#and moby slipped out the door behind me

[mamamittens]

Fireworks Encore (+18, AFAB)

Sequel to Fireworks

G/N version

Ace/Reader (AFAB)

Warnings: Slow sex, unprotected sex, fingering, foreplay, unconventional massage, creampie, cockwarming, and tired aftercare.

Might make a lightly edited AMAB version later but I gotta go to bed for work lol

Word Count: 1,783

You were wound up tight. Muscles tense and aching for relief from the rough past few days. Harsh conditions necessitating your help all around the ship until the navigators could get the Moby Dick out of the apparently tumultuous area. You’d nearly fallen overboard several times, slamming into damaged railing instead. So you were also bruised to hell and back.

But. You were all out of the rough patch of sea, everyone shoveling food from their plates before shuffling off to bed. And you planned on sleeping until you didn’t feel like shit. The food about as tasteful to your worn senses as stale water.

You stood up shakily, taking care of your plate before shuffling down the halls for a well-earned rest. You almost didn’t hear Ace coming up behind you.

“Oh, babe, you look rough.” Ace cooed, gently steering you down another hall towards his room. You blearily looked at him in confusion, nearly moaning as his natural warmth soaked into your worn body. His expression was soft as he kissed your cheek. “I wouldn’t keep you up for nothing, baby. I just thought you’d more than earned some lovin’.”

Ace opened his door and ushered you in before closing and locking the door behind him. Candles lighting instantly in the darkness until the room was covered in flickering shadows. You swayed, really wanting to collapse into the bed already, but you wanted to see what he had planned. You knew that if you did fall asleep right now, Ace would leave you alone. Your body aching to pass out already—his warm hands settled on the sides of your ribcage, your weight falling back against him easily. Palms cupping your breasts sensually.

Soft kisses settled over your neck and shoulders.

“You don’t have to… I know you’ve been up as long as I have…” You sleepily murmured against his hair. His teeth flashed against your delicate skin as he smiled wide.

“How could I sleep knowing my sweet, loving, baby is in such rough shape?” Ace asked softly, hands sliding down to the hem of your shirt before slowly lifting it up. Peeling it off like he thought it would hurt to go any faster, fingertips grazing over your skin leaving trails of heat. Ace pulled away from your aching shoulders only long enough to toss your shirt to the side. Bra following quickly with a kiss over where the straps marked your skin.

His hands hovered over your exposed chest radiating heat, skimming your body with every deep inhale as you moaned. Your aches soothed with every pass as he started stroking your chest and hips. Pausing to tease your breasts between hot fingertips when he felt you grew too quiet. Soft, wet kisses running across your strained shoulders. With every pass of his lips and hands, you relaxed just a little bit more.

Ace hummed, slipping his fingers between your hips and pants, slowly forcing them down until they pooled at your feet. Hands steadying you as you kicked off your shoes and stumbled forward onto the bed. Ace chuckled, lifting you higher up the bed until only your shins and feet hung off the end. Licking down your tense back as you moaned into the blankets.

His hands grew more firm, kneading your muscles like he intended on gently fondling your bones with his hot fingertips. Rubbing circles down your shoulder blades and spine. Across the trembling expanse of your ribs and the soft area above your hips. Teasing the soft underside of your breasts as he slid his hands underneath to cup them in his palms. Massaging them with a pleased groan. The bed creaked as he kneeled above your thighs, the room growing hazy and warm.

You started to drift then, not quite sleeping as you kept moaning and gently squirming under Ace’s attentive touch.

“You make such cute sounds for me, baby.” Ace whispered as he pressed his lips above the dip of your spine. Kissing softly as he fondled your ass in his hot palms.

Ace spread them apart with his thumbs as his body heat slid down further, his breath hot between your cheeks as he chuckled. He blew a teasing breath over your burning, wet pussy and your thighs clenched, Ace laughing softly as he pulled back.

“What does my hard-working baby need?” Ace asked huskily. “Hands or…?”

You couldn’t hold back the low keen as you weakly lifted up your hips.

“Anything~” You murmured into the blanket, grasping it in your hands as you shifted restlessly despite your exhaustion. Your thighs wet from his loving attention.

Ace chuckled low in his throat, slowly leaning on top of you, his naked body like a hot compress to your aching muscles.

“With. Pleasure.” Ace rumbled into your ear, a soft click echoing in the space before a slick, hot hand slid between your thighs. You panted, moaning as his warm fingers teased your aching cunt. Slipping in to work you open. You could feel his cock burning against your thigh as he licked at your neck, nipping the skin until you turned your head towards him.

Ace kissed you eagerly, tongue a slow slide over your lips as he messily pushed deeper into your cunt. Eating up your keening moan as you melted beneath him. Aching muscles trembling as he crooked his fingers and spread them apart in your walls. His other hand slid underneath you and teased your throbbing clit. Circling and pinching it as you cried out. Rubbing into your arousal that soaked the bed and his hands.

You came with a soft whine around his tongue, drenching his awaiting hands as he kept going. Faster. Harder. Intent on making you completely boneless underneath him.

You tried moaning his name, but found it hard with his lips and tongue still on yours. Breathing hot and heavy as your worn body tensed with a mix of pain and pleasure.

Just as you were about to cum again, Ace pulled away. Lips pecking your cheek as he grabbed your hips and tilted your ass up, lining his cock between your thighs.

You moaned, low and loud as he slid into your pussy slowly. Cock hot and thick enough to make you ache in a new way, your thighs trembling as he pulled back. Ass following the motion from how tightly you fit together until he squeezed your hips, pinning you in place to nearly pop out from your cunt. Thick head just barely in place as he panted.

“Relax. Let me do all the work, baby.” Ace whispered against your lips, eyes like hot iron in the soft darkness of his room. You let go of all the tension in your body, trusting him to keep you in place completely. “F-fuuuck just like that, baby~ mmnh~!” Ace whined before slowly slotting his hips against your ass, filling your cunt up again.

Slowly pulling his hot cock from your cunt only to give it all back again as you whimpered and moaned.

“Been dreaming of this pussy for days.”

“So sweet to me when I don’t deserve it~ haaahnn~!”

“Pussy so perfect and relaxed on my cock… yeah, you’ve earned this. Just take it~”

“Let me see how good it feels, you’re moaning so sweetly I could do this for hours~ you want that? Fucked underneath me for hours~?”

Ace babbled between open kisses as you whined, tension seeping from your body as you grew hot and weak underneath him. He never faltered or slowed in his pace. Cock unrelentingly rocking into your pussy as sweat beaded between your bodies.

Your orgasm crested slowly, winding up your aching muscles and tensing in your chest before it burst. Cream squirting onto Ace’s thighs and cock from your quivering, overstimulated cunt. Leaving you to fall completely boneless in Ace’s hands as he kept going, rocking deeper into you with heavy pants.

“A-A-Aaaaace—ahn~! P-Please!” You whined weakly, swallowing hard as you grew dizzy between the heat and exhaustion.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?” Ace whispered hoarsely, moaning as your pussy quivered around him harshly.

“M-More~” You moaned. Ace’s teeth flashed, sharp in the low light as he hissed.

“Anything my baby asks for~” Ace licked into your panting lips as his wet hips slapped against the back of your thighs. Balls slapping against your soaked cunt. Going harder and faster, winding you up like the heat in your chest demanded.

Your breath came in sharp, rapid pants, keens breaking moans as the sound of wet sex grew louder. More frequent as Ace gave you exactly what you asked for.

“Ah-aah-hahhn~! Oh! Oh! A-A-Ace—ooohhhh~!” You trembled hard, Ace nipping your wet, abused lip with a snarl as his cock throbbed.

“Anything my baby deserves~” Ace hissed as you screamed hoarsely, body snapping into a tense arch underneath his assault as he slammed against your ass. Cock throbbing as his hot cum squirted out from your pussy and running down your thighs.

You keened, sobbing with pleasure as you shook violently. Ace’s body heating up against your back as he slowly laid down across your body. Hands rubbing your sides in gentle, soothing motions as he panted and praised you. His voice obscured by the harsh ringing in your ears. Rocking his hips slowly to ride out the last waves of your violent orgasm and his own.

“—beautiful. There we are, come back to me now, baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Ace whispered from behind you. You were laying on your side now, his cock still heavy inside your cunt as you caught your breath. “With me now, baby?” Ace kissed your shoulder.

“…mmmm-yeah.” You whispered sleepily, turning your head to kiss him. “…bed now?” You asked, thoroughly boneless against him.

Ace chuckled.

“Yeah, baby. Bed now.” Ace slowly pulled out until his cock slipped in the wet mess between your thighs. He got out, chuckling at your pathetic whine as he went to the bathroom. Returning only moments later with a hot rag.

Gently, he lifted your thigh up to clean up the mess. Kissing your now damp but clean skin lovingly. He glanced at your messy cunt with a faint, longing smile. Swiping the hot rag over your folds gently after a moment.

You moaned, aware of what he was thinking but too tired to pursue it.

Ace flashed his teeth in a smile.

“Later.” Ace promised, kissing your thigh again before sliding into bed next to you. Blanket pulled up to your shoulder as you cuddled up against his side.

You fell asleep quickly to the low sound of Ace praising you between soft kisses to your head.

#one piece #one piece smut #fire fist ace #ace smut #ace x reader

[fire-fist-ann]

I forgot to mention in my last request for nsfw 25 it would be Ace x f reader please but afab gnus also fine :) thank you again 🥺

Hey there anon! sorry for the long wait i hope it was worth it  

Y/n let out another sigh for what felt like the millionth time as she walked down the halls of the moby dick with a heavy frown crossing her features. She stopped in front of the second commander's room her foul mood growing worse. She grabbed the door handle stepping inside his room shutting the door behind her.

Pops had sent ace on a job a couple of weeks ago and he wasn't back yet. Y/n felt like she was going to go crazy at this point, it had been too long without him in her arms or being able to hear his laugh. it was far too quiet on the ship without ace around.

Y/n looked over ace's room before she took a seat on his bed with a heavy sigh before she laid down burying her face in his pillows inhaling the sweet scent of cinnamon and amber. she shut her eyes she could practically feel his arms around her right now. She moved her hand on the blanket touching something, she sat up and looked down.

Her eyes softened seeing the sun-colored shirt, she picked it up bringing it to her chest as a soft smile crossed her plump lips." typical he didn't put his clothes away" she mused out loud. Before the wheels in her brain started to turn, ace wasn't here, surely he wouldn't mind if she just tried it on?

y/n turned to look at the closed door before she slipped off her clothes sitting in her orange-colored underwear the ones she knew ace loved on her. Her nimble fingers pulled the yellow shirt on before buttoning it up. Y/n couldn't help but to laugh almost, it almost looked like a dress on her frame. Y/n gulped seeing the way it fit was starting to make her feel a little bit hot 

y/n laid down on her side shutting her eyes as she moved her hand grasping her breast through the fabric letting out a small gasp as her free hand ran up and down her body, picturing it was ace's much larger one. She sucked in a breath as she rubbed two of her fingers over her bright-colored underwear. "come on baby girl " were the words she pictured ringing in her ears. She moved her hand into her underwear rubbing messy circles on her soaked womanhood, letting out soft moans into the pillow

Y/n bit her lip as she gasped as she moved two of her petite fingers inside pumping them in and out of her "a-ace" she gasped out bucking her hips as she moved her thumb rubbing over the top of her clit as her fingers plunged into her wet heat, as she moved. she could never hit as deep or ace could she could feel the sweat running down her face as she tried to do what ace always did. Y/n let out low pants and moans, lost in her pleasure she didn't hear the door open

Ace stopped as he shut the door behind him spotting his girlfriend in his shirt with her fingers buried deep in her cunt, he swallowed thickly feeling himself start to get hot, and not from his devil fruit "oh did you miss me firefly?" ace asked walking in as he locked the door behind him

Y/n eyes snapped open as she turned her head so fast almost getting whiplash seeing ace standing there with a cocky grin across his freckled face "a-ace it, it isn't what it looks like" she squeaked out. Ace set his bag on the floor as he took a seat on one of the chairs in his room "don't stop now" he said as his eyes glanced all over them " Lay back and touch yourself, I want to watch"

y/n gasped hearing his words as she could feel the heat growing between her legs as she sat up facing the second division commander, her face bright red as she shyly looked up at ace who was leaning back his leg over his knee with that amused smile never leaving his face "O-okay I can't really say no if you ask me" she said softly 

Y/n moved her fingers opening up more of the shirt to give him a better view as she slipped her panties off onto the floor as she was bright red as she opened her legs up wider for him to see her glossy heat. She moved her hand up to her bra pulling it off, exposing her round breasts. She moved a finger pinching her nipple "a-ace" she gasped out as her other hand moved down rubbing over her clit as she stared him in the eyes before she plunged a finger in. 

Y/n threw her head back before she inserted another finger up to her knuckles as her chest heaved with her thighs shaking, as she moved her fingers in and out of her " you can go faster" ace cooed at her as he watched her before her thumb moved in a slow circle over the top as her brows furrowed speeding up making her yelp almost "c-commander" she cried out as her brain was starting to get hazy from the pleasure.  Having ace watch her touch herself was making her so hot "like this?" she asked 

Y/n lips quivered as she tried to keep her moans down but they only grew louder and louder the closer she was getting to the edge losing herself slowly as she slammed her fingers into her cunt, trying to ride her own fingers. The band in her stomach was starting to get more tighter as she ruthlessly speed up pushing a third finger in as she gasped and rolled her breast. "t-to much" she cried out 

Ace smiled "you're doing so good firefly" he praised her watching how her whole body was trembling from his praise alone, Tears were welling in her eyes from the pleasure. Before the knot in her stomach exploded as she came,  tears and makeup running down her face with her thighs covered in her juices . "welcome back home ace" she said between pants 

Ace stood up walking over brushing her tears away kissing her lips " you did so good firefly" he said with a smile " let me show you how much I missed you"

#Portgas D. Ace #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #ace one piece #one piece #one peice x reader #Whitebeard pirates #spade pirates #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader

[cyborg-franky]

Comission!

Thank you for commissioning me <3<3 @fire-fist-ann

Ace x OC SFW Word Count: 1,032

Alyona loved the sound of the rain outside, the way it patters against the deck, hitting the sails and rolling down the fabric. Standing out there, the wind in her hair, cold water kissing her skin as she stared across the ocean, feeling safe and fearless as she watched the waves slosh around, getting higher and swotting at the Moby.

At night it soothed Alyona, just hearing it against the porthole of the room, she focused on it, allowing it to rock her to sleep. Almost there Alyona thought as her eyes fluttered closed, a serene smile on her lips as her breathing slowed, sleep tugging at her, making her limbs heavy and her mind settle.

Well, Alyona had been this close to being swept off her feet by the sandman until there was a series of sharp rushed knocks at the door. Alyona groaned and sat up, the knocking grew in urgency making her feel panicked and rushed.

“Coming!” she yelled, annoyance sharp in the zoan’s tone as she slipped on the robe that had been hanging slung over her chair, hugging it close to her body, crossing the room, opening the door and seeing Ace.

He offered Alyona a sheepish smile, his hand still raised, ready to rap his knuckles against the wooden surface once more. She quirked a brow at the fire user, seeing how his hair was soaked, drips running down the limp strands of black. His freckled cheeks were damp from where he’d been outside.

“What the hell, Portgas?” Alyona used his other name, indicating she wasn’t exactly pleased he’d decided to come and punch her nice early night in the face.

“So, I was talking to Marco,” he started and gripped the doorframe, neither of them making a move to grant him entry to her room.

“He said my anxiety is because I have too much on my mind.” Alyona’s expression softened when Ace looked behind her, unable to bring himself to make eye contact with her, she could tell he was struggling with his emotions right now.

“So I told him everything, how I feel..”

“Feel about what?” Alyona asked knowing that could be a can of worms when it came to someone as troubled as Ace.

He let out a sigh, running a hand through wet hair, she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy how the raindrops slowly trickled from his hair, down his body. No shirt, rain or shine apparently Alyona thought as she watched the commander stand at the door.

“Ah, well,” he hummed and shifted on the spot, Alyona fixed him a look.

“You.” He cleared his throat

She stared at him for a while, blinking, she was taken aback, to say the least. She opened and closed her mouth, gripping the fabric of her robe she tugged it closer for comfort as a whirlwind of thoughts ran through her mind. He had feelings for her? That was great! She had been fighting her own ones for Ace for what felt like far too long.

Alyona wanted to play it a little cooler than Ace, knowing she had the upper hand right now but her heart had longed for him. She’d talked to Marco about it many times and the poor phoenix would still humour her despite the exasperated expression on his face as tired eyes blinked at her as she gushed, spilling her feelings daily to him in his office.

“Uh, you’ve been staring into space for a while..Aly?” he asked and waved a hand in front of her eyes, she focused on him and shook her head, trying to straighten her thoughts, bring him the answer he was clearly seeking

“And ah, what about feelings for me?” she asked, feeling so shy at this moment, not her usual boisterous and loud self.

“I think I love you and I’m scared because your my best friend and you work for me, if anything was to fuck that up.. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I lost what we already have.” He admitted dark eyes flicked up to meet green ones as she carried on blinking at him.

“Ace…”

“Hey, can I please come in? I don’t wanna feel like everyone has their ears pressed to their doors to hear my utter rejection, yeah?” he said and watched her step back, enough to let him in.

He mumbled his thanks, hearing her shut the door, she sat on her bed, hands between her legs, feeling her palms sweaty at his confession to her. She was so scared she was going to be hurt, it had taken her so long to trust anyone, to find her place in this wonderful family.

“You don’t have to like me back, I swear I won’t make it weird...” he said with a half-hearted chuckle, leaning on her desk.

She watched the puddle at Ace’s feet forming as the water that drenched the commander was dripping on her bedroom floor, Still battling the turmoil in her mind she jumped back up, grabbing a towel from her stack of clean laundry and threw it over his head. He made a noise when she started to towel dry his hair.

When he battled her attempts to try him, letting the towel fall around his shoulders he looked at her, pleading, needing the answers, he was pretty sure he was close to a breakdown as she left him dangling at the end of the line.

“Alyona?”

“Ace…”

It was all she could do before she realised, this was the moment, this was the perfect time to allow herself these feelings, she was safe and cared for. No one on this ship was going to let her get hurt. They were her family, and her friends and Ace were here for her, she could tell him, right?

She threw her arms around him and let out a sob, her emotions welling up inside as she nuzzled her cheek against his freckled one.

“I love you too Ace!” she felt strong arms around her waist, feeling his lips kiss her cheek as he let out a sigh, relief washing over him as they held one another.

#ace x oc #one piece own character #sfw

[sidetongue]

he’s a wet sock

#but also lowkey the love of my life #i went for a drive to get dinner tonight #and moby slipped out the door behind me #so i was like ok you can come #and usually the dogs ride in the boot as its big and spacious and waterproof #but i was like come on lad you can sit in the front next to me #and he sat up there so quietly #and watched out the window as we drove #i rolled down the windows and he just tossed his head back #wind in his ears and all #we were listening to the song 'judy you hung the moon' #and moby was so relaxed and carefree #and it completely washed away my harrowing worries from today #which was arguably the worst day of 2021 #but anyway we dont have to talk about that #because moby made it all better #and i am constantly indebted to this little wet sock for all he has given and continues to give #i love you moe #you incredibly stupid little muppet #moby #dogs

[seven-waters-hc]

Hi author san! Could I request HCs for Sanji, Killer and Ace who get get misunderstanding with their S/O and get jealous or angry but they realise the truth after and its a happy ending. Gosh I am a sucker for Angst with Happy endings.

