#I mean I just closed my eyes for a glimpse of a second
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In canon. Azriel returns home from a mission, a little injured and very exhausted. Eris knows exactly how to take care of him.
for @azrisweek | azrisweek masterlist | read on ao3 | no warnings
Kneeling beside the tub Eris gently moves the sponge, drenched in luke-warm water, down his mate’s wounded chest. He is careful not to touch the shredded skin too much, but he has to clean them out as well so he can’t fully avoid them either.
Azriel’s arms rest in the water, letting his tense muscles soak and ease, his head is tipped back, resting on the edge of the tub, lips parted.
Eris moves the sponge over the edges of a very nasty gash, always careful, but with wounds like these you can never be careful enough.
Azriel’s face contorts with a grimace, before he clenches his jaw to hold back from crying out.
“I am sorry, my love,” Eris whispers, his own heart squeezing when he feels his mate’s pain through the bond. “But I need to clear the wounds of the dirt and the puss, it will get infected otherwise.”
“Don’t apologise,” Azriel breathes, a muscle feathering in his jaw.
What Eris is doing for him…he has no words for it. No one has ever done that for him. When returning home from a mission he always used to be alone, cleaning his own wounds and processing everything that has happened on his mission.
Not anymore.
Now he has a mate. A mate who worries and cares more than anyone else has ever done before. A mate who helps him bathe, cooks food for him, massages his sore muscles and wings and who holds him throughout the whole night, whispering words of love and comfort, trying to soothe all the tension within him. And when the cold from deep within him threatens to spill all throughout his body, his mate keeps him warm.
Azriel can barely articulate how grateful he is for Eris and how much he loves him. He has always been more of the physical type and so he is happy with showing Eris how much he means to him through his actions rather than his words – squeezing his hand, kissing his forehead, pulling him close to his body, making tender love to him throughout the whole night…
Eris runs the sponge down his mate‘s chest once more before placing it on the edge of the tub. Rolling back his shoulders, he also cranes his neck, then lifts his hand to brush back a few strands of hair that have fallen into Azriel’s face.
“I should be so mad at you and give you the silent treatment for at least two weeks.” Tenderly, Eris lets two fingers trail down the side of his lover‘s face, collecting a few stray droplets of water.
Azriel can’t help but chuckle. He lifts his head, glimpsing at his mate through one eye. “And why is that?”
“For putting yourself in so much danger!” Eris throws one arm up in despair, frowning at his mate. “You could be dead, Azriel. Or wounded much worse, or—”
“But I am not!” As quick as a shadow, Azriel grasps Eris‘ hand, and brings it to his lips, softly kissing his mate‘s palm. “I have looked worse, trust me.”
“That isn’t really a relief, you know?” Eris grumbles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.
“Join me in the water?”
“You‘re just trying to change the topic.”
“Maybe.”
“Impossible.” Despite his little displeasure about his mate’s nonchalance concerning his wounds, Eris rises from the floor a second later, stripping out of his shoes first, then his trousers and lastly his shirt.
Azriel watches him all the while, silently admiring and devouring his mate with his eyes. The corners of his lips kick up and he closes his eyes, a breathy chuckle leaving him. “I think I will never grow tired of seeing you like this, naked and stunning. Delicious.” Azriel slides forward, making room for his mate behind him.
“Still trying to change the topic and distract me.” Eris lifts one foot over the edge of the tub perfectly accommodated for wings, then the second and slowly sinks into warm water. “And now trying to seduce me with your words, Shadowsinger.”
“But it works so well, doesn’t it?”
This time Eris chuckles, sitting back on his heels while picking up the sponge again. “Spread your wings.”
Azriel hums in response and it edges on a moan. He leans over the tub wall, bending at the waist and then unfolds his wings, following Eris' order and letting his mate finish attending to his wounds.
“Gods,” Azriel sighs, resting his chin on his hand, feeling how he gets hard only from his mate’s subtle caress on his wings. They won’t end up fucking this night, that is for sure. Azriel is way too tired and exhausted, and his body a little too wounded, for it — Eris would never allow them to go beyond kissing or worse doing something that causes Azriel more pain.
But teasing? Even if they don’t end up tangled up in the sheets together, teasing is always on Eris‘ agenda. And so is making his mate feel good, in the best possible way.
“You want to talk about your mission?” Eris asks, carefully, running the cloth up the juncture of Azriel’s right wing and then over the soft membrane.
“Not yet.” Azriel often needs time to process everything he has seen and Eris accepts this — of course he does.
“Good,” Eris hums, now moving on to the second wing. “The hounds missed you, always barking and whining, hoping you‘ll return soon.”
“They are almost as bad as their owner.” A soft chuckle slips through Azriel’s dry lips, which is rapidly cut off when Eris flicks his ear. He yelps a little in response – a very dramatic reaction to the barely-there pain..
“They just want you at home where you are safe.” Eris places the cloth on the edge of the tub and sits back with a heavy sigh. “I fucking hate seeing you hurt.”
“I know,” Azriel answers, voice tinged with remorse. “I’ll try to be more careful.” He changes his position, sitting back down in the water, flaring his wings and leaning back against the tub wall.
Opening his arms, he invites Eris into his embrace, “Come here.”
Eris follows, happily seeking comfort in his mate’s strong arms. He snuggles up against Azriel, who rests his chin atop his head and folds his arms over the base of his throat. “I would never do something reckless that could really hurt me, or at least I’m not doing those kinds of things anymore.”
Eris doesn’t say anything, only listens.
“I have a reason to return now. I have a person to come back home to. I have someone waiting for me. And I have someone I want to see again, someone whose smile I want to see again, someone whose laughter I want to hear again, someone who I want to kiss and hold again.” Azriel’s chest lifts with a deep inhale, pushing against Eris’ back.
“I have a mate and I have a home, I would never risk not seeing this ever again..” His lips kiss the top of the High Lord’s head who shudders in his embrace.
“I love you, Eris,” he whispers, and some small tears roll down his cheeks. “More than I could ever put into words.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Eris crouches down in front of Azriel with a smirk on his lips. “You enjoy this too much, my love.”
They stayed in the bath for as long as possible — Eris used his firepowers to keep the water enjoyably warm— but at some point they had to leave. Namely when Azriel’s stomach started to growl and Eris went into full mother-hen mode — his mate needed to eat and that immediately.
“I do,” Azriel hums, “because most of the time this position leads to other things.” A grin splits his lips and Eris shakes his head with a dramatic huff.
“They gave me the horniest mate of all of them, didn’t they?” he says in an amused voice.
Azriel only shrugs, having to snigger slightly. Maybe they did. But with a mate like Eris it is hard to not be aroused half of the time.
“I don’t think you don’t like it.”
“My mate being constantly horny?” Eris deliciously slowly slides the towel up Azriel’s inner thigh.
“Mhm.” The shadowsinger’s eyes travel to Eris’ chest, following a few droplets of water that slowly make their way down to where his towel is wrapped around his waist. His lids grow heavy, and he knows Eris can scent his arousal, but that is alright. He is his mate, and he should know just how much he desires him. Every minute of the day.
Azriel’s breath catches, and then he swallows thickly. Eris moves his towel-clothed hand down Azriel’s other leg, his other hand holding onto his mate’s hip for support. He knows exactly what he is doing and it drives Azriel’s almost insane. “Tease,” he murmurs, his tone edging on a growl.
Eris chuckles deeply, and then flashes his mate a big grin. He can feel how the shadowsinger‘s body reacts, tensing in response to his actions. Azriel’s cock starts to throb with desire, feeling heavier at the touch of his mate’s hands on his skin, and the position they find themselves in.
The bond is still new, the frenzy still strong, their need for each other so very strong. But not tonight. Tonight is all about closeness, holding each other, maybe cuddling naked, but no love making. And definitely no fucking.
When both Azriel’s strong and muscular legs are dry, Eris starts to tend to the rest of his mate’s sculpted body. His lower abdomen, his marvellous chest, his arms and of course his hands which he pays extra attention to. Lastly, he rubs the towel over Azriel’s head and kisses his lips. “Let’s eat, my love.”
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Only one step out into the corridor, Azriel is met with the hounds. All twelve of them, happily barking and trying to press their damp snouts against him, sniffing him and licking him.
Azriel’s greets all of them, tumbling back and forth from the impact of them pressing against him. It takes him quite a while to get free of them, allowing them to follow him into the dining room where he will give them a few treats (much to their owner’s dismay who always says Azriel spoils them).
Soft candle light flickers on the table, accompanied by some scones on the wall, otherwise the room is dark. But it isn’t an uncomfortable darkness — it is soothing, and peaceful and Azriel knows he is not alone. He is with his mate, and their precious pets, so he hums in delight.
The High Lord approaches him with a plate — only one as it is already late and Eris has undoubtedly already had dinner not knowing his mate would arrive back home this evening.
“Here you go.” Eris' gesture is so simple, only a little peck to the top of his head but Azriel’s heart almost burst out of his chest due to it.
Before Eris can move away from him, the spymaster quickly reaches out, wrapping both strong arms around his mate’s torso and pulling him so close that he can bury his face in Eris‘ solid belly.
“I love you,” Azriel mumbles, the sound muffled due to his mouth being pressed against part of Eris fluffy bathrobe and his bare skin.
“I love you.” Eris‘ gently lets his hand slide into Azriel’s soft hair, massaging his scalp in a light caress. They stay like this for a while — until Azriel’s stomach decides to make himself known once again.
