on him, and she did. He easily rolled to his back with the press of her hand against his chest, watching her through heavily lidded eyes.

“Aren’t you hot with so much clothing on, baby?” she smirked and teased her forefinger under his waistband. He quickly discarded his boxers over the side of the bed. ��That’s better. My turn now.”

She scooped an ice cube from his glass, tilting her head back but maintaining eye contact with him as she dropped the ice into her mouth, allowing the melt to trickle down her parched throat. She leaned over and kissed his neck lightly, then parted her lips just enough to blow chilled air over the sensitive skin behind his ear. Jean closed his eyes and sucked in a sharp, quavering gasp. “God, that feels good.”

She continued her trail of kisses down his throat, pausing to lick at the hollow just above the center of his collarbone and relishing in the salty tang of his skin. She pushed what remained of the ice cube along with her tongue until it had melted into a small pool on his chest. With one finger she pushed the droplets over his burning skin to scrawl in lazy arcs, her art punctuated with a kiss to his nipple. A whispery breeze through the window sighed in tandem with Jean, followed by the low rumble of thunder somewhere in the distance. YN pursed her lips and blew lightly across the pooling liquid, fascinated with the way his skin responded in goosebumps and how he gasped at the temperature change. She continued mapping every inch of him, the ridges and valleys of his abdomen, his sensitive navel, the smooth valley where his hip joined his pelvis so tantalizingly close to his tower of a cock.

“Please,’ he panted, “baby, I can’t take any more teasing, please!”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please, please fuck me,” he tossed his head side to side on the pillow, his soft hair damp with sweat now mussed and sticking up at wild angles.

“You started this game, are you giving in so soon?” she sat back in amusement, enjoying how worked up Jean was for her.

“You’re driving me wild, babe, I need you,” he huffed impatiently.

She grinned and dropped to all fours, straddling his thighs and grazing her nipples up his torso until she was face to face with him. “Then come get me.”

Jean lost no time bucking up into her at a frenzied pace, his hands grasping desperately for her bouncing tits, her waist, her hips rocking in rhythm with his.

“Jean! Jean! Oh fuck baby,” she cried out with each powerful thrust of his hips.

He was too lost in his lust-clouded mind and could only respond with a whine, his long eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks. She was at his mercy now, hanging on helplessly to his shoulders while he fucked her through wave after wave of powerful orgasms until he came deep inside her with a roar. A peal of thunder rattled the pane in the open window, followed by the steady patter of raindrops subsiding into a gentle thunderstorm. A cool breeze, heavy with petrichor, billowed through the curtains, much to the relief of the sweltering lovers.

Jean pulled her to his chest, tenderly rubbing her hips that were bound to be bruised under his desperate grip. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, babe.” She snuggled into his arms with a satisfied sigh.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” she giggled, “more than ok.”

The rain pattered steadily outside, answered occasionally by a soft murmur of thunder. The heat from earlier in the day finally subsided into a cool summer evening, perfect for sleeping through the night in each other’s arms.

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirstein smut

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