Ofcourse please ignore it if you aren't comfortable writing this.

Of course! 💐

Killer and Ace Fighting and Forgiveness Headcannons

<Killer & Ace x GN!reader>

[I have a similar scenario for Sanji here :)]

๑Killer

After docking on an island to get the ship patched up, Killer told you he needed to go out for a bit and he would be back soon.

You waited on the ship doing miscellaneous tasks, eventually falling asleep when night came. When you woke up you had expected to feel Killer next to you, but all that was there was cold air.

You went around the ship asking Heat if he knew what Killer was up to. He didn’t have a clue, mentioning Kid was out too.

You get off to go look for the two; but after what must have been hours of searching you came back with nothing. You aimlessly walk around the small town, trying to think where they would be.

You give up and get back onto the ship to read and wait. The more hours that passed by had you more worried. You knew Killer was more than capable of protecting himself, but you couldn’t help but panic, thinking the worst had happened to your boyfriend.

Late into the night, you hear the bedroom door creak open, with Killer walking in silently. You glare at him before turning your back to him and blowing out the candle beside you.

He changes out of his clothes before crawling into the bed beside you. You scoot away from him and end up on the edge of the bed, frustrated at him for worrying you so badly.

You feel him pull you onto his chest, and you feel the vibrations of him talking when he starts trying to explain himself.

Someone had tipped off the marines, and he and Kid had ended up having to fight wave after wave of men. It was a piece of cake, according to Killer, but by the time they had finished fighting and the men had retreated it was already dark.

It had been Killer’s idea to just sleep in some nearby woods for the night so they wouldn’t have to try to figure their way back to the Punk in the dark.

By the time his explanation had come to an end, you felt awful for how you had treated him. He was just tired and wanted to get some quality sleep with you, and you had acted like a jerk.

You apologize for your reaction to him and explain yourself in return. You told him how you thought he had died or something even worse. You couldn't tell it, but he was smirking behind his mask. It was cute how you worried so much over him.

He tells you it’s fine, and everything goes back to normal, with no missing Killer and panicking y/n. The two of you fall asleep in each others arms, glad to be reunited.

๑Ace

You had wanted to get Ace a gift for his upcoming birthday while you were on an island restocking necessities.

Ace was a heavy sleeper, and that didn’t change when you slept with him. In the early hours of the morning, you made sure to slip out of bed without waking him up.

You got ready and went to shop after shop looking for the perfect gift for him. You had finally decided on [random trinket] and made your way back to the ship. What you didn’t expect was to have him grab your arm and yank you against him.

“Where were you?! I was so worried when I didn’t find you on the ship. What are you doing out here?”

Shit. You couldn’t spoil the gift for him, that was for his birthday! You decided it was best to just lie so you could save the gift.

“I had to go get some allergy relief Ace, this land has lots of flowers and the pollen is messing with me.”

He looked at you with an annoyed stare.

“If that was really the case, you would have seen Marco. What’s in the bag.”

His patience was thin and you knew there was no chance in saving the gift.

“A gift, Ace. Now will you get off my back? Sorry I spooked you.”

You knew he had much more to say, but you started walking back in the direction of the Moby Dick while ignoring him.

You’re grabbed by the shoulder this time. What was his deal?

“Y/n, please, I’m sorry for whatever I did but why are you being like this? Are you seeing someone else, am I not enough?”

You immediately freeze. This little lie couldn’t go on for any longer, unless you want to further upset you boyfriend.

“Ace, listen to me, it’s not anything like that! It’s just your birthday gift I was trying to hide from you! Look!”

You show him his gift and you can feel his relief, and then his regret.

“I’m really sorry I overreacted like that, I didn’t mean to make you spoil a gift. I was worried something had happened when I didn’t see you and I panicked.”

You reassure him that it was fine and wish him a happy early birthday by giving him the gift.

An early gift never hurt anyone.

He ends up loving it, cherishing the item.

#one piece scenario #killer x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #.headcannons #.onepiece #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #ace x reader #one piece killer

[angelwiththeblue-box]

so why don't we go somewhere only we know

lokius being in love throughout time | ao3 link

@thedragonemperess @the-bi-fangirl-biatch i think both of you wanted to see this <3

79 CE

Explosions rattled their house. Loki looked around, frantic to find Mobius.

“MOBIUS!” He screamed. They had to go, they had to get out. “MOBIUS!”

Rocks smashed into their house and Loki flinched, sliding under the table.

“Loki? Loki, are you here?” Loki lets out a breath and scrambles up, wrapping his arms around Mobius.

“Mobius! Are you hurt, are you okay? What’s going on?” Loki demands, inspecting his partner.

“Loki, I’m fine, I’m fine.”

Loki drops his head on Mobius’s shoulder. “I was worried.”

“I know. But we need to go, right now.” Loki nods and the pair grab shoes and head out the door. Loki spares one last look at their house, before following Mobius out the door.

Outside, Loki shields his eyes. Smoke fills the air, and Vesuvias thunders.

“We’re not gonna make it.” Loki says, tugging on Mobius’s arm. “Mobius, we aren’t gonna make it out.”

“Yes, we are. Come on!”

“Mobius. Mobius!” Tears fill Loki’s eyes. “We aren’t gonna make it.”

“I don’t want to die.” Mobius says, his voice breaking. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, Mobius. I promise. You won’t lose me.”

Tears fall down Mobius’s face and he falls into Loki.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The two of them stand there, not wanting to let each other go, as Pompeii is destroyed around them.

London, 1601

Loki smiles widely, watching as the actors take their places on stage.

“That’s my brother!” Loki whispers to the man sitting next to him as his older brother storms on stage. “Playing Hamlet.”

“Really?”

“SHH!” A woman behind them hisses and Loki hides a laugh.

“I’m Mobius,” Mobius whispers.

“Loki Laufeyson. Pleasure.” Loki responds.

“SHH!”

Loki turns in his seat. “Shh!” He hisses back, before facing front. Mobius hides his laughter and Loki smiles softly, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“After this… would you maybe want to go for a pint?” Mobius whispers.

Loki turns to him.

“I would love to.”

New York City, 1929

“Sylvie, hurry up!” Loki says, pulling his sister down the sidewalk. “We’re gonna be late!”

“Calm down, your boyfriend is not going to break up with you because we were five minutes late.” Syvlie says, rolling her eyes.

“He’s not my- Sylvie!” Loki whines. Sylvie laughs and the two of them walk down the steps to the speakeasy.

Loki knocks on the door.

“Password?”

“Crystal glasses.” Loki answers.

The door opens and Sylvie and Loki walk through, jazz music playing from the stage at the back of the room.

“Do you see him?” Loki asks, scanning the crowded room.

Sylvie shakes her head. “Let’s get drinks.” She leads Loki across the dance floor and orders them both drinks.

“Mobius said tonight, right?” Loki asks, looking around.

“Yes, Loki. He’s probably running late.” Sylvie says, before getting pulled onto the dance floor. She hands Loki her drink, laughing as she gets spun around. Loki sighs and downs the drink.

“May I have this dance?” Loki looks up to see Mobius standing in front of him, holding his hand out. A wide grin breaks over Loki’s face, and he grabs Mobius’s hand.

“Of course.”

California, 1987

“We’ll be fine, right?” Mobius asks, as he and Loki lie in bed.

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“They- you’re-” Mobius cuts himself off.

“Because I’m dying.” Loki says, calmly. Mobius’s silence confirms it. “Why wouldn’t we be fine. They might find a cure.”

“They won’t. They don’t care.” Mobius responds coldly.

“Moby.” Loki whispers. “They don't matter. We matter. Here and now.”

“You’re right.” Loki burrows himself in Mobius’s oversized sweater, not wanting to miss a moment of peace.

Mobius wraps his arms around Loki, his body weak and trembling.

“Loki?” Mobius asks.

“Yes, my love?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Idiot. I’m not going anywhere.” Loki responds, fondly. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

America, 2015

“Loki! Loki! Loki! Did you hear!” Sylvie bursts into the bookstore that Loki works at. Three people shush her, and she glares at them, before heading behind the counter.

“You’re not allowed back here.” Loki reprimands, knowing it won’t do anything, since Sylvie’s dating his supervisor.

“That’s not important, right now. Look!” Sylvie shoves her phone in Loki’s face.

Loki grabs it and scans the article. “Is this for real? Is this real?” Sylvie nods, bouncing on her feet.

Loki takes off his nametag. “I have to go find Mobius. Can you tell Hunt I’m taking the next two days off.”

“You owe me!” Sylvie says.

“I know. If this works out, I’ll let you be my maid of honor.”

“Thank you. Now GO!” Sylvie pushes him out the door, handing him his phone and his coat.

Loki races to his car, calling Mobius, but it goes straight to voicemail. Loki drives way over the speed limit in his attempt to get to his boyfriend. Ten years. Ten years they’d been together, and now Loki can do what he’s been wanting to do from the beginning.

Loki parks and makes sure that he has everything, before racing into Mobius’s building. He gets five steps in, before crashing into someone, knocking them both over.

“Hey!” Loki accuses.

“Loki?”

“Mobius. You’re here! Did you see the news?” Loki asks, pulling them both up so they’re standing.

“Yes, Casey showed me! Can you believe it!” Loki nods, leading Mobius away from the center of the lobby.

“I- Mobius. We’ve been together for ten years. Those ten years have been some of the best ten years of my life and I’ve never been happier.” Loki lowers himself onto one knee. “I know this isn’t the best place to do this, but Mobius, will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes!” Mobius cries. Loki stands up and slips the ring onto his finger. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

The Ruins of the TVA, outside of all Time and Space

“Are you sure you don’t want your memories back? You might have had a life, Mobius. A family!” Loki cries. He doesn’t want to give Mobius his memories back, he doesn’t want to lose the first friend he ever had, but if Mobius has family to go back to, who was he to stand in his way.

“Loki, I don’t need my memories. I have all the memories I need. They might not all be good, but they’re mine.”

“But-”

“I’m sure.” Mobius says. “Plus, I already have a family. Right here.” Mobius pokes Loki in the chest. “I have you, Sylvie, and B-15, and Casey. All the family I want.”

Loki hides a smile, and reaches out to grab Mobius’s hand. The former agent looks down in surprise, before interlocking their fingers.

“See. I don’t need anything else.” Mobius leans in and kisses Loki.

Green sparks flash, and images fly through Mobius’s head, of different time periods, of him and Loki, falling in love over and over again. They’re happy.

Mobius pulls away.

“I’m so sorry, I know you said you didn’t want to see anything but I can’t really contr-” Mobius kisses Loki again, wrapping his arms around Loki’s waist.

“I love you. I always will.”

“I love you too.”

#val writes #lokius #mischief twins #loki #mobius m mobius #loki x mobius

[ziee]

Strangers to Lovers

You just finished your 13-hour shift at the hospital. You were sweaty and hot, your hair sticking to your forehead, clothing wrinkled from hours of use. You were in the midst of leaving, having grabbed your bag from the hangers when you noticed something square resting on one of the break room tables.

You walk towards it, realizing it was a phone before reaching for it. Pressing the home button, you instantly recognize the owner. The lock screen was a picture of Barbra Lake, your co-worker as well as your best friend in the office, and her son hugging.

You smiled at the photo before sighing. Oh Barbra. She was probably in a rush to get home for her son without even realizing she forgot her phone. You scoop it up and place it in your backpack. Guess your shower will have to wait a bit.

Driving to her house, you hum a tune in the car as you steer. Pulling up on the driveway, you step out of your car and walk up to the front door. Knocking, you heard voices yelling inside. Growing concerned, you knock a few more times before hearing more yelling before it settles.

You wait a few seconds before knocking again. You could hear footsteps walking towards the door, as a voice shouted "Blinky!" before the door opened. In front of you was a man. 6ft tall, wearing a blue button-up with a brown sweater and black pants, man. Was Barbra on a date.. Straight after work?

"Hello!" He said, smiling down at you. You snapped back in from zoning out, eyes shooting forward and up into his.

"Ah, hello." You smile, "Is Barbra home..?" You lean to the side to try and look inside but the man blocks your view. Just then, Jim comes running from behind the eccentric stranger.

"Y/n? Why are you here?" He asks as he pushes the other male away from the door.

"I'm looking for Barbra, she left her phone in the office before leaving today." You hold up the phone and wiggle it. The young boy sighs and places a hand on his forehead, muttering words.

"Oh mom.." Speak of the devil. The overworked doctor strolls into the front area, holding a small piece of paper before spotting you.

"Y/n?" Coming towards the door, Jim moves out of the way so you could step inside. You enter the house and smile at the doctor, holding her phone in your hand.

"You forgot something." Jim shuts the door behind you and stands next to the man as you and his mother chat. Handing her the phone, she thanks you and introduces you to the male known as 'Mr.Blink-heh', he corrects her. Giving her a quickly hushed whisper, your thoughts were denied about their relationship. Apparently, he was Jim's guidance counsler.

"A pleasure to meet you miss Y/n." Holding his hand out, he gives you a bright smile. Taking his hand in your own, you glance down only for a second, noticing the size difference between your two body parts. His large fingers wrap around your hand, grazing softly upon your skin as you shake. All too soon he lets go, your eyes darting back up towards his.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr.Blink-heh." Your hand dangles by your side, the warmth of his hand vanishing. His words left you flustered, intriguing you to learn more about him. So polite, so tall, so handsome. His stature screamed awkward, which you found adorable.

"You can call me Blinky." He whispered in your ear as the Lakes talked. You froze, not wanting to move as he speaks so close to you. Looking towards him, you nod with a smile, turning back quickly as you felt your cheeks growing red at such close interaction. You had felt his breath on your neck.

The Lakes turned back towards you and Blinky, eyes chimed with a glint of curiosity as they both eyed you and the man. You coughed. "Well, I should get home. I don't want to stink up your house." Cue laughter.

"It was nice having you over, even for a short while," Barbra says, standing by the shoe rack. "Thank you for the phone too, I don't know what I would have done." She chuckles. You do the same and nod, turning your body to face the door, eyes still on the women. Your hand moves to the knob, feeling you have a good idea of the placement before your hand encases something large and warm.

A body is out of the corner of your eyes, your head turns to the warmth. Your hand was around Blinky's, placed onto the golden knob. "Oh! Sorry!" You remove your hand, embarrassed.

"Allow me," His lips lift, twisting the knob to open the door for you. You stare at the gentleman who opened the door for you. Flushing furiously, you giggle in an awkward way, shifting your weight from feet to feet. You didn't want to leave.

"Ah, thank you." You go to walk out, into the warm air of the summer. You stop, turning around. "Can I- Urgh- Would you like to meet again? If you want..?" Damn your under-confidence. You sounded so stupid, of course, he wouldn't want to meet you again.

"Absolutely! That would be wonderful." Wait, what? "Allow me to place my digits into your mobile device."

"My mobi-? Oh! My phone? Yeah, yeah, just let me.." You quickly grabbed your phone from your back pocket, unlocking it for him. Giving him your phone, he does the same. You exchange numbers, your heart giddy at the rising excitement from this transaction. You've never really dated a lot, tried to in high school. No one took interest in you.

But, this man you only just met minutes prior, has done more things to you than anything that's gotten your heart racing in all your years. He handed back your phone, shakey hands grabbing from his large ones, to be placed once again into your back pocket. Your eyes trace him one last time before thanking him and running down the stone steps of the Lakes house.

Once you were in your car, driving mindlessly to your house, only was it then you realized your best friend and her son had watched you in your virgin daze. Fuckkkkkk- that is so embarrassing. You chuckled at the thought as your cheeks flushed.

Once you got home, you were in the midst of brushing your teeth when your phone dinged. Picking it up, it was a text from Blinky. Wow, he doesn't wait. Smiling as you read the text, you squeal once you've finished. "I would like to invite you to an outing next Saturday. I await your response."

You text back immediately, saying of course you'd go. The date- was it a date? Oh, you hope it's a date- was planned for 1 Pm. Meeting at the local cafe, you honestly couldn't wait 4 days. Giddy all night, it was a pain to wake up at 4 for your next shift. Teasing the next day from Barbra was foretold.

You got through the week even with you sitting at your closet for hours, deciding what to wear. Finally, today was the day you've been waiting for. A little 'too' excited for. You chose your clothes yesterday, after throwing at least your whole wardrobe on the floor in your decision-making.

Taking a shower, just to be extra clean. You wonder what he'll be wearing. What should you talk about? You hoped the conversation wouldn't be too awkward, especially on the first date. Oh, you hope you won't be too awkward, you were known to freeze up with attractive men. Thinking about his smile from 5 days ago, you blushed. What an attractive man indeed..

You finished your shower, skin red with steam and heat. Dressing in the chosen outfit, you glanced at your phone. No texts. Not to worry, Blinky was so not the type of guy to ditch. Or was he..? You decided not to worry too much, slipping on your shoes before heading off. The trip wasn't too far, you lived remotely close to it as Arcadia wasn't that big of a town.

Picking a spot outside, you ordered 2 glasses of water as you waited for the man of the hour. 5 minutes pass and you anxiously glance at your phone, your glass half empty. Your worries were soon put to rest as you saw Blinky run out from the corner.

"Ah, Blinky!" You smiled, watching as he tipped his head down.

"A thousand apologies for making you wait miss Y/n." He panted as he sat down, spotting the water before picking it up and chugging it.

"Please, just call me Y/n. Miss sounds a bit formal doesn't it?" You joke, laughing as he set the glass down.

"Perhaps, but it fits a lady like you." Your eyes widened before a blush settled into your cheeks. 2 sentences down and you're already red? Yeesh.

"So how have you been?" Scooting closer in your chair, you rest your hands on the table as you looked at him.

"Ah, excellent now in your company. The past few days have been quite busy.." You take a sip of water, hiding your smile.

"That's too bad. At least now you can relax a bit." You grabbed a menu and opened it, scanning the options. As you were scanning, you heard him grunt before he slapped a hand over his cheek. Looking over the sealed paper, you raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"Nope! Just a mosquito." He didn't move his hand, which made you wonder even more, but you continued looking over the menu.

"Ooh! Look at number 5 on the menu, maybe we should share it?" You suggest. He groans once more, before hearing a clacking noise. You peer over the menu again, staring at him in worry.

"Are you ok?" You place the menu down, reaching a hand over the table.

"Marvelous!" He shouts, picking up the menu as he hides his face. What in the world..? As you grew concerned, your eyes widened at what was happening.

"Blinky, your skin- you're turning blue. I don't mean to alarm you but I think you're having a heart attack." He continues groaning before smoke appears from his face. "And.. Are you smoking?"

"A filthy habit, I really must admit." He laughs before standing up. "Excuse me, I have to use the facilities, I'll only be a moment." He takes the menu, covering his face, and runs into the restaurant. What just happened.

You shake your head. Ok, serious. He may actually be having a heart attack. You're a doctor, this is your job. You rush into the restaurant and near the men's bathroom as someone was yelling for a doctor. "I'll check on him." You say to the man, rushing inside the bathroom.

You move towards the only closed stall and knock. "Blinky, I'm a doctor I can help you. Please open up!" You knock again.

"I'm fine! Really, nothing to see here." A clicking shuffle. Alright, that's it.