This time Eris is quick enough. He moves away rapidly when he hears the growling noise of his mate’s stomach, not liking it a bit. “Eat now!”
>>>>>>>>>>>>
The moment Azriel appears in their shared chamber the bed is already waiting for him, inviting him into its soft embrace. The sheets whisper when he slides beneath them and his eyelids grow heavy, closing and staying closed for a bit. Until he feels the bed dip beside him.
“I missed you,” he mumbles, shifting so that he can lie half-atop his mate.
Eris wraps both arms around Azriel, holding him tight and close, the fingers of one hand gently scratch the back of Azriel’s head, with his other hand Eris‘ tenderly caresses the shadowsinger‘s back. “I missed you.”
Turning his head a little, Azriel pecks Eris' chest, humming lowly when he does so. Then he nuzzles his face into his mate’s warm skin and the fine dusting of hair, exhaling a long and deep sigh.
“You need to work tomorrow, or do we have time for each other?”
The hand in Azriel’s hair pauses and his soft chuckle makes his chest vibrate against Azriel’s face. “I am the High Lord, my love,” Eris says, “and if my mate tells me he wants me all for himself, I simply decide that I have no work to do and stay with him instead.”
general Azris tag list (please let me know if you want to be added/removed): @azrielsbabyg @lady-riel @moonlightazriel @aayo-whatt @brekkershadowsinger @ladyelain @banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @talibunny30 @berryzxx
thank you so much @born-to-riot for beta reading💛
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another snippet from my polin fic where colin has lost (some of!) his memories and struggles to figure out penelope's place in his life
After their second dance, since they were now bound by propriety to not dance together again, Colin once again offered Penelope his arm and they took a turn about the room. He was eager to keep talking with her as she was a most witty conversationalist. Everyone they spotted, she had some amusing tidbit to tell him. The latest was a rumor about a certain gentleman’s effort to obtain a special marriage license.
“You mean to tell me, Lord Basilio has become engaged to Miss Goring?” Colin snickered, “Oh, that poor woman.” He reluctantly tore his eyes away from Penelope to search the hall for a glimpse of his former classmate from Eton. “However did he manage that? Last I saw him, the man could not speak to a lady without tripping over himself. Although granted, with my memory, perhaps he’s been much improved for years now.”
“It is not proper for a lady to say.” Penelope replied primly but her eyes were dancing. “Perhaps we might infer the reason for such hasty nuptials from the state of her hair.”
The back of Miss Goring’s hair was rather flat and seemed mussed. It was the sort of disarray that could be caused by a lover’s wandering hands. They both watched as she nervously touched it, attempting to pin back some loose tendrils.
“Penelope!” Colin chuckled, so amused and scandalized by her that he did not even realize his use of her Christian name. “What a barb!”
He had a flash of a similar conversation, some faint memory that he fought the urge to try and recall. He had learned in the prior weeks that attempting to force himself to remember only caused the memory to slip out of reach. But there was an air of familiarity to that particular line. Did he often spend his time like this? Trading bits of gossip with Penelope as they sipped lemonade and laughed together? It was an all together pleasant way to pass an evening, he would not mind one bit if it were true.
“Well if it’s any consolation, based on the whispers I’ve heard, it is a love match. She is quite taken with him.” Penelope offered, nodding to where the couple in question was now dancing.
Colin was relieved to hear it. While it was amusing to gossip at the expense of their fellow lords and ladies, he would never dream of standing by as a gentleman took advantage of one of the young ladies in their care. It was clear from the way the two looked at each other as they danced that any adventures that had led to the state of Miss Goring’s hair had been done with mutual passion. Lord Basilio was a fine enough prospect, just notoriously shy if not a little awkward. He was happy for the gentleman to have found his match.
“Should I tempt further scandal and ask how a young lady such as yourself might even know how one’s hair could be in such a state?” Colin was somewhat shocked by his own words but he did not apologize, curious to hear her answer. Thoughts of Penelope with her hair loose and disheveled from hands running through it haunted him. Her eyes would be bright from the exertion, lips swollen and her chest would heave- he cut off his line of thinking, clearing his throat and taking a much needed sip of his drink.
“I’ve two sisters married, Colin. I’m not so naive. Besides, I challenge anyone to spend more than five minutes in your home and not come across the Viscount and his new Viscountess wrapped up in each other. They gave Eloise and I quite the scare the other day.” She giggled, looking over at the pair who were currently testing the bounds of propriety for even a married couple with how closely they danced.
#forcing myself to post another snippet to motivate myself!!!#polin#bridgerton#bridgerton fic#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington
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Heavy Lies the Heart - Chapter 8
Masterlist
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC
Word Count: 2k
Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty
Warnings: death
Summary: When two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance, can they find purpose in each other? Or will circumstances keep them apart?
A/N: I'm going to be real with you guys--this chapter was just for me. It's disgusting, cheesy, romantic nonsense and I absolutely love it. I hope you do too. :)
Writing an amateur poet's love letter was so ridiculous and fun, but I also may have f'ed myself up a little bit. Save me pathetic, handsome, unabashedly romantic gentleman who respects me as a human being with deep thoughts and valued feelings but also compares my eyes to flaked amber in the sunlight and treats me gently like a beautiful flower laid softly on the shrine of a solitary goddess...you're my only hope.
My dearest Beatrice,
These nights we have spent apart have been perhaps the longest of my life.
I had not realized just how completely you had made yourself at home in my heart until you were no longer here with me. I look to the space you have carved in my soul, and I find it empty. You have gone, and taken a piece of me with you.
At night I sit in the windowsill searching the streets below, desperate to see any sign of you waiting there for me. I pray for just a glimpse of your shrouded form, bathed in the silver light of the moon. As I wait, I know I would have forever been happy to be your Leander, swimming across the sea each night, guided by your light.
I have found my days as listless as my nights, waiting to hear any mention of your name. I dread what news time may bring, yet cannot stop myself from wishing the hours to pass as minutes. Time may yet be my enemy, but it still remains the one bridge that leads me to you.
I hope you are well my darling. I see an image of you sat alone with your worries, and it haunts my every thought. I hope to find some relief in the knowledge that my family will be with you soon, even if I cannot be. I hope your brief time with them will bring some measure of comfort to you, as they have comforted me.
When my mother and sisters return, I pray they bring good news. But know that no matter what, my feelings will not waiver. I am willing to stand steadfast against any tide we may yet face, so long as it is your wish to stand alongside me.
I worry now that perhaps my lack of interest in the movements of the aristocracy may have translated poorly. You must know that my distaste for their grandstanding, their rigid adherence to proprietary, and their many pointless rules means nothing in the face of my feelings for you. So now I shall be clear, so that there can be no misunderstandings between us.
I love you Beatrice. I will love you for as long as you will have me, and then one hundred lifetimes more.
Yours eternally,
Benedict
---
Beatrice sat in her nightdress, curled up in the armchair nearest the windows of her room. She clutched Benedict's letter close to her chest as she gazed out across the moonlit garden. It looked so similar to the place where she and Benedict had first met. It was not so long ago, yet it felt like a lifetime had past since then.
She turned her attention back to the letter. In the dim candlelight it was difficult to make out his flourished words, but that hardly mattered. Beatrice had read it so many times already that she could all but recite it word for word. She ran her fingers over the last line, smiling as she thought of the man that had written it.
I love you.
She wrapped her arms around her legs, pressing her forehead io her knees as she blushed. She could hardly contain the emotions that threatened to burst forth from her chest. Even having read it dozens of times, she could hardly believe it was real. And so she read it once more, then again, only to make sure she was not dreaming.
The feelings between them had always been clear. She did not need words to know Benedict cared for her. But to have it articulated so beautifully? To have him decalre it so boldly? That was a different thing entirely. Perhaps it was best then that it was written and not spoken. If she had heard it first from his lips, she surely would have perished in an instant--her heart too overcome with feeling to possibly be contained.
Her letter expressed her worries and her desires. Now she almost felt foolish thinking of the words she had written, having believed his choice rushed. And perhaps, regretted. Still, they needed to be said all the same, and now she could rest soundly knowing she had not in some way entrapped him in a life he did not want.
She prayed they would be allowed to see each other soon, but resolved herself to do whatever she must if she was not. She would see him again, no matter what.
She sighed, taking one last look out into the night before readying herself for bed.
As she laid in the dark, Benedict's letter tucked safely under her pilllow, she smiled to herself. She drifted off to sleep, knowing she would have sweet dreams.
---
My Dearest Benedict,
I hope this letter finds you in comfort and good health.
I have wished desperately to visit you these past nights. I have longed to be near you, to see your face and to hear your voice. The thought of never seeing you again forever stalks my every days and nights.
We spoke so little about my deception before we were forced to part. I know you have assured me all is well, but even so I must beg your forgiveness just once more. It was a crime committed completely for my own selfish desires, and I made you my unwitting accomplice.
And while I cannot in good conscious condone my actions, nor can I condemn them. For if I had been honest from the start, I believe we would never have been able to grow to know each other so well. For that time we spent free of society's eyes and expectations, I will apologize, I will accept the consequences, but I will never regret.
I know you must be worried for what is to come. The truth of it is I do not know myself. There are many possibilities, all reliant on many choices made by many people who care very little for the hearts involved. Ultimately, it comes down to this: Will I be permitted to see you again and if so, will you wish to see me?
I have not forgotten what you said as we danced. That you were willing to openly pursue me in spite of my title and any trouble that may follow. I was glad to hear you say so, gladder still for you to show your resolve and declare your intentions to all with every dance we shared. But I ever worry I have put you in a difficult situation, where you made a choice in the heat and haste of a moment, and now feel you must continue to honor your word and protect my feelings.
It is the knowing you care for me, but yet surely not wanting the burdens that I will place upon you, that haunts me so. That you may one day wake to a feeling of resentment towards me for your confinement, and wish in vain for release. I know you to be a free soul my dearest, and you do not belong shakled to a crown. And so I wish to be clear that I would never disparage you, even if it should be that you choose to place your freedom first.
But if this is to be the time I lay bare all my truths, I shall do so in full and know for certain I have said all I wished to. Then, regardless of what outcome the future holds, I can live contented by the knowledge that I have spoken every wish that lives in my heart.
I love you, Benedict. I have loved you since the night we met, and I will continue loving you every night and every day that follows for the rest of our lives and beyond. Whatever choice is made, regardless of who makes it, know that my feelings for you will never change.
And while it is so that I would never blame you for chosing to live your life a free man, the truth is I desperately ache for you to instead choose to spend it locked away with me. Together in a prison made for two, with no direction or purpose other than to be forever by each other's side.
I find I am only filled with such selfish thoughts when I am with you, and so it is with such selfishness that I reveal my deepest wish. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you, my love, forever and always until the day we die.
Yours always,
Beatrice
---
Benedict sat on the windowsill, reading over the letter held tightly in his hands.
While in his own letter he had chosen to make his feelings know beyond all doubt, he had not expected Beatrice would do the same. It is not that he questioned her love for him, but even so it made it no less of a shock to see it written so bodly in her own hand.
Benedict had of course been certain she shared his feelings, but Beatiece was by nature more reserved than others. Certainly more than he had ever been. Her feelings had never been uncertain, but even when they were alone it was clear that she held herself back.
Not that he minded, of course. He found her shyness enduring, and never considered her in any way insincere. Quite the opposite; he truly thought her to be the most genuine person he had ever met.
So it was not a surprise that Beatrice felt she had to be so forthcoming with her concerns for him.
That she had been so worried for him in spite of her own feelings was an unwelcome revelation. Benedict had never wanted her to feel pain over any aspect of their relationship. And that she knew his choice, but still wished to convey he was not bound by to it made his heart ache. He felt it all the more when he considered that she did so in direct opposition to her own feelings, all for his sake.
But then she had followed it all with such a bold declaration of her love. Whatever pain he held was lessened considerably by her uncharacteristicly assertive words. Despite her feelings of guilt for her actions and the weight she believed she had placed upon him, she still chose to make her wishes known.
Beatrice loved him, and she had made it clear she wanted his love in return.
Benedict was soothed then in the knowledge that she had received his letter. Whatever worry she had about his choice were surely dispelled the moment she read it. There could now be no doubt between them that they both desired the same thing.
He only hoped this separation would end soon, so that he might show her the depths of his resolve.
He loved her, and she loved him. Regardless of what choice was made by others, he had already made his decision.
Benedict smiled as he folded the letter gently, sliding it back into the safety of its envelope. He prayed, as always, that tomorrow would be the day he received the news he so desperately longed to hear. But if he must continue waiting for a word that he could see her again, he would do so safe in the knowledge that Beatrice now knew his true feelings. And that wherever she was, she was waiting for him too.
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Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @asterizee @g4ns3y @bubblegumcat229 @mhmoony @mmmunson @iamcailin08 @mads198-9
#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton x oc#benedict bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton fanfiction#heavy lies the heart#my writing#loversatthegreatdivide
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I never get it how some of you guys could fall asleep in 5mins. Are you even real humans?
#like how#I closed my eyes and then I had this weird hc in my head going for a while I opened my eyes it was half an hour later#I mean I just closed my eyes for a glimpse of a second#time feels unreal when you are trying to get some sleep#what should I call this#sleep thoughts#but I’m very much awake when I type it down#look what sleep deprivation has got me#and I cant even call it sleep deprivation bcs I don’t rly feel it that way#like my eyes need a rest but my brain…#have you seen anyone desperate for some sleep but at the same time got this urge to walk around doing meaningless stuff like doing dishes#or clean up the hob#I wonder if the symptoms of sleep deprivation include rambling#in that case yeah im probably sleep deprived#personal
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needs
3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader
joel master list
Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.
A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.
WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.
“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .
-------
It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous. He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.
Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it. He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable.
He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you. Of course it would.
-
You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too. He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun.
It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you.
“Can I see it?” you ask.
“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”
“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?”
It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.
“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate. “Can ya gimme a second, honey?”
“Okay.” He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away. “Now?”
“No. Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make.
“What do you mean”
“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.”
“Why?"
“Cause it ain’t as. . .”
“Ain’t as what?”
“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”
“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer.
He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.”
When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.”
He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”
"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"
Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs.
After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"
"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."
You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper.
He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."
You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions.
——
He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly. Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad. If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop.
You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway.
Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like. Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit.
—--
“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft.
He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach. You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste.
“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily.
“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”
“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips. He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch.
Then, your lips wrap around the head. He inhales sharply through his teeth.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask.
“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”
You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more.
“Oh god damn,” he breathes.
You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating.
He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.
“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs.
“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees. In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel.
“Can I taste that, too?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he nods.
You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum. It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.
“Like it,” you whisper.
“Yeah? take all ya want.”
You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.”
You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop.
“Good girl,” he sighs and cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.
—
All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.
It’s not a want. It's a need. You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it. You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.
You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.
----
One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief. He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.
On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on. But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it. “Good girl, that’s real good, honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”
God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away. Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body. He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep.
"God have mercy," he mutters to himself.
He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.
"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.
He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change.
When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself.
"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.
"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair.
"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."
"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all."
"I know."
"Have a good dream?"
You sigh. “Yeah.”
“‘bout what?”
“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all.
“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”
“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs.
"You want a hand?"
“Yeah.”
“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass. "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?"
You're quiet.
"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"
“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.”
“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit.
He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.”
“Okay.” You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down.
—-
"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats.
“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact. He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.
"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.
"Yeah,"
He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"
"You put it between my legs."
He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit.
You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"
"No, you put it inside," you whisper.
Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.
——
“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes.
Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”
“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.
Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”
“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’
“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.
“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."
“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp.
“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip.
“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.” You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you.
You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.”
“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”
“Too big?”
“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”
He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”
You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.
“you like havin’ me in here?”
“I love it,” you say.
“As much as the dream?”
“More than the dream.”
“What happened next?” he asks
“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”
“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”
“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”
He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”
“Felt so good, like a massage”
“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”
“And warm”
“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that.
He begins to slowly move again and you whimper. You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good.
"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time.
"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes. His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”
You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”
You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.
“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”
His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty.
—-
He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”
You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer. He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.” You turn around and face him. “You okay, honey?”
You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.
His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath. He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.” He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod. He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.
-----
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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.
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for fic notifications, please follow @toxicfics, subscribe to notifications, and make sure your tumblr app settings allow push notifications. ⚠️ some of my fics are pretty dark.
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#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x innocent reader#joel miller x virgin reader#pedro pascal characters#joel miller fanfic#tw virginity loss#Finally F*cking Friday
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Hi! I hope you doing well! Could one of Earth 42 Miles Morales x Female Reader where reader in his universe dead and he and her was dating before he become the prowler (I don't know if I write his name right English it's not my first language) and she go to earth 42 whit miles and he sees her again alive, and Miles is also dating Female Reader and is like "what do you mean "she's alive"?"
(Hello! I hope this fits and I hope you enjoy! So sorry if it sucks as this is my first spider-verse thing but I hope you enjoy!)
Taglist
Second Chance
You knew the moment you got here that something was wrong.
You were not home.
Home was 1610, not whatever the hell this was. You guys were supposed to be sent home, the DNA detected was supposed to send you home.
But you realized too late the Spider, the one that caused all of this, wasn't from home.
Everything was wrong.
Very wrong.
Especially when Miles' Uncle Aaron came through the door. Really wrong when he leads you up to the roof.
And really, fucking, wrong when you stared at a mural of your face, painted on a brick wall in front of you along with Miles' father.
You were dead here.
Home was where you were alive. This…this was not home.
"...(Name)..." You could hear Miles whisper in your ear, you couldn't answer back.
Too scared to look away from your smiling face painted into the brick.
You could tell Uncle Aaron was standing right beside you and Miles, both staring at the graffiti mural.
Miles looked to you, his hand gripping onto yours to try and bring you back from your own stare at your own mural.
Uncle Aaron flipped on a light, Miles hesitated to look, but when he did he could see his supposed Uncles stare.
You finally tore your eyes from the mural, gripping back onto Miles' hand almost as if it would take you away from this nightmare.
Uncle Aaron merely stared at you two as you both backed up, trying to get away.
But you didn't.
You could feel a stare on the back of your head, too late to turn around, but catching a glimpse along with Miles as someone jumped from a rooftop, knocking Miles senseless and into the ground unconscious.
"Shit- Miles!" You panicked, trying to grab him before he hit the ground but you didn't get the chance.
You noted how the one who punched your boyfriend out stared at you, never looking away as he slowly got closer.
He stepped over Miles' unconscious body, you tried to back away but had nowhere to go as Uncle Aaron wrapped his arm around your neck from behind.
"Hey! No- let me go!" You tried to fight back, clawing at his hand before a sting in your neck caused you to yell in pain.
The one in the purple suit stood closer as your body tried to keep fighting, but soon fell limp, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
Uncle Aaron let you go, about to let you fall into the ground with your Miles. You were fully content with that.