"I'm coming in!" You yell, kicking the door. He screams and you can feel resistance on the door but you continue kicking before it opens. "Ah thank god, Blinky are you ok- AHHH!" You scream, looking at what's before you. A trollish creature with blue skin, 4 arms, and 6 eyes look down upon you.

He screams, 2 of his lower hands moving down to cover his groin as the upper ones cover his chest. "AHHH! What are you?!" You yell, backing up. He stops screaming as bends down to pick up a brown coat, much too small for him, and covers his waist.

"Y/n! I did not want you to see me like this.. But alas, it was bound to happen." His voice sounds familiar... And that coat!

"Blinky?!" You cautiously near closer, looking upwards at the frightened troll.

"Yes, that is me. I'm sorry for lying Y/n, honestly." His upper hands play with themselves, rubbing into the stone as he nervously looks at you.

"N-nevermind that. Do you- can you get out of here? We could go to my house and discuss all.. This," you gesture towards him, "I don't think a restaurant bathroom is a good spot for an explanation." He nodded, agreeing.

"I would, but I burn in daylight. If you could cover me with something... Aha! The table cloth should work." You nodded, scurrying towards the door.

"Uh, ok. Stay there!" You yell, rushing out the door and outside. You were wondering how you'd get past everyone in the restaurant, but you suppose you could just run. You grabbed the cloth, pulling it from the table before balling it up and running back towards the stall.

"Ok, I got it." You handed it to him as he awkwardly drapes it over himself. He exits the stall, stumbling a bit under the sheet, and tries to find your hand. You hold it from over the sheet, noticing the significate size difference of his real hand over yours. "I'm gonna lead you out and to my car. We'll have to run, so just trust me, alright?"

"Gasp! An automobile!" You smiled and pulled him out, running past the other guests as you hear the fast taps of stone feet behind you. You run outside, the breezy air rushing through your hair as you spot your car.

Stopping in front of it, you quickly unlock it and push the troll inside. "Ompf!" He adjusts himself inside as you get into the driver's seat, starting the engine, and backing up. "What a rush." He chuckles before looking around.

"I've never stolen anything before." You say, heart racing as you drive. "But that was fun!" You smile. He laughs and fiddles with the windows, head peeking out from the sheet. You got to your house fast, enhanced by your adrenaline and illegal speeding. You urshed the large white sheet inside the house as soon as you got the front door unlocked.

"Phew!" You pressed your back against the wooden door, wiping your forehead. Your eyes turn up to the still troll, stilling wearing the sheet, in the middle of your hallway. "You can take the sheet off Blinky." You laughed. It looked as if a failed attempt at a ghost costume.

"Ah, yes.." He slowly lifts it up, removing it from his body. Now, you can actually get a good look at the troll before you. He was so.. Large. Around 7ft, with 6 eyes that bore deeply into yours. You've never seen anything like him.

You pick yourself up and move towards the couch, gesturing him to follow. "Why don't we sit down and.. Talk. Oh- I can make some tea if you'd like? It would be just as we planned, but in a house!" You smiled, joking, and turned around.

His face bore a worried expression, brows furrowed and down. You grew concerned. "Blinky? Is something wrong?" His eyes meet yours as he shakes his head.

"Ah, yes- no. Well.. I did not intend to meet like this. I'm terribly sorry I lied about my true form, Y/n." He neared you until he was in front of you. Both sets of hands played with their fingers.

"Blinky.." You sat down onto the couch, pulling him down with you. You settled your legs under your knees, sinking into the plush as you turned to him. "Don't be sorry. I'm surprised, yes, but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. Just because you've changed physically doesn't mean I want to break things off. You're still the same Blinky I like." You smiled, placing a soft hand upon his arm.

He nodded, lips lifting into a curve. 6 eyes stared at your hand, for quite a few seconds before they shot to your face. "Y/n.. It may be a bit soon to share this but, over the few days we've known each other, the time you've blessed me with.." He stopped for a moment, figuring out the right words to say.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you understood what was so hard for him to spout. In all honestly, you felt the same. It was a little rushed, but everything felt so right with him. You instantly clicked, so you finished his sentence for him. "I like you too."

...

"Oh by Deya's grace, thank you." He grabbed your hand from his arm, holding it in his palm as you both smile. Both sitting content, holding hands in comfortable silence. You weren't sure what to say next, so you decided to lean in.

"Can I..?" You whisper, face nearing his.

"You may..?" He sounded confused as to what you were referring to, but as your lips touched his, he soon melted into your actions. You pushed yourself inwards, your hand resting upon his shoulder for balance as your other was still encased in his. He wrapped his lower hands around your waist, as you continued your slightly awkward first kiss.

His jaw was incredibly large, with tusks that could tear through you easily, yet he made an effort to press lightly into you. You never thought it would be this erotic, this one tiny kissed has turned your head inside out. Your thighs clenched as your hand clutched onto his shoulder, your hands fiddling with his overall strap.

Breaking away for air, you pant as you both stare into each other. "That was.." He's one word short again, so you finish his thoughts with the only word you could think of.

"Breathtaking." You breathe out with what little air he kept for you. His cheeks shone blue, making you wonder what was underneath his stone skin just for a moment before other matters called to you. You wanted more.

"Exactly." His lower hands pulled you further towards him if that was possible. You decided to reposition yourself so that you were in his lap, legs draped over his waist, touching the couch with your feet. You pulled your arms around his large neck and leaned in.

"Let's do it again." Words from your tone, needy and breathy, his actions immediately matching. Your lips touched once more, more serious. More.. Vicious. One of his upper hands places itself softly on the back of your head, tilting it away from his teeth as you press into him. Your hands softly melt into his skin, sliding up to his cheeks, caressing the foreign texture.

Suddenly feeling your weight shifting, gravity pulled you down as you were flipped onto your back, softly pressing into the couch. Hand on your hand all the way down, he broke the kiss momentarily as he changed you. Hovering over you, you suddenly felt very small. And you... Liked it?

His lips met yours once more, eagerly wanting more of you. A knee had been placed in between your legs, making your foot fall slightly off the sofa. You pant through the kiss, not getting enough air to your head from all this time spent making out. He broke away, giving you time to breathe.

"Now I see why you humans like that so much." He grinned as he leaned over you. His hand came up from your waist to touch your cheek, softly caressing as you blush.

"You're good, for a beginner." You stick your tongue out in a playful manner. He chuckled, moving back up and away from you. You softly pouted but settled yourself back onto your butt. Your eyes gaze away from him and towards your wooden stairs. "Why don't we," You look back towards him, his 6 eyes connecting with yours, "take this to my bedroom. You know, the bed is probably more comfortable than the couch." You wink.

He seems to get the hint, looking a bit flustered yet nodding at the same time. Picking yourself up, you excitedly run towards the stairs, fanning your heated face as you hear the creak of steps from his stone feet following closely behind.

You both get to the room, closing the door as he sits on the mattress. You decide to make the first move or 3rd. Sauntering over, you swing your legs over his hips, sitting into his lap. "Is this alright?" You whisper, your eyes slowly turning upwards to meet his. Dark red pierce your own. Almost as if in a trance, he nods slowly.

"Yes.. That's- You're alright." You softly swing your hips, circling in his lap.

"Just alright?" He's definitely felt you, 2 hands immediately clutching onto your hips.

"No!" He stampers, "You're exquisite. Just having you in my lap is an honor." Your cheeks flushed as you giggled, holding a hand up to your mouth.

"Well, that was quite a compliment. Your lap is rather comfy." You supposed it was due to his thick overalls. Sliding a hand up his stomach, you clutch onto his straps with both hands. Giving a soft tug, you lean up and into his face. Giving him a slow, soft kiss, you felt his hands rub into the fabric of your shirt.

"Blinky, I really want you. Like, a lot." You break away, your hold on his straps falling. "But I understand if you want to stop. We can take it slow, I won't be offended." Folding your hands in your own lap, you sat still and waited for an answer.

He looked down at you, raising a hand to cup your face. "Y/n," he softly smiled, "I would be more than happy to experience this with you." Your worries melted away. Taking his hand in your own, you leaned into his touch further.

"Then please, touch me." You knew it was a tad selfish of you to say that, but you were so in need. His.. Him.. He was definitely not making it easy not to be aroused. Everything about his new, or original form, was just so breathtaking. You wanted to learn more about him, in every day, but first, you have to deal with the issue between your legs.

You directed him to undress you, first pulling off your shirt, and with a little help from you, your bra. Next was your pants, you shimmied them off a bit uncomfortably but that, and your underwear, were long gone. Now, you sat naked in the lap of your lover.

"Now.. Touch my boobs. Like, rub the nipple, twist, or, lick." You wink at the last part as you arch your back towards him. He understands and moves his upper hands to your chest, his lower holding the bottom of your back and around your waist. You smile as his large hands wrap around your molds, heated stone giving you a very nice feeling.

He was a fast learner, twisting your nipples with a soft force. He began twisting, pulling. Your thighs clenched as he leaned down, head towards your chest. Moving his hand, he takes your right nipple into his mouth. You pant softly as your skin is encased in heat. A wet muscle hit your tit, swirling around it. You gasped, a shock of arousal hitting you. So he does have a tongue.

Taking his time with you, he switches over to the other one once he's thoroughly coated your tit with his saliva. "Ah, you're so soft." He moves his head over, rubbing the skin around your waist to enhance his comment. You chuckle, raising your hands up to his head, softly combing through azure hair before finding long ears.

"And you're very good with your tongue.." You think whilst rubbing his stone ears. "Wonder what else you could do with it." He moves his head up from your chest, stopping in front of you.

"Teach me." And so you did. Flipping positions, you now lay on your back as he leans over you. He shuffles back so his head is in front of your loosely closed legs. Setting his upper hands on your inner thighs, he slowly judges them apart.

You lean up, crunched at your stomach as you explain to him your parts. "Now, this is the clitoris, it's just for stimulating pleasure. You can use your fingers or mouth. And down here," You point to your entrance, "is the grand finale.." You thought for a second. "Do you have.. The part?" Looking between your pelvis and his eyes, he seemed to get the hint.

"Yes, I do have the male organ." He laughed, "Most trolls have both of the 'sets' as you call them, female and male."

"Wow.." You lean back down. Feeling him come closer, you twitch as you feel his nose pressed against you. It moved higher up, and you gasped as you felt his mouth open, tongue sliding from between his teeth to touch you. Shivering as he slid the muscle up and down, it covered the entirety of you. You didn't realize until now how big his tongue actually was.

Feeling him start focusing on your clit, you shivered and twitched as you were pleasured. Hands felt around your waist, as well as your legs. He groped and rubbed at your skin, almost as if petting you.

You felt your core tighten, your thighs already starting to clench. He was just too good. Such a fast learner. Your hands threw themselves down, searching for anything to grab onto. Fingertips felt hard, pointed stone. You looked down at found you were holding onto his horns. He hadn't made any complaint, so you let them be.

You burned, so close. So close! The grip on his horns tightened as you started bucking wildly into his mouth. He held on and allowed you so, riding out your orgasm as you cry out. "Oh god!" As you finished, you leaned back into the mattress and released his horns. Your thighs twitched in his hold. He leaned up, looking pleased with himself seeing you worn out.

"I'm glad I was acceptable." He spoke softly, rubbing into your thighs as you pant.

"That was- You were amazing." You smiled, looking up at him. "Why don't you take off your overalls?"

He did so quickly, snapping the hooks off and placing the cloth on the ground. There, both of you sat on the bed, naked. Sitting on your butt in front of him, you rubbed up from his belly to his chest. "So, all I see is stone. How do we make you, y'know." It felt a little embarrassing to be this needy, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Ah, you need to coax me open." He leaned onto his back and spread his legs. You nodded and shimmied over to him. Feeling a little unsure, you move your hand to stroke his pelvis. He shivered. You'll take that as a good sign. Softly stroking up and down, it was only moments later until plates moved, revealing..

3 Tentacles. A shocked expression pierced your face as you stared at the wriggling pieces of muscle. "Those are my primary sex, the larger one is the functioning one. The smaller ones serve as stimulation adders." Well, this, is, new. And,

You like it.

Your hand lifted, nearing the appendages as they swing towards you. He twitched as you touched the slippery phalluses. Softly stroking, you grinned as he let out a soft moan. Pounding. You were so ready. Removing your hand, you lifted yourself and sat upon his stomach. Tentacles wriggled against your butt, searching for an entrance.

You placed your hand on his chest and lean down. Taking his lips between yours, you share a soft and tender kiss. He snaked his hands around you, pressing into your waist and chest. You break away and lick your lips, shifting backward before leaning up.

You situate yourself above the larger one, slowly coming down. You wince as he enters you, the tentacle feeling larger than it looks. He supports your weight as you come down, holding you in the air as he stretches into you.

Finally, you're sat on his stomach, feeling his muscle exploring your walls. "You're.. Really big.." You pant, adjusting to his size as you hold onto a hand wrapped around your waist.

"You feel amazing.." His smaller tentacles swirl around your inner thighs, coating your skin with unknown juices. You decide to try and move. Coming up from his belly, you sink down a little faster than before. You're pretty sure he hit further inside you as you hear him groan loudly.

You feel no more pain, so you try again. And it feels delightful. Oh, he fits perfectly inside you. Encased in your walls for no more than seconds, sliding himself in and out does wonder for the old troll.

You start to lean on his chest, your thighs burn as you slide him in and out. "So good.." You moan out. You guess you started getting sloppy, so he grips your waist as pumps into you hard. You gasp, him hitting inside you so fast felt like something otherworldly, and you guessed it probably applied here.

You clutched onto him as he lifted his hips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Neither speaks, too consumed with pleasure. You felt your orgasm coming, it was so close. Just a little more.. He hits a spot, and you come. Crying out, it's so powerful tears weld in your eyes. You try and breathe but he keeps pounding into you.

Smaller phalluses saunter upwards, reaching in between your folds. They circle your clit, and you shudder from over-stimulation. He makes somewhat of a honking noise, and you feel a warm sensation engulf you. Softly bucking, he slows down until he's completely done. Knees falling, you both lie in silence and exhaustion. His tentacles fall flaccid.

You lift your hips and feel him slide out, as well as drips of white liquid. You puff out air, not caring to clean up just yet. Hearing a soft click, you realize his sex has been put away, giving you space to fully lay on him.

Caressing his hands over your waist, you lean up and give him a small peck on his cheek. He smiles down at you with an award-winning smile. "We can definitely make this work."

#Trollhunters #tales of arcadia #blinky #blinkous #blinkyxreader #blinkousxreader #blinkous galadrigal

[be11atrixthestrange]

Step 12: Asking Her To Marry You

From 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Hermione Granger

(Which is now complete!!)

Check it out on Ao3 or FFN!

————————————

Asking Her To Marry You

At this point in your relationship, you’ll hopefully know her well enough to plan the perfect proposal. But don’t worry too much about perfection— if you’ve followed our advice, she’ll be charmed enough to say yes to an imperfect one too. So alas, this is where our guidance ends, your future together begins. Best of luck!

————————————

Ron chuckled at the book’s irritating, yet unsurprising lack of advice. Annoyingly, the book was right— he no longer needed its guidance. What he needed was sleep, in fact, his body was now begging for it.

He set the book on the table beside him and curled up behind Hermione. With his face in her hair and his arm around her waist, he closed his eyes and was asleep in no time. Any anxiety about the next day was appeased by his dreams, in which his elaborate— maybe slightly exaggerated—  plan to propose went off without a hitch.

xxxxx

In his dream, Hermione was the first to rise— as usual, and Ron woke to the sound of the shower. Ron watched himself stumble out of bed and into the steam to join her, where she enthusiastically embraced him, jumped into his arms, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her lips, her cheeks and her neck before working his way down her body. Dream-Ron moved his mouth between her legs while Hermione gripped his hair and slipped her thigh over his shoulder. Pleased with his own technique, Ron smugly watched on as Hermione unravelled, and he hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time that day Dream-Ron would invoke such an enthusiastic exclamation while down on one knee.

Almost too suddenly, the shower scene morphed and shifted like a memory transition in a pensive. Dream-Ron was in the kitchen, and Hermione was curled up in the living room with a book. Pots and pans sizzled on the stove, and the scent of a hearty breakfast filled the air. The tea-kettle whistled and he poured two cups before piling their plates high with food. They sat cozily on the sofa, eating breakfast and confirming plans for the day.

The walls of their apartment then faded away, rematerializing into what appeared to be a blend of a nearby bookstore and the Hogwarts library. Ron and Hermione were quickly engulfed by the maze of bookshelves. Hermione’s mind was always turning, looking for problems to solve and puzzles to complete, so she didn’t protest when Ron handed her the first book— Wuthering Heights, and told her he’d set up a puzzle for her to solve. In that book he’d dog-eared a page, and circled letters that named the title of the next one. Ron saw a smile spread across her face as she began her hunt, excitedly flipping through each novel until her stack included Wuthering Heights, as well as Iliad, Little Women, Life of Pi, Year of Wonders, Oliver Twist, and Utopia.

Hermione became so engrossed in the scavenger hunt that she didn’t notice Dream-Ron leave the bookshop. She had no problem finding the rest of the books, and was soon holding a stack of blurry titles which Ron knew to be Moby Dick, Alice in Wonderland, Robinson Crusoe, Rabbit Hill, Youngblood Hawke, and Mansfield Park. There was just one more to find— Jane Austen’s ‘Emma’, which happened to be a portkey enchanted to bring her to Grimmauld Place.

It might have seemed like a random assortment of books, but it wasn’t. Ron had spent significant effort locating these exact titles, and he could list them in order by memory, and as a result, they’d been swimming in his dreams for quite some time now. He knew Hermione was clever enough to figure out the pattern, possibly too clever— so much so that she might miss the connection entirely. After all, she frequently overlooked what was right under her nose.

As soon as she laid her hand on Emma, the walls of the Corner Books—Hogwarts Library hybrid started spinning, morphing into the drawing room of Grimmauld Place as if it had taken a long swig of polyjuice potion. Soon enough, Hermione was standing face-to-face with Harry and Ginny.

“Hermione!” Ginny said excitedly. “You made it!”

“Where’s Ron?” she asked excitedly.

Harry answered by handing her another scrawl of paper.

Meet me in the place we first kissed. You’re clever enough to find out how.

Hermione looked up at Harry and Ginny, letting slip a little huff of annoyance. “That would be the room of requirement.”

Ginny shrugged, as tight-lipped as Ron had told her to be.

“The only way to get there is with a house elf—“

“Keep reading,” said Harry.

Hermione glanced back down to the note.

Ps: Remember what I said to earn that kiss!

Hermione scowled at the note.

Harry nodded. “I can summon Kreacher if you want—“

“No!” she said, and Dream-Ron smiled. Just like at the battle of Hogwarts, he would never force house elves to be part of his proposal plan, and he understood her well enough to assume she knew that. “There’s another way.”

Harry smiled and gestured to the rest of the house. “Have fun.”

The world spun around her once again, shifting into another room upstairs. Hermione was suddenly standing in front of one of the Vanishing Cabinets that the Aurors had confiscated from an ex-Death Eater months prior. In his dream, the cabinet was a bit more obvious than in reality. It was tall, colorful, and bursting with energy as though it were alive, unlike the dull, dark, and sinister version that actually existed. Even though the cabinet looked fun and enticing in the dream, Dream-Hermione was still a skeptic, so she stood in front of it with her arms crossed, her face scrunched up as though it had called her a dirty word.