Until the one in front of you caught you just as you closed your eyes to oblivion.
You still had some senses left until you were left completely out. So you could feel the way the boy caught you, carefully moving you in his arms.
Your eyes flickered open and closed, fighting to stay awake as he stared down at you before your eyelids dropped, and you couldn't help but fall asleep into nothing.
Uncle Aaron saw the way his nephew looked down at you, noting how close he held you and how he stared, his movements slow but gentle.
He could see the way he was careful with you, letting you rest in his arms and never letting you fall to the ground.
Something he had done before.
"Stop staring like they're yours. They're not." Uncle Aaron simply put, walking past his Nephew, Miles Morales, to throw the unconscious one over his shoulder.
"...I know. They're just…alive." Miles muttered, can't help but to stare down at your peaceful face in his arms.
You looked like you always did. Content and happy, peaceful to be in his arms.
Like you did before he lost you.
Seeing you alive and just as beautiful as he sat from afar stunned him for a moment, but relieved him as thoughts popped up in his head.
Maybe he got a second chance.
But as he looked over at your Miles, resentment grew.
How come he got to have everything he lost, when everything could've been avoided for him, and get to keep you?
His grip on you couldn't help but to strengthen, the thought of losing you again didn't sit well with him, especially to that Miles.
Not when he had a second chance.
So as he looked down at your sleeping face, one he used to wake up to and one he used to take pictures of just to tease you in the morning with,
He knew something.
He wasn't losing you again.
#earth 42 miles morales#miles morales x you#miles morales x y/n#miles morales#miles morales x reader#miles x reader#miles morales earth 42 x reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#into the spider verse#into the spiderverse x reader#across the spider verse x reader#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#spiderverse x reader#spider
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cece! pls james potter post quidditch game shower smut. thinking about his sweaty pecs and big hands and thick thighs. ily, ty 🤠
god he makes me so😵💫thank you for requesting!🖤
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For most players, the second the final whistle blew and the game was over, they were hit with a wave of exhaustion that made them want to just kick back and relax and maybe enjoy some downtime with their friends.
Not your boyfriend though, he was anything but.
The second the final whistle blew, it was like James took a hit that just sent pure, raw adrenaline coursing through his body until he was practically bouncing off the walls. Regardless of the outcome of the match itself, he was always buzzed and bouncing and ready to work off the extra energy before he joined the rest of his friends in celebrating.
There had been many ways James learnt to deal with the extra energy. Maybe an extra half an hour or so on the broom after everyone else headed off to the locker rooms. Maybe doing a few laps of the quidditch pitch until his legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t run any longer. Maybe even trying to convince the other boys to take a last-minute gander through the woods with him if possible.
However, he found far more enjoyable ways when he started dating you.
You always thought James was dramatic about his post-match energy bursts but now—now you knew they were anything but a joke.
“Fuck, baby, I-I can’t!”
The hot water was spraying down on your heated skin but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your nails dug into your boyfriend’s back, your head falling back against the tiles of the locker room showers as he pounded into you.
He had been insatiable the second he got his hands on you after the game. First, in the supplies closet whilst all the players cooled down in the locker room. He had your hands in his hair and your thighs squeezing his ears and he could barely keep himself from coming in his trousers. Then, he had you against the lockers, cheek and tits pressed against the cool metal as he pounded in you from behind, mocking the way you whined and begged to kiss and claw at his sweaty, toned torso. You barely caught a glimpse of it before his chest was pressed against your back.
And now you were in the shower, his cock ramming into you and his arms straining as he practically fucked you like a toy. You could barely stand but James wasn’t done. He wanted you, he needed you, even if it meant bouncing you up and down on his cock like his own personal fleshlight.
“One more f’me, baby,” he groaned, every muscle in his body straining as he held back his approaching orgasm. “Just one more. You just look so pretty, darling, it’s like winning the match all over again.”
“James,” you whined, feeling the way he tensed as your nails raked down his skin before he let out a low moan that echoed through the empty showers around you.
“That’s my girl, mark me up,” he growled, his eyes glued on the way your eager cunt took his cock, hitting deep with each thrust. “Want everyone to know who I belong to.”
“Me,” you gasped out, holding onto him as tightly as you could. “You belong to me.”
“I’m all yours,” James groaned, pressing your bodies close together as the sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls. “Gonna fuck you like I belong to you. Think I can get another few outta you, love. What do you say? Gonna let me fuck this pretty cunt like a winner? Gonna let me show you what being yours means?”
“Please, Jamie,” you moaned, your eyes falling shut as your body jostled with each thrust of his hips. “Show me everything.”
“Gonna show you the world, gorgeous.”
He had you sprawled over the bench twice before you even left the locker rooms.
.
#james potter#marauders#harry potter#hp#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#james potter smut#marauders x reader#marauders x you#marauders x y/n#marauders fic#marauders one shot#marauders smut#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter fic#harry potter one shot#harry potter smut#hp x reader#hp x you#hp x y/n#hp fic#hp one shot#hp smut
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Unexpected comfort
OPLA! Zoro x Reader
A/N: Thank you to my mannnn!😩 hope yall enjoy :)
The night was calm, with the Going Merry gently rocking on the peaceful sea. Zoro had just finished his usual routine of training and decided to reward himself with a cold beer. The rest of the crew was either asleep or occupied with their own activities, so the kitchen was empty and quiet, the perfect place to unwind.
As he entered the dimly lit kitchen, Zoro’s sharp eyes caught a glimpse of you, sitting on one of the stools by the table. However, something was off. Your usually calm demeanor was replaced with panic, your chest heaving, and tears streaming down your face. He was taken aback for a moment, not accustomed to seeing such vulnerability in you.
But without a second thought, Zoro abandoned his quest for a beer and moved swiftly toward you. His usual gruff expression softened as he gently placed a hand on your trembling shoulder. “Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. Your breathing was erratic as you tried to explain, “I… I don’t know, Zoro. I just… I can’t breathe, and my heart won’t stop racing.”
Zoro didn’t say a word; he simply pulled up a chair beside you and took your hand in his, his touch surprisingly warm. He didn’t have the comforting words to say, but his presence was soothing in itself. As you continued to struggle with your panic attack, Zoro did something completely unexpected. He leaned closer, his strong arms enveloping you in a tight hug. His cheek pressed against yours as he whispered softly, “Just focus on my breathing, alright? In and out. Slowly.”
His steady breaths were a grounding force amidst the chaos in your mind. You followed his lead, inhaling deeply when he did and exhaling when he did. Gradually, your breathing began to regulate, and the tightness in your chest eased. Zoro didn’t let go; he held you close, his embrace strangely comforting. It was a side of him that you hadn’t seen before, and it surprised you how he could be so gentle when needed.
After a while, your panic attack subsided, and you pulled away from his embrace, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” you mumbled. Zoro simply shrugged, his expression returning to its usual stoicism. “No need to apologize. It happens to everyone at some point. If you ever need someone to talk to or just… sit with you, I’m here.”
You managed a small smile, feeling grateful for his unexpected kindness. Maybe there was more to Zoro than met the eye. It was a quiet and reassuring understanding that, in this crew, you were never truly alone, even in your moments of vulnerability.
©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.
#opla hcs#opla zoro#opla zoro x reader#zoro x reader#zoro x you#ronoroa zoro#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa x you#roronoa zoro x you#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro fluff#one piece x reader#op x reader#one piece headcanons#op hcs#op headcanons#one piece fluff#one piece x black!reader#anime x reader#op x y/n#op x you#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece x female reader#op fluff#op fluff hcs#zoro oneshots#op one shots#one piece oneshots#anime oneshot
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hi!! I'd love a James Potter x female! reader smut where reader finds James masturbating to a naked picture of her and then she rides him really, really hard to the point where he has the most AMAZING orgasm, tysm i hope you can write it!!
ahh i hope i did this justice!! this was supposed to be less than 1k words buuut… 🤭
a little longer | j.p.
pairing(s): james potter x fem!reader
warning(s): 18+, smut, piv, sub!james, riding, masturbation, masturbating to a photo of a friend, friends to lovers?, not proofread or edited
word count: 1.4k
masterlist
James’ bedroom door seemed to taunt you with each passing second.
You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. What would he say if you went in there? You’d sent an owl. He normally responded promptly, so you’d rationalized going to his house by telling yourself he could be hurt. His parents, after surviving a nasty bout of Dragonpox during his seventh year, had decided to spend more time traveling like when they were younger. Which meant James was home alone often. Sometimes he went with them, but with work, he had to stay in England the majority of the time.
You squared your shoulders and knocked on the door.
Unfortunately for the both of you, James’ door wasn’t actually closed. No, it had been cracked just the tiniest amount, which meant that as soon as your fist made contact with the wood, it swung open.
Your jaw dropped.
Sprawled out on his bed, fist wrapped around his red and throbbing cock, was James Potter. His head laid tilted back amongst his pillows, brow furrowed as he stroked up and down. Your lungs constricted. What the fuck were you supposed to do now?
James held something in his free hand, something small, that he brought up to his face and moaned. Your blood went hot, burning through your veins as you watched him struggle to orgasm. He bucked his hips, precum coating his trembling fingers. You sucked in a harsh breath. It was then that you decided to turn and leave, but the sound of the floor creaking had James looking over. And shooting upright.
“Merlin! What-“
James threw the sheets over his waist with his sticky hand. You grimaced. He’d caught you, what were you supposed to say? Sorry, but I do in fact want to keep watching. Please carry on! He looked stricken. Eyes wide and blinking furiously behind his glasses, you didn’t miss the tremble of his voice or the way he gripped the sheets.