Ron had pulled some serious strings to set the second one up in the Room of Requirement, but luckily, McGonagall was as much of a hopeless romantic as he was. Hermione continued to study the cabinet from a distance, as if checking for dark magic, and he understood her hesitation of course— she had no way of knowing where its sibling was. She gingerly opened the door to find another note scribbled inside.

You found it! See you on the other side.

Hermione beamed, and then to his confusion, dropped her bag to the floor, hastily removing books. When her bag appeared empty, she piled two books back in— Year of Wonders and Emma.

Interesting. Ron wasn’t going to pretend to understand that choice, even in a dream-state.

He shrugged it off, which was easy to do once distracted by the look of pure giddiness on her face as she disappeared inside.

Grimmauld Place faded away, and its place appeared the Room of Requirement. Not that it was recognizable as such— Ron had asked the Room of Requirement to look a very specific way, and of course, it had obliged, exceeding all expectations. Hermione stepped out of the cabinet into what appeared to be a train compartment on the Hogwarts Express, just like the one where he had first met her.

She looked around, and tears filled her eyes as the memories of their first encounter flooded in. On the cabinet door was another note, which she unstuck from the wall with a trembling hand.

This is where we met! It’s also where I first realized how much I valued the opinion of that precocious know-it-all, Hermione Granger. I still check for dirt on my nose everyday.

Hermione shakily laughed, and wiped a tear from her eyes with her free hand. Then the train compartment doors slid open to reveal another room. This time it was a bathroom, much like the one where she nearly lost her life to a rogue troll when they were eleven.

She shuddered at the memory, but grinned when she noticed the writing on the wall.

This is where I learned exactly how desperate I was for your forgiveness, and how far I was willing to go to earn your friendship. Thank you for teaching me how to pronounce Wingardium Leviosa.

Her eyes watered again, blurring her vision so that she nearly missed the door sliding open again to reveal the next room. Patting her sleeve to her eyes, she stepped out of the bathroom and into the Great Hall, which was all dolled up for the Yule Ball. The Weird Sisters playing loudly in the background was a stark contrast to the soft decorations and draping lights which looked exactly as romantic as they did in their fourth year.

This time, however, the lights spelled out a message.

This where I realized I fancied you.

Hermione laughed, clearly not as saddened by the memory as she could have been. Instead, she appeared grateful for the event that made Ron’s daft teenage self realize she was not just any girl.

A pair of doors appeared across the room, and Hermione continued her way through, admiring the decorations with a soft smile on her face. When she exited, she found herself in the Gryffindor Common Room— more specifically— the armchairs and fireplace where they had spent so many nights huddled up close to one another, studying, talking, or simply sitting in comfortable silence.

Her eyes paused on a message plastered on the wall, just above the fire.

This is where I fell irrevocably in love with you.

She looked longingly at those chairs, like she wanted to take a seat by the fire and curl up with a blanket and a book. He could clearly imagine her eyes scanning the pages, her fingers drifting over the words as if touching them would make them real, and her lips forming into a content smile as the day’s stress left her body. It was a beautiful image of her in her default state, a picture that was one hundred percent Hermione. He’d never seen her happier anywhere else.

Dream-Ron had appeared behind her. He cleared his throat, and Hermione turned on her heels to face him, her eyes instantly re-watering at the sight of him.

“Hermione,” he began, his voice shaking with nerves. “I know that you don’t like surprises, so I hope this doesn’t come as one.”

Her lips quivered and she brought a trembling hand to her face to absorb the tears that were now falling freely down her face.

“I even spelled it out for you in the bookstore, so I hope you’ve had time to think of your answer.” She softly laughed and her eyes sparkled when he reached into his pocket and took a step toward her, lowering himself to one knee. With a shaky inhale to prepare, he asked the question. “Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

Dream-Ron’s voice cracked like he was a teenager asking her to a dance, and he half expected her to look at him in confusion, and ask “what?”

But that’s not what happened. She was lost for words, and answered with her head which bobbed up and down as she ran toward him. He opened his arms to embrace her, but she halted.

“Wait!”

She dug into her bag, and pulled out the two books she had purposefully brought with her, Year of Wonders, and Emma. She handed them to Dream-Ron, who looked them over with an amused grin on his face, while she dove back into her bag. She pulled out a third— one that was not from the bookstore. Pride and Prejudice— her favorite book, the one she always has with her. It all made sense now.

Year of Wonders

Emma

Pride and Prejudice

Holding all three books, Dream-Ron smiled up at her. “Is… this a yes?”

“Well, seeing as I don’t have an S, it’s a ‘Yep’,” she said, before finally diving into his embrace as the books tumbled from his arms like basilisk fangs.

He had forgone all effort to keep from crying, and so had she. He momentarily pulled away from the hug to slide the ring onto her finger. It took a couple tries with their trembling hands, but then she fell heavier into his arms and he tightened his embrace. He lifted her up and carried her to an armchair, and they sat intertwined by the crackling fire, hugging, kissing, and crying into each other’s hair.

Ron half expected the room to shape-shift again, bringing them to the celebration at the Burrow where their families were waiting, but his dream never got that far. Their embrace in the armchairs began to feel even more real, and soon enough, the Gryffindor Common Room was fading to black.

xxxxx

Ron awoke in his own bed, his arms still wrapped solidly around Hermione. The sun was shining through the window, sending a beam of light to the floor where Crookshanks slept, belly up, as if he was trying to photosynthesize. Hermione began to shift restlessly in her sleep, groaning, as the light knocked on her eyelids like an unwelcome solicitor..

Reality set in, and it would have been easy to feel sad upon realizing his perfectly-executed proposal was all a dream. But instead, Ron just felt giddy with excitement. This could very well be the start of the best day of his life.

As long as everything went according to plan.

———————————————

“To Ron and Hermione!” exclaimed Arthur, reaching his champagne glass straight up into the air.

“To Ron and Hermione!” echoed a chorus of Weasleys, Grangers, and a Potter.

Glasses clinked, champagne splashed, and a beaming Ron slipped an arm around Hermione to pull her close to him. She tilted her head up to his, and he leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. He felt her arms wrap around his middle and vaguely heard a few whistles in the background.

Ron and Hermione. It always had a ring to it.

No time had been wasted before preparing The Burrow for the celebration. CONGRATULATIONS was magically written on the wall in capitalized, tinsel-like lettering that flashed red and gold. Jean and Molly had prepared an impressive spread, which rivaled Hogwarts welcoming feasts. Hugo was already mentoring Arthur in the art of mixology, while Charlie and George eagerly volunteered to taste test each new cocktail. There was a cake shaped like an engagement ring, and it appeared that Ginny had gotten to it, because the words “about fucking time” were scribbled across in icing.

“So, Darling,” said Jean, as she refilled her champagne glass. “Aren’t you going to tell us how he proposed?”

“Yes, dear! Please tell everyone!” echoed Molly.

Hermione, who had just taken an unusually large bite of watermelon, replied with a look of surprise, as if for some reason she hadn’t expected that question. She slowly chewed, buying herself some time, and sent a panicked glance in Ron’s direction. A silent conversation followed.

How much do I tell them?

That’s up to you.

They squinted at each other for a few more moments, finalizing the details of their abridged story. Then Hermione turned back to her mom. “I’d love to tell that story.”

xxxxx

Earlier that day...

“Good morning,” were the first words Ron mumbled at the start of the best day of his life.

“Morning,” she muttered back.

He snaked his arm around her and pulled her close. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, sending him a look of slight confusion at his eager confession of love. “I’ll be right back,” she added before hastily untangling himself from her arms, and bolting to the bathroom.

Ron groggily rolled out of bed to get dressed for the day. He opened the drawer of his nightstand to find the small velvet ring-box, and slipped it into his pocket before hobbling into the kitchen to make tea and start breakfast. He filled two mugs and set them aside to cool off while breakfast sizzled on the stove. His stomach twisted in a combination of hunger and nerves as he shuffled eggs around in the pan, planning out how he would introduce today’s activities. Luring her to the bookstore should be easy enough, but he hoped she was feeling up to the rest of the adventure.

He heard the shower starting upstairs, and turned the stove down to low. Remembering the colorful beginning of last night’s dream, he stumbled back into the bedroom, hoping Hermione wouldn’t mind a visitor. He presumptuously pulled off his shirt before cracking open the door to unleash a flume of steam into the bedroom.

Ron froze at the sight of Hermione. The shower was running in the background, but she was crouched on the tile floor, hovering her face over the toilet while she wretched. One hand wrangled her hair behind her head, while the other supported her weight on the floor.

Fuck.

“Hermione,” stammered Ron. “Are… are you ok?” He rushed to her side and knelt down, taking her hair from her hands. He cleared some loose strands away from her face while she gently shook her head.

“No,” she groaned. “Not okay—” her body interrupted her as she heaved again.

“Well, shit, Hermione,” he said softly, hoping his disappointment didn’t sour his words. Hermione rarely threw up. In fact, the last time he recalled had been during a panic attack in Australia before they found her parents. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time he’d held her hair on a bathroom floor while she vomited into the toilet. He felt a strange sense of pride, as if they had reached a new relationship milestone.

As his hopes for a smooth-sailing proposal started to fade, there was a part of him that considered asking her right there on the bathroom floor. It would have been the least romantic way to do it, and she’d probably hate him for it, but he doubted she’d say no. Something about seeing her in such a vulnerable state made his heart swell, and he wanted her to know it was that it was her humanity that he fell in love with.

Fuck, he’d marry her on a bathroom floor with vomit on her face, no question about it.

She grimaced and groaned, then leaned over the toilet yet again, and Ron gently held her close and rubbed her back as she suffered through the next wave of nausea.

He could maybe wait a little longer.

Eventually she stood up and wiped her face, revealing an expression of utter embarrassment. “Thank you,” she whispered, pointedly looking away from him. “I’m going to shower now.”

Ron scoured his mind for something to say that might make her feel less awkward. His randy brain landed on, “do you mind if I join you?”

Hermione paused, then laughed. “You want to shower with me?” she asked incredulously. “After that?” she added, motioning toward the bathroom floor.

“Well… always,” shrugged Ron.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t exactly feel sexy right now.”

He wanted to tell her how wrong she was, and that his attraction to her was unconditional, but worried it would have come off insincere. “Ok. Breakfast is ready in the kitchen—”

“About that,” she interrupted. “It smells wonderful but…” she trailed off, motioning to the toilet where she’d left last night’s meal.

“Right,” said Ron. “Would porridge be better?”

“Yes.”

“Ok then. Porridge it is.”

“Thank you.”

Once in the kitchen, Ron scraped the remaining eggs and veggies into a leftovers box, and stored them in the refrigerator, before getting started on a gentler, blander breakfast.

To contrast the flavorless porridge he was making, Ron’s mind shifted into overdrive, trying to rework his proposal plan to consider Hermione’s nausea. Portkeys could upset even the strongest stomachs, and the Vanishing Cabinet was no walk in the park either. He had planned to floo to the Burrow from Grimmauld Place after returning together in the Vanishing Cabinet, and at the very least, they could always floo to the Burrow early…

Fuck.

Ron tried to keep an open mind about the day ahead. Maybe Hermione would be feeling better after her shower, and a trip to the bookstore would cheer her up. If that didn’t work, maybe his mum would be able to push the celebration back a day, and he could try tomorrow.

Everything was going to be fine.

He doubted that even more when Hermione never returned to the kitchen. Thinking he’d better go check on her, he left breakfast on the counter for the second time, and made his way back to the bedroom.

She had returned to the same place as before, crouched on the bathroom floor, head bowed over the toilet. She looked pale and sullen, and hadn’t bothered to change into day clothes or dry her hair after her shower. Her sopping wet hair stuck firmly to her towel which seemed to absorb enough water to save their neglected houseplants and she sat on the tile with the heaviness of a bag of flour.

“Hermione?” Ron asked tenderly.

She shook her head, and covered her face with her hands.

“You’re not feeling any better,” he said.

Hermione shrugged.

Ron willed himself to emotionally detach from the remaining images of Hermione in a bookstore, the Room of Requirement, and the Burrow and sat down next to her. With a closer look at her face he realized she was crying.

Fuck.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as he slipped an arm around her. “I’m worried about you. You’re never sick.”

She turned into him and buried her face in his chest, mumbling something incoherent.

“Sorry?” he said, pulling her close to him so he could hear her better.

Lifting her face from his chest for a brief moment, she said, “We haven’t been spending mornings together.”

She was right, their schedules had never lined up enough to enjoy waking up at the same time, and as of late that was even more true. “Hermione,” he whispered. “Has this been happening a lot?”

Hermione nodded and pressed her face back into his chest. She spoke so softly against his shirt that he might not have heard her, but the words demanded his attention. “Ron, I’m pregnant.”

The images that had been dancing in Ron’s mind were still there— Hermione gathering books, searching for the Vanishing Cabinet at Grimmauld Place, wandering through Ron’s memories, and embracing him by the fire in the common room. It almost felt that his mind was expanding so that those images took up less and less space, because they weren’t actually real, and this was.

In all that extra space, his mind cycled through visions of his future, playing memories yet to be made. For the first time since he had decided to ask her to marry him, proposing felt like a simple task because he saw far beyond that now. He wanted to ask her, but then he wanted to hold her hair if she got sick again. He wanted to run out at weird hours of the night to buy the food she craved. He wanted to go to that bookstore, not so she could partake in his scavenger hunt, but so he could buy all the books about pregnancy and parenting.

“Are you serious?” were the words that tumbled out of his mouth, dripping with pure excitement. She nodded affirmatively, and an involuntary smile spread across his face.  He reached a hand to her cheek to wipe away a tear, before landing his lips on her forehead.

He felt her grinning under his hand, seemingly pleased at his positive reaction. Her excitement gave her next question a melody. “Well...what do you want to do?” She asked it confidently, like she already knew what he would say.

But she didn't know.

“I want to marry you,” he stated, like it was the most obvious question in the world.

She pulled away and squinted skeptically at him as if he might be joking, but there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

He then reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box, and popped it open to reveal a beautiful solitaire ring— simple, understated, yet timeless, just like Hermione.  Then a smile enveloped her face and she didn’t need to say anything at all. She leaned into his embrace, and he felt tears leaking from his eyes, elation on his face, and nothing but happiness.

They sat there intertwined and crying for some time until he realized she’d never actually answered. “So… will you?”

She responded wordlessly, with an enthusiastic nod against his chest, and he slipped the ring onto her finger.

It really felt like the rest of the world had disappeared and they were alone, the only people that mattered. When reality started to filter back, Ron had to chuckle at the sudden realization of what room they were in. It was almost funny how much effort he had put into planning out the perfect day, only to propose to Hermione on a bathroom floor.

“I had a better plan, you know,” he said finally. “To ask you.”

She shook her head and mumbled into his chest. “This was perfect.”

Maybe it was. Their friendship began in a bathroom, as did their relationship nearly eight years later, so it was quite fitting that he proposed in one too. He’d have to save his scavenger hunt for another occasion, but that was ok. He had a lifetime of opportunities ahead.

To outsiders, it might not be the most romantic story. Luckily, Ron didn’t give a fuck what outsiders thought, because he had Hermione.

xxxxx

“We had just woken up and were getting ready for the day. We got to talking, and I asked him what he wanted to do,” she said, wiping a stray tear from her face. “He said ‘I want to marry you.’ I... didn’t see it coming at all.”

Ron was thankful for the fact that his lopsided grin was pretty much stuck to his face, otherwise he might have winced. As he had predicted, Hermione had left out the most important piece of information. Without it, it all sounded rather unremarkable.

“Out of the blue?” asked Molly, her eyebrows raised.

In his peripheral vision, Ron saw Harry and Ginny exchange a knowing glance.

“Out of the blue.” said Hermione, before taking another big bite of her watermelon slice.

“I think that’s so romantic!” Jean had one hand resting on her heart, and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Ron, did you plan it like that?”

Ron inhaled sharply at the sound of his name. “Um, well no, actually,” he said, sending a reassuring look toward Hermione. “I had something more elaborate planned.”

“Then what happened?”

Ron grinned as he watched Hermione show off her ring to Ginny and Angelina who had appeared at her shoulder. “I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

Molly and Jean’s soft smiles and sparkling eyes suggested they were satisfied by that answer.

The celebrations continued into the evening hours, and sometime after dinner, Ron appeared at Hugo and Arthur’s makeshift bar to find that Hugo already had a drink waiting for him.

“Congratulations again, son!” said Arthur, before engulfing him in another hug.

“Thanks Dad,” he said.

“I’m going to check on my future daughter-in-law!” he said excitedly. “I’ll see if she wants a drink.”

Arthur scurried away, leaving Ron alone with Hugo.

“I already made you an Alexander,” Hugo said, sliding the drink across the table to Ron. “Made one for Hermione too.”

Ron felt his ears turning crimson, as if he’d been caught in a lie. Now was not the time to inform Hugo why his daughter wasn’t drinking. He would just have to drink for two today.

However, Hugo was quite observant. In a whisper he added, “there’s no alcohol in hers.”

Ron met Hugo’s unflinching gaze, and the two men stared at each other for an uncomfortable pause. The tension finally broke when Hugo smiled, and Ron felt a wave of relief. “How did you know?”

Hugo chuckled. “I’ve never seen her eat watermelon.” He took a dramatic swig of his own drink before continuing. “But Jean couldn’t get enough of it when she was pregnant with Hermione.”

Ron glanced over at Hermione, who was working her way through yet another slice of watermelon. He tried to remember the last time he’d seen her eating it, but was drawing a blank.

Hugo brought him out of his memories. “I guess our conversation about contraception was for shit.”

If Ron had just met Hugo, he might have put more effort into formulating a diplomatic answer. He might have interpreted his pursed lips as stern disapproval rather than a weak attempt to prevent himself from laughing at his own joke. He definitely would not have burst out laughing and answered the way he did.

“Total shit.”

Encouraged by a few cocktails, Hugo grinned widely and unleashed a hearty laugh. Then he did something surprising. He put down his glass, circled the table, and opened his arms to embrace Ron.

“I’m happy for you, son,” he said softly. “I hope you’re happy too.”

Ron saw no reason to hold back his tears, so he didn’t. He had always assumed his future father-in-law would consider Ron's happiness simply an extension of his daughter’s, but Hugo proved him wrong. This was a man who cared about him deeply, as if he was his own son and Ron could feel it. “I’ve never been happier.”

Hugo pulled him to arms length. Ron noticed a tear on his cheek and felt another wave of connection with the man. With a pat on his shoulder, he turned back to the bar and grabbed both glasses. “Now go have a drink. Have some fun,” he said before adding with a wink, “while you can.”

Ron found Hermione discussing wedding plans in the living room with Ginny and Angelina, and slid into a seat on the armrest of her chair. He pressed the glass into her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “non-alcoholic.”

She looked up at him and mouthed, thank you, before leaning against him while he slipped his arm around her.

Ginny was smiling at them as more Weasleys piled into the living room. Seeing Ron and Hermione together ignited another toast from the group. “To Ron and Hermione.”

“To Ron and Hermione!” echoed the crowd.

Plus one.

He’d never been more excited about anything in his life, and it was clearly evident by his expression. When she clicked her glass against his and looked him right in the eyes, he saw his own elation reflecting back at him, and knew she felt the same way. They had come so far, but their story was only just beginning.

#hp fanfic #ROMIONE #hpromione #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #romione fluff #ronweasley #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #Hermione Granger #hermionegranger

[nakunakunomi]

requested by anon  2nd person gender neutral reader  No warnings, just fluff! Enjoy <3 

Rain used to calm you down. You loved falling asleep to the soft pitter patter of raindrops on the window, finding some kind of blissful peace in the knowledge that you were safe and warm inside, buried underneath some blankets, while outside nature was doing it's best to create an atmosphere that was quite the opposite of such feelings. 

But now on sea, it was a whole different story. Every time you saw the sky turn grey, you felt your heart sink. A bad storm could mean the end of your journey. Any storm meant a rocky sea, waves splashing against the porthole, damp air that would make you feel uncomfortable in your sheets. You hated it. Even though you had been a pirate for a while and had experienced things anyone else would deem far more disturbing, the sight of the sky turning grey as nighttime fell was still enough to make your stomach drop. 

Soft droplets were soon followed by harder, bigger drops until you could no longer distinguish the sound of the waves clashing with the ship and the heavy rainfall making your porthole shake and rattle just enough to scare you. You were pretty sure you were not sleeping unless you tried another tactic than staring at your window, frozen by your brain imagining the wildest scenarios in which you ended up drowning every single time. 

You sat up in your bed, wrapping your thickest blanket tightly around your shivering frame before starting to make your way through the hallways of the ship, one destination in mind. You softly knocked on the door and your anxieties were instantly relieved a little by the voice that answered, telling you to come in. 

You pushed open the door, noticing your boyfriend already in bed, putting aside the book he was reading to curiously look at you coming in, still shivering, like a walking blanket burrito. “Y/n?” He raised a brow as you closed the door behind yourself and just walked up to him, getting on the bed and snuggling close. “Izo...it’s really cold and rainy.” You pouted slightly and he let out a chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re scared a storm can do something to a ship like the Moby Dick?” a hint of amusement apparent in his voice. “Don’t laugh at me. It’s the waves that make me anxious” 

“And you felt like walking here barefoot wrapped in a blanket would be your best way to win against the storm?”

You knew he was just teasing, so you chose just not to engage any further, unwrapping the blanket and putting it on top of his silk sheets to trap in more warmth before nestling yourself under the blanket with him. “I’m sleeping here tonight with you.” You didn’t even ask, knowing his answer would be yes anyway, and nuzzled into his chest, letting out a content sigh as a slightly evil plan formed in your brain. 

Izo had let you do these little actions, watching your determined moves with a small smile on his lips, at this time of day devoid of makeup, a sight not a lot of people saw. He had just wrapped his arm around you as you were finding your place, snuggled up against him in the bed, when you suddenly placed your ice cold feet on his leg. He gasped audibly. “Y/N!!” You chuckled. “that’s for making fun of me.” 

He gently flicked your forehead as you tucked your legs away, knowing your feet would soon warm up with the both of you tucked under the blankets. 

Even though the storm was still raging outside, the noise was now more of a background sound as you focused on Izo’s steady breathing instead and you felt yourself relax. You just managed to hug him a little closer before your eyelids grew too heavy to keep them open and you slipped away into a wonderful sleep.

#Izo x reader #One piece izo #Izo #Izo imagine #Izo scenario #drabble #one piece drabble #spooktober 2020 #spoopy with hazel #one piece fanfic #op fanfic #one piece reader insert #reader insert #fluff

[baby-grayson]

Kind Stranger|GBD|Part 10

Parts 1-9 word count: 6k 

tw: anxiety, angst, fluff, mature themes tags: @dolanpornhub @styles-dolan @evergreendolan @someonetogray @vintagedolan @prettyboydolan​ @dolansficsandpics​ @graysavant​ @baby-turtles​

Kathleen Monica Walker would cock her head to the side and lose herself in confused thoughts when the other little girls in her class would snicker and giggle about boys on the playground. Once, her childhood best friend, Tabby, pretended to marry her next-door neighbor while dressed in a Cinderella Halloween costume with a pillow-case veil. Kathleen was the maid of honor, donned in a yellow Easter dress with her short, black bob freshly brushed. Kathleen beamed at her best friend, soaking in the happiness of the moment, during their second-grade backyard wedding.

After a nervous, giggly kiss and a make-believe tea party, Tabby came to Kathleen. “Thank you for being here on my special day,” Tabby pushed her nose up as she talked, thinking it made her look more grown up.

Kathleen laughed heartedly, seeing through her friend’s ruse at age seven. “You look so pretty,” she gushed, admiring the tin foil twinkles under the netting of the Cinderella costume. “I do.” Tabby decided haughtily. Tabby wasn’t very good at making friends, they all found her theatrical; but Kathleen understood that Tabby was constantly performing the most climatic scene in the movie that was her life. “And one day, you’ll get married and I’ll be there for your special day” Tabby posed with her hands on her hips. Kathleen laughed, scrunching her nose into her face. She matched Tabby’s pose: putting her hands on her hips and angling her upper body, “Me? Married?” Kathleen put a mocking hand in front of her mouth, “I’ll get married when I run out of books to read.” Kathleen nodded her head in certainty.

At the time of that conversation, Kathleen was proudly working her way through the Ramona and Beezus series. A few years later, she promoted her collection to Harry Potter. Not soon after that, she plunged into the classics: Moby Dick, Little Women, Tom Sawyer, and Jane Eyre. Her love of pleasure reading transformed into deep dive into engineering textbooks and academic journals.

Staying true to her words at age seven, Kate kept herself busy with intellectual pursuits when over girls her age were obsessing over passing notes in class, kissing boys under the bleachers, and picking prom dresses.  She convinced herself frivolous relationships were not a natural part of her being: she was a creature of logic who had a deep appreciation for contemplative thought. In truth, her commitment to academic topics turned her into a late bloomer when it came to social situations. In her lack of development, she often fell inward: trusting her own intuition, facts, and reasoning above all else.

In the present moment, logic failed Kate. There was nothing logical about the look in Grayson’s eyes. There was nothing logical about the feeling his skin sparked against her fingers as she cupped his face. There was absolutely nothing logical about Grayson Dolan professing his love for her on the beach where they met as the sunset on a picturesque LA behind them.

Kate inhaled softly, never breaking Grayson’s gaze. Why did his eyes look so beautiful when they were a little wet? The gold flecks in his eyes twinkled like small reminders of the sunset behind them. His eyes played every word he ever said to her and every moment they ever shared. Out of all the beautiful things Grayson said to her, Kate had never fully expressed her appreciation for him.

She was awkward, not a natural people person. She was petite and disabled in a large, bustling world that was not made for her. She was hyper logical, in a world where emotions ran rampant around her. Grayson Dolan made her forget all of that. Grayson Dolan’s gold-flecked eyes felt like home.

A small sob got caught in Kate’s inhale when she tried to speak. Her eyes lashes fluttered, begging to hold onto Grayson’s gaze forever. She squeezed his one hand tightly, never wanting to let it go. She thumbed his cheekbone gently. With a breaking voice, she drew out, “I love you too.” They moved at the same time, crashing their lips together. Grayson grabbed her, pulling her small body close to his. Kate’s hand moved up to his hair, tugging gently at the locks that framed his face. Grayson’s heart beat made dauntless bounds; Kate recognized the rhythmic pattern against her chest. Grayson’s lips tasted like honey as his mouth moved gingerly against hers. Her sweet, citrus scent intoxicated his nostrils. She fit perfectly inside of his arms, made for him to just peer his head down and meet her lips. Grayson’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Every wound up emotion inside of him disintegrated as he channeled ever last ounce of energy into cherishing her. Grayson melted into the moment. He hands moved over her curves, wanting to commit every detail of his moment to memory. The shadows of her face were so close to his that he could breathe in her fragarance, and then her tongue was in his mouth. In truth, Grayson was not expecting her tongue: he only wanted to get drunk on the delight of feeling her plush mouth rest on his. But Grayson did not catch even a glimpse of her face, while Kate’s tongue made daring movements. She reached for him with every part of her being. Her tongue swept across Grayson’s mouth while his grip on her tightened, bringing her in as a part of him.

Grayson’s heart beat faster and faster, growing more intoxicated by her with each passing second. Together, their lips blossomed like a flower. Kate pulled away first, delicately moving her lips off of his. Grayson nestled his head lower, brushing the tip of his nose against hers: silently asking her for more. Grayson’s breathing slowed while the sound of the waves crashing on the shore slowly brought him back to reality.

Kate pulled back further, but keeping herself in Grayson’s arms. From her small stature, she tilted her face to look up at him. The gold flecks in his eyes reflected the sunset next to them. Kate exhaled slowly before drawing out, “But—”

Grayson’s heart fell. His eyes widened. He swallowed a large gulp in his throat. But? But what? There were not buts when you were in love. He loved her. She loved him. They loved each other. They were in love. There were no buts in love.

“We do need to talk,” Kate thumbed his shoulder slowly, “About how to make me a part of your life.”

Grayson nodded, more quickly than he intended to, “I want you to be a part of my life”.

“You were right, privacy is important to you,” she started, “But celebrating us is important to me. So let me tell my mom and my friends, just like you tell yours. “Grayson shifted his head to the side, a dubious shadow forming underneath his cheekbone. “We keep it off social media, the internet. Until you make the call that you’re ready for that.”  

Grayson nodded slowly, swallowing hard. His grip on her tightened as he found words. Although not a novice with women, Grayson was practically a virgin in the realm of conducting quality conversation to better a relationship. “I like that. But—” Was that the word of the day? “Can we just tell close friends? Both of us, not just you.” He licked his lips, “Trust is an important thing. But I think you’re right. Celebrating us is important to me too.” He brushed gently swept some of her hair behind her ear, “I want to celebrate you every day.” She smiled in a thin line up at him, her cheeks lifting. Grayson pulled her in again, kissing her sweetly. Kate left the smooch, with a wide smile and bright eyes. Grayson’s heart swelled. He could look at this scene forever: the woman he loved, dark tendrils swaying in the wind, bright smile, shiny eyes, surrounded by a beautiful California sunset on the beach.

Grayson’s heart swelled throughout the night. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and she was sitting on the other side of a beach towel eating a lettuce wrap. Grayson’s soul felt rejuvenated, better than it had felt in so long. Only a few weeks earlier, Grayson sat on that exact beach and wallowed in growing anxieties about his future, family, and the past. That evening, he sat on the beach with a wide smile and full heart.

He looked over his shoulder, admiring the way the waves hit the shore. He was reminded of the image of his mother, sister, and brother relaxing on that beach that came to him a few weeks ago. But this time, he saw a fourth figure in his imagination. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Kate’s dainty frame on the sand, helping Ethan build a sandcastle. Grayson would saunter back from the waves, board in hand, and place a quick, salty kiss on her lips before starting to dry himself off. In his heart, he placed her beside his most important people.

They were in love. With their picnic put away, the moon rose over their heads as the start of night fell over LA. Kate laid back on their towel, Grayson’s figure hovering over her. He kissed her sweetly, stopping every few minutes to run a hand through her hair. He kissed her again, mumbling something about how she was beautiful.

Kate kissed the tip of his nose sweetly. Grayson’s eyes closed in a peaceful state. She slipped a hand through his hair. Her body absorbed the warmth emanating from him. “I love you,” her voice was just above a whisper. Grayson’s eyes opened gently, to meet her adoring gaze. Grayson’s voice held a emphatic sureness, “I love you too.”

Grayson’s head bent down to meet her lips with his plush ones. He deepened their embrace when she pulled his body closer to her. Kate’s tongue gently slid across Grayson’s bottom lip, asking for permission. He opened for her and began to run his hands along her body. She clutched his back, dragging her fingers along the fabric of his shirt. Grayson fingered the hem of her skirt while he softly bit her bottom lip. She let out a small moan and drew in a breath. His hand slipped up her skirt and grabbed at her thighs.

Kate trapped his bottom lip between hers. One of her hands clutched a part of his shirt, crinkling the fabric against his back; while the hand got lost in his hair. Kate sucked on his bottom lip gently while Grayson’s hand climbed up her thighs before his thumb looped through the waist band of her panties. Grayson pulled back suddenly, realizing where he was.

He exhaled lowly and licked his lips, “Do you...I mean..would you?” Kate nodded softly, not needing him to finish, “Let’s go back to your place.”

Grayson had never packed a picnic so fast in his life. The second Kate finished her sentence, Grayson lifted off of her and began putting plates and cups back in the cooler they came from. He kept an arm around her as they walked up the beach, bending down occasionally to place stray kisses on her temple.

Kate wondered if her outward smile would ever match her inward one. Grayson made her want to wear a Cinderella costume and dance around in her backyard, like Taddy had done when they were seven. Grayson made her ever emotion leap in a whimsical euphoria.

Kate’s brow furrowed, not seeing Grayson’s van. She looked up at him curiously, “Did you drive here?” Grayson nodded and pulled a set of keys from his pocket, “Yeah.” He clicked a button on the keys and a black Porsche lit up from across the parking lot. Kate chucked to herself softly, “What happened to the van?” Grayson shrugged, blushing slightly, “I sold it” Kate shook her head softly, assuming fancy cars must be one of the perks of dating a guy like Grayson.

Grayson nearly broke the speed limit. The car ride back to his rental was spent with one hand firmly on Kate’s thigh, as he raced through the LA freeway, with Kid Cudi playing through his speakers. They shared the car ride: drunk and high off love and happiness.

Their love and happiness carried them across the threshold of Grayson’s rental. The white, beachy décor didn’t phase Kate this time because her focus was exacted on Grayson’s kiss. Somewhere between the living room and kitchen, Grayson fixed an arm under Kate’s knees and swept her off her feet. Kate giggled and let out a small “oop” but kept her lips on his. He reveled in carrying her to his bedroom: he adored how her small frame fit perfectly in his arms.

In a gentle movement, he laid her on his bed. It was there, in his bed, on that warm August night, that Grayson Dolan made love to Kathleen Walker for the first time.

**

Grayson’s eyes flickered open. He quickly shut them, afraid of the sting of the morning light. His mind was hazy from sleep and partially still drunk from the emotional high of last night. He tightened his grip, pulling his sleeping partner closer to him. He breathed in Kate’s sweet, citrus scent, slightly diluted in the smell of his sheets. With his eyes closed, he smiled wide. Kate let out a small snore and curled up inside of his arms.

Grayson kissed the top of her head, “I love you” he whispered. He loved her. Completely, utterly, and with all of his being. She was the soft to his tough. She was the smart to his dumb. She was everything he had ever hoped to find and more. To Grayson, love was waking up in his bed and smelling her sweet scent, hearing her gentle snores, feeling her body curled against him, tasting last night’s kisses mixed with sleep, and seeing her serene, angelic face dreaming next to him. To Grayson, this moment defined love. 

On that early morning, with just a few rays of light peering through the window, Grayson imagined what his mother would say she met Kate. He thought about what his father would like if he were still alive; the thought settled in Grayson’s mind as he squeezed his sleeping girlfriend once more.

This second squeeze unearthed a groan from Kate, who’s eyes were beginning to flutter open. Half asleep, she found Grayson’s smile before snuggling into his chest and wrapping her legs around his waist, “G’Morning.” How was her sleepy voice this cute? Grayson chucked and placed another kiss on the top of her head, “Good Morning Angel.” He stroked her bare shoulder with his rough hand. Kate removed her head from the crook of his neck and shook it softly, “No, not that one.” Grayson’s brows furrowed in confusion, his head tilted to the side. Kate explained, “Too religious. Not good for sexy time. But nice try.” She shrugged softly.

Grayson chucked and licked his lips, “I’ll keep trying.” He kissed her gently, hovering over her lips before pulling back. A wide smirk found his face, “I did like what you were calling me last night”

Kate’s face turned a humorous shade of red. She let out an exasperated giggle and shook her head. She bit her lip softly, suddenly aware of how intertwined her naked body was with Grayson’s. The heat from his chest emanated onto her skin.

Grayson seemingly became aware of this fact at the exact same moment, because one of his arms reached down to fondle her ass while the other reached into her hair, pulling her closer for a deep kiss. Kate responded by burying her fingers in his hair while wrapping a leg across his waist. Grayson gave her sleepy, sloppy kisses while his hands roamed her figure: memories from last night flooding his brain.

What happened next would go down in history as problematic.

Without looking, Grayson shuffled a condom off of his nightstand. He made quick work of putting it on and ravishing her. It wasn’t until he had finished that Kate felt an unfamiliar stream hit her body. She looked down, and Grayson followed her gaze to see his orgasm spilling out of her, onto his bed, and off of their broken condom.

They were still for a moment processing this. Kate moved first, shimmying herself away from him and picking up a pair of his sweatpants from the floor. “We need to go,” she grumbled looking for a shirt, “take care of this.” Grayson nodded and began finding his underwear from the floor. He always wanted to be a father, but not like this.

***

The CVS fluorescent lights beckoned the young couple in, like a treacherous refuge for their current dilemma. Kate moved swiftly, Grayson following right behind her. As they stepped over the pharmacy threshold, Grayson reached for Kate’s hand. Her supple skin felt clammy to his touch. A far part of Grayson’s mind called back to the silky, tender feeling of her skin under his last night. His memories of this morning were already tainted in wicked stains.

His heart hurt. His heart called out to her. His heart hung heavy in his chest with the weight of the morning. He eyed her figure, hurrying across the CVS entrance. Her usual confident stride was replaced with slump shoulders and a tense spine: something in this posture eventuated her limp. Her hair fell onto her shoulders in hectic, unruly mess. Grayson’s mouth pulled into a tight line; he couldn’t bare to see her this way. He wanted to do something for her. He wanted, so desperately, to make this better for her.

Grayson squeezed her hand gently and pulled her back toward him. He stopped her from continuing her furious saunter across the CVS. Kate looked up at him, her brows furrowed to the middle of her forward as she gave him a hard stare. He nodded at the display in front of him, his words came out slowly and softly “Do you want a snack or something? You didn’t eat breakfast..”

Kate’s eyes drooped at the sides. The jaw she hadn’t realized she had been clenching unwound and softened. She brushed a gentle thumb across the back of Grayson’s hand. He was sweet. At his core, he was sweet. And that’s why she fell in love with him. Kate nodded, “Yeah that’s a good idea.” Her words were an amalgamation of low breaths. She bit her lip softly while she reached out a hesitant hand to choose a bag of pretzel sticks. She held out the package, tentatively to Grayson. Grayson nodded softly and took the bag from her. He gave her a soft smile that shattered her in that moment. Kate felt tears well into her eyes as the gravity of the morning dug a stake in her heart. Grayson’s instinctively wrapped his arms around her, he buried his face in her hair. Her petite shape fit perfectly into his large frame.  He placed a few gentle kisses onto the top of her head. “It’ll be okay,” he squeezed her gently from within his embrace. He placed another kiss on the top of her and mumbled, “I promise it’ll be okay.”

Kate’s breathing steadied as she slowly pulled away from Grayson. She nodded and looked up at him, the gold flecks of his eyes still holding all the warmth of his hug. She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by an ear shattering screech.

From the other side of the aisle, a girl no older than 14 was invoking a jarring, piercing, harsh noise from within the depths of her throat. The uproar lacked the low bawl of pain, but embodied every trait of a frenzied, shrill call of adoration. The second Grayson recognized his own name in the girl’s scream was the same second Kate retreated from his personal space. She took a large step backward, nearly knocking her head on a Chapstick display.