“What are you doing?” Your mouth went dry as you struggled to form words.
“I just…” You averted your gaze, choosing instead to stare up at the ceiling and question everything that had led to this moment. “You didn’t respond to my owl?”
You winced as it came out more question than answer.
James huffed, running his clean hand over his wild hair. You pressed your lips together in a tight line.
“Do you… want help?” The words were out before you could stop them. The silence that followed threatened to deafen you. Everything seemed muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. James cleared his throat. “You want to?” You shrugged.
“I mean, why not? It’s just, we’re already so close it wouldn’t be weird, right?” Your nervous laughter didn’t match your words. James’ matching laugh was just as anxious. “Yeah, sure.”
You nodded slowly, bringing your gaze back to his. His lips twitched into a sheepish smile. Your heart started pounding all over again, your face burning with heat. He motioned you over and you followed, catching a glimpse of the photo he’d had in his hand. “Oh my god, is that me?” James shot forward before you could get a quick look, shoving the picture into his bedside table and slamming the drawer closed. “No, no, of course not.”
His ashen face and panicked eyes betrayed him.
“You were wanking off to a photo of me?” He rubbed the back of his neck, expression sheepish. You laughed. You’d both been tiptoeing around each other for ages, and this could be what finally gives you the courage to make him yours.
“You could’ve just asked me to come by.” James’ lips parted. “What?”
You moved the sheets aside, climbing onto the bed and straddling him. He just stared. You smiled, steeling your nerves, and grabbed his hands to place onto your body. His fingers pressed into your soft skin, unsure as you lowered yourself to grind on his bare lap. His nails dug crescents into your thighs. You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning forward so your noses were almost touching. “Is this alright?”
He was almost frantic with his nodding, staring you dead in the eyes as you waited for him to move. He closed the gap, lips pressed hard against you. James deepened the kiss, moaning into your mouth like a virgin. “Is this real?”
You broke the kiss and giggled. “Do I feel real?” You slipped your hands between you and grabbed a hold of his dick. He gasped, nodding as his cock throbbed in your grip. He hissed when you swiped a finger over his slit. You pushed your underwear to the side and slowly eased him inside your cunt.
His head fell to your chest. Unintelligible murmuring reached your ears, James’ lips dragging across your skin. You let out a soft moan when he bottomed out inside of you. James nipped at the skin of your collarbone. “You feel so good f’me.”
James’ chest stuttered when you began to move, hips rolling. He fell back against the pillows once again. You places your palms on his chest, leaning into him as you rode him.
“Shit-“ James’ hips bucked up into you. You choked on a moan, practically mewling as he hit some spot deep inside of you. You clenched hard around him. James moaned; the sound was high pitched and breathy, more a whine than anything else. You smiled, finding a rhythm that was sure to have your legs unusable afterwards. James gripped your hips, fingers leaving behind marks. He thrusted up into you in time with your own gyrations. He was close, that much you could tell. His balls were drawn tight as they smacked against your body, and every movement had his cock throbbing inside of you. You squeezed your cunt around him.
James attempted to muffle his moan by turning his head into the pillow—it didn’t work. You laughed, leaning down and arching your back. The change in position left you breathless, eyes rolling back.
“Mhm-“ You focused in on his face.
“You feel better than I imagined you would.” James’ voice sounded strained as it reached your ears. You latched onto his left nipple, sucking hard on the skin before trailing down the planes of his abdomen. James moaned and writhed beneath you, babbling, hips faltering in their thrusts. You picked up your pace to compensate.
“I’m gonna-fuck I’m gonna cum-“ You slipped your hand between the two of you, fingers circling over your clit. A familiar knot tightened in your abdomen, your inner walls fluttering around James. The feeling sent him over the edge. Spurts of hot cum filled your cunt as you milked him through his orgasm, dragging your nails down his stomach. His back arched as you continued to roll your hips. Your clit ached as you switched to figure eights, frantic as you drew closer to the edge.
“It’s too much,” James thrusted up into you as he spoke. “I can’t-I can’t-“ You shushed him, urging him to sit up so you could kiss him. He complied, still whimpering as you pressed your lips against his. His glasses pressed harshly against your cheeks. His dick was still hard inside of you, enough that you knew you could bring him to climax again. You doubted it would take much.
“I know, Jamie, I know. M’gonna take good care of you, m’kay?” Your voice seemed disembodied, steady in a way that didn’t reflect the way you felt. You mewled as the knot inside of you pulled impossibly tight before snapping, sending you hurling off the edge. Your legs shook as your thrusting grew frenetic. James made some inhuman sound as his body threw him into another orgasm. You clenched down on him, tight enough that you could barely move, bodies pressed tight together.
You came down slowly, panting like a dog, limbs trembling. James looked broken in your arms: his eyes were so glassy that if you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he’d either been crying or was drunk. You cooed at him, scratching the back of his head. He moaned weakly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You wrapped your arms around him, resting his face in the crook of your neck while your bodies shook. He did the same, arms snaking around your waist to ground him. You hummed.
“We should probably clean up.” Amusement laced your words as James huffed, tightening his grip on you instead. “Or we could just stay here instead.” You laughed, wincing as your cunt twitched from sensitivity. Fluids dripped down your thighs. You cringed, though James didn’t seem to mind. “Just let me hold you a little longer,” he murmured against your skin.
You couldn’t argue with that.
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#marauders x reader#marauders#marauders era#marauders x y/n#marauders x fem!reader#marauders x you#the marauders#james potter#james fleamont potter#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter drabble#james potter oneshot#james potter smut#james potter x reader#reader insert
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Bodyguard
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive
Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone
Era: Season 1, the Quarry
Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...
The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.
Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.
He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.
"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.
"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.
You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.
He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.
"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.
He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.
"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.
He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."
"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.
---
Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."
He simply grunts in response.
Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.
When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.
He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.
You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."
"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.
"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."
You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.
"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.
As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.
You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.
"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.
The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.
"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.
He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.
When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.
You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.
You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.
"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"
You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.
"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.
Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.
"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.
You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.
You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."
You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.
A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.
You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.
"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."
And you grin.
---
Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.
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Yandere Stalker x you
Rated 18 + — mature short content !
Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.
*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*
Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.
What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?
You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.
I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.
Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?
June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.
Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.
And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.
I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.
I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?
My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.
Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.
What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.
I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.
I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.
I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.
I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.
It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...
"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.
My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"
I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.
"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.
You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.
Why is this oddly arousing?
With one final shove I landed onto my face.
There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.
No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.
Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.
Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.
#Allurilove yandere writing#Allurilove—YANDERE STALKER X YOU PART TWO#tw yandere#tw stalking#cw blood#male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere writing#yandere oc x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#smut writing#smut fic#yandere male x you#obsessive love#yandere fic#yandere oc x fem reader#yandere x fem reader#yandere drabble#smutty smut smut#male yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere oc x y/n#yandere oc fic#delusional yandere#yandere stalking
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DC xDP idea: Misplace Baby
Danny makes a mistake.
He was messing around in Clockwork's lair-specifically the one with all the various clocks- when he accidentally broke a glowing gold hourglass on himself. It was the size of a house, so as the sand practically drowned him, he didn't notice his body shrinking until he dug out of the shimmering sand.
Danny stumbles on chubby little legs, panicking when he notices his clothes are suddenly too big and his hands are tinny. He fumbles to one of the old grandfather clocks to check his reflection in the glass. A small three-year-old stares back at him.
Danny screams, pushing away from the old clock. His actions cause him to trip over the leg of his pants, and he falls. Just as he tries to catch himself, the clock starts to ding.
Danny briefly recognizes the old melody of a Westminster before the clock's glass case swings open, revealing a portal, and he falls through. He catches a glimpse of Clockwork with a hand on his forehead, shaking his head in the doorway as he falls.
His face is dragged against the carpet as the Westminster chime rings behind him in the otherwise silent room. Groaning at the burn on his nose and cheeks, Danny sits up.
He turns around, watching in horror as the portal closes.
"No! No, no, no!" He opens and closes the glass door, but all he sees is the slightly swinging pendulum. Repeats his actions again and again. "Clockwork! Help! Clockwork!"
His mentor does not answer, and Danny can't feel him in the air. Can't sense his new father figure's gentle control over the flow of time. If he's learned anything in the last year he's been working as his appearance, this means Clockwork isn't in charge of this timeline.
He's in a universe so far from his original that not even the god of Time is the same. Moby Dick, he's gone and goofed now.
"Who's there?" A voice demands, and Danny whips around to see a startled man in a suit. A fine black two-piece suit that looks more expensive than Danny's house and car. Oh no, a rich man.
The man's blue eyes soften when he sees Danny. "Hey there, chum. What are you doing in my study?"
Danny blinks up at him as the man walks closer. At the closeness, the halfa's body betrays him. He starts to sob. Strong, painful sobs that wreck his whole body, and he can't breathe from how much he's crying.
The man's arms are around him in seconds. "Oh, Chum, it's okay. You're okay."
He lifts him up, pressing his wet face against his neck as he pats Danny's little back. It is humiliating, but Danny can't help but cling to the strong shoulders and curl against the warm chest as he cries. His tears and snot are all over the man's suit, but he doesn't seem to care as he comforts Danny.
Eventually, he cries to sleep, tear-stained face still pressed against the stranger's neck and his little head leaning against a strong shoulder. The rich man carefully tilts his head to ensure the toddler is fast asleep.
Once confirmed, he takes the small boy to the guest rooms. He needs answers- who is the boy? Where did he come from? Is he the son of one of the Gala attendees? What had the boy been doing at the clock guarding the Batcave?- but he will find those later. Right now, he needs to tuck this small child into bed.
"Master Bruce, your guests are waiting for you to give the speech," Alfred says, catching him at the stairway. The butler's eyes zone in on the small child in Bruce's arms before nodding. "I shall inform Marster Dick to speak for you. Who may this young lad be?"
"I'm not sure. I just found him crying in the main study." Bruce tilts his head to the upper floors. "I'm going to tuck him in."
"I'm afraid I only prepared the room next to Master Damian in preparation for Master Jon's visit. Thankfully the lads would not be opposed to sharing a room for the night if I request it of them."
"Thank you, Alfred. I'll be down as soon as I-"
"Who's child is that!?" Jason demands, stomping his way up the stairs. He's missing his suit jacket, and there is a nasty red stain on the front of his white shirt. Likely he's come for a change after "accidentally" dumping it on himself to get away from the Gala.
The toddler's nose wrinkles, indicating his sleep may be interrupted. Quickly, Bruce pats his back, humming a lullaby before the child can wake. The boy settles after a small sigh. He gives Jason a warning glare that the young man has the decency to look remorseful.
"Jason," Bruce starts, voice hushed. "I found him in the main study. He looks distressed, but a few minutes ago, I got an alert that someone had gotten into the manor. When I followed the motion detectors, it led me to this little guy."
"A baby broke into the manner? That's hardcore." Jason replied, peering at the sleeping child only to gasp. "It's another mini-you!"
"No," Bruce tells him, but secretly he thinks the same when he first finds the little boy in the main study. He had already taken a lock of the boy's hair. Just, you know, in case.
"Nice try, old man." Jason pulls out his phone, his thumb flying over his screen. A soft ding comes from the pockets of Bruce and Alfred. He doesn't have to look to know his son has just told all his siblings about the child.
A series of dings follow shortly after.
Bruce sighs, choosing not to answer, nodding to Jason and Aldfed as he quickly goes up the stairs. At least Alfred delays Jason from following by scolding him over the red stain.
Once the boy is safely placed into the bed, he carefully changes him into a pair of Damian's smallest pjs. They are still far too big for the boy but better than the jeans and white shirt he wore. He's happy to find that besides the red on his face- it looks like carpet burn- and a small bruise on his knee, the boy is unharmed. He places a stuffed octopus in the toddler's arms- smiling as the little one automatically clings it to it - before rushing down to the Batcave.
There he runs the DNA tests just as he reviews the camera footage. There he catches the toddler walking out of the woods, pushing himself through a small gap in the metal fence and wandering around the manor until he finds an open window and crawls in.
The window was opened by one of his Gala guests taking a smoke break. Bruce felt a small annoyance that they didn't follow his "no-smoking" rule even when he had explained on multiple occasions it was due to Tim not having a spleen and being worried about his health. He'll have to blacklist that man.
The child had not gracefully fallen into the manor, and Bruce winced as the boy slammed against the carpet floor as tripped. It explains the marks on his face. The boy had then cried for a few minutes- his cries must have been drowned out by the music of the Gala- but then he must have realized that no one was coming for him, so the baby had gotten up and wandered through the house crying.
He had found himself in the main study, where a few minutes later, Bruce had seen him.
Rewinding the camera, Bruce's eyes narrowed at seeing a piece of paper pinned to the boy's clothes. It looked like it fell off when he crawled through the window. Checking on the DNA test, Bruce left the cave to look for the paper.
He found in the hands of Cass, whose eyes were going over the words with fascination. She looks up at him, unsurprised by his approach- no one could sneak up on Cass- and smiles widely. "Baby brother?"
"What?"
She hands him a letter. It's short and to the point; it claims to be an old fling that gave birth three years ago, but she doesn't want anything to do with the child. She's sending the boy to the manor and is out of the country by the time he arrives.
She leaves no name.
Bruce can't remember anyone with whom he had a fling three years ago, so he knows it's a lie. Still, he would rather not find her if the child was abandoned like this. He's not sure he wouldn't break all her bones.
"I don't think he's mine," Bruce tells Cass. She tilts her head with a frown, staring at him with a soft glare until he sighs. "But I won't mind keeping him."
She beams.
The two make their way to the Batcave and find Dick already there. He's staring at the screen displaying the DNA results with a stupefied expression.
"Chum?" Bruce asks, but Dick doesn't respond. He only gapes at the screen. Cass skips next to him before she, too, freezes, and Bruce is slightly worried about what he will find.
There is a match between the boy and someone in the manner alright. But it's not with Bruce.
It's a match with Dick.
"Holy rapid-ranging ravens, I'm a father." Dick gasps.
Clockwork runs his fingers through his idiotic son's hair three floors above them. Kronos stands guard at the door, arms cross as he watches the visiting time god carefully whip the dimension travelers' memories.
Kronos is in charge of this universe timeline, but when he was approached by Clockwork asking for a favor, well, it was not hard to shift some events and make Danny a legit background.
He was now the son of Dick Grayson and Stacy Quinell. One was a boy who had been born in a circus but was forced to leave it after the death of his parents. When life got too rough, the boy would join the circus for short trips under the name Dan Danger.
The other was a girl whose parents were so determined to control every aspect of her life and were going to force her to marry a man twice her age she left home at sixteen.
She joined a traveling circus-Haley Circus- where she had a fling with Dan Danger. The night Dan was meant to go, she had seen him without his mask and learned it to be Dick Grayson.
Upon discovering her pregnancy, Stacy feared being kicked out of the circus, so she took a short break, gave birth to the boy, and kept him until he was three, thus demeaning him old enough to be without his mother.
She took him as close as she could to Wayne Manor and left. She intended to return to Haly's Circus, unaware of the fate that waited for her. Unaware of the Cout that needed new talons.
"Are you sure about this?" Kronos asks, "I'm all for discipline, but having the boy forget everything about himself for going into the timeline room?"
"It's not a punishment," Clockwork says. "It's a gift. Danny had lost so much when his parents learned the truth. His sister died trying to get him out of the house. His best friends were crippled when trying to hide him. His town was blown to pieces when his parents decided that no one in Amity Park could have a family if they could not have their children. Danny had spent years wishing to forget but mostly wishing to be a normal child. I will forever be grateful if a lifetime here grants him that."
Kronos frowns. "You have no power here. You do not know what awaits him."
"True, I know not of the trials and tribulations Danny will face, but I know you do. And you would not let anything happen to him, won't you." Clockwork looks at Kronos through his lashes and the other god of time swallows.
"Of course, my love. I will protect him. But unlike you, I can not get involved with mortals as easily. I will not be able to shield him."
"His new family will," Clockwork says, pressing his face against Danny's hair one last time to breathe him in. It will be a lifetime before he can hold his son. "The bats have faced worst odds."
Kronos tilts his head in agreement. "They have rewritten fate on numerous occasions. Even the Flashes have only been able to overturn fate but never truly go against it."
"The Court of Owls?"
"Danny will deal with them in time. His new mother is on her way to becoming a Telon. He will erase them from the timeline once he learns what they have done to her." Krono answers, eyes glowing as events of the future play before him. He watches a glowing figure battle against the king of the dead, his white hair shining brightly. "He seems to take the throne from the king of dead even here. Remarkable."
"My son is the most remarkable being around," Clockwork says proudly. He flouts from the bed, leaving behind a child with only memories of three years and a few false imprinted glimpses of the circus trailer his mother hid him in. He presses a kiss against Krono's lips. "I find myself wishing for another child. Will you assist me with that love?"
Kronos snaps them out of existence just as Danny opens his eyes and feels a small loss. It's quickly forgotten as his new father runs into the room to gasp. "Hey there, buddy, do you know who I am?"
Danny Grayson is introduced to his uncles and aunts later that night. He also meets John Jones and his niece Megan Morse who ask him a few questions about his past. Danny gets a funny feeling around them, as if someone was running their fingers through his hair but inside his head.
Thankfully they find everything to be alright.
And a new generation is born.
#dc x dp crossover#dcxdpdabbles#Misplaced Baby#Danny is Dick's son#bad parents jack and maddie#Haly's circus was a front for the Court of Owls#Kronos and CLockwork are longtime lovers#accidental baby acquisition
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𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Missing You While They’re Away
✧˚ Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi
༉‧₊˚. (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
“Just one soft kiss is enough to move my heart. There was a time when our affection was deep, and reminiscing has made me realize how much I miss you.”