Kate did not stick around. Grayson lingered in front of the snack aisle, trying to kindly, but quickly, appease his fan. Kate took large strides towards her desired aisle, not stopping to look for Grayson’s head. She frantically scanned different pill boxes, swallowing hard between breaths. She swiped a box from the shelf and bolted for the register.

From the other side of the store, Grayson surveyed his surroundings. The fan strolled along, elated with a picture and a conversation. Grayson’s eyes darted between ends of the store before locking on a scurrying mess of black hair.

Kate slammed her credit card down on the counter and tangled her hands in her hair. The girl at the register didn’t comment on her purchase. Kate exhaled and slightly thanked her for it. She reached into a cooler next to the register and picked up the top bottle of Gatorade, “Add this too” Kate remarked.

Grayson reached the registered as Kate crossed the threshold for the second time, hurrying into the parking lot. Even with her limp, Grayson struggled to catch up to her. He jogged slightly, trying to reach her side in the parking lot. As she approached his Porsche, he clicked his keys to open the door: still trailing her.

Kate swung the passenger door of Grayson’s Porshe open, without even thinking to tell him to unlock it. She heavily landed in the seat and began to fumble with the plastic bag. The bag erupted in a shrill raucous of noise while Grayson entered through the driver’s side of the car. He gulped hard: his teeth shook as uneasy streams of air passed between them. He should help her. He should say something. He should know what to do right now. Be a man Grayson, be a man.

Kate didn’t pay him any attention, having already torn through the plastic bag and in the process of frantically ripping the packaging open. The heat safe plastic broke into fragmented shards, piercing the back of her hand and inviting the smallest drip of blood. Kate let out rapid exhalations, using her teeth to get through the cardboard box and reveal a single, tiny white pill. She placed it in her hand, the stinging from the cut of the box fading into the background of her mind.

She felt faint. All of her blood rushed to her head. Her rapid exhalations gave way to shallow breaths.

Grayson stared: his eyes flickering between her and the pill.

Kate threw her head back. She cupped her mouth in her hand. She slipped the pill between her lips.

Kate’s head rested against the headrest while she spun the cap on the Gatorade bottle and flooded her mouth. She poured it into her mouth, letting it wash over every piece of her insides. She tried to feel for the pill in her mouth, but decided drowning it in Gatorade until it dived into her throat.

She lunched forward, coughing violently and spewing a gentle layer of Gatorade onto the dashboard of Grayson’s Porsche.  

She leaned back again, still reaching for breathes. The Gatorade bottle fell into Grayson’s cup holder as Kate’s small fingers relinquished it. She sat in a pile of plastic shreds, a broken cardboard box, a plastic CVS bag, and a bunch of splashed Gatorade in her boyfriend’s Porsche.

“I’m sorry,” Grayson’s voice escaped his lips as a frightful mew. He looked at Kate, her gaze staring off in the distance. He noticed the heavy way her chest heaved to pull in small breaths. His mind flashed back to some of his most trying moments. A younger Grayson didn’t believe in anxiety attacks: the current one knew them much too well. His lips pulled tight into his face, “I’m so sorry.” Kate’s pupils reached the edge of her eyes as she looked over at him. “Just-“ she heaved, “get us-“ she puffed our an exhalation-“home.”

The ride back to Grayson’s rental was fraught with a heavy, tense silence. Grayson longed for the feelings last night brought him: racing through the LA freeway with the radio playing and his hand firmly on Kate’s thigh. He glanced over at her; Kate’s small frame appeared be shrinking into his car seat. Grayson’s sweatpants and t-shirt draped over her body, and her unbrushed hair fell in messy tangles on her shoulders. She was still beautiful though; she was always beautiful. Grayson’s heart begged to see her round cheeks bounce into a wide smile for him.

Kate collapsed on Grayson’s couch soon after arriving. Grayson stood hesitantly in front of her, licking his lips and exhaling softly. Kate closed her eyes back and took her face in her hands, letting out a small groan. Grayson leaned against the arm of the couch, looking down at her, “I’m sorry for this morning.” He moved his hands outwardly while he talked, “I don’t know how it happened. It won’t—” “It’s fine Grayson,” Kate let out a small groan while she finished his name. She sat up slight, propping herself up to look at him. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Grayson’s heart stammered when he saw her eyes fill with tears. He leaned down on the couch, trying to put an arm around her. She swatted it away. He sat straight up, alarmed and going dry at the mouth.

Kate swung her legs around, sitting up before taking in a breath and standing. “I can’t do this Gray.” She looked at her feet, biting her lip and shaking her head. Grayson gnawed at his bottom lip, “Do what?” Kate let out a loud exhale and shook her head, still not looking him in the eye. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, “Us” her voice was barely a whisper, “I can’t do us Gray.” Grayson’s face fell. His eyes darted around the room: trying to find an answer where there wasn’t one. His tongue felt heavy and thick. He opened his mouth to speak and dragged it around his lips, “This scared me too…but …let’s not …do anything…” he bit his lip sharply between his teeth, “drastic.” His statement nearly sounded like a question. Kate shook her head quickly and furiously: as if she was trying to shake off a thousand spiders. “Did you see her in there?” She looked up at him now; Grayson’s mind went blank at the sight of large, dewy tears teasing the corners of her eyes. “That girl? Did you see her?” Grayson’s jaw clenched. He swallowed hard, suddenly becoming aware of the tightness in his chest. “What about her?” His voice was low, but steady.

This was clearly not the response Kate was looking for because she pulled her face into her hands and abruptly turned to face the door. She shook her head and let out an exasperated sound. She looked back at Grayson, tears flowing down her cheeks. “You don’t get it,” her throat played with chokes and sobs while she spoke, “It’s so easy to love you but so hard to love your world.”

“Being yours means submitting myself to being,” something like a depressed chuckle left her lips while she used air quotes “’Grayson Dolan’s girlfriend.”  She sat down on the coffee table, tugging at the hem of Grayson’s shirt. Her tears had become a steady river across her face, “You can’t go anywhere without being recognized, because you’ll always belong to millions of people: even when you belong to me. How can I be my own woman when I’ll be an extension of you purely because of what you do for a living?” Grayson chest constricted. His heart left his body, escaping the terrible moment. He held in breaths, keeping his jaw clenched. He wanted so desperately hold her and tell her he loved her.

Kate must have known what he was thinking because she continued with, “And I love you Grayson, I really do. But you’re asking me to be something that’s not myself. I’ve worked hard to get where I am! What?! Do you want me to throw it away?! You couldn’t be there for me this morning!” Her voice escalated to the point of screaming, “You couldn’t be there for me at all! And if you can’t spare a half hour to get me Plan B! What can I expect out of you!” A tear balled up on the side of Grayson’s eyes. “You can expect me to love you,” he was speaking without thinking now, “You can expect me to be proud of you. You can expect me to do everything I can when we’re together—” “Don’t give me that bullshit” Kate shook her head, his words drawing a knife through Grayson’s chest. “I know you think you can solve this with romance and affection, but this isn’t that kind of problem Grayson.” “THEN WHAT KIND OF PROBLEM IS IT?” Grayson held out his palms from where he sat on the couch. His eyes went wide, the single tear had evaporated into a stare of tumultuous pain.

Kate shook her head, “Your world wasn’t made for someone like me. Even though you were made for me.” Her voice wavered between crests of anger and troughs of sadness.

“You can’t give up on me the day after you tell me you love me.” Grayson’s body was stoic, his shoulders were square while he hands fell in his lap, but his voice held metric tons of sadness. His heart wanted to grow arms and hold her close.

“I do love you Gray,” Kate reached a handout to his, “I really love you.” Her voice was soft but exhausted. All of her energy had been depleted by screaming at him a few minutes earlier, “It’s just…” she searched for words in what must have been the longest thirty seconds Grayson ever experienced, “I’m being selfish because I’ve been in a relationship with myself for 22 years, and that comes before my relationship with you.” She squeezed his hands before pulling away from him, brushing tears from her eyes, “I wouldn’t like myself if millions of people saw me as an object” she said it like a cuss word “attached to you….I’m not giving up on you Grayson, I’m just choosing the person I want to be over the person I would hate to become.”

  A/N: If you’re one of the people who has been keeping up with all ten parts, I can not thank you enough! I love seeing your reactions after you post! I know this part had a lot, so please tell me what you loved and hated! 

#grayson dolan #fanfic #dolan twins #youtuber #romance #fluffy #angst #fanfiction #writing #story

[mamamittens]

Fireworks Encore (+18, G/N)

Sequel to Fireworks

AFAB version

Ace/Reader (G/N)

Warnings: Slow sensual sex, unprotected/vague sex, foreplay via massage, fingering, creampie, cockwarming, and aftercare.

Word Count: 1,657

You were wound up tight. Muscles tense and aching for relief from the rough past few days. Harsh conditions necessitating your help all around the ship until the navigators could get the Moby Dick out of the apparently tumultuous area. You’d nearly fallen overboard several times, slamming into damaged railing instead. So you were also bruised to hell and back.

But. You were all out of the rough patch of sea, everyone shoveling food from their plates before shuffling off to bed. And you planned on sleeping until you didn’t feel like shit. The food about as tasteful to your worn senses as stale water.

You stood up shakily, taking care of your plate before shuffling down the halls for a well-earned rest. You almost didn’t hear Ace coming up behind you.

“Oh, babe, you look rough.” Ace cooed, gently steering you down another hall towards his room. You blearily looked at him in confusion, nearly moaning as his natural warmth soaked into your worn body. His expression was soft as he kissed your cheek. “I wouldn’t keep you up for nothing, baby. I just thought you’d more than earned some lovin’.”

Ace opened his door and ushered you in before closing and locking the door behind him. Candles lighting instantly in the darkness until the room was covered in flickering shadows. You swayed, really wanting to collapse into the bed already, but you wanted to see what he had planned. You knew that if you did fall asleep right now, Ace would leave you alone. Your body aching to pass out already—his warm hands settled on the sides of your ribcage, your weight falling back against him easily.

Soft kisses settled over your neck and shoulders.

“You don’t have to… I know you’ve been up as long as I have…” You sleepily murmured against his hair. His teeth flashed against your delicate skin as he smiled wide.

“How could I sleep knowing my sweet, loving, baby is in such rough shape?” Ace asked softly, hands sliding down to the hem of your shirt before slowly lifting it up. Peeling it off like he thought it would hurt to go any faster, fingertips grazing over your skin leaving trails of heat. Ace pulled away from your aching shoulders only long enough to toss your shirt to the side.

His hands hovered over your exposed chest radiating heat, skimming your body with every deep inhale as you moaned. Your aches soothed with every pass as he started stroking your chest and hips. Soft, wet kisses running across your strained shoulders. With every pass of his lips and hands, you relaxed just a little bit more.

Ace hummed, slipping his fingers between your hips and pants, slowly forcing them down until they pooled at your feet. Hands steadying you as you kicked off your shoes and stumbled forward onto the bed. Ace chuckled, lifting you higher up the bed until only your shins and feet hung off the end. Licking down your tense back as you moaned into the blankets.

His hands grew more firm, kneading your muscles like he intended on gently fondling your bones with his hot fingertips. Rubbing circles down your shoulder blades and spine. Across the trembling expanse of your ribs and the soft area above your hips. The bed creaked as he kneeled above your thighs, the room growing hazy and warm.

You started to drift then, not quite sleeping as you kept moaning and gently squirming under Ace’s attentive touch.

“You make such cute sounds for me, baby.” Ace whispered as he pressed his lips above the dip of your spine. Kissing softly as he fondled your ass in his hot palms.

Ace spread them apart with his thumbs as his body heat slid down further, his breath hot between your cheeks as he chuckled. He blew a teasing breath and your thighs clenched, Ace laughing softly as he pulled back.

“What does my hard-working baby need?” Ace asked huskily. “Hands or…?”

You couldn’t hold back the low keen as you weakly lifted up your hips.

“Anything~” You murmured into the blanket, grasping it in your hands as you shifted restlessly despite your exhaustion.

Ace chuckled low in his throat, slowly leaning on top of you, his naked body like a hot compress to your aching muscles.

“With. Pleasure.” Ace rumbled into your ear, a soft click echoing in the space before a slick, hot hand slid between your thighs. You panted, moaning as his warm fingers teased your. Slipping in to work you open. You could feel his cock burning against your thigh as he licked at your neck, nipping the skin until you turned your head towards him.

Ace kissed you eagerly, tongue a slow slide over your lips as he messily pushed deeper. Eating up your keening moan as you melted beneath him. Aching muscles trembling as he crooked his fingers and spread them apart. His other hand slid underneath you and teased your sex. Rubbing into the dampness you started leaking profusely.

You came with a soft whine around his tongue, drenching his awaiting hands as he kept going. Faster. Harder. Intent on making you completely boneless underneath him.

You tried moaning his name, but found it hard with his lips and tongue still on yours. Breathing hot and heavy as your worn body tensed with a mix of pain and pleasure.

Just as you were about to cum again, Ace pulled away. Lips pecking your cheek as he grabbed your hips and tilted your ass up, lining his cock between your thighs.

You moaned, low and loud as he slid into place slowly. Cock hot and thick enough to make you ache in a new way, your thighs trembling as he pulled back. Ass following the motion from how tightly you fit together until he squeezed your hips, pinning you in place to nearly pop out. Thick head just barely in place as he panted.

“Relax. Let me do all the work, baby.” Ace whispered against your lips, eyes like hot iron in the soft darkness of his room. You let go of all the tension in your body, trusting him to keep you in place completely. “F-fuuuck just like that, baby~ mmnh~!” Ace whined before slowly slotting his hips against your ass, filling you up again.

Slowly pulling his hot cock from your pliant body only to give it all back again as you whimpered and moaned.

“Been dreaming of this for days.”

“So sweet to me when I don’t deserve it~ haaahnn~!”

“Perfect and relaxed on my cock… yeah, you’ve earned this. Just take it~”

“Let me see how good it feels, you’re moaning so sweetly I could do this for hours~ you want that? Fucked underneath me for hours~?”

Ace babbled between open kisses as you whined, tension seeping from your body as you grew hot and weak underneath him. He never faltered or slowed in his pace. Cock unrelentingly rocking into you as sweat beaded between your bodies.

Your orgasm crested slowly, winding up your aching muscles and tensing in your chest before it burst. Leaving you to fall completely boneless in Ace’s hands as he kept going, rocking deeper into you with heavy pants.

“A-A-Aaaaace—ahn~! P-Please!” You whined weakly, swallowing hard as you grew dizzy between the heat and exhaustion.

“Yeah, baby? What do you need?” Ace whispered hoarsely, moaning as you clenched onto him harshly.

“M-More~” You moaned. Ace’s teeth flashed, sharp in the low light as he hissed.

“Anything my baby asks for~” Ace licked into your panting lips as his wet hips slapped against the back of your thighs. Going harder and faster, winding you up like the heat in your chest demanded.

Your breath came in sharp, rapid pants, keens breaking moans as the sound of wet sex grew louder. More frequent as Ace gave you exactly what you asked for.

“Ah-aah-hahhn~! Oh! Oh! A-A-Ace—ooohhhh~!” You trembled hard, Ace nipping your wet, abused lip with a snarl as his cock throbbed.

“Anything my baby deserves~” Ace hissed as you screamed hoarsely, body snapping into a tense arch underneath his assault as he slammed against your ass. Cock throbbing as his hot cum squirted out from between your walls and running down your thighs.

You keened, sobbing with pleasure as you shook violently. Ace’s body heating up against your back as he slowly laid down across your body. Hands rubbing your sides in gentle, soothing motions as he panted and praised you. His voice obscured by the harsh ringing in your ears. Rocking his hips slowly to ride out the last waves of your violent orgasm and his own.

“—beautiful. There we are, come back to me now, baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Ace whispered from behind you. You were laying on your side now, his cock still heavy inside you as you caught your breath. “With me now, baby?” Ace kissed your shoulder.

“…mmmm-yeah.” You whispered sleepily, turning your head to kiss him. “…bed now?” You asked, thoroughly boneless against him.

Ace chuckled.

“Yeah, baby. Bed now.” Ace slowly pulled out until his cock slipped in the wet mess between your thighs. He got out, chuckling at your pathetic whine as he went to the bathroom. Returning only moments later with a hot rag.

Gently, he lifted your thigh up to clean up the mess. Kissing your now damp but clean skin lovingly. He glanced at the source of the mess with a faint, longing smile.

You moaned, aware of what he was thinking but too tired to pursue it.

Ace flashed his teeth in a smile.

“Later.” Ace promised, kissing your thigh again before sliding into bed next to you. Blanket pulled up to your shoulder as you cuddled up against his side.

You fell asleep quickly to the low sound of Ace praising you between soft kisses to your head.

#one piece #one piece smut #fire fist ace #ace x reader #ace smut #not quite pleased with the picture cause the highlight makes his back muscles look.... weird #but oh well

[fire-fist-ann]

Snow filled heart

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY WINTER CHILD!!! @simp4ace I hope you like it!!

The day started quietly on the moby dick until a loud " Y/N Y/N!" a familiar voice yelled waking y/n out of their slumber. Y/n groaned before looking over at the time. " ace it's 4 in the morning" I know but you need to get up hurry!" he said shaking them. Y/n deadpanned wiping the sleep from their eyes.  " okay okay I,m getting up" they said pulling the covers off of their body. Ace grinned widely like a mad man " get dressed I, ll be right outside! dress warm firefly!" He said loud before he ran out of the room. " what was that about" y/n mumbled as they shuddered feeling a chill.

Y/n once they got dressed in nice warm clothes and their boots, they walked out. Y/n saw ace bouncing in place pretty much " come on!" he said grabbing their arm leading more like dragging them along him. " ace!" y/n whined " what is with you?" they asked before ace stopped at the door to the deck. ace gave a lopsided grin " I have a surprise for you, close your eyes for me please?" y/n shook their head before shutting their eyes " all alright I,m all yours".

Ace moved his hands over their eyes before he opened the deck door. He gently guided them to the middle " hey y/n do you remember how you told me you have never seen snow before" yeah?" he lifted his hands away " open your eyes babe". Y/n eyes snapped open they let out a gasp upon seeing the pure white blanket cast over the whole deck and ship. They looked up at the falling snowflakes as they landed in their hair and on their clothes.  Y/n took a step the snow crunching under their feet as they looked around eyes wide in pure wonder and joy.

Ace couldn't help but to admire the look on their face, they looked so beautiful covered in snow like this he almost felt guilty for what he had in mind...well almost. Ace slowly rolled snow into a perfectly shaped ball. His onyx eyes lit up with mischief before he swung his arm back making a direct hit, with the back of their head. " bullseye!" he cheered before y/n snapped their head around. " Ace!" he raised his hands in defense " you know I couldn't help myself!" he cried out as y/n grabbed a clump of snow and started to throw it at him hitting his face.

ace wiped the snow from his eyes " oh so that's how you want to play firefly?" he said.  Before he started leaning down making snowballs as y/n ducked behind a barrel for defense. Y/n bit their lip rolling the clumps of snow this was war now. The air was quiet as the couple stockpiled before ace made the first move. Y/n and ace started throwing back snowballs at each other. Ace got up still throwing snow spotting one of y/n legs hiding behind the barrel. Ace snuck up not making a sound before he grabbed y/n leg and dragged them out. y/n let ut a scream throwing snow right at aces face.

Ace burst out laughing wiping snow from his eyes before he leaned over their hands right next to their head. Ace grinned looking down at them, their hair around them in the snow, a red tint to their cheeks, Ace pressed his forehead against theirs " did you like your surprise firefly?". Y/n moved their hands cupping his cheeks up " I loved it ace, I wish we could stay out here but I,m getting a bit cold, can we get some hot cocoa?"

Ace lip's curled up into a playful smirk as he moved one of his hands resting n y/n hips sneaking it up the hem of their coat slipping it under their shirt. Ace leaned down his lips brushing their ear " I think I could warm you up in different ways"

@cyborg-franky @secretsnailor @dxvilmanlev

#portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #one piece #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #whitebeard pirates #simp

[lo-55]

Lost Things Ch. 1

When Ace died his body disappeared in a flash of red fire. Years later an injured Marco stumbles across someone he thought was dead.

The Lost

Marco liked to think that, with all of his experience as a pirate and all of the battles he had seen in his life, he didn’t fall for the same trick twice. And indeed, it wasn’t the same trick. It was some new idea the Marine’s had had at some point, when they decided that they really wanted to make Marco miserable.

At first, he thought it was just a canon. Those were common on ships, and this one was no exception. There were at least 15 canons on the ship that the Marine’s had turned to face the small vessel that he sailed (Alone, these days, after the disastrous attempt on Teach’s life) towards the winter island. Marco had taken to the sky, intent on avoiding being hit, and for the most part it worked. He dodged all of the canon balls, though his ship didn’t fair as well.

He watched it sink, sad for the small skiff. It was no Moby Dick, but it carried him well.  

That was his mistake. That split second of being distracted was all it took something to come hurtling through the air at him.

He saw the glint of metal an instant before something slammed into his throat. Cold washed over him, his wings vanished and the fire went out, inside and outside of his body. Marco was sent flying, plummeting out of the sky and towards the earth.

He choked, scrabbling at the seastone wrapped around his throat. Blood slithered down his back, staining his shirt. Something pierced his chest with cold pain. More seastone.

He fell, into the dark grey clouds that covered the island. Down, through the freezing condensation, with the snow that floated so gently around him he dropped through the air with the grace of a boulder.

He twisted, trying desperately to rip the collar off of his throat. He saw white, snow piled high beneath him, coming in fast. Too fast, he ripped at the metal, tore into his own skin and shouted into the screaming wind around his ears.

He hit the ground. Everything went white.

~

It was white when he woke up. His ears were ringing, his neck burned and his chest was screaming at him. Everything hurt. Everything was cold, a cold that sunk deep into his bones, chilling his whole body.

It called to him, a deathly whisper to let go of the fire that flickered inside of him and succumb. To join his father and his fallen brothers.

On shaking legs, Marco stood.

The white snow was dyed red with his own blood, seeping steadily out of his chest. He couldn’t tell if everything was blurry because he had lost so much blood or if it was because of the snow storm he had crashed into.

He stumbled forwards, the snow up to his knees impeding him. Every step he had to take was a fight to put one foot in front of the other. He nearly collapsed at ten steps, but managed to grab a tree to hold himself up. He was breathing hard, cold air burning hard in his lungs. He could breath, but only barely.

Marco slugged another step, then another. He didn’t know where he was going but he knew he couldn’t stay where he was. He couldn't afford to stay in the snow, in the cold, out in the open where anyone might find him.

Where the Marine’s might find him.

His eyes, usually half lidded anyhow, slipped further shut. The white grew behind them. The ringing in his ears turned static. Marco pushed himself to go further. He couldn't stop. He couldn't afford to stop.

He stumbled, suddenly, away from the trees and into a clearing. There was a light, warm, yellow, flickering in the air ahead. The phoenix pushed himself towards it, too cold now to feel anything at all. The snow was lower here, even though the trees weren’t around to cover the ground.

A path, his sluggish brain supplied. I found a path.

He was beyond the point of shaking when he finally got close enough to see that the flickering yellow light was a candle set into a window. A cabin, he realized, in the middle of the snowy woods. Marco brought a hand he could no longer feel to the wooden door and knocked weakly. He couldn't even hear his own strike.

The pirate fell forwards, his head hitting the wood, his shoulder catching the door frame. Things had started to spin and blur again. The hope he felt for the little light faded into the frigid invasion of his bones.

His eyes started to close. Was this is it? Would he really freeze to death on a stranger's doorstep? What would Pops say to that?

The door opened suddenly, and Marco pitched inside. He heard a yelp, startled and strangely familiar, though he couldn't place why, before hands grabbed him by his shoulders.

“Hey! Hey! Are you okay? What are you doing out here in the storm, are you cra- oh god, is that blood?!”

Marco knew that voice. He knew he knew that voice.

The phoenix lifted his head, forcing his eyes to see beyond the black coat and the thick white scarf. Up, past the strong jaw and the freckles, splattered across the face, to the black eyes that he knew so well.

“Ace,” his voice was harsh with cold and blood that had been creeping up from his chest. The man stood before him, brows furrowed. Marco couldn't take anymore after that. It was too much for his body, too much for his aching, broken heart.

His legs gave out and the phoenix fell into white oblivion.

~

When he woke up he was warm. Warmer, in any case. The bone deep cold brought about by the seastone collar around his neck. His chest still hurt, but less now.

At first, Marco didn’t move. The pain of breathing was proof enough that he wasn’t dead. A good sign, probably. Marco opened his eyes, slowly. The white had left his vision, in its place was brown. Wooden planks cross over his head, fitted together. A lantern hung from the ceiling nearby.

Marco sat up, slowly, wincing at the pull on his chest. At least the bullet didn’t seem to be inside of him. That was a good sign. That didn’t stop his head from spinning and his stomach from trying to shove itself into his throat.

He made a face before looking to the left and finding a stone wall. They weren’t brick, they weren’t uniform. They were fitted together but the sizes were uneven. Not made by a professional. His eyes left the wall, cross the hatched quilt spread across his lap. A sun smiled at him with dark glasses. The floor was wood, same a the ceiling. There weren’t corners, the house was a circle, and only one room. He could see the front door, and the blood he had no doubt left on the floor in front of it.

There was a burning wood stove, and beside it a man with wavy black hair was stirring a pot. The owner of the house. Marco had dreamt that it had been Ace whose house he found. He could smell the food from across the room, some kind of stew. The table only had one chair. The house was surprisingly sparse for such a small home.

Marco couldn’t find any pictures or personal touches. In fact the only parts that seemed to indicate the kind of person that lives there was the quilt and the long black coat hanging by the door. The house had no memories, no personality.

Marco reached to touch his ribs, finding the hole that had been there before had been covered by thick bandages. His shirt had been taken away at some point. His fingers slid up to his neck, where the seastone still choked him. He could feel the bruise forming underneath it, the skin delicate and painful. Around it were burning scratches from Marco’s frantic attempts to free himself.

Now that his head was a little clearer and he was out of the woods Marco had the sense to feel around the collar, the metal wrong under his fingers. There was a hing for it that bumped along the front, where it had impacted his throat. Along the back he found a crack that ran its length, and a keyhole.

“Oh,” the familiar voice came back, striking Marco right between the ribs. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Footsteps crossed the room and Marco forced his eyes up, to the face he knew he’d dreamt before passing out. His breath left him again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Ace,” he barely breathed the name. He looked up at the face, freckles and dark, fathomless eyes. His hair was longer, down to his shoulders now, and whatever baby fat he’d had before was gone now. Even with two more years on him, that was a face that Marco had ached to see for two long, long years.

Perfect lips turned downwards into a frown.

“You called me that before. I’m sorry but, do you know me?”

That stopped Marco’s thoughts. Did he know him? Of course he knew him! He was Ace, the Fire Fist, the Second Division Commander. He was Marco’s brother, his lover, he was the one they had all gone to war for. He was the one they would have torn the world asunder to rescue. The one that they failed.

Instead of voicing all of these thoughts he asked, “You are Ace, aren’t?”

The man ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. The gesture was enough to make Marco’s pulse change. Had he really missed Ace so much that such a simple gesture could do that?

“Well um, truthfully sir, I don’t know.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #marco the phoenix #portgas d. ace #ace x marco

[bonscottintheimpala]

Can I make a request if it’s still open?💖what about something like y/n wants to seduce jimmy in the most effective way but she’s lost and asks other members of Led Zeppelin to give her tips and carry them out?😂 the result could be anything, like, some in vein others did great jobs, or he finds the attempts adorable, or he gets jealous or anything.

I think I did this already, so I'll copy and paste. 🙂

-

Moby Dick Is A Wonderful Song

(Word count: 1,567) EXPLICIT

-

You're with the band at the venue in Inglewood. It's March 27, the night of the band's final concert of the ‘75 tour. Tensions are pretty high in their dressing room; you can almost feel the anxiety and simultaneous excitement thick in the air. But, sitting on a sofa in the middle of the dressing room, you're distracted from the loud voice of Peter Grant shouting the time left before the show starts and Bonzo clashing on a tabletop by one very specific thing in the room.

Jimmy had come in slightly late, already wearing his dragon suit bottoms but not the top. And, of course, he had decided to put the intricately embroidered jacket on after you came into the room with Robert ten minutes earlier. You can't take your eyes off of the lean muscles moving over his shoulders as he takes off his shirt, tensing and relaxing when he replaces it with the dragon suit top. You jump when someone bumps your shoulder, and turn to find Robert giving you a knowing smirk.

"You aren't being very vague about that, (Y/N),” he teases, “If he was looking over here he'd tell that you were checking him out.”

You roll your eyes and smack him on the arm. “Shut up, Rob. If he was looking over here, I wouldn't be watching his back and dying about it. And besides, he doesn't really give off the air of being interested.”

“I've known him for a while. Trust me, (Y/N), he can look like he isn't interested even if he's just itching to get with someone.”

You sigh and turn back to Jimmy. He's sitting in a chair in the far left corner of the dressing room with his Les Paul in hand, tuning the strings carefully as not to break one. You notice his eyes flicker up to look at you for a fraction of a second, then he's back to his guitar. You know that Robert's right. You've only really known the band for two years, and Percy has been around Jimmy for a little over six. You're pretty sure the singer knows his bandmate well enough by now to understand how the guitarist works. Robert nudges you again to get your attention. The smirk is back on his face.

"I have an idea to see if he's into you. We try to be really cuddly and all that shit around him. Hopefully it annoys him enough to get him to do something.”

You raise an eyebrow, questioning the proposition. “Won't he think that I like you that way, though?”

Percy waggles his finger at you. “Yet another thing to tell you. If he wants someone and they don't seem interested, he'll end up letting them know that he's the interested one. Again, (Y/N), I've known him for a while.”

Yet another point well made. “Okay, then. How do we go about this? Just pretend that you're saying something risque to me and I laugh like a fucking idiot?”

"Exactly. Then at Moby Dick, you come back here and best case scenario he follows you, too.”

The plan seems to be working perfectly, because after a few moments of exchanging stories to make you laugh and Robert puts an arm around you, he brings his mouth closer to your ear. “Don't look now, but Jimmy just stared at me like he wanted to kill me. So safe to say it’s going very well.”

You nod. “So I’ll come back here right before Moby Dick?”

"It’d be a good idea to go back earlier. Maybe when he starts his solo during Trampled Underfoot. I'll tell him where you'll be and I'm sure he's going to come straight here.”

The two of you just knowingly smile at each other. Jimmy is actually into you.

-

It feels like ages until the solo of Trampled Underfoot finally starts. You and Robert had secretly decided on a signal for you to go back to the dressing room; he'd do his usual hair flip, but follow it instantly with a spin. Which, of course, was not exactly a major surprise. You've been watching the singer since there song started, hardly even blinking. Once he gives the signal, you practically run for the dressing room, but not before you just catch Jimmy looking at you as you do.

The wailing of Jimmy's guitar slowly fades when you get closer to the room, and it's completely silent once the door is closed behind you. It's kind of eerie; the lack of people and no hint of music gives you goosebumps that make you shiver. It's either that, or the anticipation of Jimmy hopefully joining you, but it's almost impossible to tell which. You lounge on the sofa where you had been sitting with Robert at least an hour and a half -maybe even two hours- earlier. Staring up at the ceiling is all you can really think of doing other than just pacing around.

If I'm just walking everywhere looking at things like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, I'll look like a dumbass, you think to yourself as you keep your ears trained on the hallway outside, listening for any hint of footsteps that could be coming close. And then, after what seems like hours have passed, you can faintly hear the sound of someone almost sprinting down towards the dressing room door. Your heart starts to pound in your chest the louder they get, and it all comes to a stop when the door opens. Standing there, his long black hair sticking to his sweat soaked face, is James Patrick fucking Page.

Neither of you say anything for a minute, just stare at each other with wide eyes. Jimmy’s the first to talk.

“So…. Percy told me you’d be back here.”

"And did he say why?”

The guitarist steps forward so he can close the door behind him, still watching you. “He did. You two were pretty fucking sly about all that.” You stand up and can’t keep your breath from shaking as he gets closer and stands in front of you. “He didn’t, however, say exactly what the reason was for you to be back here.”

"I guess he thought it’d be nice to give us some time together. To just confirm if you actually do like me.”

"Do you think I’d be here if I didn’t? And after all,” he adds, his voice now slipping into a smooth and sweet tone that makes your breath hitch, “You know exactly what Bonzo’s drum solo gives time for. And which is why Rob will come here to let us know when it’s getting time for me to go back so I don’t miss anything.”

You nod before you start to move the dragon suit top from his shoulders with shaking hands. He notices because he asks, “Are you really sure you want to do this, (Y/N)?”

You laugh. “You have no idea how much. I'm mostly shaking because I'm so surprised you even came here.”

Jimmy holds your face. “We’ve taken up five minutes.” Your stomach goes light and your head seems to be an incoherent mess of thousands of words when Jimmy presses his lips to yours. The contrasting textures between his fingers is just as intense; the rough calluses on the fingertips of right hand tingle your skin as they trail up your spine under your shirt, while the opposite smooth of his left hand slide gently along your lower back.

It isn’t long until everything gets heavier. Your clothes are strewn on the rug covered concrete floor below the sofa, while Jimmy is on top of you with his hand between your legs. It’s obvious that he’s extremely skilled in the art of fingering, and you’re convinced without a doubt that it’s because of how much he’s played guitar.

He’s drawing out loud cries of his name from your mouth and has your legs shaking from the flow of sharp vibrations down from somewhere deep in your core that make the muscles below your stomach pulsate at a steadily faster pace.

And then everything is surging in strong waves out from the spot his fingers are inside of you and through your entire body.

The trembling that follows each flow of energy through you eases down to just intermittent aftershocks and then completely breathless relaxation that leaves your head light and eyes closed. You can’t help but only smile and sigh as Jimmy kisses you again with a sweet softness which makes your heart flutter. The guitarist turns his head towards the door as a knock echoes from the other side.

“Bonzo’s gonna be done in probably five minutes, Pagey, you should get in order and backstage as quick as possible.”

"Okay, Percy, I’ll be out in a bit.”

You open your eyes to look back up at him. “I think I’m actually calmed down enough to tell you that you’re very good with your fingers. Absolutely fucking incredible, I couldn’t even think straight for I don’t even know how long.”

Jimmy kisses your forehead before getting off of you and starting to redress. “And you’re quite loud, (Y/N). I’m glad I could satisfy so well.”

You sit up and pick your clothes up off the floor and begin to get somewhat presentable. “Would it be possible to continue after the concert back at the hotel?”

Jimmy shrugs the dragon suit top back on. “I think that’s a great idea that I will agree with. Now let’s get back to everyone else. And make sure to stay calm until we’re at the hotel.”

#buying the stairway queue heaven #led zeppelin #jimmy page #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fan fic #jimmy page fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #jimmy page x reader #smut #oneshot #oneshot requests

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 11 paragraph ix

The Purple Cow was on an untravelled one-way street just wide enough for a car to go through. All the other businesses around—pharmacy, bakery, bike shop—were shut tight, everything but an Indonesian restaurant on the far end. Shirley Temple let us off out front. On the opposite wall, graffiti: smiley face and arrows, Warning Radioactive, stenciled lightning bolt with the word Shazam, dripping horror-movie letters, keep it nice! I looked in through the glass door. The place was long and narrow, and— at first glance—empty. Purple walls; stained glass ceiling lamp; mismatched tables and chairs painted kindergarten colors and the lights low except for a grillside counter area and a lighted cold case glowing in back. Sickly house plants; signed black-and-white photo of John and Yoko; bulletin board shaggy with leaflets and flyers for satsangs and yoga classes and varied holistic modalities. On the wall was a mural of the Tarot arcana and, in the window, a flimsy computer-printed menu featuring a number of Everett-style wholefoods: carrotsoup, nettlesoup, nettlemash, lentil-nutspie—nothing very appetizing, but it made me remember that the last honest-to-God, more-than-a-few-bites meal I’d eaten had been the take-out curry in bed back at Kitsey’s. Boris saw me looking at it. “I am hungry too,” he said, rather formally. “We will go get a really good dinner together. Blake’s. Twenty minutes.” “You’re not going in?” “Not yet.” He was standing slightly to the side, out of view of the glass doors, looking up and down the street. Shirley Temple was circling the block. “Don’t be here talking to me. Go with Victor and Gyuri.” The man who sloped up to the glass door of the cafe was a scrawny, sketchy, twitchy-looking guy in his sixties, with a long narrow face and long freak hair past his shoulders and a peaked denim cap straight from Soul Train 1973. He stood there with his ring of keys and looked past Victor to me and Gyuri and seemed undecided whether to let us in. His close-set eyes, his brushy gray eyebrows and his puffy gray moustache gave him the look of a suspicious old schnauzer dog. Then another guy appeared, much much younger and much much bigger, half a head taller even than Gyuri, Malaysian or Indonesian with a face tattoo and eyepopping diamonds in his ears and a black topknot on the crown of his head that made him look like one of the harpooners from Moby Dick, if one of the harpooners from Moby Dick had happened to be wearing velvet track pants and a peach satin baseball jacket.

The old tweaker was making a call on his mobile. He waited, his eyes cagily on us the whole while. Then he made another call and turned his back and walked away into the depths of the lunchcafe, talking, palm pressed to cheek and ear in the manner of a hysterical housewife while the Indonesian stood in the glass door and watched us, unnaturally still. There was a brief exchange and then the old tweaker returned and with wrinkled brow and seeming reluctance began fumbling with the key ring, turning the key in the lock. The minute we were in he began yammering to Victor Cherry and throwing his arms about, while the Indonesian strolled over and leaned against the wall with his arms folded, listening. Some disturbance, definitely. Discomfort. What language were they speaking? Romanian? Czech? What it was about I had not a clue but Victor Cherry seemed cold and annoyed while the old gray-head tweaker grew more and more agitated—angry? no: irritable, frustrated, wheedling even, a whine climbing in his voice, and all the time the Indonesian kept his eyes on us with the unsettling stillness of an anaconda. I stood about ten feet away and— despite Gyuri, with moneybag, pressing in on me much too close—put on a self-consciously blank expression and pretended to examine the signs and slogans on the wall: Greenpeace, Fur-Free Zone, Vegan Friendly, Protected by Angels! Having bought enough drugs in enough dodgy situations (cockroach apartments in Spanish Harlem, piss-smelling stairwells in the St. Nicholas projects), I knew enough not to be interested, since—in my experience anyway—transactions of this nature were mostly the same. You acted relaxed and disengaged, didn’t talk unless you had to and spoke in a monotone when you did, and—as soon as you got what you came for—left. “Protected by angels, my ass,” said Boris, in my ear, having sidled up noiselessly on my other side. I said nothing. Even all these years later, it was all too easy for us to fall into the habit of whispering with our heads together like in Spirsetskaya’s class, which seemed like not a good dynamic in the situation. “We are on time,” said Boris. “But one of their men has not shown. That is why Grateful Dead here is so jumpy. They want us to wait till he comes. It is their own fault for changing the meeting place so often.” “What’s going on over there?” “Let Vitya handle it,” he said, poking his shoe at a desiccated furball on the floor—dead mouse? I thought, with a start, before realizing it was a chewed-up cat toy, one of several strewn across the floor beside a clumped and piss-darkened cat tray which lay half-hidden, turds and all, at the base of a table for four. I was wondering how a dirty cat tray placed where diners were likely to step in it was possibly convenient in terms of food-service logistics (not to mention attractive, or healthful, or even legal) when I realized the talking had stopped and the two of them had turned to Gyuri and me—Victor Cherry, the old tweaker with a wary expectant look, stepping forward, his eyes darting from me to the bag in Gyuri’s hand. Obligingly Gyuri stepped forward, opened it, set it down with a servile bow of his head, and stepped away for the old guy to look at it. The old guy peered in, nearsightedly; his nose wrinkled. With some peevish exclamation he looked up at Cherry, who remained impassive. Another obscure exchange ensued. The grayhair seemed discontented. Then he closed the bag and stood up and looked at me, eyes darting. “Farruco,” I said nervously, having forgotten my last name and hoping I would not be required to produce it. Cherry gave me a look: the papers.