Ghost
This feeling is quite strange to him
He thought his heart would be at ease when you’ve said your goodbyes
Although he’s tried dismissing this feeling every day by reminding himself he’ll see you again
But he finds himself missing you; your touch, your comfort, your smell
A habit of his is hooking a leg over your body while in bed, that first morning he wakes up feeling empty because you’re not there
Your touch is like fire to his body that he seeks to warm his lonely nights
He yearns for it so much he cannot live without it
He would truly burn for you
Soap
Starts writing love letters to you like how Napoleon wrote for Josephine
He wakes up with you on his mind, his senses in a turmoil
Replaying the last evening and your intoxicating body scent that gives him such tranquility
Probably writes your name out a hundred times, drawling little hearts around it
If he finds a flower he’ll press it between the pages he sends you
When you send him something small of yours in return, insignificant to anyone else but an amulet to him
He wears it around his neck
Fiddling with it between his fingers
He’s prob the type to get one of those 18th century lover’s eye jewelry because to him it means having a clandestine declaration of your love
Gaz
That feeling that cannot be put into words
The feeling of walking on clouds that you have planted in his heart
He misses it so much
Your whisper with your soft smile
When he’s sitting alone he wishes he’d have you there next to him
Looking down at his hand, it feels empty, he knows exactly where your fingers intertwine with his
Your touch is so familiar to him that it feels unusual not to feel you
The words he longs to say, your name he wants to call out, the cherished place you have for him in your heart
He swears that when you reunite he’ll wrap his arms around your waist, pressing long and relentless kisses whilst murmuring “i missed you”
Alejandro
Man thinks about how he pressed lazy, slow kisses all over you, taking his sweet time memorizing your body
It’s the last thing he did right before he left
He asked for a kiss from you too before leaving, a real kiss
“Don’t be shy cariño”
He makes sure that you’ll miss him just as much as he’ll be missing you
The night before, he played slow, romantic music as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses trailing down your back hoping that through his lips you would feel his heart that beats wildly for you
Now whenever the song plays both you and him have that sweet memory, soothing his mind but awakening his heart
Phillip Graves
He believes that being away from one another every once in a while is beneficial
While it is truly a vivid and pleasant sensation; being enamored, so ardently in love, being everything when together and nothing at all when apart
His mind revolves around you
Anything can serve as a reminder of your fond love
A gentle wind caressing his face is like your embracement
Amid the bustling, glimpses of your smile flash through his mind, a whisper of your voice in his crowded memories
Even if he can’t hold your form; in the night sky enfolded in his closed eyes remains a trace of thoughts that are meant only for you
In this world, only you and him exist and it becomes yours in a swirling glass
Parting his lips from the brim of the glass to savor the wine makes the second drink all the more delightful
Keegan
Groaning in frustration because he can’t bury his face into your neck first thing in the morning to inhale your scent as he’s used to, you’re like a fragrance so refined
Before leaving, he took your pillowcase and a sample of your preferred perfume
He sprays it all over himself before going to sleep so he may be drenched in your aroma
If he can’t be with you in that moment, he can only hope he’ll dream of you
He’s constantly placing candy that melts on his tongue, substituting your addictive taste
He’s come to memorize your body, scent, taste, and voice through his senses
Being deprived of just one of those things is torture to him
König
You don’t know how afraid he is of something happening to you while he’s gone, or something preventing him from ever seeing you again
Your existence alone is like a dream to him
Déjà vu of some perfect gaze
Risks are scary, yet it makes his heart flutter
Late at night, his fingertips trace his lips where you’d place loving kisses
He feels how empty is laps if when you’re not sitting on it
When he closes his eyes he remembers how you cup his face in your hands and dote on him
It wasn’t until that night that he felt more lost than ever before
Horangi
To him, it was enough knowing you were his reason to go on
That lively dynamic that is created when two universes collide
It filled his void with renewed purpose, and that in itself is enough to spur the other on
That spark that ignites when you brush skin against skin, he craves it so deeply
A hunger that stirs from his loins
How your lips feel like velvet grazing his skin, your tongue dripping with honey
The intoxicating expressions of affection he wishes to give and receive
He secures these thoughts in the back of his mind, knowing he’ll act upon them when he’s with you again
#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#cod soap#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gaz cod#gaz call of duty#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost x reader#keegan x reader#keegan p russ#cod keegan#alejandro vargas cod#alejandro call of duty#alejandro x reader#alejandro vargas#phillip graves cod#phillip graves x reader#phillip graves#konig cod#konig x reader#konig call of duty#horangi call of duty#horangi x reader#horangi cod#cod fanfic#call of duty#cod headcanons
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full of love (kim seungmin x gn!reader)
fluff, no warnings, sleepy seungmo !!!
an: based on this request !! i hope you'll like it and please remember that feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated🫶🏽
“how about this one?” seungmin pointed to one of the bottles on the sink. “what is it for?” he mumbled sleepily and you smiled, putting on your headband.
“it helps to moisturise my face.” he let out a little oh at your response, making you giggle. you stood in front of the mirror, putting some baby hair under the headband, and seungmin took the opportunity to stand behind you and lazily wrap his arms around your waist. he placed his head on your shoulder and glimpsed at your reflection.
“you look funny,” he mumbled, trying to suppress a yawn.
“you mean the headband?” you asked softly, smiling as he hummed and closed his eyes. “i know, it looks quite ridiculous.”
“but i like how you look with it on your head. It makes you look very soft,” he added, not daring to open his eyes. you observed him in the mirror for a few seconds, your heart going thump thump as his grip on your waist tightened.
it wasn’t like seungmin to be overly affectionate with you. he always tried to keep his mysterious, cold demeanour around people, acting as if he didn’t care about anything and anyone. at first it made you self conscious, you worried he might not like you, but soon after you realised he was just scared to open up, to let himself be vulnerable, you promised yourself to be the person who makes him feel safe.
“are you falling asleep?” you whispered, rubbing some cleansing foam on your cheeks. seungmin yawned loudly, adjusting his chin on your shoulder.
“no…” he mumbled back, clearly jumping back and forth between sleep and consciousness. you giggled at his reflection in the mirror.
“i’m almost done, just gonna put on some moisturiser.”
“can i do it?” seungmin asked sleepily and you turned your head to look at him. he opened his puffy eyes and straightened his back, letting out yet another yawn. you nodded when he looked at you with raised eyebrows and handed him the little bottle. he opened it, squeezing some of the cream onto his palm as you sat on the counter.
seungmin’s fingers were gentle on your face, delicately rubbing the moisturiser on your cheeks and forehead. he was thorough with his actions, making sure he put the product evenly.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his fingers brushed your neck and cleavage. it took you off guard, your cheeks growing warm as his words seeped into your brain. “and i mean it.” he looked you deeply in the eyes as he finished your skincare routine, bringing his hands to slowly take your headband off, making sure to push all of your hair back so it won’t stick to your freshly washed face.
you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him for a soft, sleepy kiss. he embraced you as well, clinging to you as close as he possibly could, and it was one of those moments when seungmin let you see how full of love he really was - especially when it came to you.
taglist !
@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh @xichien @linospuddin
#skz#stray kids#stray kids headcanons#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#skz au#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fluff#stray kids comfort#skz seungmin#kim seungmin headcanons#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin imagines#kim seungmin scenarios#kim seungmin fluff#kim seungmin comfort
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ೃ⁀➷ one love, two mouths
- ,, ao’nung x fem reader
- ,, being bestfriends with aonung ever since you gained consciousness was pleasant, but comes with a side of flirting and realizations you want to be more than just friends, or bestfriends.
- ,, warnings - SUGGESTIVE! adults watch out this is a teenager ur reading abt. minors pls be careful if u dont like making out!! ao’nung is a btch but not to u, tanhì is na’vi for “star, bioluminescent freckle”, simp ao’nung yasss thats like all my characters lol gunna ignore that!!
ps : tanhì is not readers name lol, just a nickname that ao’nung gave her!!!
-‘๑’- sweater weather - the neighborhood
Ao’nung was mean, you’ve seen how quick he is to bite back and claw at any opportunity that gives him a moment of glory against his rivals, plenty of times.
Ao’nung is mean to everyone, everyone but you, and his family, and maybe Roxto.
Excluding those people, ao’nung has never tried to purposefully hurt your feelings, maybe in a moment of childish banter, he has said mean things that are fleeting, they go away as quickly as they come because he sees the look on your face, and says sorry with a heavy heart.
Some days he is not as apologetic, and delays his apologies until a day or two, you walk away with hurt, anger, and hesitation but he always comes to u, can’t bare being away from you, his girl.
You are sitting on the sand, knees up to your chest as you gaze upon the sea, muscles sore from swimming all day. You almost fall asleep as the peaceful sound of the waves lulls you but alas, your one and only makes his presence known with his loud greeting.
“My tanhì, you look a little lonely!” ao’nung chuckles and sits down beside you, right beside you. No literally, he’s so close that your arm and leg are touching his. Why’s he so close? There’s literally so much space? You’ve stopped questioning it, he’s been touchy with you since forever.
He ruffles the top of your head affectionately, the little smile on his face tells you he’s in a good mood. “hi ao’nung” you say softly and give him a sweet smile, god he almost just melted at the spot, “you seem happy today”
“i am” he replies shortly and you lay your head on his shoulder, letting out a satisfied sigh at finally seeing your favorite person.
his hand finds it’s way to your leg and he gives you a prompt squeeze on your thigh, affection came as naturally as breathing to him when it was with you.
Your eyes roam around the sea as you look at the people smiling with their ilu’s and splashing around in the water, you catch a glimpse of a group of 4 girls as you shudder with the piercing look they give you. You recognize those girls as Tsireya’s friends, remembering her telling you about her dislike for a lot of their decisions. She told you to avoid them, they’re no good.
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion when you see the said girls make their way to you and ao’nung, probably only having matters that deal with ao’nung, you’re pretty sure they’ll ignore your whole existence if anything.
You being this close to The Olo’Eyktan’s only son ignites some sort of resentment in them, automatically making you their competition and viewing you as a threat.
“bruh not these chicks again” ao’nung mutters quietly in irritation and lets out a groan into your hair, hoping they’ll go away if he can’t see them. You giggle but your smile is gone as soon as the girls stop right in-front of your bestfriend. “Ao’nung!! We we’re gonna go take a swim with our ilu’s, I think you should join us! Im sure sitting here watching the ocean isn’t that interesting” the girl’s giggle thinking Ao’nung will get up and follow them without a word.