“Right, right,” I said, reaching in the top inside pocket of my jacket for the bank draft and the deposit slip—unfolding them, in what I hoped was a casual way, checking them out before I handed them over— Frantisek. But just as I was extending my hand—bam, it happened like a gust of wind that blows through the house and slams a door loudly in a direction where you aren’t expecting it—Victor Cherry stepped fast behind the grayhair and whacked him on the back of the head with the pistol butt so hard his cap flew off and his knees buckled and down he went with a grunt. The Indonesian, still in his wall-slouch, seemed as startled by this as I was: he stiffened, our eyes connected in a sharp what the fuck? jolt that was almost like a glance between friends, and I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t moving away from the wall until I looked behind me and saw to my horror that Boris and Gyuri both had guns on him: Boris neatly resting the butt of the pistol in the cup of his left palm and Gyuri, one-handed, with the bag of money, backing out the front door. Disconnected flash, someone flitting from the kitchen in back: youngish Asian woman—no, a boy; white skin, blank frightened eyes sweeping the room, Ikat print scarf, long hair flying, just as quickly gone. “Someone’s in back,” I said rapidly, looking around, every direction, room wheeling around me like a carnival ride and heart beating so wildly I couldn’t make the words come out quite right, I wasn’t sure if anyone heard me say it —or if Cherry heard, at any rate, since he was hauling the grayhair up by the back of his jeans jacket, catching him in a chokehold, pistol at his temple, screaming at him in whatever Eastern-European tongue and jostling him to the rear as the Indonesian un-slouched himself from the wall, gracefully and carefully, and looked at Boris and me for what seemed like a long time. “You cunts are going to be sorry for this,” he said quietly. “Hands, hands,” said Boris cordially. “Where I can see them.” “I don’t got a weapon.” “Right there anyway.” “Right you are,” said the Indonesian, just as cordially. He looked me up and down with his hands in the air—memorizing my face, I realized with a chill, image straight to data file—and then he looked at Boris. “I know who you are,” he said. Submarine glow of the fruit juice cooler. I could hear my own breath going in and out, in and out. Clang of metal in the kitchen. Indistinct cries. “Down, if you please,” said Boris, nodding at the floor. Obligingly the Indonesian got to his knees and—very slowly—stretched himself full length. But he didn’t seem rattled or afraid. “I know you,” he said again, voice slightly muffled. Fast darting movement in the corner of my eye, so fast I started: a cat, devil black, like a living shadow, darkness flying to darkness. “And who am I then?” “Borya-from-Antwerp, innit?” It wasn’t true that he didn’t have a weapon; even I could see it bulging at his armpit. “Borya the Polack? Giggleweed Borya? Horst’s mate?” “And so if I am?” said Boris genially.

The man was silent. Boris, tossing the hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head, made a derisive noise and seemed about to say something sarcastic but just then Victor Cherry came out of the back, alone, pulling what looked like a set of flexcuffs out of his pocket—and my heart skipped to see, under his arm, a package of the correct size and thickness, wrapped in white felt and tied with baker’s twine. He dropped a knee in the Indonesian’s back and began to fumble with the cuffs at his wrists. “Get out,” said Boris to me, and then, again—my muscles had locked up and hardened; he gave me a little push—“Go! get in the car.” Blankly I looked around—I couldn’t see the door, there wasn’t a door— and then there it was and I scrambled out so fast I slipped and nearly fell on a cat toy, out to the Range Rover puffing at the curb. Gyuri was keeping watch out front, on the street, in the light drizzle which had just begun to fall—“In, in,” he hissed, sliding into the back seat and waving me to come in after him, just as Boris and Victor Cherry burst out of the restaurant and hopped in too and off we drove, at a sedate and anticlimactic speed.

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[hazel-writes]

Summary: A devastating secret is revealed - one that you will never forget.

Word Count: 3,100

Warnings: minor canon-typical violence

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

People they come together

People they fall apart

No one can stop us now

'Cause we're all made of stars

• We Are All Made of Stars - Moby •

You walked towards the room that the Commander had told you to meet him in. It was in a section of the ship you weren’t familiar with; red lights lined the sleek black walls and it was quiet in comparison to the bustling area closer to the command center. Needless to say, walking the near-empty corridors made you nervous.

And rightfully so.

Because at that moment, as you rounded a corner, you found yourself barrelling right into none other than General Hux.

Why am I like this? you thought to yourself, amused by your constant poor luck.

You stumbled backwards, mumbling an apology as Hux recovered. His features screwed into an expression of disgust.

“You.” he said through gritted teeth. “What do you think you’re doing here? This area is restricted. We don’t allow artist scum here.”

You didn’t want to reveal the true nature of your visit to this section of the ship, so you tried, and failed, to think of another excuse for your location.

“I- I was…”

He chuckled, a sinister grin spreading on his face. “Lost for words now, are you? That would be a first.”

When you continued to stay quiet, Hux took a predatory step towards you, his long, angled nose merely inches from your face. You shut your eyes tightly, attempting to block out his anger and ease your own.

He raised a finger in front of your nose but you held your ground defiantly. “Speak girl, I asked you a question!”

"Hux!” a voice sounded from down the hall, interrupting the interrogation.

The General's expression soon turned to one of irritation as he spun to face the individual who had spoken. You recognised the voice immediately as that of the Commander.

“I requested that she come to this part of the ship.” He calmly walked towards you and the General. “I take it you won’t keep her from our meeting any longer.”

“What would you want from her?” he scoffed, eyeing you with disgust. “She’s just a piece of Lothalian trash-”

Suddenly, his voice was cut off as he brought his hands up to his throat, grasping at an invisible force. You took a few steps back, taking in the scene before you. After a few moments, Hux was released and he crumpled to the ground, coughing and sputtering. The Commander then turned towards you.

“Come,” he said, before turning and walking back in the direction he came from.

You followed behind him, looking back at Hux, who was still on the ground. You knew you would be in trouble the next time you crossed paths with him, but now, you simply revelled in the sight of him lying helpless on the floor.

It wasn’t long before you arrived in front of a large metallic door. With a wave of his hand, the Commander wordlessly opened it, revealing a small, black room. Your eyes, however, were glued to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the far wall.

“Wow,” you said, entranced by the speckled expanse of darkness.

“Sit,” he ordered, avoiding eye contact.

You did as he said, bringing your legs up in front of you and draping your hands over your knees. Silence enveloped the room and as much as you hated small talk, you despised awkward silence even more.

You couldn’t take it any longer. “So are we gonna play patty-cake or are we just gonna sit here. On the floor. In silence.”

A sigh emanated from his modulator. “You are well aware that you are force-sensitive.”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. “I guess, though I still am unsure as to what that entails.”

“The Force is a field of energy, created by all life, that connects everything in the universe. Those who are force-sensitive are highly attuned to its flow; they can sense and manipulate it to their will. Less than one percent of the universe’s population has the ability to do this.”

This was the most you had ever heard him speak and you hung onto every word. “And I’m one of those one percent?”

“With proper training, yes, you could be.”

This confused you. “But why do I need to be trained? It’s not like I’m some soldier who could use it in battle; I’m an artist! What would I gain from it? ”

He answered quickly and straightforwardly. “Power.”

You hated that word. It was too often used to justify war. “But I don’t want power; I want peace.”

“Peace only comes from power,” he responded robotically.

You shook your head in disagreement and let your eyes wander to the sheet of space before you. You thought of your dad, and how he always knew how to deescalate a tricky situation. Or your mom, who was always putting others before herself. And of course your little brother, who always saw the best in everyone and everything.

You smiled fondly. “I think peace comes from empathy.”

“You’re being naive,” he sighed.

You shrugged. “Or hopeful.”

He responded as if reciting from a First Order textbook, if that was even a thing, you thought .

“Hope is dangerous. It distracts us from our fears.”

"And gives us the confidence to confront them,” you retorted confidently.

He was starting to grow frustrated, his gloved fists clenching and unclenching. “You should always go into a fight imagining the worst possible outcome, not hoping that you will somehow make it out unscathed.”

“But hope provides us with something to fight for, and without that, we’re powerless,” you thought deeply, choosing your words carefully. “You were wrong before. Peace doesn’t come from power, power comes from peace.”

He silently searched your face, as if tracing each line would help him figure you out. You noticed a shift in his body language; he looked on edge, hesitant, nervous.

“I want to try something. I am going to attempt to see into your mind - and I want you to try to stop me.”

“Haven’t we done this before?” you smirked.

“Yes, however, I want you to replicate your actions, control them.”

“And why would you help me keep you out of my mind?”

He fidgeted with one of his fingers. “There are people on this ship that wouldn’t be happy with me engaging with someone so dispositioned to the Force, as I am.”

This surprised you. “Who, Hux? He hardly seems like a threat you’d be concerned about.”

“Yes, Hux. But there is another. Someone I answer to.”

This surprised you even more. You couldn’t imagine the Commander answering to anyone but himself. “And why would this person be so against you training me?”

“He would believe his power over me would be jeopardized. He would perceive you as a threat.”

You scoffed. “Me, a threat? Does he know who I am? I tripped over a chair in my room last night and apologized to it. I mean, it’s just my personal opinion, but that definitely does not give off the most threatening of vibes.”

“Well, unfortunately, he does not care about your opinion.”

You paused, considering all the new information you just learned. Knowing that the Commander was following another’s orders should’ve made you nervous, but instead you had hope that maybe some of the bad things he had done in the past weren't completely his doing.

“Alright, fine. Let’s just get this over with, okay?”

He nodded silently. As he brought his hand to your temple, you couldn’t help but flinch. Surprisingly, he stopped his movement.

“I’ll make it as painless as I can.”

You stared up at him, astonished by his uncharacteristic comment, before nodding. He slowly continued his maneuver.

You felt nothing at first, only a small tingle at the back of your skull. Like vines on a tree, you felt the tingle form tendrils and reach across the expanse of your head. You focused on each one, imagining walls being built in front of each. But the vines were persistent. They snaked up the cracks of your walls, making their way to the top. You tried making the walls taller, but there were too many; you couldn’t keep up. You managed to keep most of the vines at bay, but one vine slipped its way over the top of the wall, and started its descent to the other side.

As it did, flashes began to hit you in small bursts. With them came visions, memories.

You and your older brother, Doran, sat on a blanket, watching as your little brother, Benji, played in the dirt a few feet away.

“Why does he do that?” you asked Doran.

“Why does he do what?” he replied.

“Play in the dirt like that. It’s gross.” You watched as Benji squished a handful of mud in his hand, smiling.

“Maybe he sees something in it that you don’t.”

“Like what, worms?”

Doran looked at his younger brother fondly. “I dunno. He’s always been like that - perceptive. He lives in his own little world.”

The scene twisted into another.

“Wait up!” Benji shouted as you both raced down a steep, rocky hill, giggling like idiots.

You remembered this day. You won the race.

As you neared the bottom, you turned, only to see your brother trip.

This was new… You didn’t remember that happening.

Expecting him to stumble off of the rock he was standing on, you lunged forward.

Only, he never fell.

You watched as your brother hovered in the air, horizontal to the ground, arm outstretched in front of him.

“Benji-”

The vision changed.

Your mom and dad whispered in the living room of your house. You watched from the crack of your bedroom door. Their whispers were rushed, panicked. You could tell something bad had happened.

“We can’t just give him to them to use as a weapon,” your father said, frustrated.

Your mother responded, frowning. “He is old enough to know what his sacrifice would mean.”

“Sacrifice?!” he whispered, astonished. “So you admit it! Handing him over is a death sentence!”

Your mother sighed. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

Your father interrupted before she could say another word. “It’s exactly what you meant! You want to send our ten year-old son to fight for the Resistance.”

Your heart sank.

"He could save millions of lives.”

“If he isn’t killed first!”

“He will be well-protected. They’ll take care of him.”

“For the wrong reasons! All they want is another weapon to use against the Order.”

“He’s already said yes.”

“He is being manipulated, and so are you!” Your father took your mother’s hands, pleading with her, begging her, for some sort of understanding. “Listen, just the other day he told me that someday, when the ships don’t fly above our house so often, he wants to study plants. That’s what he loves to do: look at the little plants, watch them grow, sprout leaves, bloom flowers… He’s just a boy. Our boy.”

She sighed. “I understand, trust me, I do… but think of all the other little girls and boys who will die if we don’t do this. I won’t be responsible for that kind of pain.”

“I just-”

“I know… but it has to be done.”

Your father looked down at the familiar dust-covered floor. His voice lowered in defeat. “The children can never know. Especially her,” he said, nodding to your bedroom. “It will put them in danger. We will tell them we sent him away until the land is safe.”

The scene changed again.

You stood in the doorway of your house. Your brother waved goodbye to you as he walked towards a small ship, hand in hand with your mother. You smiled, turning around before he did, and heading back into the house.

Why, why did you turn around? Why didn’t you keep looking for just one more second?

The scene presented itself to you over and over. You couldn’t escape it. You heard a voice, calling your name, urging you to escape your own mind.

“Hey… Hey! Wake up!”

You shot straight up from your position on the ground, panting. A face hovered over you - one you didn’t recognize. You shuffled backwards, startled.

“It’s me! It’s just me.”

You faintly recognized the voice - it was similar to one you had grown accustomed to over the past few days, except this one was less distorted and slightly higher in pitch.

“Commander?”

He nodded, looking away. Your bleary vision made it hard to see the man before you. You could discern a pair of deep, hazel eyes. They reminded you of one of father’s paintings; your favorite painting. It depicted a forest, with trees that touched the clouds and pinecones that littered the ground. You could practically smell them right through the canvas. Endless shades of green stood out against the stormy sky. It all seemed peaceful, yet full of life.

You brought yourself up onto your elbows, before scooting back towards the wall for support. You remained silent for a moment, processing the recent turn of events. You finally spoke, eyes wide, face blank.

“They killed him.”

The Commander looked back at you, confused. “Who-”

“My parents…” you interrupted, still in shock. “They killed him.”

He remained patient. “Killed who?”

“My brother,” you responded, the immensity of the secret you had just unearthed beginning to hit. Your vision became clouded, hot droplets hitting your tights. “My little brother.”

The Commander looked down, as if attempting to decipher a riddle. He spoke slowly.

“I thought you said he was killed by the Resistance.”

“He was,” you responded, running your fingers through your hair. You were angry now; angry at your parents, the Resistance, the constant wars and fighting. “But not in the way my parents described. They told me that there had been an accident . That an X-Wing crashed and he had simply been in the way. But he hadn’t just ‘been in the way’. He was on that X-Wing. The whole time they were using him - using his abilities - to help them win the war. I didn’t remember before. They must’ve done something to make me forget...”

The Commander looked at you strangely, his hazel eyes trained on yours, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“What a surprise,” you let out a breathy chuckle, raising your arms in exasperation. “You don’t care about any of this, do you?”

He remained still. “I never said that.”

Your emotions began to swell, and unfortunately, you projected your anger onto the Commander. “Well if you cared at all about my brother’s death, then you wouldn’t be blowing up planets on an everyday basis!”

“I have my orders,” he said, flatly.

You stood abruptly. “You can choose not to follow them! You’re no better than my parents - sending innocents off into a war that isn’t even being fought for them.”

The Commander stood and spoke with a slight irritation in his voice. “Don’t speak of things you know nothing about.”

You paused, looking him up and down. You let out a humourless chuckle, knowing you probably sounded crazy. “You think you are so powerful, hiding behind that mask. But now I know… you’re just a man. You follow blind orders and when someone calls you out on your cowardice, you throw a temper tantrum like a spoiled toddler. Do you have any thoughts of your own?”

He whipped his head towards you and spoke through clenched teeth. “If I didn’t have thoughts of my own, you would be dead right now.”

“Tell me them then!” You were yelling now. “Why would you care what happened to my brother - what happens to me? Why would you?”

“Because I was your brother!” he boomed. But his powerful voice didn’t match his eyes; they looked desperate, scared, like he was a little boy again. You took a hesitant step back. He noticed this and took a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. “I was… used for my abilities. And when they became too strong, I was perceived as a threat.”

Your mood softened, surprised by his sudden vulnerability. You searched his eyes gently. “Who thought of you as a threat? The Order?”

He looked down, his hair concealing his pained expression. The room’s red glow cast somber shadows on his face, but just for a second, you swear you saw a flicker of light dance across his face.

“You can tell me.”

He shook his head, the shadows having returned, and avoided your eyes. ‘I’ve already said too much. I’m... I’m not the only one who can read minds.’

"There is someone else? Someone like me?”

He answered immediately, facing you with a stoney stare. “No, nothing like you.” He paused, regaining his impassive composure and putting his mask back on. “You can’t know - It is not safe.”

You started to open your mouth to protest, but a blaring alarm interrupted. You jumped slightly, startled by the unexpected noise. The door to the room you were in slid open with a hiss. The Commander spun around, activating his lightsaber. You had never been this close to it before; it crackled with a furious energy that both scared and enticed you.

Your focus made its way back to the opened door, where two terrified officers now stood.

“C-Commander, General Hux wishes to see you. He- he says it is urgent.”

The Commander stalked towards the officers, lightsaber still activated. The officers shrunk into themselves, anticipating their demise.

“Leave.”

The officers nodded vigorously, before running back the way they came. The Commander turned to look back at you.

“I have to go. I will be in contact with you soon.”

“Wait, I just wanted to say...” you paused as he stopped his movement. “You only become a threat to others when you become a threat to yourself. Always remember who you are. That’s what is important - that’s what makes us powerful.”

Your eyes met his masked expression in a moment of deafening silence. You caught his focus shift to the windows behind you, the stars reflected in the black slit where his eyes had been moments before.

An image flashed before your eyes briefly, except this time, it wasn’t yours: Stars surrounded you. You could make out two gold cubes hanging from someplace above. A small hand emerged from behind you, attempting to grab the shiny objects, but it couldn’t reach them. It kept reaching, and right when you thought it was going to touch them, everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, you were alone again.

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