For a second you believed so too, what you were doing wasn’t that fun, but you didn’t want fun, you wanted calm.
“fuck no” you hear pure distaste in ao’nung’s voice, it makes you cringe, the second hand embarrassment of straight rejection in the face. You smile, he’s really showing no interest in these girls, you almost feel bad, but whats it to you?
“oh- well- you can- you can always come join us later or whatever, whenever y/n lets you go” you’re a bit offended, you aren’t holding ao’nung back from anything, especially these girls, any choice he makes is solely his decision.
“nah im good i prefer y/n anyways”
“whatever” the girls huff and puff and stomp off the space you guys we’re currently sitting at
“bit mean, don’t u think”
“i don’t care” you smile at his quick response
“i think a lot of people dislike our friendship ao’nung, you’re the next Olo’Eyktan and they think i’m competition. They can’t let me ruin their chances of becoming Tsahik.”
“tanhì, what are you even saying?”
“i just.. what i mean is.. you’re almost ready to find a mate, and you must choose wisely, as your choice will be the next Tsahik for our clan, she must work with you as one, and i feel like i’m holding you back from finding a good mate”
Ao’nung pays attention to you, listening to your worries with furrowed brows, he’s so good to you, always. It makes your heart squeeze when you think of him being this affectionate with any other girl, you’re selfish, you want him to yourself.
As much as this hurts, you will be open with him, but you will not open your heart to him as of now. You sigh, he grabs your hand and his thumb rubs soothing circles, telling you to continue.
“i think.. i think re’yal is a beautiful girl, her parents are talented and she takes after them-“ you are cut off.
“i couldn’t care less for re’yal” you tilt your head in confusion
“na’yi is a good healer”
“she is a good healer.”
Ah. It’s Na’yi that he’s chosen then. You look up at him, unable to stop your head from moving. He smiles. Ouch.
“i have the stupidest girl sitting in front of me right now” you hit him gently in the chest, he catches your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours.
Woah. You’ve held hands multiple times but not this way. It feels different. You’re almost about to throw up.
Your eyes quickly drop down to his lips, god, you pray to Ewya that he doesn’t notice.
He does notice, and he thinks you’re so cute he could make-out with you right now.
“she’s so stupid but she’s also the prettiest, she’s really cute too, i think she’d make a great tsahik” you’re embarrassed now, what does this mean? why’s he such a jerk?
“i don’t think Na’yi wo-“
“tanhì, i don’t care about Na’yi, i do not want her.”
“Ao’nung.. allow me to help you, you cannot delay this anymore”
“y/n you just don’t get the hint do you?”
“what?”
Ao’nung groans frustrated, he looks around to see if anyone is watching, what he’s about to do right now might cause issues, he can’t find himself to care any longer though.
Ao’nung cranes his head enough so his lips are an inch away from yours, he looks at you with lidded eyes and you’re already looking at him
“let me kiss you” he asks and you don’t wait, you nod and he smashes his soft lips against yours, desperately. You’ve been wanting to do this, been wanting to kiss your bestfriend.
He grabs the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, damn, he’s a good kisser. Not that you’ve kissed anyone else before, but he’s making you feel really good.
It’s fast, and you both are desperate, impatient, and incredibly in love. He grabs your waist to pull you closer and you whine into the kiss. Sweet. He’s never loved a sound more. His confession comes between kisses.
“y/n, i want you,” kiss. “and only you.” kiss.
you pull away and you’re breathing heavily, you look at ao’nung, pretty sure your eyes have hearts in them. “i-“ you don’t know what to say.
“I see you” you whisper, only meant for him to hear, with sincere eyes.
Ao’nung looks at you and his lips twitch into a small smile.
He goes into kiss you again and your hands find their way behind his neck, he pulls back and trails a few kisses from your jaw to your neck, you gasp softly when he finds your sensitive spot and sucks on it, sinking his teeth into your soft skin, you’re so sure this is gonna leave a bruise.
He kisses you again but this time openmouthed, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip to ask for permission, you open your mouth more to let him in. “i love you so much” he whimpers into your mouth and you realize you wanna get out of here. Your feel yourself getting embarrassed as you realize the 4 girls probably saw your full on makeout session.
“what’s wrong baby?”
“lets get out of here ao’nung” you plead, doe eyes looking up at your lover. God, you make him crazy.
He takes your hand and leads you to his marui pod, you guys pass the 4 girls on your way there and by the look they’re giving you, you know they saw it, maybe even enjoyed it a bit. (jk) The girl’s eyes travel down to your neck where your fresh hickey lies and they immediately turn their backs around, unable to watch your love bloom any longer.
You laugh loudly and that causes ao’nung to turn around, your hands still intertwined as you giggle, ao’nung gets the hint on what you’re laughing at and smirks as he watches you, amused.
“bit mean, don’t you think?” he mocks you and you slap his arm, he throws that arm over your shoulder as you guys walk , the sound of your laugh rings in ao’nungs ears and he swears he’ll never love someone like he loves you.
#avatar fandom#avater the way of water#avatar headcanons#avatar fanfiction#avatar x reader#avatar x you#avatar 2#avatar ao'nung#aonung#atwow x reader#aonung imagine#aonung x reader#aonung x you#ao’nung x reader
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Picnic Date Idea...
(Trigger warning, read if you enjoy CNC)
You look extra needy this evening, dressing up and twirling around in your cute dress I bought with you.
The one with the floral patterns that is just short enough to cover your ass.
When you spin I catch a glimpse of that metallic plug in placed into you hours ago.
"Come on baby, we are going on a little drive, wait for me in in the car."
"Ooooh, are you taking me out for a date!? Are we going to go to a restaurant or shopping!?"
"Just head to the car and get in, I'll be out soon princess."
When I leave the house and turn to lock the door, you notice I'm carrying a backpack on my back.
"Daddy, are we going on a picnic at the park!"
"Oh, something like that..."
The entire car ride, I have my hand on your thigh, moving it up and down your soft skin and teasing you as we snake down the country roads, deeper into the woods.
At one point I stop abruptly and turn off the car, just off the road, nobody around us and no car has passed us for a good long while.
"Get out, get the FUCK OUT OF THIS CAR!" My voice erupting in a commanding fashion.
"D-daddy... What's going on, what do you mean?"
I grab you by the base of your hair and pull you close. "I SAID, GET OUT THIS FUCKING CAR, NOW!"
You freeze, paralyzed by fear and yet, there is a sparkle of excitement in your eyes.
"No."
I push the drivers door open, climb out and quickly get to the passangers side. I grab you by the hair again, and you struggle, pushing me away and begging for me to stop.
It's no use...
I get you out the car, push you to the floor away from the car and climb ontop of you so you're pressed into the ground by my weight and strength.
You fight, kick and scream, trying desperately to get yourself out from under me.
It's no use...
I finally collect your hands and handcuff them together behind your back and lift you to your feet and slap your ass nice and hard before spinning you around, pulling you close by the hips and planting a passionate kiss on your lips.
The fear fades for just a second before you're brought back to reality.
"Home is down this road, it's a two hour walk. Good luck."
I step away, climb back into the car and speed off down the road leaving you stranded, alone and afraid.
Your heart is racing and your dress is soiled, yet your pussy has left your thighs drenched.
"What the actual fuck, how can I be this horny from such deranged treatment, fucking hell I'm a mess."
Down the road you walk, for about 10 minutes, the minutes feel like hours and all of a sudden, from behind you, the sounds of a unfamiliar vehicle.
"Oh god, this can't be happening..."
You are so vulnerable, so exposed and fucking drenched in arousal that any feral animal could smell it from miles around.
The car slowly drives by, you barely get a glimpse of the driver, it's at this point you think you got away without being taken notice of.
It's no use...
The car slows, brakes engaged and you're breathing quickens, "Fuck, maybe they will help me, take me home, fuck. How is this even happening."
Reverse lights, and the car stops infront of you.
Before you can even speak, the door opens and a masked hooded man steps out the vehicle and rushes up to you, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you chest first onto the trunk of the car.
"No, no, no NO! Get off of me! Please, stop! Please!! Just help me."
Silence.
It's no use...
He is stronger, bigger and you're weak to what's to come.
His hand lifts your dress to expose your ass cheeks and he is grabbing at them as he unbuckles his pants and shimmies them down and shakes them off.
A knife, drawn and pressed into the side of your neck which makes you freeze and tremble at the thought of being so helpless and vulnerable.
He rubs you up and down, feeling how absolutely soaked and slippery you are.
Trying so hard to want to fight back and yet his hand holding the knife to your neck is applying so much pressure you can't do much.
To make things easier for him, he removed the knife and grabs you to flip you around so you're facing his masked gaze.
Holding you firmly in place with the unrelenting deep feral breathing and treat of a knife which he uses to cut away at your pretty dress.
After you're truely in shambles he pushes you back into the trunk with your chest against the cold metal body and reapplies the knife to your skin and caressing your folds with his fingers.
One finger, two fingers, three...
Pumping into you as you whine and sob, shaking uncontrollably.
Begging for it to be over and for him to leave you alone...
It's no use...
Just before his tip touches your folds, and you're penetrated, he speaks.
"You really think I'd leave you alone, for someone else to come along and take advantage of you, you think I wouldn't have the best date planned for us?"
"Daddy, you are cruel and twisted, now please fucking use me, pump me, rail me, ruin me, I need this, I need you!"
"There is my good little slut. The picnic spot is just up the road, it's all set up, before that though..."
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